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#I WAS AT THE GYM AND THIS GUY SANG TO HIMSELF ON THE TREADMILL
uncanny-tranny · 1 year
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Actually, my new favourite thing to do to heal is to fall in love with a piece of humanity. How could I hate this world when I am so in love with it?
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stusbunker · 7 months
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Spotless: Pomposo
Chapter Fourteen
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Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela
Other characters: Sam, Dean/Jo, John/Kate, Adam, Ellen, Garth/Bess (in passing), Cas and Mary (mentioned)
Word Count: 4559
Warnings, etc: Mutual pining. MORE BACKSTORY AHEAD, story takes place currently in Dec 2017, flashback to Jan. 2004 in italics, talk of Sam's past use of hard drugs, hangovers, vomit, car accidents, injuries, character death, guilt, John was not so great a parent or husband, some paraphrasing of last chapter unbeta'd
Special shout out to @thoughtslikeaminefield who helped immensely on sorting out the backstory for this chapter too, way back when I started outlining this thing.
Series Masterlist
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Sam settled on some old school soul music to start their road trip and Dean couldn’t even come up with a reason to complain. Aretha sang in the background and they headed east, the world was their oyster and all that. Dean held onto the small bit of smug satisfaction from the interview with Meg as the city disappeared behind them. She really wanted him to crack, but he hadn't and that gave him some hope for going home.
They veered north for a bit and continued on I-40 until they hit Flagstaff. Dean liked the mountains, the air was infinitely better than LA and there was something about spending the holidays where it got cold that made sense. Unfortunately, it was just an overnight stay. How they managed a room in the first hotel they tried, he’d never know. He just shuffled in with his duffel bag and his ball cap over his now sleep-sloppy hair. There was a player-piano in the lobby and Dean had the fleeting thought about how Cas was spending the holidays.
Maybe he’d try and leave him another message, it had been months.
Sam called Madison after dinner and Dean decided to check out the amenities in order to not have to watch Sam get all goopy. Dean hadn’t packed a bathing suit, but a gym’s a gym even if it’s just three treadmills, a stair climber and free weights. So, he jogged for a little bit, watching whatever passed for news. He forgot his earbuds in the room and it really wasn’t worth going back for, he was finding his groove even without music as a buffer to the world around him.
After a solid 5k, Dean stepped down to stretch. Which worked out because a couple in their fifties came in just as he started some curls, leaving the treadmills open for their evening stroll. They talked about their family, the wife explaining what she got each of their grandchildren and where they were supposed to be on which day. Perfectly normal people conversation, but something about it made Dean sad, so he tried to tune them out and focus on his reps.
Part of his life after Cain and Alistair was a loss of gym time. Sure, he could work out at home or even do laps around the neighborhood, but it wasn’t the hours in the ring or at the bag or with a jump rope full-body-punishment that he had worked himself up to. It was also a lot more peaceful, less reactionary. And Dean decided he would find a balance between stagnation and self-destruction. Twenty eighteen was just around the corner afterall.
Dean got back to the room in time to shower and crash. If they wanted to push it, they could make it to their Dad’s place the next day. But neither of them were in a hurry, even in Sam’s fuckboy Charger it was nice to be on the road together. Dean took the first stretch towards Albuquerque, but Sam called it in Santa Fe. He had thought ahead and booked them a hotel instead of chancing it again, which surprised Dean for some reason. Sam had gone and gotten to be responsible while Dean was busy fishing himself out of professional purgatory.
“You talk to Bela?” Sam asked as they waited for their pizza to be delivered. 
“Uh, she texted me that she landed at Heathrow, but not really. Why?” Dean asked after taking a sip of his beer.
“Wasn’t sure if you guys were doing the whole gift exchange thing,” Sam shrugged. “Madison made me wait until after we get back to give her hers.”
Dean chuckled. “I don’t want to know what you’re giving her, alright?”
Sam rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored the innuendo. “Won’t people be asking about what you got her?”
Dean hadn’t really thought about it. “I guess I could ask Trouble for some ideas, see if she thinks it’s necessary we post about it. I don’t know, I was kind of hoping of forgetting about the whole thing until New Year’s at Elizabeth’s, you know?”
Sam leveled Dean with a glare. “You know Dad is gonna ask to meet her.”
Dean set down his beer. “Well it’s a good thing she’s halfway across the world then.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
“Mom loved that show,” Sam said thoughtfully.
He was right. Dean had completely forgotten about why he’d recognized Bela the first time they’d met at your housewarming party way back when. But, yeah, Mary had watched ‘Red Sky in the Morning’ every Tuesday night after she put them to bed. Once Dean reached junior high, he was able to persuade her to let him stay up and watch too.
“I can’t believe it was on as long as it was, it was fucking awful,” Dean said playfully.
“Yeah, but it was her escape,” Sam added gently.
Dean took a long pull off his beer. “I guess so.”
When Sam went to meet the delivery driver, Dean turned on the television, banking on some sort of Christmas special to take his mind off memory lane. They ate quietly, letting last minute sales commercials drown out their thoughts. Tomorrow they were going home, or as close to it as they had outside of LA. Dean felt lopsided over getting to see Adam, having to navigate his dad, and tiptoeing Kate’s well-meaning but invasive nature.
But that’s family for you, nothing more important than that.
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Dean rolled over on the couch, something had woken him up and he was too hungover to let it win. But it didn’t stop, a trilling sound coming from his pants pocket, fuck, it was his phone. He cracked one eye open and checked the caller id.
He closed his eyes and answered. “Morning, beautiful.”
“Dean Winchester?” a harried voice asked, decidedly not Jo.
“Ellen?”
“Yeah, listen— there’s been an accident. Jo and Y/N were T-boned on Hound Drive last night. Can you come to the hospital? I just came home for a change of clothes, but I’m heading back there now.”
Dean sat up, liquor and a headache dulling his reflexes. “Ellen? What are they saying?”
“She’s in the ICU. I— we need you there.”
 Terror flooded Dean’s system, churning with a relentless guilt. Jo wouldn’t have been out so late if it wasn’t to see him. He swallowed. “Uh, of course. Do you want me to drive you? I can be there in ten minutes.”
“I’ll pick you up. I’ve got my truck, the roads are still a mess.”
“Right, okay, I’m at Dad and Kate’s— do you–”
“I’ll be there soon.”
“Ellen? Be careful.”
“Don’t you start young man.”
“Yes ma’am.” 
Ellen hung up.
Dean stumbled into the bathroom and threw up. He didn’t have time for a shower. Instead he grabbed his shaving kit and threw on a fresh layer of deodorant and brushed his teeth. He pounded three Advil with the water from one of those flowery Dixie cups Kate kept in a plastic dispenser on the counter. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror, he knew how bad he must look. He stomped back into the living room and swapped his sweaty flannel for one that smelled neutral from his duffel. Adam showed up as Dean was shoving his boots on.
“Dean? Can I put on cartoons?”
He didn’t jump, Dean didn’t get scared of six-year-olds in footie pajamas. He was just on edge, was all.
“Knock yourself out,” Dean said.
“Where are you going?” Adam asked, stealing the afghan Dean had left on the floor.
“Uh, friend of mine had an accident, so I’m heading to the hospital. Can you tell Dad? I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“You can tell me yourself,” John’s voice pressed in behind Dean as he came in from the kitchen, mug of coffee in hand.
“Dad—,” Dean looked at his father, a man who had been on the road cheating on his mother for years. The same mother who died in a fire because John couldn’t bother to make sure to keep the electrical in their shitty double wide up to code. “It’s Jo. Ellen’s gonna take me to the hospital. Dad, I—”
John’s entire stance changed. “Go. Call when you know something. I’ll send Sammy when he’s up, he’ll know what to do.”
They both knew Sam couldn’t stop whatever was happening, but he’d keep Dean from causing a scene.
A car honked in the driveway.
“I gotta go. Thanks,” Dean brushed past his dad without even a glance at Adam.
Dean wouldn’t let Ellen drive, even hungover he trusted himself behind the wheel more than a desperate mother. She only pretended to argue before sliding across the bench seat and letting him in. The roads were a mess. In the thirty minute drive to the hospital, Dean saw another two cars in the ditch. Though, it was clear now in the morning sunshine, everything was blinding in its whiteness.
“Listen, you shut up and keep your head down. Let me do the talking,” Ellen warned him as they approached the reception desk.
“Hi, I’m Ellen Harvelle, I’m here to see my daughter Joanna? This is her fiance.”
Dean squirmed, but nodded at the nurse who looked at him like she wanted to reach over and hug him. “Of course, right this way.”
She led Dean and Ellen down a hushed hallway, the beeping of machines and huffing of ventilators the only sounds escaping the doorways as they passed. Dean looked around for a trash can, the painkillers in his stomach threatening to come back up. Ellen took his hand and pulled him into a room. 
Jo was hooked up to more machines than should have fit in the tiny room. Her hair was matted with blood and she was drowning in the hospital gown. Her beautiful face was swollen and red, the bruises still forming where she hit the passenger side window— or maybe that was the dashboard, Dean couldn’t tell she was so misshapen.
“Oh, Jo,” Dean’s voice broke. He stopped himself from saying anything as the nurse talked, but all he wanted to do was sob.
 He didn’t realize he had let go of Ellen’s hand until he was clenching the rail along Jo’s bedside. Ellen stood on the other side of her, carefully brushing the hair out of Jo’s beaten face. Her one arm was framed in a metal fixator, skin angry from where the bone sliced her open from the inside. Her leg was in a brace, but at least that meant those bones were more salvageable.
“What happened?” Dean said eventually, unsure of when the nurse left. He eyed the machines tracking Jo’s heart rate, but he wasn’t sure if the readings were good or bad.
“Someone was driving on the wrong side of the road— couldn’t see the lines and Y/N swerved to miss them, they spun out and the other car didn’t stop. They took her to surgery– her right knee was shattered.”
“Jo took the brunt of it,” Dean stated the obvious, still too terrified to reach out and touch Jo. She was suddenly so very fragile.
Ellen sniffed.
“They are watching for internal bleeding before they’ll operate. Her brain—," Ellen couldn’t finish.
“Hey,” Dean rushed around the bed and pulled Ellen against his chest, finally giving his hands something to do. “They’re doing everything they can.”
“It’s not enough,” Ellen argued.
“I know,” Dean agreed, squeezing her tighter.
Ellen pulled back and wiped her eyes, muttering to herself about going soft. Dean needed to give her a moment, hell, he needed a minute to catch his breath. He told her he was going to find coffee and she told him they had a waiting area down the hall. He nearly ran out of Jo’s room.
He checked his watch, it was just after ten o’clock. And as exhausted and hungover as Dean felt, he was pretty sure Ellen hadn’t slept at all after closing the bar. He wondered if she’d even made it home before getting the call. He found the coffee maker and pushed a button for something hot and thin and caffeinated. He wondered if Y/N had passed a breathalyzer, knowing how much Jo had been drinking didn’t make him certain her driver was much better off.
He was gonna be sick again.
He left the paper cup on the grate and fell into one of the stiff plastic chairs around the small table. He put his head between his knees and breathed, resting on his elbows. Dean counted the flecks in the white linoleum squares beneath his feet.
Nothing made sense. They were just getting started. Last night there was the impossible giddiness of seeing her in person after so long and now the unabashed horror of her mother sneaking him into the hospital as her fiance so he could see her before…
She was eighteen-fucking-years-old and he was going to lose her.
And it was all his fault.
He stared at the floor until he couldn’t anymore. The coffee was nothing more than a passing burn on the way to his knotted stomach. But he couldn’t stop the tears and he wouldn’t go back to Ellen until they were dry, she needed him to be better than that. When he couldn’t cry anymore and after he used his last single for a pack of peanut M&Ms, Dean went back to Jo’s room.
Ellen was asleep in an ugly mauve chair with her hand clutching Jo’s good ankle over the thin hospital blanket. Dean found another blanket from a CNA and tucked it around Ellen’s shoulders. He stood guard, through Ellen’s brief nap and the three o’clock shift change, even after Sam came by with lunch but left because he wasn’t allowed on the ward.
The seizures started around five and Ellen and Dean were asked to wait outside. Before six, she was wheeled away from them into emergency surgery and by seven she was gone. Dean had to hold Ellen back from slugging the surgeon. He caught her when she finally sank into reality, and somehow Dean found more tears.
Nothing felt real, least of all Dean himself.
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Adam looked Dean in the eye and grinned.
“Get over here you little shit, I told you to stop growing the last time I saw you didn’t I?” Dean hugged his youngest brother hard, thumping him on the back as he rocked from foot to foot. “Good to see you, man.”
“You too,” Adam grunted out before Dean could release him.
Then came John, waiting for Dean as he walked through the front door. They didn’t say anything, just gave each other the once over and went in for the hug. John held him tight until he cleared his throat, stepping away from the vulnerable moment. Sam came in with his bags and hugged Kate first, who had been waiting in the hallway to the kitchen.
“Sammy,” John said, holding out his arms.
“Hey Dad,” Sam hugged with genuine warmth on his face, Dean never thought he’d see the day. But time does things to a person, and forgiveness was always Sam’s superpower.
“You boys hungry? I can reheat dinner, I know you’ve been on the road, wasn’t sure when you’d get in,” Kate offered as Dean went in for the obligatory hug. She had colored her hair, instead of her natural blonde it was a mature auburn, covering the gray and giving her a different air.
“Don’t worry about us, we can scavenge for something later,” Dean assured her. “I like your hair.”
That startled her. “Oh! Thank you, yeah I just figured I’d do something different for winter, you know.”
“Don’t she look good? I told her redheads are feisty,” John teased, wrapping his arm around her waist.
“Gross,” Adam called on the way to the basement, where Sam had headed down to watch him finish his game.
“Beer?” John offered and Dean gladly accepted.
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Arriving three days early was pushing their luck, Dean knew that, but there was nothing keeping him in LA. And after the novelty of catching up and last minute shopping in the tiny downtown of Mills’ Crossing, there wasn’t much more small talk to be had. 
Naturally, John started it. But it was over Sam that had Dean’s hackles up first. They were sitting down for a late lunch, having gone to church as a family for the first time since Kate and John got married when John made a comment about it was good to see Sam’s forearms ‘healthy’. 
What he meant was he was proud of Sam for kicking his habit, for staying clean. What John didn’t know was that Sam was so good at hiding it, Dean had to check between his toes before he finally got him into rehab the last time. Seven years since Sam had kicked it and John still needed to point it out.
The jam session that night seemed to clear the air. Adam had decided he was a drummer sometime after Dean and Sam’s first platinum album so John built him an entire soundproof room in the basement to go wild. Which meant the Winchester men were a full four piece, if they got to pick their parts. Dean abstained from playing lead because it was John’s house after all, but the old man’s hands weren’t what they used to be. And that gave Dean a little bit of satisfaction.
They rolled through the classics, even playing a couple of Phantom Traveler’s songs that didn’t rely too much on the keys. Dean made John sing though, laughing when he made up his own lyrics.
They ended the night with a drunken, almost punk rendition of Jingle Bell Rock after which Kate shut the lights out on them and told them to go to bed.
Christmas Eve was boring, Dean had gotten stir crazy and kept checking his phone. He knew you had gotten in the night before, but he couldn’t justify trying to hang out while you had such little time with your family as it was. Sam gave him a look and they started playing poker, teasing Adam that he needed to know every version of the game if he was gonna hold his own one day. 
Kate wiped the floor with them all.
They had eggnog and exchanged one round of gifts before going to bed, no expectations of Santa Claus or any set wake up time scheduled. It was just another day. Dean barely slept, anxiety churning inside him. He tried meditating. He even prayed, but God, who was understandably busy that night, didn’t save him. Because he woke up with a bug up his ass and, naturally, his father was the first one to point it out.
“You kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?” John asked after Dean cursed at Adam’s obnoxious ringtone.
“Do a lot more with it than that,” Dean muttered before he could stop himself.
“Dean Winchester,” John snapped as if Dean was still sixteen, still living under his roof.
“Oh, come on, kids in college, he’s heard worse,” Dean griped, going back to his coffee.
It all went downhill from there. Naturally, Adam got the lion’s share of gifts. Sam and Dean didn’t need anything, but it was so uneven it looked like John and Kate didn’t even remember they were coming to visit. Meanwhile, John’s plasma screen had arrived two days earlier and Sam and Dean were tasked with installing it in the living room midmorning.
Nothing says family time like manual labor and micromanagement.
Dean started drinking before Kate had taken the ham out of the oven. And while Sam wasn’t exactly keeping track, Dean felt like he was asking for whatever bitchface he got next. He just couldn’t stop himself once he started snarking.
Adam was telling them about the musical composition class he had finished and how he had written something for a string quartet. 
“Our new keyboard player went to Julliard, you should send it to him,” Dean said off the cuff, before shoving some venison sausage in his mouth from the snack trays Kate put out.
“So you upgraded from Cas officially now?” John asked suspiciously.
“Dad, Cas left the band last spring, of course we made it official,” Sam cut in. John already knew this.
“I know, I just hoped you boys would work it out.”
Dean laughed darkly. “Nothing to work out. Dude left, we moved on.”
“And why did he leave exactly?” John goaded Dean.
Dean rolled his eyes, John was one to talk. He had pissed off half of all musicians between the Rockies and New Orleans before he hung it up.
“Let’s call it the Winchester temper and leave it at that,” Dean smiled without teeth, then popped more snacks into his mouth.
“Yeah, cuz the Campbell blood held only saints,” John muttered.
“Dad!” Sam admonished.
“That’s fucking rich! Talking about her when she’s not here to call you on your shit. I fucking punched Cas, alright?! You happy?! And who, DAD, taught me how to do that? Huh? Winchester temper. Not Campbell. That one was all from you.”
John stepped into Dean’s space, but spoke to Sam. “Sam, take your brother outside for a walk to cool down before dinner.”
Sam grunted in confirmation.
“Watch how you talk to me in my own home, Dean. Or I’ll show you a Winchester temper,” John said lowly. “You understand?”
Dean rolled his shoulders and looked his father in the eye. “Who exactly paid for this house again, Dad? Yeah, I’ll talk to you how you deserve it. I’m out of here.”
Dean felt Adam watching from the corner as Kate pulled John out of the kitchen and into their bedroom to give him a piece of her mind. Sam nodded at their younger brother, silently thanking him for holding down the fort as Dean stormed out the front door.
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The Roadhouse was blissfully the same, with only a handful of beaten down cars in the parking lot. Dean had spent enough Christmases at bars or taverns throughout his life, but now he just wanted something that felt like home to get through this tightness in his chest. What they found inside was something altogether more special.
Ellen’s entire face lit up as they walked in, an empty plate in front of her and Garth manning the food line. Dean got his hug in first, but Sam took his time asking about what was going on. Then you were there, and Dean felt a hot shame creep up because he was this close to falling into old patterns. And that wasn’t how he ever wanted you to see him. He zipped his lips, pleading with himself to get a handle on his temper already.
He felt you breathe him in, the truth was never hard for you to suss out. And yet Dean held on, needing you close, being stupid and selfish as ever.
They took their free meal and ducked into a corner, watching as Ellen played angel to the downtrodden of Boone county. Slowly, Dean was able to set his shit aside. With Sam talking about anything and everything across from him; he accepted his resentment for his father, his frustration at himself and the stupid fucking feelings he had for you. It all seemed much more manageable when faced with people who had to get over much bigger obstacles with so much less. There was one more thing he promised he’d do while he was home, now that he’d visited Ellen. And he double checked that Sam was still good to go with him, to be his chauffeur.
They helped clean up, though Ellen moved a mile a minute and did tasks faster than she could explain them. And then Ellen was handing you off like a Christmas present, one that Dean couldn’t ever accept. 
Ellen said her goodbyes and left Dean standing in the parking lot without much of a guess on what you wanted to do next.
“I guess we better get going,” he said, asking Sam more than anything.
Then Sam reminded Dean about the cemetery and a new wave of guilt seeped into Dean’s stomach. When it came to Jo, you had first dibs. She was your best friend and Dean’d be damned if he’d visit her without you getting a chance to too. As macabre as it was, he felt he owed it to you.
You looked like you were going to be ill.
“Maybe we should ask her if she wants to go,” he told Sam, searching your eyes for permission at the very least.
You took your time with the idea, but turned him down. “If it’s okay, would you mind dropping me off first? I know it’s in the other direction.”
Dean felt you sinking behind a wall the further they got from the Roadhouse, you asked questions and made conversation, but you weren’t really in it. He probably shouldn’t have brought up Jo, but with Ellen and Christmas and the Roadhouse, she was already everywhere anyway. 
They let you out at your parents’ and headed back across town. The streets were almost empty with the sacredness of the holiday. The cemetery was decorated in pine wreaths and cheap red ribbons. The narrow paths were  silent beneath their feet. Dean had thought he knew what he wanted to say when he decided to take this little side quest to see Jo.
What he said once Sam was safely back inside the Charger was something else entirely.
“So, I’ve been better. Not like I’m bad now, but I’ve been doing actually better. I was a mess for a long time. And not just from you, but a lot of shit. And last year, I guess earlier this year really, I kind of imploded. I started hurting people, like actually hurting them and justified it to myself somehow. Then I pushed Cas away from helping me, after breaking his nose. And well, the bands a lot different now. But we’re still doing it. 
Look, Jo, I know you wanted me to live my dreams and see the world. Things I always wish you could have done. But sometimes dreams are regular everyday things, like bringing home pie or having somebody to say goodnight to. And I haven’t let myself have dreams in a long, long time. But I think maybe I’m starting to again.
And I just need you to know that I’m gonna be okay. And I am gonna do what I can to keep your people safe, because they’re my people now too, you know? You gave me another mom and a best friend without even meaning to. And we all miss you like crazy. But, we’re okay. Merry Christmas, beautiful. I  hope the angels pull out all the stops up there.”
Dean exhaled, his nose thick and eyes stinging in the cold air. He wiped his face and looked at Jo’s name one more time before turning back towards the road. Sam waited until Dean was buckled in before asking, “you good?”
“Yeah, man. Let’s get back before I cause more of a sensation,” Dean said, not meeting Sam’s eyes.
“Okay,” was all Sam said.
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Tagging:
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@cosicas-cuquis
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Chapter 15: Rubato
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himebushou · 1 year
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For @redlenai! Please take this as a token of my gratitude for pyromaniac!Miri, lol. ❤
Vitality
Perhaps purchasing the console had been a deliberate ploy on Kurusu’s part – something to make Rei sluggish and sloth-like.
The first time Rei had picked up a controller, he’d died within five minutes of starting Zombies Attack.  That was annoying.  So he’d tried again.  And again.  And soon, he found himself spending more and more time in the living room, killing targets on the enormous television screen when he wasn’t killing targets for work. 
Kurusu seemed to think this was a good thing.  He kept cooking, but wouldn’t allow Rei to eat if seated anywhere but at the table.  Yanking Rei into a chair when he’d tried to take his rice bowl back to the sofa, Kurusu had chided, “Give your eyes a break!  Besides, you can’t hold a controller and chopsticks at the same time!”
Just who did this guy think he was?
Two weeks had passed since the console had made its way into their – Rei’s! – home.  Things were quiet, mostly, and since Kurusu did all the shopping, there hadn’t been any need to leave the apartment for a glorious twelve days.  Rei was becoming something of a shut-in, apparently.
Then, one morning, cruel reality struck Rei.  He stood up, stretched – and heard several bones click all at once.  He hadn’t exercised in forever.
Hmm.
It was time to go to the gym.
It took Rei a few moments to remember that he didn’t know where the gym was and a few more moments to remember that the phone in his pocket could provide that information.  Thankfully, it turned out that there was a gym a short walk away.  Rei could get in a decent workout, come home, eat whatever lunch Kurusu put together and get some sleep all before noon.
He was a short distance from the front door when it opened.  In staggered Kurusu, yawning, stinking.  “Morning,” he said, blinking blearily.  “You’re going out?  That makes a change.”
“Yeah,” said Rei.  Then, deciding that it would be ‘polite’ to keep talking, he added, “I’m hitting the gym.”
Suddenly, Kurusu snapped to attention – fully alert.  Rei started; why couldn’t this guy be that attentive in other situations?  Kurusu said, “You’re not serious, right?  You can’t.”
Rei scowled.  “Why not?”
“Hmm, let me think.  That,” Kurusu pointed at Rei’s shoulder, “might be one reason?”
Rei glanced at his shirt sleeve, mystified.  Kurusu said an awful lot that didn’t make any sense.  He gave Kurusu a quizzical look and the other slapped a palm against his forehead, grunting, “Push it up, moron.”
Still scowling, Rei followed Kurusu’s command.
Oh.
That thing?
“What’s the problem?”
Within a second, Kurusu had crossed over to Rei; a few more heartbeats and he was gripping Rei’s shoulders, shaking him viciously.  It was odd: Kurusu was surprisingly strong for someone who could be such a deadweight.  He hissed, “Idiot!  What kind of people have gunshot wounds?  You think the other guys at the gym aren’t going to ask questions?  Report you to the police?”
“I wouldn’t say anything,” Rei sulked.
“Good news!” Kurusu loosened his grip and whipped out his phone.  He spun it in one hand.  “I’m going to teach you about the miracles of modern tech.  I’m ordering you a treadmill, Rich Boy.  That way, you can work out right here.  At home.  Where it’s safe.”
Huh.  That sounded… convenient.
A few swipes later, Kurusu announced, “Done!  It’s being delivered tomorrow.  It’ll be here any time after seven am, so you can wait up for it.  Don’t bother,” he added, noticing that Rei was about to protest the horrific hour, “it’s your treadmill so it’s your responsibility.”
“Freeloader,” grumbled Rei.
“Skeleton,” Kurusu sang.  He took Rei’s shoulders again and turned him around.  “C’mon – let’s get some breakfast in you.”
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peiches · 4 years
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Songbird
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader!
Summary: Bucky needs sleep, a little music, and playing with his hair will do the trick.
Words: 1.3k
A/N: I’m back on my Bucky train y’all. Hi, hello. I honestly don’t know if this is any good butttttt, I listened to Fleetwood Mac- Songbird and when I tell you I was all in my feels. I hope you enjoy and if you do give it a little heart! (P.S. I found the image above on Pinterest and attempted so hard to give the right owner credit but it never popped up, so if you guys do find them, please let me know, or if this is your art and I’m not allowed to use it also please let me know and I will take it down immediately!) Now onto the short.
It wasn't uncommon for Bucky to not be able to sleep, he would be riddled with nightmares and sometimes he would wake up screaming in the middle of the night. He didn’t bring much attention to it until he was actually with you, until you actually noticed. First you noticed that he was awake before anyone else, he would be first one at the gym on a treadmill running like if something was chasing him, his gray sweatshirt would be dripping as he got off and his hair matted to his forehead, and when you would ask if he was okay, he would just brush it off. The second time you had noticed was when he leaned in the fridge to get himself a glass of orange juice, the tension in between his shoulders when moved, and when you placed your hand on his shoulder, he flinched. Finally what drew the line was in the middle of the night when you went to get a glass of water, you heard the soft hum of the TV and you saw him staring blankly at the TV trying to not doze off, you noticed the dark circles under his eyes.
You had convinced him finally to lay down with you for an afternoon nap after dinner, he had complained at first saying that he would never be able to nap. When you laid down first and dragged him on top of you he finally shut up. You made him lay between your legs as he rested his head on your chest. You started playing music on your phone and set it down. What you noticed was that Bucky wouldn't actually toss and turn, the most he would do is fidget with his hands, he kept rubbing circles on your bare skin, rubbing up and down your arms.
“Bucky, this isn’t resting.” You chastised lightly.
You felt him smile and he looked up at you, “Sorry, I told you I couldn’t nap.”
“That sergeant,” you said tapping his nose, “Is because you’re not trying.” Pressing a kiss on his forehead.
After some time he started breathing in and out evenly as you rubbed his back, his shoulders starting to relax a little. Fifteen minutes passed as Bucky laid there with you rubbing his shoulders and back, when you felt him tense again and started muttering no. He began shaking his head back and forth, muttering to himself, squeezing your arms. You kept calling his name, whispering in his ear trying to calm him down. He finally shot up from bed pushing you away lightly. He looked at your arms, his hand imprints on them, he could make out every finger.
He glanced up at you, and turned away just as quickly, putting his head between his knees. “This is why I don’t want to sleep in here with you. I’m a mess.” He said tugging at his hair.
“Bucky…” You set your hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to turn to you.
He recoiled away, “I shouldn’t even be here, I should go.”
“Buck, come here.”
“I’ll just hurt you again.” He said trying to stand where he was sitting at the edge of the bed.
Grabbing his hand you tugged him back towards you, “No you won’t, come here.”
You set him back between you, he was perfectly slotted. You set his head on your chest again and placed a blanket on top of both of you. His breathing was still a bit ragged.
“I can still hear them you know, can still see them in my dreams.”
You spread your hands on his back, digging your fingers into his spine.
“I don’t want to go back there.” He whispered into the crook of your neck.
“For you, there'll be no more crying.
For you, the sun will be shining.
And I feel that when I'm with you,
It's alright, I know it's right.
You squeezed him tighter in your arms, “Bucky, this is a hug. This right here is what you do is when you care about them and you want them to know that. Buck, I don’t know what to say and quite honestly this is the most I can do.” You muttered to him.
Feeling drops of water falling on your chest, “This is enough, more than enough.” He pressed into your body even more.
You started humming along to the song that started emitting from your speakers. You felt as he got comfortable again, shifting into place, his head nuzzled into your neck. Feeling his eyelids flutter close as you started scratching the the hair on the back of his neck. A moan emitting from his throat when your fingers intertwined his hair and twirled a strand, and the tension in his shoulders gave as he let the rest of his body weight on top of you.
“To you, I'll give the world.
To you, I'll never be cold.
'Cause I feel that when I'm with you,
It's alright, I know it's right.”
Bucky smelled of coconut and rosewood, a scent you found comforting as your eyes fluttered open, your hands tangling in his hair again. He shifted and you felt his lips pressing sleepy open mouth kissed on your chest. His legs were tangled with yours underneath the covers. He lifted his head and gave you a crooked smiled, his hands trailing up your sides and arms, his fingers spreading as he gripped your arms sending a shiver down your spine. He pulled up and gave you a kiss, the pads of your fingers scratching his scalp, everything about him was soft int the mornings.
“That’s the best I slept in months,” He murmured against your lips.
Your heart melted at that, as he kept pressing kisses, and whispering sleepy comments as the song played again in the background.
“And the songbirds are singing, like they know the score.
And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before.
And I wish you all the love in the world.
But most of all, I wish it from myself.”
Sleep filled baby blue eyes looked up at you as he laughed at something that was on TV. Small smiles, open mouthed kisses, giggles, and tight hugs were shared that day. It was like that all day, Bucky was well rested but he wanted to spend all day relaxing. His head was resting on your stomach when he looked up at you again, brushing the brown locks away from his face, and caressing his cheek as he placed a kiss to your palm, he sang the last lyrics to the song.
“And the songbirds keep singing, like they know the score
And I love you, I love you, I love you
Like never before, like never before, like never before.”
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youarejesting · 5 years
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BTS Reactions: 07 Singing/Rapping/Dancing
[MASTERLIST] Requests open!
Ever your jester.
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Seokjin: Lover - Taylor Swift
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Jin had never heard you sing before not even for his birthday. He knew you were too shy and he thought it was cute. Occasionally he would hear you hum a sweet melody and he would quietly listen loving the sound of your voice. But you were in a particularly good mood, quietly watching you shake your hips while making pancakes. 
Your voice was soft and sweet it was unlike your speaking voice which was a little deeper. The sound had control and you sang with ease forgetting your boyfriend was an international pop star. But it had been a while since you had sang anything, and the song on the radio was too enticing not to sing along to.
‘Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home You're my, my, my, my lover’
Jin leaned on the fridge and closed his eyes. To Jin your voice was like the first bite of a strawberry it was sweet and refreshing. He left his phone on top of the fridge to record the beautiful sound while he stepped out of the room so you weren’t interrupted. It was a sound he saved and listened to whenever he was stressed or on tour.
Yoongi: Earthquake - Labrinth (All stars remix) ft.  Tinie Tempah, Kano, Wretch 32 & Busta Rhymes
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Yoongi was sitting in his office when heard rapping from somewhere in the house, he had heard you sing and even jokingly rap his songs and mimic his rapping style before. But this was serious spit fire. He entered the bedroom and the sound was louder but he soon realized you were in the shower. 
‘I rock all my clothes like a hipster And I rock them shades like a G That girl be definitely coming if she's coming with me I'm like a hundred degrees man I'm even hotter than August’
Yoongi’s smirked he hopped the August comment wasn’t directed at him and his alter ego Agust D. He leaned against the door listening impressed as you didn’t get out of breath you as you rapped the third verse. 
It was when you hit the fourth and final verse he ripped open the door and through the steam he stared at you with wide eyes and his mouth open. You had not only continued rapping you picked up the pace and rapped faster.
‘T-Trust me homie Do not walk up in my shadow Just respect my handle while we bang and make the Earth rattle’
“Marry me” He grinned
Hoseok: Danger - BTS
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You remember the day you had first danced with Hoseok, it was a long day and you were trying to help with the choreography for Danger. Hoseok always refused help even though you were one of the many hired choreographers for the group. So for almost a whole year you just sat and watched and ran errands for the boys.
Hoseok wasn’t stuck up he just preferred making his own original content and no matter how hard you tried to explain he wouldn’t even let non members of back up dancers dance beside him or give him input he was too focused.
He never told you but he really liked you, you were a really cool, street fashion queen and he didn’t like being left alone with you. He wouldn’t look at you and tried not to listen when you spoke because the way you pronounced your Korean words with your cute accent got to him. 
It was like your words were slurred but not in an annoying drunk kind of way more of a sexy drawl that made Hoseok himself feel he was intoxicated by every word.
When all the others left and you two were the only ones left he finally took a break grumbling unhappily. He was taking a drink and sitting down, so you took the chance. You had watched the choreography for weeks and you knew what was missing. While he was changing his shirt and wiping his hair with a dry towel, you played the song on the stereo and got into position.
You danced and were making noises under your breathe as Korean wasn’t your first language you didn’t try to sing. You went about adjusting a few moves and adding to the area’s he was stuck on with ease. You saw his face in the mirror as he watched you dancing and it you were having fun with the chorus you were making a few noises as you went.
You noticed he had started smiling and you grinned and finished, “I’m here to help and sometimes it helps watching someone else dance you choreography to help with ideas. Will you let me help, Hoseok Oppa?”
Namjoon: Expensive Girl - RM
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In the middle of a VLive Namjoon heard something strangely familiar but he couldn’t quite place it, he paused identifying that it was you who was singing. It was smooth, sultry and a little breathy. He smiled at the camera and ran a hand through his hair.
‘Girl,  You’re the medicine patch that slowly eases my motion sickness Wherever I go I’ll have it under my ear The time it takes to fall for you takes 3 seconds But  I feel as though you’re the meaning of my eternity’
“Y/N is singing, I know the song from somewhere but I don’t know where its from. Also she is really good. WOW! my girlfriend can sing” he picked up the camera and began walking to the door. He opened it and saw you slowly singing his song in English while gently brushing your hair.
‘Take  it off now girl just take it off I’m a master, baby with your bra Take it off now girl just take it off I can help you slide those-’ 
“BABE no” he screeched and you turned confused looking at his blushing face the tips of his ears were red and he gestured to the camera “Don’t sing that in front of the Army’s”
“Dim the lights down baby, Dim the-”  With eyes locked on his you smirked and continued but you screamed and ran as he chased you through the house. The camera in his hand shakily filming and the audience squealing in the comments.
Jimin:  f**k, I'm Lonely - Lauv ft. Anne-Marie
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You were told to meet the boys in the practice room at 3pm after there meeting, but you assumed the meeting was still going as they weren’t there, you waited ten minutes and was getting kind of bored. You went to the sound system and hit play to see what was in there, it was a song you knew pretty well.
You started to mess around and make up a mock routine, the song soon died out and they still weren’t there. Sighing you turned the song back on and went through the routine again and added some more moves. You were soon up to the seventh repeat and you were getting more confident and a little more adventurous with your moves.
You were singing and dancing, your body seemed to just now how to move. You didn’t hear the door open due to the music and your eyes were locked on the way you moved as you perfected the choreography.
‘Yeah, I still watch the shows you showed me I still drink that wine, But these days it tastes more bitter than sweet, hmm And all my friends are way too drunk to save me from my phone So sorry if I say some things I mean’ 
You were singing loudly, proud of your voice. It was a strong soprano and you held it well while dancing and you let yourself be taken over the music. With a one handed back flip a break dancing move that you learnt as a teen, you stood up and rolled your head with ease singing the chorus while body rolling to the beat.
‘F**k, I'm lonely, I'm lonely, I'm lonely as F**k, come hold me, come hold me, come hold me It's been me myself and why Did you go? Did you go?’
Jimin was watching biting his bottom lip turned on by the dance you were doing, he had never seen his cute little girlfriend do anything provocative. He couldn’t help it and joined in on the last chorus trying out your moves and grinning at your blushing face.
Taehyung: Fly me to the moon - Frank Sinatra
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You were standing in front of the upright piano, you use to play before your brother died on the way to your recital. Your fingers gently twitching by your side playing invisible keys. It wasn’t your first time at the boys dorm but you were usually distracted by their shenanigans to have time to thinks about the ominous instrument in the corner.
However half of the boys left to dance practice and the others were in their rooms, the living room was empty and Taehyung went to get the food and drinks from the delivery guy at the front doors of the apartment. You sat on the old stool and raised the wooden key cover, hands shaking you were startled by Jin.
“You are allowed to play it, no one else does” He smiled and you jumped and he laughed “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you” 
He ducked off to his room giggling and you got up the courage to strike a key, the sound flooding the house and you let out a breath feeling the sound fill your body. You realized your hands were no longer shaking when you heard a beautiful melody and you couldn’t help singing along.
‘Fly me to the moon Let me play among the stars Let me see what spring is like on A-Jupiter and Mars‘
Whoever was playing was good and your body was swaying, Taehyung’s voice joined yours and you opened your eyes smiling only to realize you were the one playing. The music halted with a jarring sound as your hand slipped hitting the wrong keys.
“You sing really pretty baby bear” He smiled and kissed your cheek and placed the food on the coffee table, “You should play more often, I didn’t know you could. And your singing is really pretty... why are you crying?”
Jungkook: Who you? - GDragon
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‘Baby I love you ireoke malhajiman nae maeumeun waenji hanado jochi anha I want you  I need you’ 
You were singing G-Dragon’s song ‘who you?’, while casually walking on the treadmill, you were winding down after your workout and having a blast singing forgetting that your headphones were on and singing as loud as you wanted.
Jungkook stepped into the gym with his Personal Trainer and the small camera crew for his Vlogs and grinned “Ah I didn’t know Y/N Noona was such a great singer, this is the first time i have heard her singing. We both share a love for Kwon Ji-yong Sunbaenim” 
He started working out with his PT watching you singing and walking on the treadmill, he found himself out of breath quite quickly. He was too busy watching you singing happily your voice and body enticing him as you seemed to all but strut on the treadmill.
‘Du du du du du du du Du du du du du du du Du du du du du du du Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh’
“Ah Noona is so distracting” he whined as he got scolded by the PT and he hummed pulling out his phone and calling Namjoon. “Hey do you think you can get Kwon Ji-yong Sunbaenim’s number, I want to ask him out for dinner with Y/N”
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malifikook · 6 years
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Gym Affairs
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you swear the gym was never this exciting before.
pairings: Yoongi x Reader, (slight vmin)
warnings: yoongi’s kinda a gym trainer but not really, slight smut, vmin flirting, my poor attempt at a birthday gift fic for Yoongi (I know im a day late, bear with me), typos might be there, way too long to be a one part fic lol
You swear the gym was never this exciting.
Before it used to be boring and monotonous, a chore in your already in busy life that used up too much of your precious time. You knew that you were bettering your life this way, getting into better shape and getting that dream body you had always sighed at whenever you encountered a picture of it while scrolling on Instagram, but still, it was horrible.
Because the gym was sweaty and crowded, full of men and women who had the same determined faces that never smiled back whenever you offered one, and you had assumed that, maybe, the gyms were the worst place to befriend anyone.
Your assumption was quickly shot down when you met Kim Taehyung. Clad in fucking Gucci from top to toe, he was easily the most noticeable person in the gym. You had spotted him on his first day awkwardly staring at the treadmill with his hands worrying a towel that had a sign which awfully resembled two Gs.
“It’s not a hard equipment to master.” You had piped up from behind him, hopping to stand next to him and outstretch a hand. “I’m ____, you?”
“Kim Taehyung,” he had responded easily, grasping your hand before pouting at the equipment. “Do you know how to work this?”
Oh boy, did you. You had enough mess ups and falls from enough treadmills to work your way around them.
You had helped Taehyung that day, and you two had grown close quickly. You two shared everything the together, all your secrets and hidden stories, over lunches and coffees and even, rarely, sleep overs.
It was around two months after meeting Taehyung when you were jogging steadily on your usual treadmill, hair tied up in a ponytail in a way that swung as you ran. You felt Taehyung gaze at you, his arms propped up on the arm rests of the machine as he hummed in contemplation, his treadmill turned off.
“So what do you think of Min Yoongi from the front desk?”
You nearly lost your footing at that, stumbling slightly to keep up with oh so sudden fast pace of the machine, blinking your features back into place. “W-Whatta ya mean?”
“I mean,” Taehyung sang, “Whenever I bring him handsome boy, you always tense up like I’ve shoved some vibrator up your ass.”
You winced at the imagery, hand coming front to up the speed of the run. “My butt just clenched, please stop. And no I do not tense up, what does that even mean?”
“Oh you know,” Taehyung said smugly, wiggling his eyebrows at you when you spared him a disgusted glance before carrying on, “Well if you don’t make a move on him I will.”
You glanced at him, confused, focus now turning to him as you slowed your jog. “Huh?” 
“You do know that I’m gay right.” Taehyung dead-panned.
At that you lost your footing and you tripped over your shoes, sending you flying forward and off the machine in a pile of loud smashes and groans as you rolled to the floor in pain. You groaned, hand coming up to massage your nose as you sat up on the ground. “Ow, fuck.”
“Anyways,” Taehyung continued, unfazed, as he turned to lean against the head of the machine. “Yoongi’s not really my type, so rest easy.”
“And who is?” You snorted - partly because you wanted to check if your nose was still working.
“Park Jimin.” Taehyung sighed dreamily, his eyes drifting off as if automatically to the dance rooms, and the two of you listened to the heavy beat that thrummed from the room. 
You two glanced at each other. “He does have a great butt.” You admitted, giving back the cheeky grin Taehyung wiggled at you and just as you were about to ask him to help you up, thundering steps came from the side staircase before - 
A panting Min Yoongi stood at the stop of the staircase, his striped t-shirt bearing a few wet spots that most likely came from the younger children who’d splash like maniacs in the pool area with his blonde hair messed up.
“I heard someone fall.” He gulped, regaining his breath before his eyes flicking from Taehyung to you. His eyes suddenly flattened. “Oh, it’s you who fell.”
Indignation rose up in your throat. “Excuse me!” You hissed. “Aren’t you supposed to be worried about me? Like - I’m on the fucking floor!”
Yoongi sighed, bringing a hand up to knead at his forehead before dropping his hand down to slap against his thigh. He glanced at Taehyung. “What were you talking about this time?”
You winced, having leaned back on your hands to relieve some of the pressure and your legs, eyes quickly flicking up to Taehyung. Your warning gaze had him stuttering for a second.
“Oh no,” Taehyung dropped his hands down from the machine to step off, bringing himself onto his tip toes as he exaggerated his stretch. “It seems like it’s my Yoga time. Toodles!”
You watched with your jaw dropped as the Gucci clad boy picked up his duffel bag and circled around Yoongi to get to the staircase, his gaze on you for a second to wink at you before disappearing down the staircase.
Unbelievable, you thought to yourself as you pushed to your feet. I’m gonna fucking skewer him the next time I see him.
“This is the third time, ________,”  Yoongi sighed, and it was only then did you look up, startled, and studied him. The under bags underneath his eyes were growing darker and the shirt he wore seemed too big for his body. “You can’t keep doing this, you’ll not only damage the property but your own body.”
Your cheeks burned with shame, lips pursing around as you ducked your head, running a hand through your hair. Your eyes flicked back up at Yoongi.
Have you eaten? is what you wanted to ask him, eyes flicking down to your hands as your ears burned with embarrassment as Yoongi gazed at you again. Are you skipping your meals as usual?
But none of those questions left your mouth. Dissatisfied with yourself, you took slow steps to your bag, crouching down to gather all your items before pushing to your feet. Turning around, you saw Yoongi at the stairs, hand on the railing as he watched you. 
You followed him down the stairs in silence, the change in the atmosphere so drastic you found yourself staring at the wooden table that belonged to the front desk of the gym thinking what did I do wrong?
“Hey,” Yoongi’s soft voice made your head jerk up and bring you back down to the earth. You met Yoongi’s relaxed gaze, a slight tug of his lips as he outstretched your card back to you. “Go home, I think you overworked yourself. Not to mention your bad fall.”
You winced, giving him back a tiny smile, before grasping the card and stuffing it back in your wallet, feet taking you to the exit.
“Goodbye Yoongi,” you called out, giving him a wave which he reciprocated, although a bit lazier, his elbows folded atop the table and his body leaning forward.
You stepped outside the gym, the air hot and stuffy and your cursed your choice of outfit, wiping a hand down your neck as you tried to shake of unwanted sweat. 
Just as you turned around the corner, you came to a halt and yanked your phone out, your mind repeating like a mantra: I’m gonna fucking kill you, Kim Taehyung.
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“So what you’re saying is - ”
“I’m not saying anything, Kim.”
“ - that if Yoongi were to come up and ask you out on a date - ”
“Oh my god, Taehyung, quit it!” you slammed your hand down on the bouncy ball, trying to convey your anger in the best way, only for the wretched ball to bounce up in the air and drop back down with a loud boing!
You two made eye contact and that set off Taehyung into a pile of laughter, his arms coming around his waist as he laughed. “Y-You really tried I can’t.”
“Stop talking about him,” you tried again, this time feebly, eyes flickering around just in case. The stretching room was right in the centre of the ground floor and if anyone was to stand in the front they’d hear you. 
And the last thing you needed was for your gym trainer to find about your crush on him.
“Mmm,” Taehyung gave back a non-committal hum as he stretched, smirking when you glared at him. He just missed the ball you had thrown at him and you cursed your awful aiming skills in that moment.
A wave of vanilla curled right under your nose and without looking you knew who it was. Taehyung also seemed to know since his eyes perked up, body straightening, hands grasping the ball you had thrown at him.
“____!” 
The famous brown haired dancer appeared from the entrance, his movements smooth as he crossed over the wooden flooring, gentle eyes meeting yours. “How are you?” he pouted. “You haven’t attended a single of my class since the new semester started.”
You laughed, unfolding your legs out as you bent to hold the tips of your toes. “I’m a broke college kid, Jimin. And your classes aren’t cheap.”
It was true. Park Jimin wasn’t just known for his good looks - although he could be; the guy was the definition of handsome, with his sharp gaze yet soft, warm smile, his tiny, slim body, but fierce and rough dance moves - he was a living paradox.
But no, Park Jimin was known for his famous dance classes. People from all over the country, and some real eager students sometimes from abroad, came and studied under Park Jimin. The boy was a millionaire at the age of 23, and yet he chose to hold his classes at a measly gym on the 23rd Block.
This was partly due to the fact that Jimin and Yoongi went way back. Many stories were recounted by Jimin on nights spent in the dance studio and you’d keep him company, and you found out that Yoongi had taken care of Jimin when no had ever offered to.
That, to your displeasure, did not help the stupid crush you had on him.
“Well I’m off.” Jimin smiled at you, walking around the circle you and Taehyung had formed. 
As he rounded behind Taehyung, he leaned down, slowly and swiftly, to bring his hand down to tickle at Taehyung’s neck - and you knew from a hundred tickle fights that that was in fact Taehyung’s weak spot. 
“Don’t be late for class, yeah?” Jimin murmured into Taehyung’s ear, the poor boy frozen to spot with his hands tightening the grip on the ball, his eyes fallen tight and chest halted mid-breath.
Jimin flicked his eyes to you, full of mischeif and mirth, and you gave him a playful frown, lips tugging up in the end when Jimin gave you a sly wink before straightening and walking towards the studio.
“Holy fuck.” Taehyung whispered after a minute, dropping back onto the wooden floor with his arms splayed out. “I think I’m hard.” 
You rolled your eyes and threw your bottle onto the boy’s stomach.
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A week later you entered the gym frazzled, your mind fuzzy and and your temper on edge. College was getting on your nerves and your friends were irritating you to no end. Did no one in college do their own work? Was it necessary for them to all the time ask for your papers hours before the deadline?
Mumbling some unpleasant words underneath your breath as you pushed open the gym door, you welcomed the warm air inside and,
“Hey there, loser. How’d college go? You’re late today.”
Giving back the smile Yoongi gifted you, you relaxed your shoulders and entered the building, making way across the carpeted floor to stand in front of the boy that leaned over the table with his arms folded to smile at you.
“College was shitty.” You shrugged when Yoongi frowned questioningly before glancing around. You took in the silence of the gym. “No one here today?”
“It’s half past eleven, ______,” Yoongi grinned as he pushed back off the table to point up at the clock that hung overhead. “Gym closes at twelve. No one’s here.”
“Oh.” Your heart sunk. You had been waiting  the whole day to get back into the gym to take a few laps in the swimming pool, the muscles in your body aching to stretch. You sighed, tapping the wooden table with your fingertips. “It’s okay, I’ll come back tomorrow early.”
You had crouched down to tie your shoes, mind reeling. What else could you do - going back to the dorm was out of the question. You needed to stay away from that area as long as possible. Maybe you could crash at Taehyung’s? You never actually had been in there, but you had seen it through the window of his car when you once rode in his car.
“Oi.”
You looked up, fingers halting on your shoes, eyes making contact with Yoongi. He was bent over the table, fingertips pressing white against the wood as he poked his head off the edge to glance at you. 
“I can give you thirty minutes tops, okay?”
You furrowed your brows at him, mouth twisting before the meaning of his words sinking and your features relaxed before lighting up. 
“You serious?”
Yoongi smiled. “Get swimming, miss.”
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The water wasn’t as cold as you had expected. 
Nevertheless you had catapulted yourself into the water, diving deep and staying underneath before emerging up in a gasp, a smile making it’s way onto your face.
There was something relaxing of swimming - at least in the pools - to you. The water surrounding you, letting you loose yourself to your own world as you floated. 
You did a few laps, some more intense than the others. Gripping the ledge of the basin, you pushed yourself off and did a few more back strokes.
“Pool’s closing in five, ___, get moving!”
You flicked around, arms splayed out, to see Yoongi walking across the edge of the pool, arms full of towels and shampoos. He wore a grin, those beautiful brown eyes making your heart stutter, even under the weight of the water that pulled you down.
A gear clicked in your mind.
When was the last time you had played a prank on Yoongi?
Swimming to the center of the pool, you floated around, hair wet and sticking the back of your neck.
“Hey Yoongi!” you called out.
Yoongi turned around, humming out a hmm?, expression blank and unaware to the scheme you had in mind.
“Do you think you could - ?”
You broke off mid call with a yelp, dragging yourself down by yourself, and straight into the water. All you saw was fuzzy water around you, your ears blocked and cheeks puffed with oxygen.
This is gonna be hilarious because
Yoongi can’t swim.
You saw blurred movements above you and a splash signified he had dove into the water. 
Surprise filled you when you saw his body swimming easily to you, his worried eyes clear even through the water when he reached to you.
You felt his grip on your waist and lamely you let out a yelp, causing you to inhale a gulp of water, before you were yanked up to the surface.
Oxygen never tasted sweeter, and you inhaled in lungfuls, spluttering out the water that had gone down your throat. You tried to eyes clear your vision as you swung your head around to clear the droplets away.
“Are you okay?”
It was only then did you focus on Yoongi in front of you and - 
Oh, he was so close to you, his hands spaced around your waist and holding you firmly in his grasp, his chest heaving as he breathed, brushing against your own. 
Your eyes flicked up to his, lips sealed, hand coming up to press at his shoulder in reflex but the emotion in his eyes made you freeze, breath caught in your throat.
He was staring intensely through his wet bangs, lips parted as he panted, throat swallowing as he inspected your whole face.
“_______, are you with me?” Yoongi shook you slightly and you jerked out of your haze, nodding quickly to answer him, lips still shut as you blinked up at him.
“What’s wrong, why aren’t you talking?” Yoongi frowned, one hand coming up to grasp your chin and tilt you closer. “Ah, I bet you swallowed some water from...”
He broke off, eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes, settling there and maintaining eye contact with you. You felt his grip on your waist tighten, blunt fingertips digging harder, and pulling you closer.
Your hands settled against his shoulders, your heartbeat tripping and racing against your rib cage like a rabbit. You could feel your cheeks and ears burn, and you swallowed, glancing away.
“Fuck,” a garbled swear made your head jerk up with a surprised gaze.
Yoongi’s eyes were trained on your teeth dug deeply into your bottom lip. You quickly released it, harsh and ragged breaths leaving you as you felt how close you were with Yoongi, his nose nearly brushing against yours.
“Yoongi,” you finally whispered, gaining his attention back to your eyes. “Please.”
That one word seemed to set him off, cut the tension that had built up in between you two, and he launched himself forward, yanking you forward to his eager lips, grip bordering on bruising. You kissed him back with fervor, arms sliding around his bare neck - when did his shirt fall off? - and looping around, pulling yourself up. Gaining leverage, you kissed him back until your breath gave away.
Tipping your head to his neck when the kiss burned your lips too much, you felt him pepper kisses along your neck. His teeth scraped down your neck, one of his hands coming up to tighten on the back of your neck.
You moaned, arms tightening around Yoongi’s shoulders, heart pittering too fast for you to keep up - 
Yoongi froze beneath you and your eyes flew open, gazing through water fuzzy vision at the clear water that surrounded you both and only then did the situation actually dawn upon you:
You had kissed your gym trainer.
With slow, careful movements, Yoongi brought you back down to eye level. Swallowing, you refused to look at him, eyes trained on the dip of his collarbone and fuck that wasn’t helping. 
“Hey.” he whispered, hand coming up to rub soothingly at your arm. You finally wrenched your gaze up to him. His gaze was void of any lust he was full of before, just the usual concern, and your heart sunk. He hadn’t felt anything right? Or was he regretting it? “Go shower yeah? I’ll close up the swimming pool.”
Nodding, you pulled yourself away, somehow feeling colder all of a sudden, and wading over to the edge of the pool. Glancing back, you took in Yoongi’s pale back and your heart beat tripped: he was giving you the space to pull yourself out of the water without feeling conscious of the clinging material to your body. You had said that years ago, when you had first met him. How had he still remembered?
Pushing off the the cement edge and into the cold air, you tugged at the wet material off of your body as you scampered over to the showering room. Teeth chattering, your heart beated in rhythm to your shaking body.
In there, you stood under the hot shower for well over five minutes, swallowing as you thought back to the way Yoongi’s lips had felt kissing and mapping out scenarios over your skin, the way his hot breath had panted into your ear. A hundred and one scenarios ran through your mind and you groaned, thudding your head against the wall.
The ache in your core demanded your attention, and your eyes flicked to the door where you knew Yoongi was waiting for you. Steeling yourself that you’d leave here without touching yourself, you moved to turn off the shower when you froze. 
You hadn’t brought your bag into the showers. You had no spare clothes to change into.
Cursing out a long sentence of expletives, you ran a hand through your hair frustratedly before glancing at the door. You had no choice but to ask Yoongi to fetch your clothes for you.
Oh my god you really had to do this. You let out an agitated whine, thumping yourself on the head for being a dumb ass. 
“Okay,” you spoke to yourself after a minute, shaking your limbs. “You can do this.”
Padding over the tiled bathroom, you opened the door a notch and slowly poked your head out. “Yoongi..?”
And there he was, sitting on one of the long beach chairs, eyes trained on the water with his hands behind up propping him up. When you called him his eyes snapped to you, flicking down to the bare expanse of your neck before quickly gazing back into your eyes. “Yeah? Everything okay?”
“Um.” You had no idea how to put it politely, or discretely, your cheeks flaming as you glanced down at the water puddles forming at your feet. “Could you get my bag?”
“Huh?” Yoongi sat up, head tilted to the side at your mumbling. “I can’t hear you.”
You closed your eyes, fiercely trying to ignore the way your ears went red and curling your toes, you opened your eyes and looked back at him through the space. “My bag. I left my bag upstairs. I don’t have my clothes. Do you think you could get it for me?”
Yoongi’s eyes widened a fraction when he finally heard you, and you saw the way his eyes twitched to blink down at your neck before he got to his feet. Footsteps bringing him closer to you, he brought his hands down in front of him to pull his shirt off. “Here.”
“W-What’re you doing?” you jerked back, eyes wide and desperately trying to stay focused on his face. Which proved to be a hard task when he raised his hand to ruffle through his damp hair. 
“Wear this for now.” Yoongi pushed it into your hands. “I’ll be right back with your bag.”
You clenched the fabric in your hands, glancing down at the shirt, and nodded, turning back into the washroom to change. Pushing the door shut with your back, you rested against it and held up the shirt. It was a simple dark blue shirt, nothing too fancy.
Get over it you shook your head. Just wear the shirt. He clearly pulled away from you. He doesn’t see you that way.
A twinge ached at your heart, and you caught your somber face in the mirror of the washroom before sighing and slipping the shirt over your head. It fit you, showing your legs enough for you to hold your hands down to tug it lower.
Slipping out of the room, you stood in front of the door, hands clutching your wet and sodden swimming clothes, bare feet tickling against the tiled floor. You stared at the water of the pool, ripples drifting across the surface, and you could feel your tiredness catching up to you.
Footsteps made you look up and you saw Yoongi jog down the stairs, duffel bag slung over his shoulder as he seemed lost in his thoughts.
“Found it?” you hoarsely teased out, making him glance up.
Yoongi stopped in his tracks a couple steps away from you, hand gripping the strap of the bag as he stared at you, eyes dark, flicking up and down you before looking back into your eyes.
“You,” he croaked before clearing his throat. “You don’t have any clothes in your bag. Did you not pack for swimming?”
You stared at him, jaw dropping, hands releasing the fabric you were clutching and you crossed over to him, unzipping the bag to peer down and-
Nothing. There was nothing in your bag.
“Fuck.” You swore under your breath, hand coming up to rub at the back of your neck. How fucking dumb were you? How could you forget a pair of clothes when you knew you were going to go swimming? 
Anxiety and frustration rose in your body. You were never this forgetful, what made you loose focus and skip prepping your bag the night before -
“Oh right!” it hit you and you threw your hands up in exasperation. “Fucking Kris pissed me off so much he made me forget to pack my bag right fuck - ”
“Kris?”
Your eyes flickered to Yoongi. He was standing with his head cocked, eyes still dark and dangerous, but now his hand tightening on the strap of your bag.
“Y-Yeah,” you replied, shifting from one foot the other, hand slowly drifting down from your neck. “My roommate. I got into a fight with him tonight - ”
“About?” Suddenly Yoongi was taking steps forward and reflexively you stumbled back for every step he took, eyes wide and going up to his, seeing the way his eyebrows were furrowed.
“How does that even matter?” You raised an eyebrow, acutely aware of the cold air pricking at your bare legs and raising goosebumps to the flesh, feeling the cold brush of the wall behind your back. “He’s just a roommate, Yoongi.”
“Fuck do you know what you do to me?” Yoongi whispered, bringing his hand up to tuck a loose hair behind your ear. His eyes flicked to yours and he inhaled, leaning closer till your noses brushed. “You have no fucking clue about how much you affect me.”
The air around you two seemed to increase a few degrees, the limited space decreasing between your chests and you found yourself growing light headed the closer Yoongi neared. Something was bubbling inside of you, had been simmering since he kissed you, but now you needed more, needed to touch him, to feel him.
“You don’t have a clue either,” you whispered back, lashes brushing against your skin as your gaze flickered from his lips to his eyes. When he held a questioning gaze, you carried on, “About how much you affect me as well. Whenever I see you at the entrance you make me feel so light and relaxed and when you kissed me I think I lost it but you pulled away and I don’t know if I’m reading the signs wrong because please tell me if I’m reading it wrong - ”
Hands buried themselves into your hair and yanked you against Yoongi’s harsh lips, pushing you up and into him. Without hesitancy you kissed him back, arms slipping around his neck, his soft, pink lips pressing roughly against yours, making you moan out in pleasure.
Yoongi was pushing you back against the wall, lips never leaving yours, head tilting as he gave you mini kisses before letting his tongue come out to lick at your lips. The weak groan you let out made him smirk, the hands in your hair rubbing soothly against your scalp before he fisted a handful, yanking you back  to look him in the eyes.
“Oh sweetie,” he murmured, nose gently rubbing yours as he breathlessly smiled.  “I’ll make it pretty clear soon enough.”
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briapia95 · 6 years
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Yuuri had never considered himself a guy who liked going to the gym. It was a necessary evil he needed to go through three days a week, but to say he enjoyed it, as he enjoyed sneaking into the rink lake at night to skates figures over and over again, would be a false claim.
Yuuri always preferred the privacy of the rink, where everyone had to focus on their own stuff, where no one would be paying any attention to him besides his coach. He did everything and anything to shorten the amount of time he had to spent there. Either by taking long runs in the city, signing up into pole dance lessons, or anything that would prove to be beneficial for enhancing his stamina.
Yes, Yuuri didn’t enjoyed going to the gym at all, it has been a constant in his life for so long that he doubted it would ever change.
Xxx
Is was the second week after he moved to Saint Petersburg when Viktor finally asked the question he was dreading the most.
“Yuuri~ do you want to join me at the gym?” Viktor sing-sang as he closed his sport bag and hung it on his shoulder.
To be honest Yuuri didn’t want to go with Viktor, but they had been apart for their respective nationals, also, he really had missed training alongside him. With their current schedules, there was almost no time left for Viktor to join him on his off-ice training.
“Okay,” Yuuri replied, “Let me just change into something else.”
“Do you need any help with that?” Viktor asked, the change of his tone didn’t go unnoticed to Yuuri.
“Now, Vitya, if we do that we won’t ever leave the house,” at Viktor’s pout Yuuri laughed softly. He gave his fiancé a small peck on the lips before walking quickly towards their room, leaving a blushing Viktor behind him.
Xxx
They had been at the gym for only an hour or so, but for Yuuri it felt as of time had stopped entirely the moment Viktor decided to start with weight training.
Yuuri had just started to run on the treadmill when his fiancé placed himself right in front of him and started with his work out.
First it was arms strength, “If I want to lift you as much as I want for our exhibitions I have to gain a lot more of upper body strength,” Viktor had told him with a wink.
Everytime the other man flexed his arms, showing his defined and strong muscles, Yuuri’s breath catched.
He felt his body temperature rise as Viktor lifted the weights, panting as he finally manage to lift them over his head.
He had no idea what was the purpose of the exercise Viktor was doing, but Yuuri would never get tired of looking at him. Specially if Viktor was showing off his gorgeous body like that.
After several sets it was finally time for legs. And, oh, how Yuuri enjoyed looking at Viktor.
His legs were so strong and muscular, now as Viktor kept pushing the weights out of his body Yuuri was assaulted with the need of testing how strong those legs could be. Would Viktor be able to lift him up as easily as he did with the weights?
Yuuri was so distracted looking at Viktor that he didn’t realized he had stopped running, with the treadmill still working it was a matter of one second until he was painfully sprawled on his stomach on the floor.
“Yuuri! Are you okay?” Viktor immediately asked, voice full of concern.
Yuuri only groaned, he felt soft hands on his back, clearly Viktor trying to assess if he had hit somewhere when he fell.
“Yeah, don’t worry,” he panted, face flushed with both exertion and embarrassment, “I just forgot to put the safety stop string on my shirt.”
“Oh my god, sweetheart, were you really that distracted?” Viktor said, this time softly and clearly smiling.
Yuuri turned around, he sat on the floor and glared at Viktor. “You were the one distracting me with your muscles.”
That last sentence made Viktor laugh, prompting Yuuri to glare him even harder.
“Would a kiss make it better?” Viktor asked as he leant on Yuuri once his laughter subside.
“Make it ten and we are good,” Yuuri muttered.
Viktor quickly kissed his cheek and then stood up, leaving Yuuri wanting more. “I’ll give you the rest back at home, I think we’re good for today.”
Yuuri stood up too, hurrying to the locker rooms, glad that the torture of the gym was now over.
Just as he was entering the room, Viktor came from behind and whispered on his ear, “We’ll still be coming back twice a week though, so be prepare.”
He then passed next to him, going straight to the showers, Yuuri once again frozen on his spot.
“Of course,” he shouted back, “I can always shower you on kisses every time we come back home after a successful training regime.”
He stood a few more seconds on the spot. He the laughed softly and started walking towards his locker, his smile never leaving his face.
Of course, Yuuri thought, if there was someone who would manage to change his mind about gyms it would be Viktor.
For @yoitrainingweek, day 2: cardio and resistance training.
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sippin-on-red-wine · 7 years
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High Tide | Chapter 1: If You’ll Have Me
Title: High Tide: An Original, Ed Sheeran Mature Fan Fic | Chapter 1: If You’ll Have Me Author: @sippin-on-red-wine Rating: 17+, Mature (Smut comes in at the end of this chapter) Word Count:  10,478 Author’s Note: This is my first ever attempt at writing fan fiction, let alone that of the smutty variety. I started to read it recently and wanted to take a stab at my own story. I am SEEKING FEEDBACK of any and all kinds! Please feel free to drop me a message, an ask, on anon -- ANYTHING! I want to know how you like the story, the characters, do you relate to them? What did you like? What is missing? Any requests for future installments? HIT ME UP. Enjoy!
**Please like/re-blog!**
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Ed set his glass down on the kitchen counter and poured himself another whiskey, neat. He had lost track of how many he had, though he knew the whiskies were only perpetuating his bad mood. Usually he was a fun drunk, bit of a boozy idiot actually, but that was when he was with his friends. Drinking alone didn’t warrant any celebration. Especially considering the events that had transpired in the last several weeks. Luckily, his mates were due to arrive here tomorrow afternoon.
He strode back upstairs to the master suite of his friend’s summer home in Southport, ME. She had been there when shit really hit the fan and offered up the house to Ed for as long as he needed it. She said it was the perfect place to stay out of the public eye. It was a gated community, the beaches not accessible to the public, and most people only summered there anyway. Labor Day had come and gone, and she assured Ed he wouldn’t be bothered.
He had a few dates to finish up on the Asia leg of his tour and had planned on flying back to London to start work on his next album until he was due to continue touring in the States, and actually be able to spend some time in his own god damned house. But he couldn’t face going home, the home he had built with her, not after what had happened. So he gladly took his friend up on her offer, heading to New England instead.
Ed walked barefoot across the plush carpet toward the electric fireplace. From the bits he heard on the news, it was an unseasonably warm September on the East Coast, but the nights were still really cool. He clicked the fire on and instantly felt a tick better, taking a moment to watch the flames flicker and fade.
He strode over to the big bay window next and, with a different button on the same remote, sent the blinds up. He looked down at the neighboring house, peering into the big, open windows of the living room.
Right, well wasn’t she having a better night than me? Ed looked down and studied his new neighbor. She looked to be maybe in her late twenties, tan skinned and dark hair piled all up on top of her head, rectangular specs perched on her nose. She was wearing tight black leggings and a long-sleeved red T-shirt with “Wisconsin” spelled out in white block lettering.
She walked gracefully into the living room, holding a glass of wine and a very large book. Ed watched her lie back on a black leather couch, whose back was up against the large windows facing him, and slide on some reading glasses that had been left there. Setting her wine down on the table and tossing a throw pillow behind her back, she opened up her book and settled in. Ed wasn’t sure why he was still watching, likely because he had fuck-all else to do, other than finish his whiskey.
A few beats passed and Ed decided he was being creepy, and turned to grab the remote to lower the blinds back down.
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I slowed to a jog as I jammed the speed button down on the treadmill. I looked down at the controls and saw my stats for this run, I had gone for almost 40 minutes longer than I normally did. I slowed to a walk for a few minutes and then shut the machine off.
My hair was pulled back into a ponytail and tucked into an old baseball hat which was now drenched in sweat. I walked across my home gym over to the attached bathroom, peeling off my cap, tank top, sports bra and running tights, depositing them in the laundry chute. I tugged the elastic out of my hair and slipped into the shower, turning the faucet to just barely warm enough.
I stood under the spray, ruminating on the events of the last two weeks.
I had woken up at the asscrack of dawn yesterday to drive Ed’s friends to the airport. They had planned on just getting a cab, but I had insisted. The last two weeks spent with them here would be stuck in my memory forever. They were so upbeat, really bringing me out of my social black hole I’d been rocking for the last couple of years. And holy shit, I thought I drank too much on my own, but I had really punished my liver while they were here.
Ed rode along to bid his mates farewell, sitting shotgun and toying with my shifting hand throughout the entire two hour drive. We dropped them off outside the airport, hopping out to help them unstack their luggage from the back. They each hugged Ed & I, promised to see him again soon, and thanked me for my hospitality again.
The last two weeks had been nearly a non-stop party, chock filled with laughter, booze, bonfires, meals shared at my dining room table (the first time it had ever been used, by the way). But there was something more.
I hadn’t known, but Ed had been living in the house next door for two weeks before I met him. His friend Pete had seen me sitting out on the beach in front of my house on their first night in town, I had headphones in listening to a podcast when he tapped me on the shoulder, scaring the SHIT out of me, making me spill wine all up and down my front. The poor guy felt bad about that for at least a week. He had invited me over to join their bonfire, a friendly act that led to a chain of events that might actually have changed my life.
I must have looked like a total idiot, because I didn’t realize Ed was Ed Sheeran until the third night, when someone brought a guitar out to the fire and passed it around. The group was surprised when it came to my turn and I set my drink down, burying the stem of my glass in the sand, and plucked out a mediocre-at-best rendition of Miranda Lambert’s ‘Oklahoma Sky’. A party trick I probably wouldn’t have broken out if I hadn’t A) Been thoroughly liquored up and B) Knew I was in the presence of the largest male pop artist in the fucking world.
“Anything you can’t do, love?” Ed had chuckled as I finished, clapping along with the group. “The lady can sail, she plays guitar, and makes the best fucking lobstah mac n cheese in the whole world.” He imitated the classic Bostonian accent on ‘lobster’, sending me into a tizzy. His American accent impressions were freaking hilarious.
“Ah, well, you caught me. I know like, three songs. How does that saying go? ‘Jack of All Trades, Master of None’ ? Yep, that’d be me,” I said, passing the guitar to Ed on my left.
Night had just fallen. The air felt like a shade of navy blue with silver-white stars starting to freckle the sky above us. Ed picked up the guitar and started strumming out this beguiling melody.
“You look so wonderful in your dress, I love your hair like that. The way it falls on the side of your neck, down your shoulders and back….” I was in awe. The beautiful tenor of his voice sang out, fingers plucking the bronze strings of the guitar, his eyes closed the whole time. “So in love, so in love, so in love…” It was such a touching song.
He was barely finished when I asked, “Who sings that? That was a beautiful song, wow.”
A beat passed and no one said anything. Lauren, a strikingly tall brunette, stood up and strode over to me, hooking her arm through mine, “Let’s get a refill, yeah?” Well this is awkward.
“Erm, sure,” and I walked with her, arms still linked. She flung open the sliding glass door and I followed her into Ed’s kitchen. It was quite similar to mine, all white, with marble countertops and a large island which was currently being used as a makeshift bar.
“Love, you know who Ed is, right?” She said, looking down at me. Okay, so she didn’t bring me in here for a fill-up.
“Uh… I don’t follow?”
“Are you bullshitting me right now?” She said, taking a step toward me.
“Whoa, okay, can you please clue me in on what we’re talking about here?” I was quick to jump on the defense.
She exhaled loudly. “Ed Sheeran… you know… like, super huge pop singer? Won Grammy’s n shit?”
I racked my brain, trying to find an association with the name “Ed Sheeran”. The puzzle must have played out on my face, because Lauren dug into her pocket, pulling out her iPhone. She quickly tapped the screen a few times, and suddenly a song started playing out of the little speaker. “White lips, pale face, breathing in the snowflakes,” sang out. I suddenly felt like I had a rock in my stomach. She was tapping away at her phone again, another haunting melody beginning, playing in super-speed as she drug her finger across the screen, fast forwarding. “...keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans, holding me closer til our eyes meet, you won’t ever be alone - wait for me to come home.”
Holy shit. I set my drink down on the counter and gripped the edge. I didn’t live *completely* under a rock and had heard these songs on the local pop station, both here & back home. I saw Lauren look outside at all the guys still sitting around the fire. She pulled up another song, a sort of xylophone beat playing out, “The club isn’t the best place to find a lover, so the bar is where I go..”
“Okay, I get it.” I said, wanting her to shut the dang thing off. “I had no idea.”
“Look, I’m sorry, I’m the one that made it weird. I just thought you would want to know. Ed is totally chill. Let’s go back out by the guys. C'mon.” She handed my wine glass back, hers in tow as well.
I was reluctant, not really knowing what Ed's reaction would be. Would he think I was lying? Would he be insulted? I followed Lauren across the cool tile of the kitchen floor, out onto the patio and back down onto the beach. Ed turned his head as we approached, the guitar abandoned in the sand next to him.
“I’m guessing Lauren just blew my cover, yeah?” He joked.
“Sorry, I totally didn’t realize. I don’t do like, social media or anything, and I mostly listen to country on the radio.” I shrugged, feeling the need to explain myself.
“Don’t worry about it.” Ed reached out and rubbed my shoulder blade. “I need that ego check sometimes, I think.”
“Bloody hell ‘e does,” piped in one of the other guys, everyone laughing and chiming in with their own similar sentiments.
And things were totally back to normal after that.
The next ten days were a blur of too much food, too much alcohol, a lot of laughs, and a blossoming interest in my new neighbor. I found myself drawn to him, and he, to me. It was a few days after the “revelation” when I had taken the gang out on one of the ocean charters my company operated during the tourist season. We went out a couple hours before sundown, hoping to catch a glimpse of some of the whales that would be heading back down to warmer waters now from up in Nova Scotia. We were not disappointed. The six of us were out on the bow of the ship, a 50 foot beauty, new to the fleet this year. There was a small pod of humpback whales that were delighted to play in the foamy bubble spray that was kicked up by our propellers. We were exhilarated, watching the water for bubbles and dorsal fins, waiting for the next breach.  
The biggest momma whale propelled out of the water, crashing down, creating a huge splash - I looked over and saw Ed’s face light up, head thrown back, mouth open with silent laughter. I couldn’t help but grin at his childlike wonder. He peeked at me out of the corner of his eye and caught me admiring him. He was up against the railing, I was standing back about a foot away, on deck. He twisted away from the rail and reached out to me, both hands coming to clasp mine, and he drew me into his chest, wrapping me up in a big hug, resting his chin on the top of my head. I closed my eyes, squeezing my arms around his ribcage, inhaling his slightly sweet scent of cinnamon.
I had butterflies in my stomach. I knew that I had started to develop feelings for him, but it was so early, and I didn't think he felt the same way. But when he drew me into his chest, out on the open water, I didn't know what to think anymore. I decided to play it cool.
I was re-watching these scenes in my head, and a few more days passed by. It was Saturday night and the gang was feeling particularly energetic. We set up a game of beer pong and played each other in teams of two. Once that got boring, we switched the flippy-cup, 3 on 3, playing a few sets of that. I was feeling particularly juiced up, not used to drinking any type of alcohol at such a fast pace. The boys turned on some music and we gathered round the kitchen island, grabbing out a deck of cards to play Circle of Death and pouring shots for everyone.
After the first “Waterfall” of the game, I desperately needed some air. It seemed like there were five different conversations going on at once, and the bass of Ed’s rap music was thumping throughout the kitchen. I slipped out the patio door and sauntered down to the beach, not thinking anyone had noticed me leave.
I walked down to the shore, where a few small boulders created a miniature version of Maine’s signature craggy rock seashore. I picked a smooth, flat stone and sat down, leaning back on my hands. The salty air was cathartic and I had hoped it would help sober me up a bit.
I heard the barely-there sounds of footfalls on the sand and turned back to see Ed walking toward me, looking devilishly handsome in a plain white tee and jeans. His hands were stuffed in his pockets as he came and planted himself down on my rock, hip to hip.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey yourself.”
“Something wrong?” He asked, sounding mildly concerned.
“Yeah. You Brits are born with too high of an alcohol tolerance. I simply cannot keep up,” I sassed.
He cackled, “Ha! Don't repeat that to them, it will only egg them on more.”
He reached down for my hand, lacing his fingers in with mine, and leaned his head onto my shoulder. We sat there, just like that, in total silence but for the lap, lap, lap of the tide coming in to meet the beach.
And then he kissed me. He tilted his head up from my shoulder, using his free hand to bring my face in towards him, those perfect pink lips just slightly parted, his hand still cradling my face. His mouth sought out mine and I happily obliged, melting into his, the delicious feel of his tongue slipping past mine, swirling so tenderly. I could taste the cool whiskey and coke on his breath. His ripe berry-colored lips pressed into mine once more, and then he retreated.
“Come on, love, let's head back inside.” He said, standing up and offering out his hands to help you up.
Later, I laid in bed, wondering what the hell that had been about. Was he just tipsy? He had stayed fairly close to me for the rest of the night, once we re-joined the party, resting his hand on the small of my back at one point. But when I insisted I needed to head home to bed, he wished me goodnight with a hug and kiss on the cheek - as did every single one of those drunk Brits. I decided not to over think what this was, or wasn't, or where it was going. It felt nice and I just wanted to roll with the punches.
I snapped back to reality. The water in my shower was running cold now - I jacked the dial up toward the Hot side and went to work on washing my hair. I soaped up my loofah and sloppily scrubbed at my body while my conditioner soaked in. I made quick work with my razor and rinsed my hair one last time. Popping out of the shower, I dried myself thoroughly, wrapping my hair and body up in towels and headed upstairs to my room.
After Ed and I got back from the airport yesterday, we both went our separate ways, and I had resolved myself to leave him be for a while. That was just yesterday morning and now, the next afternoon, I was already yearning to see him again. I dropped my towel, tugged on a pair of black leggings, a white and grey long sleeved baseball tee, and some no-show socks. I bent over, shaking the towel out of my hair and using it to scrunch up my long, brown locks a bit. Then I grabbed a hair tie and piled it all on top of my head in a damp messy bun.
I flew down the steps and out the door into the garage, grabbing the keys for my Wrangler on the way out. My brain was on auto-pilot as I drove into town, calling up my favorite pizza place and ordering a large pepperoni & garlic bread to-go. If I had learned anything about Ed in the last two weeks, it's that his fridge was devoid of anything edible at almost all times. I thought surprising him with a pizza would be a good excuse to “pop in.”
I jammed a bit to the Beatles on the way to and from the pizza shop. It wasn’t a terribly long drive though, so I was pulling back into my driveway in no time, my car just absolutely reeking of delicious cheesy pizza goodness.
I parked in my driveway and crossed the lawn over to Ed’s, knocking on the front door. A beat passed, no answer. I knocked again, then tried the doorbell. I was just starting to get worried when the door swung open.
I was greeted by a tousled Ed...still wearing the same clothes he had on for the drive yesterday. To be honest, he reeked of booze, and not in the sexy whiskey-coke-kiss way that we shared the other night on the beach. I heard bass thumping faintly from somewhere in the house, and it looked like most of the lights were off inside.
“Um, hi, love, whaddya got there?” He was leaned up against the door jam, clearly needing its support to stand. Nice.
“I just thought you might like to, ah, share a pizza? Is this a bad time?” I asked, offering him an out.
“Nope,” he said, popping that “p” sound like he was known to do. “Come on in.”
He beckoned me inside, turning and walking through the foyer, clearly moving slowly, trying to focus on his steps. I walked ahead of him toward the kitchen to set down the pizza boxes. The kitchen was in total disarray; empty, half-crushed beer cans littered the counters and filled the sink. There were ashtrays filled with cigarette butts, frozen burrito wrappers. To be honest, the place looked like a shit hole.
Ed stumbled into the kitchen, plopping down in one of the stools at the island. He put his head in his hands, staring down at the countertop.
“Kendra?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry that you are seeing me this way.” His voice was stone cold now.
“Is this why I didn’t know you were living here for two weeks before your friends came to visit? This is what you were doing?”
I folded my arms across my chest, feeling all of the joy and wonder and magic of the last two weeks slowly seep out in my deep exhale. This was a straight-up turn off. It was clear that he had been on a total bender, alone, since what? 30 hours ago when I dropped him off here after holding his hand in the car? This was like a totally different person. I could just walk away now, cut my losses. I had done this shit before, in a past life, and had no desire to repeat that history.
But then he looked up at me from his hands, tears in his bloodshot eyes. He looked utterly defeated. Where was the cackling, ginger-haired man child? Was this because of his friends leaving? I didn’t understand. I mean, you barely know him, no shit you don’t understand.
I made a decision then, straightening up and bringing my eyes up to meet his.
“Okay, we’re going to talk about this another time, but why don’t I get you a glass of water and some of this pizza? To be honest, I think you could stand to sober up a bit.”
He nodded solemnly. I turned back to the cabinet and pulled out a glass and a plate. I cracked open the pizza box, snagging a slice and taking a quick bite of it myself, then threw a couple slices on the plate and slid it in front of him. I walked over to the fridge, filling the pint glass with crushed ice and then filtered water. I began opening drawers, rummaging through their contents, trying to locate a straw. I spent three months as a bartender, once, where I learned that drunk people will always drink more water if they’re sucking it down through a straw.
I brought the glass of water over to him. He was eating the pizza, good. I set to work cleaning up the kitchen, turning a few lights on, clearing up the beer cans, booze bottles, and rubbish from the countertops. Another quick check in on Drunky McSheeran told me he was drinking his water, too, good.
I quickly took the trash out, and flitted back inside to open a few windows. It was cool outside and this place definitely needed some fresh air. I found the stereo that was on and switched it off. Ed was helping himself to some of the garlic bread, that was a good sign. It felt good to be productive at least. I wandered back over to Ed and sidled up in the barstool next to him, reaching over him to grab myself a piece of pizza.
He rested his hand on my thigh. “I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to do allthis.” He stumbled over his words.
“Hey,” I rubbed small circles at the top of his back, “It’s okay. I got you.”
He dropped a pizza crust onto his plate and slurped down the rest of his water. “I think I should lie down,” he mumbled, “not feeling s’hot.”
“Okay, why don’t you lie down on the couch over here.” And in the meantime, I’ll locate a puke bucket.
He stood up from the counter and sauntered over to the couch, crawling on top of it and lying on his side. I opened his walk-in pantry and saw a stack of mixing bowls, grabbing the biggest one and taking it over to him.
“Here, Ed, in case you get sick…” I said, setting it on the floor beside his head.
For someone who had totally brought this on himself, I was kind of feeling bad for him now. He looked so small; curled up on the couch, hugging a throw pillow to his chest, in yesterday’s clothes.
I thought he at least deserved a proper pillow & blanket, so I took off upstairs to grab one from the bedroom. I located my supplies and headed back down to the couch, spreading the throw blanket over him. He was passed out already. That's probably for the best. I looked up at the clock; 6:30 PM. Well, this was not exactly how I thought I'd be spending my evening. I lifted his head to slip the pillow underneath, for support, but my hands lingered there in his curly red locks.
I sat down on the oversized chair adjacent to the couch, not knowing what to do next. I probably could go home, but what if he like, threw up in his sleep and choked or something? Not likely to happen, but it was still a possibility. I grabbed the TV remote and clicked it on, selecting Netflix from the tv menu and turning on Lost, Season 1, Episode 1. Ahhh, old faithful. This could keep me occupied for a while.
I must have dozed off too at some point, because I awoke with a start and it was now dark outside. I glanced up at the clock on the mantle, it was a little past midnight.
Ed's POV
I came to, but didn't open my eyes at first. Quick assessment: ok, I feel like shit, but nothing out of the ordinary for this kind of liver abuse. Fucking thirsty. Need water. Where am I?
I cracked my lids open then. No glasses, hmm..okay, I'm sure they were around. I was covered in a pale grey fleece blanket with a paisley design on it, and there was a feather pillow under my neck, but I was stretched out on the living room couch. What the? And then it all came flooding back. My heart sank. Kendra.
I sat up, and saw her then. Curled up in oversized chair, she was asleep with the TV remote in hand. To be honest, she looked adorable: messy bun all piled up on top of her head, no makeup, just a tee shirt and leggings on.
Oh, shit. Here I had gone on a dark & twisty, solo bender and this gorgeous girl had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I checked my surroundings. The pillow and blanket was definitely her doing. I'd slept in a lot worse conditions than just a couch while pissed up, God knew that. Next I spotted a large stainless steel bowl on the carpet beside the couch. Shit, I hope I didn't...
There were three bottles of water next to the bowl too, and I scooped one up, tossing the cap and drinking nearly the whole thing in one go. I turned and surveyed the kitchen next; gone were the piles of rubbish, and there were pizza boxes on the island countertop. That must have been Kendra's work too, because he had discovered earlier that no pizza joints delivered to this neighborhood in the off-season.
I felt a sick knot in my stomach, realizing what she must think of me now. Such a fuck-up. She must have wanted to share a slice with me, maybe cuddle up on the couch and finally talk about what had been going on between us, now that the rest of the group had gone home.
Instead she got this. I could just fucking picture it, here I am, reeking of sweat & shame, having just boozed & chain-smoked my way through the past 24+ hours.
She woke up, then, with a jump. I watched her eyes open, clearly also confused for a sec on where she was.
“Oh. Good morning, Sunshine,” she said, sarcasm just rolling.
“...hi…”
“Can't imagine you're feeling too hot. What, you slept for about 6 hours? Think you’re even below the legal limit yet?” Well shit.
“Shit, Kendra, I don't know what to say. I'm sorry you had to see me that way.” I didn't have an excuse to give.
“Yeah, you said that before. I mean, it's none of my business what you do really. I just didn't want you to choke on your own vomit and die.”
This girl took no prisoners. She was calling me out on my shit. Usually everybody around just put up with my antics, either because they were on my bankroll, or didn't want to offend me. It was honestly like a breath of fresh air.
“Look, Ed, I'm sorry -- that was harsh. I don't know you that well, and I have a feeling that you're dealing with some shit right now. I can't pretend to know what unique set of problems come with, being, well.. You...and Christ, I have a drink to relax or take the edge off after a long day, but that’s not what this is..”
She paused, closing her eyes for a minute, and looked back up at me.
“No,” I said, cutting her off. “There’s no excuse. You’re right.”
She got up from the chair and walked over to the kitchen island, reaching for her purse which was slung over the back of one of the barstools. I stood up from the couch and crossed the short distance to her.
“Wait, Kendra, please don't leave,” I felt like a real dick, asking her to stay, after she had already sat here most of the night watching over me, but I couldn't stand to see her go.
She stopped in her tracks, and turned toward me. “Why, Ed?”. Her big, almond-shaped mahogany eyes were looking straight up at me, pleading.
Shit. She knew, why, I'm sure. She wants you to say it out loud, you asshole.
“I...I really like you, Kendra.” Once the words spilled out of my mouth, I wondered why I hadn't said them before. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.”
Those big eyes were looking up at me again.
Kendra’s POV
“Why are you here, Ed? You’re not on a leisurely vacation or spending your time off work with family. Why are you here in this house and not at home?” I was prying now.
He sighed. “....A couple of months ago, I found out my girlfriend was cheating on me. Like, not once or twice. She had an affair the entire time we were together. I finished up my Asia tour dates, thought I was holding it together just fine, but then work stopped for a while and I didn’t know what to do with myself anymore. I didn’t want to go back to England. I wanted to be by myself for a while,” He said, avoiding eye contact with me.
Oh, well that explains some things.
I dropped my purse on the kitchen counter, and walked over to take a seat on the couch. Ed followed suit, taking up the seat on the opposite end. I turned inward, my back up against the armrest, drawing my legs up into my chest. He remained seated forward, talking to the floor in front of him.
He went on. “I told myself I was coming here for ‘solitude’, but that’s not really the truth. I was coming here to wallow. And I did. But then my mates flew in, wanting to cheer me up, and my pissed up idiot friend spotted you from the kitchen window and immediately fancied you, so he invited you over. I was just trying to keep my distance. But as I got to know you, I couldn’t do that anymore.”
He looked at me then, sorrow contouring the lines of his handsome face.
“Honestly, it felt like a trick, to stumble upon you after that….disaster. I love music, I love my job, my life… but it’s not a normal life. Relationships need normal. It never works out for me. I’m away too much, or people see me as a way to get what they want. When I met you, here, it kind of felt like the Universe giving me a big F-U.”
Wow is he dropping some truth.
“You’re beautiful, and smart, and funny, and you’re so good at, like, everything. You’re independent and I’m envious of that. I can’t even be left alone for one day. You deserve better than me, Kenn.”
He finally fell silent.
“That’s not your call to make,” I spoke at barely above a whisper. My anger had totally dissipated. He was so raw, so honest with me. I felt like I owed it to him to be the same.
“Do you know why I’m here, Ed? This is my home, now, but when I came here two years ago, I was a total wreck.” His ears perked up now. “About a year prior to that, I was particularly pissed off after a long day of getting my ass handed to me at work. I stopped off at the store and bought a bottle of vodka and.. a powerball ticket. I tucked the ticket into the visor of my car and went home and drank at least half that bottle. But I won. I had every single number right and I won. A lot. It was amazing, at first, like living a dream. But within weeks, word got out and I had to change my phone number and shut off all of my social media accounts. Within months, I practically had a nervous breakdown, every single person in my life had their hands out and I wanted to give them everything they wanted, all of them, and I could have, but they weren’t there for me. I couldn’t handle it, so I just left. I didn’t say goodbye to anyone but my Mum. And that’s why I’m here. I can’t date; I can’t make friends. Once people find out what I have, it’s all they care about. I see it in their eyes.” I laughed, “You think I’m a strong, independent girl by choice? It’s because I’m the only person I trust. You have nothing to be envious about. It’s fucking lonely.”
God, it was like an anchor had been lifted from my chest. My eyes were stinging, welling up with tears. I fought them back.
He lowered himself from the couch to the floor and scooted over in front of me, wrapping his arms around my hips and laying his head down in my lap. We stayed like that for a few striking moments, not saying anything.
He sat back, withdrawing his arms.
“We're pretty fucked up, aren't we?” He said, out of nowhere. I couldn't help but burst out into laughter, nodding. Ed laughed along with me, too, his throaty cackle causing me to geek out even harder. We were delirious for a minute, like our bodies just needed to do something to shake up the feelings about what had just transpired. We both died down, falling silent again.
“What I feel for you is real, Kendra. I've never felt anything like it. I'm just drawn to you,” He squeezed my hand, those pretty blue eyes looking right into mine.
“I feel that way about you, too, Ed.”
“Then let's give this thing a proper go. I don't have much time left to spend here, maybe another six weeks, but I want to spend it with you. I want to do it right, too, take you on dates and spend hours talking until the sun comes up. I want to know everything about you.”
Gone was the defeated boy that lay here just hours earlier, this was a man, with resolve in his voice.
He went on, “I think, though, this means taking things slowly. I hope you understand. I want to do this right, Kendra, if you'll have me.”
I leapt down to the floor, pressing my body against his, holding him tightly. We kissed then; softly, sweetly, his hands coming up to cup my jaw.
Our lips broke apart. “Yes.”
It was the start of something beautiful.
****************************************************
Ed was back to his cheery self the day after our talk. He knocked on my door late-morning, a bouquet of fresh daisies in hand. He was wearing a dark chambray button-up shirt with a crisp white tee underneath, matched with black jeans and sneakers. He had a pair of aviators tucked into the top of his shirt. The effect was quite stunning.
“Hey, love, I got somethin’ for you,” he said cheekily, handing the flowers over and plopping a kiss on my cheek.
“Thank you! They're beautiful,” I brought them up to my nose to inhale the fresh floral scent. “Come in, I'm just finishing up in the kitchen.”
He kicked his sneakers off, abandoning them by the front door.
I quickly located a vase and cut the stems of the daisies, submerging them in water. My kitchen was a total mess, dirty pots and sauce pans and measuring cups strewn about, ingredients still sitting out on the countertop. It was my weekly ritual to prep a few meals and desserts for Augie, the captain who kept my boat tour business afloat, quite literally. I had met Augie at a dive bar over in Boothbay when I first moved here, and he and his wife kind of took me in. He was older, late sixties I think. We formed a fast friendship and he started taking me out on the water, teaching me how to pull up the big lobster pots, expertly navigating the harbor. He taught me to sail, too, though I wasn't comfortable going out too far without him. Augie had worked his whole life as a fishermen, having retired just before we met. He told me his dream had always been to run a boat company and well, I made it happen. He and his wife had showed me so much kindness, it was the best way to repay them.
“Sorry for the mess, I'm just making a few things to bring over to Augie for the week. I'm just about done and then I was going to run into town to drop this off for him.”
Ed had met Augie that first week when we went out whale watching. The two had hit it off instantly.
“That's sweet of you, love. What's the occasion?”
“Oh, his wife passed away last Spring, and I've been doing it ever since. They were married like, 45 years or something, and she did all the cooking before..” my voice trailed off.
“Here, let me give you a hand with this stuff,” he began clearing dishes off the counter. I wasn't about to argue, technically he did owe me from the day before.
I had an oldies station playing softly in the background. Together, we made a good team, Ed rolled up his sleeves and set to work washing dishes while I packaged up the different entrees I had prepared. Danny's Song was playing, and I heard Ed start to hum aloud. I couldn't help but smile.
Minutes later, he shut off the faucet and wiped down the counters. I stacked up all the containers in a big brown bag, threw in a bag of homemade cookies on the top, and with that, my care package was complete.
“Are you busy today?” I asked, “Do you want to run into town with me?”
“I am all yours. Let's go.” He wiped his hands and came over to kiss me, leaving a little taste of those delicious lips on my own.
I drove us into town, stopping first to drop the care package off at Augie's house. We cruised over to the harbor then, parking in the big lot and walking around downtown. I bought Ed his first whoopie pie, which he loved - such a sweet tooth, that one. We picked a few flavors and took a box to go.
He kept his sleeves rolled down and sunglasses on, but we were still stopped by a mom and a young girl on the sidewalk. Ed was so gracious, giving them both a hug and taking several silly selfies before saying good-bye.
We strolled down the boardwalk, hand-in-hand, stopping in some of the souvenir shops to see who could find the silliest item. We ended up leaving with matching Moose slippers and a few other knick knacks.
Hours had flown by like minutes. It was late in the afternoon, then, and neither of us had eaten lunch. We decided to grab a lobster roll & blueberry soda at one of the roadside stands.
“I really love it here,” Ed said, stuffing his face. “Would you be embarrassed if I ordered a second one? This is sooooo good.”
I laughed, “Go ahead babe, I don't blame you.” He walked back up to the order counter and was clearly charming the lady working, as I heard her laugh ringing out like a bell across the little gravel eating area.
He slid back into the picnic table bench with another sandwich. “What's next on the agenda, babe? Do you want to rent a movie to watch tonight?”
“Sure, there's a Walgreens up the road, we can hit the RedBox on the way home.”
We cleaned up from the buttery sandwiches as best as possible with moist towelettes, then headed back towards the car.
He let me pick the movie and we were on our way home, opting to watch at his place. Ed brought out a bottle of white wine, pouring two glasses and we snuggled in on the couch together to watch the flick. I finished mine, instantly feeling sleepy. Ed noticed right away and motioned me over to lie down with him, spooning on the couch. I shut my eyes just for a second and...
The first thing that registered was the feeling of calloused fingers brushing hair off of my forehead. I had this intense feeling of longing, like I had just been reaching for something just out of my reach, and then it was gone. Was I awake, or dreaming? I felt disoriented. Oh, holy shit. I fell asleep next to Ed on the couch...and he's still here.
“There she is,” he said with a sort of chuckle as my eyes opened and I assessed the situation. I was pretty sure I fell asleep as the little spoon, but now I was turned inward, facing Ed, our legs intertwined, my arms laced up and around him.
“Hi”, I said with a yawn.
“Some dream you were having, yeah?”
“Huh?” Ugh, my brain was foggy.
He cracked a smile, just a half grin, one side of his mouth tugging upward. His ocean blue eyes twinkled.
“I was just saying, you must have been having a great dream….you were, ah, a bit vocal in your sleep.”
Shit. I became acutely aware of the slight dampness between my legs. No….
“What? Did I say something? Oh my God, I am so embarrassed.”
“I wouldn't really call it talking...but there were a lot of adorable little mewing sounds..and, ah, little tiny moans…” he said, dropping the hard 't’ sound in little like he was prone to do.
I pulled my arms out from our cozy embrace and covered my eyes. How fucking embarrassing.
“Shit. I am mortified. I didn't even mean to fall asleep…”
He pulled my hands down from my face and planted a big kiss on my forehead.
“Don't worry about it. It was pretty adorable, actually.”
“How long was I out?”
“About an hour, I reckon.”
“I guess last night caught up with me. I never, ever fall asleep while the TV is on usually.” Nor do I normally dry hump someone's leg in my sleep, but I left that thought in my brain.
He closed his eyes, then, and his pretty pink lips came and landed on mine. He pulled my body in closer to his.
“What do you say we hit the hay, properly? This sofa isn't too comfortable. Let's go up to bed.”
“You want me to spend the night?”
“Yeah, well, if you want to? It's okay if you d--”
“No, it's ok, we can do that. I probably should run home and grab some PJ’s though.”
“Oh, you can borrow something of mine to sleep in, love, let's go upstairs.”
We untangled our limbs and got up from the couch. Ed clicked the television off and gathered up the empty wine bottle & glasses as I stretched my arms upward, and rolled my neck back and forth a bit, I was a bit stiff from the sofa.
“Want a glass of water for your night stand?” He asked.
“Yes please,” I replied.
“I'll get this then, why don't you head upstairs and find something to sleep in? Help yourself to anything.”
He deposited our stemware next to the sink, opened a cabinet, grabbed down two glasses, and strode over to the fridge and began to fill the first glass with ice. I turned and walked up the stairs, feeling the plush carpet between my toes. My stomach was in knots, my nerves kicking in. I really hadn't slept in bed with someone else in...shit, a long time? In the few short-lived relationships I had had, we always hung out at his place and I always went home, no matter how late it was.
But then again, I felt comfortable with Ed. Clearly. I was honestly still shocked that I had even fallen asleep with him downstairs on the couch. Very unlike me.
I pulled on the top dresser drawer, finding it stuffed full of boxer briefs. Hmm, okay. Next drawer was all tee shirts. I peeked at one of the labels, a size Medium. Probably not the best idea, I wanted something to cover my ass at least. I walked over to the large walk-in closet and pulled a soft, long sleeved flannel shirt in various shades of blue from a velvet hanger. I undid my jeans, shimmy-ing them off, and pulled my plain white tank top off over my head. I unclasped my nude bra and off that went too, I kicked my clothes up into a pile and shrugged on the flannel. It was just right, me being only 5’2, it came down to about mid thigh. The sleeves were a bit long so I cuffed them up once. I pulled together all the buttons, then thought twice and undid just the top two. I was wearing white lace boyshort panties, luckily, and not a thong.
Ed came in the bedroom door, “Solid choice, love, that's my favorite shirt. Not much use for it here in the blazing fucking heat, though, for me at least. Looks good on you.”
“Thank you,” I beamed. “Do you have a spare toothbrush by chance?”
“Um, I'm not sure… I'll check.” He set the glasses of water down on the dresser and headed into the bathroom. I could see him pulling drawers open at random, shuffling through each one's content. “I guess I don't, sorry. If it doesn't gross you out, you can use mine? I don't mind.”
Luckily I'm not a germaphobe. “That will be fine, thank you.” Ahem. So proper, all of a sudden. I joined Ed in the bathroom, standing in front of the sink while he wet the toothbrush and squeezed some Crest out for me. He handed me the toothbrush with a wink and I went to work on brushing. Meanwhile, he was back in the bedroom, turning on the gas fireplace. I lost focus on brushing, though, when I saw him strip down to just his boxers. Oh. Those knots were back in my belly again. I rinsed my mouth and tapped his toothbrush off, leaving it on the side of the sink
He came round to my side of the bed (“my side??” what the fuck, K) and pulled the corner of the white duvet back, patting the grey sateen sheets. “All set for you, love”.
I climbed up into the king sized bed, pulling the pretty duvet up to my chin. I watched Ed take up place in front of the bathroom sink and brush his teeth, too, it sounded like he was humming something. I couldn't take my eyes off of him; I hadn't seen him shirtless before and had no idea that his entire chest was covered in the same bright ink that danced up and down his arms. He finished up in the bathroom, switching the light off in there and then the bedroom, and walked around the bed to climb in the other side.
I flipped over to lie on my other side, facing him, and he stretched his arms out toward me, so I scooted closer. He wrapped me up in a tight embrace and inhaled deeply, nose buried in my hair.
“Mint shampoo? This smells nice.”
“Yeah, you guessed it.”
“Kendra?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for staying with me tonight.”
“Is it weird if I tell you I'm a bit nervous? I guess I'm just so used to sleeping alone. But.. I like this,” I said, tracing the outline of his shoulders and biceps with my fingers.
“I know what you mean. I feel that way too. Would you... if you want, you could call me Teddy, y’know.”
I reached up to his scruffy head of hair and twirled one of his curly copper locks between my fingers.
“Teddy,” I said, trying it out, “I like that.”
The fireplace was blazing on in the corner of the room. But that wasn't the only burn happening here. I felt that burn through every inch of my body, yearning for this man, here right in front of me. It was like, just being that physically close to him had lit a fire in me. A fire that hadn't burned in a long time.
I kissed him, then, hard and longingly. He was quick to reciprocate, pushing his tongue into my mouth, exploring. His hands came up my shirt but stopped at my waist, just grabbing and pulling me into him even closer yet. I took initiative and pushed him so that he was lying flat on his back, climbing on top and straddling him.
He broke our kiss. “Kenn,” it sounded like he was protesting. “I don't want, I mean, I didn't ask you to stay the night, expecting this..”
“Shhhh,” I sat upright now, directly at the top of his pelvis. The fireplace gave just enough light in the room that I could make out the brilliant tattoos on his chest. “I know, Teddy,” I said, tracing the outline of the great lion’s mane. “Do you want me to stop?” Damn girl, you bold.
He was wide eyed, looking up at me in the glow of the flames.
“No.”
I leaned back down and planted a messy, fast kiss on his perfect pink lips. I then moved to his earlobe, leaving a little bite there and sucking it before moving back to his mouth. I could feel his bulge growing hard beneath me, and his hands were roaming my body freely now, grabbing onto my hips and giving me the friction I so desperately wanted.
“Will you sit up a bit for me?” I asked at a whisper, grabbing a pillow and tucking it behind him. His torso was propped up a bit now, those delicious lips even closer to me. His hands moved from my hips and up the hem of his soft flannel shirt, fingers grazing over my stomach and floating up to my waist.
“Can I unbutton this?” He asked.
I nodded, biting my lower lip. Hearing him ask that out loud had my blood just absolutely buzzing.
He started with the bottom button, moving ever so fucking slowly, up, up to the top. The valley between my full breasts just barely exposed. He took my right hand with both of his and slid it out of the cuff, tugging down gently to free my arm. The flannel shirt fell away from my right shoulder then and he quickly repeated the process on the other side.
My breasts were fully exposed now, I could feel those little sensitive buds beginning to harden under his intentful gaze. He brought his hands up to them, cupping them, so gently. He brushed his thumbs over my nipples simultaneously, sending a lightning rod through the nerves of my body right down to my core. His fingers expertly rubbed, and skimmed, and tugged, while my mouth fell open with barely-audible moans spilling out.
My hips were acting of their own accord, grinding out big circles over his pelvis. I could feel his rock hard cock so easily through my lace boyshorts and the thin fabric of his boxers.
“Teddy,” I closed my eyes and tilted my head back.
He took his hands from my breasts then, placing one on the small of my back and wrapping the other one behind my shoulder, pulling me down to him. He kissed me, hard, on the mouth, breathlessly muttering “You are so beautiful,” and proceeded to cover my whole neck with kisses, moving down my chest, planting those warm, wet lips on every square inch of my tanned skin. He brought his hands up to the indent of my waist and then took a breast into his mouth, expertly sucking and twirling and nibbling over my hard nipples. Another moan escaped my lips as he moved his mouth to the other breast, quickly using his hand to replace where his lips had just been.
Fuck, this boy was good with his fingers. And mouth. And oh, he's pushing back up into my pelvis now as I'm spreading circles over his. I am so aware of my slick wetness down there. Ed finishes sucking on my hard nipple and brings his lips up to meet mine, opening my own mouth with his skilled lips and tongue, a soft moan spilling out of his mouth this time.
I sit back up, pushing off of his sexy, strong chest and straddling him properly again. For a moment, his eyes just glare into my own and I can almost see him thinking, considering his next move or searching for the right words to say.
“Penny for your thoughts, sir?” I say, half teasing, half really curious as to what's going on behind those beautiful baby blues.
“I'm... just.. thinking about how it was my idea to take this slowly, and now you're practically naked in my bed, on top of me... panties soaking wet,” He brushed his thumb over the sheer fabric of my panties, right over my slit. “and you're so fucking beautiful, and cool, and now I want to do anything but take it slow.”
“Oh.” Yup. I got nothin'.
“I want to do right by you, Kendra, but I so badly want to make you feel good, right now, too.”
My heart like, basically just stopped. I must have looked like deer in the headlights, I could see the worry growing in his eyes every second that I was silent. He openened his mouth again, probably to apologize, but I quickly put a stop to that by bringing our lips together, yet again, trying to put all of my feelings into a single kiss, like some unspoken conversation, and I think Ed felt the same way too. He rolled to the side and, hands on my hips, guided me to lie flat on the mattress, his heavenly fucking body coming on top of mine.
His weight on me felt so good, so right. His mouth is everywhere, biting my ears, suckling on my neck, planting wet kisses all over my decolletage.. my hands come up and grip is muscular back, trying to touch every square inch of him to me. I'm moaning now, freely, as his hands grip up and down my body from my breasts, to my hips, up to my waist, over my stomach, and travel back downward, Ed shifting his whole body down towards my center, leaving kisses the entire way.
My entire body felt fucking electric.
Ed sat back on his heels, gently pulling my pelvis up into his lap, kind of at an upwards angle. Holy shit. He traced the outline of my panties, fingers dancing over the edges. He looks up to me, like he's waiting for the green light, and I nod my head, yes, it’s all I could muster.
He reached back to grab my ankle, bending my leg and bringing it forward, leaving little kisses all up and down my calf in the process. Putting that foot down flat on the bed, he took in my other ankle and does it all over again. I am silently whimpering at this point, the anticipation just fucking killing me. I have never been this turned on and he’s barely even touched me.
He hooked his fingers around the elastic of my panties and lifted my ass a bit, peeling away the white lace fabric from my body. My panties were stuck around my thighs now, as he picked up my left knee, threading the panties off around my foot, and wrapping my leg around his waist. Once more, same on the other side, I watched him tuck my ankle snugly around him, finally free of the last piece of fabric covering me. I tightened my grip on his torso a bit and heard a little groan escape his lips. He scratched the top of my thighs lightly, and brought his hands up to cover my lower belly, his thumbs just barely resting on my mound.
There was something so sensual about it… just barely enough light in the room for me to watch him, gazing so intently down there, at me. He moved one of this thumbs down to the bottom of my wet slit, dragging upward so slowly, barely dipping in, opening me up just a bit... and with that, it was fucking real, and suddenly the logical side of my brain turned on, realizing that I could count on one hand the number of times that I’d actually been able to come from someone else stimulating me. I froze.
“Teddy,” I choke out. “Wait.”
His pretty pink lips were parted, still staring straight down. He stopped immediately, bringing his gaze up to mine.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to… I, um, I have a hard time.. getting there.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Kenn, that doesn’t matter to me,” Another beat passes. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” I answer, without thinking.
He swept down to kiss me, no tongue, his lips just pressing up against my own. He brushed the hair off of my forehead, his chest covering my own, and I couldn’t get over the feel of his skin on my skin. He moved his mouth over to the side of my faced and whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry about it, I’ve got you, love.”
I wrapped my fingers up in the tousled locks on the back of his head, pulling his forehead to my own, staring up into those endless eyes. I nodded again, giving him a non-verbal yes.
He sat back on his heels again, making direct eye contact with me, biting his bottom lip, and shifted his gaze back down to my glistening nether regions.
He laid one hand flat on my pelvis, kind of grounding me. And then that thumb was back on my slit, dipping in, running bottom-to-top, again and again, deliriously slowly. I pushed my pelvis up towards him, my body reacting on its own, seeking friction. Ed added another finger into the mix, slipping further into my folds. It was both torture and bliss; his almost-rough fingertips just exploring me so patiently. I watched him watching himself touch me and holy fuck that was such a turn on, I thought about feeling self-conscious about it, but the horny side of me won that battle out pretty quickly.
His thumb came up to the top of my slit and rubbed slow circles in one direction, then back the other way. I grabbed fistfuls of sheets on either side of me and rocked my hips up towards Ed again. “Mmm, more, baby,” I muttered. He smirked then, and sunk his perfect middle finger all the way inside me.
I flexed my feet out, toes curling in, taking in the sight of this sexy man, all strong shouldered and rainbow design. Ed switched hands, removing his left from my pelvis and sinking his thick thumb into my opening, and picking up the rhythm on my clit again with his right hands, small circles and then bigger ones and back to small, all clockwise now.
“God, you are so fucking sexy,” Ed muttered as he slipped another finger inside me, picking up the tempo a bit and adding a little twist into his movements.
He was so steady, unwavering, so focused on what he was doing, and I bucked my hips up and pointed my toes and felt a faint warmth building low in my body.
I closed my eyes, letting my head fall to the side. “Fuck,” I whined, “just like that, yeah,” The warmth was building, Ed's fingers slipping in and out of my wet opening in perfect time with that rhythm he was playing in circles over my clit, he had me balanced out on this precipice of pleasure. The warmth was turning into a dull ache now, my back arched, and Ed was right there with me.
He sped up his rhythm just a tick and it intensified everything. “Baby…” I groaned out,  turning my eyes back to see him watching my face now, biting on his lower lip again. Fuck.
He switched to a 'come hither’ motion, then, stroking my walls in just the right spot, and I fell over the edge instantly. I cried out, contorting my torso, squeezing my legs around his waist, still holding onto the sheets with my small fists for dear life.
I rode out the small aftershocks, stunned, and loosened the grip I had on Ed with my legs. I looked up to see the Smirk™ plastered across his face. He set my pelvis down, slipping out of his sat-back position and came to lie down next to me, threading his arms around me and nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. I was still practically panting.
“That was… so good, Teddy, I can't believe I --”
“You are incredible, woman, come here.” and he nuzzled in closer, pulling the duvet back over our bodies. I turned to lie on my side, letting him be the big spoon again. I was very aware of his penis, hard, against my back. I wanted very much to make an introduction, but before I knew it, my heavy lids closed and sleep took me once again.
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phantasmkiss · 7 years
Text
Calypso
QC Monthly Challenge #19
Billionaire Mason Parsons had an ego, that much was obvious. He'd commissioned an obscenely large yacht, and from what I could tell, it was mostly to impress other people. He loved his new toy so much that he commissioned a website to go with it, and that's where I came in.
I'm a graphic designer by trade, and I made a bid on the job. I couldn't say why he chose me, but he did, and I was determined to live up to expectations. Mason invited me and my daughter to see Calypso herself on a weekend-long holiday off the coast of Newcrest to get a feel for her before I began. How could I say no?
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I met his family first, and wondered what I had gotten myself into. His father, Matthew Parsons, was a big-wig investor who'd started out as a "Mailroom Technician," which sounds like a fancy way to say he brought people's mail to their desks. He'd recently married a woman younger than either of his children, and the two were definitely in their honeymoon phase.
Mason's sister, Madison, had a Can I see your manager? haircut, and I recognized her husband, Ramsey Zeng. He was one of those young men who'd made millions launching companies. Chronos magazine had called him a "Tech Guru" and a "Dot-Com Pioneer." He seemed to be trying to talk to their daughter, Audrey, as Madison complained about how long it was taking to set the stairs up next to the yacht.
Finally, the man himself showed up.
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I'd dressed my best and was glad of it. For all the Internet stalking research I'd done, seeing Mason Parsons in person was an experience. The ego I'd expected, but not the charm. Mason was outgoing, self-assured, and, dare I say it? Extremely handsome! He welcomed me and my daughter, Alexandria, as though we were the guests of honor, not an employee doing hands-on research and her plus-one.
We chatted for a bit, then he led the way, a brisk breeze ruffling our clothing as we mounted the steps. There we met the pilot, Mitchell Kalani, and the activities director, aptly named Summer Holiday!
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We went to the bridge while the crew brought our luggage and readied rooms. I pulled back the scarf I'd worn to protect my hair from the wind and promptly forgot to be nervous in my excitement.
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Mason and Mitch explained the navigation equipment to me while Alexandria asked Summer every question she could think of. How fast could Calypso go? (Eighteen knots, though she cruised at twelve.) Who'd built her? (She was based on a design by Christensen Shipyards, originally called Casino Royale.) How big was she? (Forty-six squares long by fifteen squares at her widest.)
I even got to wear the Captain's hat!
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Alexandria and I were shown to our rooms by Siobhan (pronounced sheh-vahn) Fyres. Each room had a double bed, a desk and Wi-Fi enabled computer, a lot of storage, and a private bathroom. Alexandria claimed a room on the starboard side, and I was across the hall.
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I found something in my room which hadn't been in my daughter's, and began to wonder about our host's true intentions.
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Little time passed before we were back out on the deck. It was late afternoon by then, as we said goodbye to Twin Oracle Point and began our journey to sea.
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We were called to supper promptly at 7 pm. and the spread was fabulous! Alexandria, Mason and I chose the lobster, though there was also steak, gnocchi, and several things I couldn't quite identify. I ordered a non-alcoholic Purple Rain and Alexandria had something pink that shot off sparks when she first got it!
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We were joined by Sims I hadn't realized were aboard, and I got a little starstruck. Apparently Mason's friends include the Landgraabs and the Goths, though Bella Goth was missing during the meal. Geoffrey Landgraab is a really nice, down-to-earth guy, something I hadn't expected, considering his wife's rumored criminal activity.
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After supper was karaoke! Some of the guests were a little juiced by then. Matthew's wife, Aura, broke the ice with Madonna's Like a Virgin, which was a little awkward for the rest of us. Mason's niece sang Somewhere Over the Rainbow before being sent off to bed, and she did an amazing job!
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I wanted to sing, but didn't have the nerve until Alexandria dragged me on stage. It was tough finding a duet that wasn't romantic, and even harder finding one we both knew, but we finally settled on Good Time, by Owl City and Carly Rae Jepson. It was a lot of fun!
A few Sims wandered off to bed, Alexandria included, though I think she was more interested in gossiping to her friends online than she was in sleeping! The rest of us went out onto the upper deck for music and dancing.
I recognized Alice Spencer-Kim on the piano and waved hello. This would be a nice job for her, but I bet she couldn't wait to get home to her family!
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After hours of socialization, I needed quiet, but didn't want to stray too far. I stopped at the edge of the deck to look out over the water. The night was beautiful, buildings along the shore lit up, moonlight reflecting off the water. I wasn't alone for long.
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Mason joined me, and for some moments, the silence was comfortable. When he spoke at last, he said some things I won't write, lest my daughter read this!
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Our earlier tour hadn't included the master suite, but it was as modern and sleek as the rest of the yacht. It had the usual bed and storage, of course, but also had two walk-in closets, a vanity, and a high-end television.
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I took the time to write down notes for my web design before checking out the master bathroom as well.
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The master bathroom was as large as my entire suite! It had the same amenities, a shower and a tub, but dual sinks and far more space.
Later I met with Alexandria on deck. She loves kids, and had made fast friends with Audrey. This forced her parents to spend time talking with each other, which seemed to work out. Her mother was finally beginning to relax.
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I was talking with Mason when I saw sea turtles off the port stern. They swam alongside the yacht for a moment, but when Alexandria came over, she had missed them!
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We talked, and everyone decided to go for a swim, or snorkeling, or simply lounging in the sun. I took Alexandria with me. I spotted the turtles again! This time Alexandria didn't miss a thing, and we watched them for some time.
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It was one thing seeing aquatic life from the yacht, but quite another to swim amongst it all. We saw schools of fish below a nearby dock, sea grasses and flowers, and I thought I saw a treasure chest, though I lost track of it in the excitement. Maybe someone else will be lucky!
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We returned to Calypso, where the Parsons family was having a casual lunch on the top deck. We ate and talked where the night before we had danced. I decided I had misjudged Matthew's young wife. She really did seem to love him, and he could be as charming as his son.
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After lunch, most of the others wanted to lie in the sun. Alexandria and I took that time to go exploring on-board! We started with the door off the dining room, which naturally led to a kitchen.
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The kitchen had a double wide refrigerator and two sinks, as well as two dishwashers! I could smell something baking and hear someone moving around in the next room, so we took off before we could get caught!
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The kitchen wasn't the only crew area we wandered into. We found an office/lounge as well. It was sparsely furnished, but clean and well-stocked. We talked about taking a skeleton key with us, but didn't actually do it. Anything that was locked up, we were fine staying out of!
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The last stop on our private tour was the engine room. I hadn't imagined how much machinery it would take to run a ship of this size! Alexandria and I looked, but didn't touch, and finally we went to rejoin the party.
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Mason was with Geoffrey Landgraab in the gym. Summer offered to coach us if we wanted to try the equipment, so we changed into our workout clothes and jumped onto the treadmills!
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As promised, it was a bracing environment to exercise! I've rarely had so much fun exercising, though I wasn't at it long before I pulled a muscle.
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Alexandria took me to the infirmary, which was small, but had everything I needed. Summer and Siobhan tended to my injury, which was thankfully minor, and I was advised not to overexert myself for the rest of the holiday. I had been very active!
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There was a movie playing in the recreation room, and several Sims gathered to watch it, to read, or to play chess. Audrey played a very good game against her grandfather, though he won in the end.
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I was feeling inspired, so I brought out my paints and easel. Alexandria watched me for a while, as I began to paint a passing canal boat, but Audrey came to find her, and they left together.
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I later found them together, reading The First Unicorn. It was one of Alexandria's favorite books from when she was younger, and she'd brought it in case she got bored. That had never happened, but she had found someone else to share her love of reading!
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Supper was amazing again, and this time everyone joined us. The table seated all thirteen Sims, with room to spare!
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Alexandria and I stayed up half the night talking about everything we'd seen and done. She confronted me about my feelings for Mason, but I assured her that I have no intentions of settling down any time soon! She swore to me that if he broke my heart, she'd punch his yacht.
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Finally, our holiday was at an end. It was hard saying goodbye to the crew, who felt like friends now, hard saying goodbye to the life of luxury, and to Mason.
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While Alexandria hugged Audrey goodbye, Mason and I stepped aside to talk. I told him that I didn't feel right beginning a relationship while I was working for him, however distantly. I thought that it would be easier to do the job than to risk my heart after so many years with only my daughter to care for.
He countered with a rose, as fresh and beautiful as the one I’d found on my pillow that first night.
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We had exchanged contact information before this weekend even happened, and though I'd heard he was a non-committal playboy, he promised to contact me again. Is this the end of a holiday, or the beginning of something else?
At last, Alexandria and I stood alone on the dock, watching Calypso ready to move on.
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Who is Mason Parsons, really? An eccentric billionaire? A heartless rogue? Or is there something more to him, below the polished walls he puts up all around him? Maybe someday I'll find out.
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Yacht: Calypso in the Sims 4 Gallery
Parsons Family in the Sims 4 Gallery
Note: Captain’s hat is CC and not included. You can find it here, though.
(Origin ID: PhantasmKiss)
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