#i need to text my landlord about when rent is due but that makes me want to cry

[pochqmqri]

I am seeking some advice regarding a landlord situation.

I've started a new job that has me relocate to a different part of the state about 2 hours a drive away, thus I needed to seek housing in the area.

Last month, I went through several choices and decided on one, after touring the property. The landlord and I agreed to have me move in on August 8, and she asked for the deposit in advance, so that she could "hold" the room and not continue to sell it to other people. Not knowing better, I paid the deposit in full, which was just one month's rent, however, I should have asked to her to have a proper lease ready to be signed.

After the payment, she promised to have a lease ready to sign, but kept kicking the can on it, despite me reminding her multiple times. Eventually, she does, but as a poorly written and formatted text message that has yet to be finalized.

But leading up to that, over the next few weeks, she texts me saying that the move-in date is "August 8-10," which doesn't make sense, and she had said otherwise previously. Apprently, it was because the outgoing tenant wasn't sure on what date they would move out. That dint exactly work for me because I started working on July 29 and my benefactos provided me on-campus housing up to the 8th, if I moved in on the 9th or 10th, I would have no place to stay in that gap. The landlord then says that she would provide me temporary housing where I could stay for a rate per day. It wasn't ideal, but I decided to go with it.

Then, she next texts me saying the move-in date is the 20th, the reason being that she wants to have the roof and carpet renovated between the 8th and 20th. She did not disclose that to me when I paid my deposit, and when I told her that, she said that I would have temporary housing for those 12 days, which, from what she described, was just staying on a couch at one of her other properties with no Wi-Fi, for $20-25 per day. This was also around the point where I looked up her info on Google and found out that she's part of a seedy realtor company, which she didn't disclose, but it became apparent when she had to "get back" to me on certain questions.

Going back to the text message lease, she writes on it that my move-in date will be the 8th, like normal, and when I asked about all the date pushing back she did earlier, she said that the renovators were going to reschedule for a different unspecified date, and that I "might" be able to move-in on the promised date. But that didn't make sense, because if they rescheduled, it would likely happen after August 8, meaning I'd move in but then quickly have to relocate to a temporary location, and that was, much more trouble than worth.

A few days later I tell her I'm no longer interested in signing the lease, to which she says that I made her hold the room for me and the deposit is nonrefundable, despite the fact that she told me when I paid that it was, to which she responds that spits refundable onlupy when the lease ends. One, she didn't clarify that when I paid the deposit, and two, the lease never started if I didn't sign it. I then tel hr that she made me pay under false pretenses due to the surprise renovation, and that I no longer trust her to keep her word. She then responds that "to make it simple and easy," the renovation isn't happening at all, which confused,p me, because she said the renovators were rescheduling and that she'd soon learn the date Ina few days. That was when our conversation ended.

Regarding my deposit, I'm thinking about taking this matter to the state. Maryland has a consumer protection agency, and I believe I have the standing to file a complaint against her for misleading me, especially when I have text message evidence. However, as it currently stands, the lease as she has poorly written it states my term begins on August 8, which is what was initially promised, so I'm not sure I have standing anymore. I never told her I plan to file a lawsuit yet, because if I do, it would irreparably damage my relationship with her, so I amt to be sure this is something I can get my deposit back on.

Another option came up though. When I told her I wasn't interested in signing the lease, she, in what seemed to be an act of desperation, said that I could instead change the lease length from six months to just one. I passed this up as I was insistent on no longer moving in, but if I do take it, I could eventually get my deposit back assuming I don't damage anything in that short stay. the monthly rent is also not that different from the other options I have been looking at. The issues are that, I still am not certain she's keeping her word on me not having to temporarily relocate if she has renovators come in, and I fear our working relationship already has cracks in it so I might run into trouble with her during my one month stay.

[pyrolitheus]

Some financial literacy tips since nobody taught us millennials anything about that (at least, not here in the USA) and since I don't have kids I don't know if Gen Z is getting the same holes in their basic life knowledge...anyway, this is incomplete, plz feel free to add to it: CREDIT SCORE/CREDIT RATING This is a made up bullshit meter that someone decided to formalize in the late 1980s. Your credit score is one of the biggest factors that determines your eligibility for loans and other things. Even if you are approved to buy that house or car or sign that lease or whatever, a bad credit score means you pay a higher interest rate, and a good credit score means you pay a lower interest rate. Why do I call it bullshit? If you have never used credit, then you have no credit, and it is considered the same way a bad credit score is considered. You have to build credit to get those sweet low interest rates.

The other reason it's bullshit is credit checks. If you want to open a credit card or get a loan or whatever, lenders/etc. will do a credit check as part of the process. Some ridiculous person somewhere decided that credit checks should lower credit scores. It's temporary, but until it wears off it's super annoying. Luckily several credit checks in a short period of time is considered evidence that you are "shopping around" and do not collectively stack against your credit score, but if they aren't close together they do stack. (Note that there are different kinds of credit checks, some of which do not hurt your credit score.) But the bottom line is you need to build credit and protect your credit score if you want to be approved for loans and pay lower interest rates on them when you buy things like cars and homes and so on. If you think you're so poor you'll never be able to afford such things I certainly won't argue with you, I'll just point out that I was able to rent a place that my income wouldn't have qualified me for because of my stellar credit score. CREDIT CARDS

When used responsibly, a credit card is a great way to build credit. I opened mine when I was 18 or 19, and used it responsibly, slowly building credit until now I'm at the point where sometimes my fantastic credit score is enough for a landlord to rent to me without me providing income information.

The "minimum payment" is not actually the minimum you should pay, it's just the minimum the credit company requires for you to keep your card open. If you only pay the minimum instead of the full balance due, it will hurt your credit rating, and you will be charged interest. You need to pay the full amount down to $0 every bill.

Treat your credit card like a middle manager between you and your bank account. Do not spend more on your card than you can immediately pay in full.

Try to spend less than 3% of your credit limit at any given time. It's okay to go over that for big purchases as long as you then go online in a couple days when the charge clears ("clears" = "goes through the system and displays on your account") and immediately pay the balance down to $0. The higher the % of the credit limit you use, the worse your credit score will be even if you're paying your balance back down to $0 on time every month. Is this ridiculous? Yes. It is also how things work (for now; credit scores didn't even exist until relatively recently in American history).

NEVER sign up for a credit card that has an annual fee. Some of them will advertise that there is no fee and in very small text say something like "for the first X months." There are a ton of free credit cards out there, there is no need to pay someone to spend your own money. Credit card companies make their profit off of the people who don't pay their full balance down to $0 each bill and just pay the "minimum balance" and interest on the rest instead.

One of the factors that affects credit is the average length of open credit lines (longer = better). So once you open a card, never close it. Sometimes they close cards for inactivity so if you decide you don't like a card, just keep it in the bottom of your sock drawer or something and use it a couple of times of year so they don't close it on you.

Note that applying for a credit card requires a credit check, which will affect your credit score even if you aren't approved for the card. It's worth checking the fine print to be sure you're only applying for cards you actually qualify for. BUDGETING: ONE TIME MONEY VERSUS ONGOING One-time money is something like getting money for your birthday, or buying one item once. Ongoing income is something like a regular paycheck, and a regular cost is something like paying rent or a phone bill. Always use ongoing income to pay for ongoing costs whenever possible. Putting one-time money against an ongoing cost is something you can do as an emergency measure, but it isn't a sustainable long term budgeting plan. RETIREMENT The younger you are when you start saving for retirement, the more likely you are to be able to retire. It doesn't even have to be a lot. Over the course of 2 years of a part time job, I put $10/month ($240 total) into investments inside a retirement account and ended up with over $1000 because of how investment interest works. This money will grow exponentially on its own, but it would be $0 if I didn't take the initiative to set up an account. Learn about the retirement options available to you through your work and your credit union. If you are having trouble figuring out retirement options, talk to the financial advisor at your bank or credit union. For credit unions, this is almost always free. Like any consultant, they can make mistakes, so be sure to think carefully about what they tell you and then make your own choices. BANKS VERSUS CREDIT UNIONS Banks are for profit, while credit unions are not. They offer all the same services, but credit unions will be cheaper over all because they have fewer fees and the fees they do have are lower. I cannot think of a single good reason for an American to use a bank instead of a credit union with the possible exception of international banks sometimes being better for people who travel a lot. Check into the credit unions in your area and read reviews before picking one. Ask around if you know anyone who uses the credit union you are interested in - sometimes there are referral programs and you can both get some free $$ if your friend refers you to their credit union.

[blahandwhatever]

Days of darkness, days of light

I got a bigger project from my new job, which was good, but as usual, I wasn't as efficient as I'd like at getting through it. Yesterday I determined to power through a big chunk of it, sacrificing some fun. At the same time, there were job applications to work on, and my slow main job suddenly had a few projects in one day, leaving me swamped in a way I hadn't been in a while.

Then there was money. After days of procrastination, it was time to ask my mother for help, as I'd promised my landlord I'd have the full rent by the 10th this month. I texted her; she called me back and expressed much concern about my unstable career and worry about my future. Then we talked about my father. He got the divorce papers. Would consider signing them, but only after going to marriage counseling first. Still texting her a lot, having a hard time letting her go. Apparently that's their main means of communication.

She sent me some money, but the conversation took a while, left me frustrated by her negativity (as well as my own part in getting myself into this situation - the fact that I never got around to saving any money, which would help keep me afloat in times like this, is part of the problem, but it was something I'd planned to start doing by the end of this year), and was followed by worrying troubles with bank transfers and more time on the phone with the bank's customer service, which finally concluded it couldn't resolve the issue until morning, when another department would be available. All this cut deep into the shopping trip I'd been trying to leave for and made getting the fresh slice of Costco pizza I craved impossible; wound up just making a quick run to Target.

Back home and ready to get back to work, I got a text from my father. He said my mother had told him I'd sent him an email weeks ago, but he never got it. I had to focus on work, so I replied a couple of hours later and resent the email hours later still to be sure he wouldn't read it that night because I didn't need the additional worry of his response on my plate that night. I wondered if maybe my message would seem too heated now that the drama between my parents had cooled down somewhat, so I added a preface about the context and otherwise sent it along as it was. I was somewhat relieved that it hadn't been deliberately unread - or its message deliberately rejected - but now I had to go through the burden of worrying about his response all over again, though I wasn't going to get as stressed as last time.

Meanwhile, I got a bunch of flies at home again somehow, and one of them buzzed around my bedroom for hours as I worked and continually failed to kill it. I also just felt kind of crap to begin with due to sleeping too long again. In all, it was an entirely oppressive day.

Today I slept less, took care of some bills, turned off all phone notifications, and went for another free admission day at the botanic garden - again leaving later than intended, but not as late as last time; again parking by the forest preserve, this time with no confusion or wastes of time. Again it was good and healing, though a little hot and humid and at times too cloudy. Some of last month's flowers had started dying, and some new ones had come to life. I wandered some areas I didn't get to last time. Saw some baby deer. Eventually checked my messages and only found one from my mother, who backtracked a bit on yesterday's negativity and said my father had read my email and said he was mentally ill if what I wrote was true. That was the only update I'd get today.

Again I craved pizza, and again it was too late to get it at Costco, and I needed eggs too, but I'd just have to go a day without. Again I'd have to spend most of the night working, but I'd had a nice day, and I felt a sense of lightness and relief.

[from-beyond]

literally didn’t do a single thing I intended to do today <3 and the clock keeps on moving!!!!!

[apocalypticgargoyle]

Dream smut or fluff where reader and him are high key mean to eachotjer despite having so many mutual friends, but then something (very vague i know I’m sorry) makes them have to get close and the develop feelings? Sorry I’m shit at requests but thank you!!!

i know this is shitty im sorry akjsdh bls forgive me

𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑. ♘ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

± warnings: dream being a dick, slight slut shaming, toxic behavior, vulgar/suggestive mentions and language, sexual harassment on a bus (not by dream, you can breathe)

⋆ song recommendation: When the Night is Over by Lord Huron

You pulled a blanket beneath your chin, yawning slightly at whatever the tv was playing. You only had it on in an attempt to drown out the noises coming from your roommate's bedroom as she smoozed her date. You were honestly shocked the two hadn’t moved in together yet with all the time they spent wrapped up.

Her door opened, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of you sprawled out on the couch. He marched toward you quietly, hovering over your shoulder. You peered up at her hesitantly. “What are you watching?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper. You furrowed your brows, opening your mouth to speak but she hurriedly cut you off. “Do you mind watching it at Nick’s instead?”

You raised your eyebrows. “You’re kicking me out again?” She gave you an apologetic smile, making you roll your eyes as you stood up and pulled on your jacket. “This would hurt less if they also paid rent,” you mumbled, with a small glare.

She thanked you repeatedly, holding onto your arm as you gathered what little belongings you needed for the night. “I promise I’ll make it up to you,” she courted, opening the door for you. “Tomorrow, dinner’s on me okay?” You sent her a tired look and she apologized again. She stopped you as you stepped out into the cold night, leaning through the space between the door and the frame. “Maybe you can cozy up to that Clay guy? You guys have such a good vibe,” she mocked, making you chuckle lightly.

You shook your head, waving to her. “Enjoy your night. Please, for the love of God, clean the bathroom afterward,” you called, hearing her laugh at your statement.

The bus ride was quiet due to the time of night and the weather, both of which you didn’t mind. You knew Nick’s house would be warm and loud. Before you knew it, you found yourself in front of his apartment door, kicking at the concrete ground as you heard someone stumbling to let you inside. The door opened swiftly, Clay’s large frame blocking the light from the kitchen. He leaned against the doorframe mockingly as he looked at you.

He wet his lips. “Who’s the lucky guy tonight?” He joshed.

You rolled your eyes, brushing past his body to get out of the cold. “Whoever’s dick you’re not sucking, I guess,” you quipped back, making him laugh darkly. You kicked off your shoes as he shut the door. “Where’s Sapnap?” You asked, shrugging off your jacket. You’d texted him ahead of time to ask if you could stay over, which he readily agreed to.

Clay sent you a smug look. “You guys have a fun night planned?” He made a gesture with his hand to insinuate you were there to give Nick a handjob.

You bit back a chuckle. “Why? You wanna join?” You shot back. He bit his lip and moaned pornographically.

“Cut it out, Dream,” Nick grumbled as he walked into the room. He pulled on your arm to follow him.

Dream scoffed exasperatedly. “Me? I’m not the one who started it!” He called after the two of you.

As Nick pushed you out of the room, you turned your head. “You most certainly did!” You answered. You heard him chuckle at your words as Nick shut the door to his room. You plopped down on his bed as he sat in his chair, swiveling to look at you. “Why does Dream pick at me so much?” You mumbled, fishing in your pockets for your phone.

“He’s jealous,” Nick answered absent-mindedly. “What's the date look like tonight?” He asked, referring to the reason you were there in the first place. This wasn’t the first time or the last time your roommate had kicked you out. It was becoming a more frequent occurrence for you to end up on Nick’s couch or at their place in the middle of the day with your toothbrush and a change of clothes.

You moved to lean into his pillows. “I don’t know, it's the same granola fucker she’s been hanging around,” you answered.

He rubbed his chin with a slight smirk. “There’s a subtle justice to knowing she’s still with that asshat,” he commented, making you snort.

A week later, you were on your way back to your apartment after a lecture when someone felt you up. It was the straw on the camel’s back for you as you spin around to smack the guy, stirring up a few of the bystanders. You’d walked the rest of the way home, stepping through the door to be met with your roommate and her hookup twisted together in the kitchen.

You clamped your hand over your eyes, mumbling about how you just wanted to take a nap when you were once again sent to Nick’s. You let subtle tears fall as you trudged your way across the city, hoping to get out whatever darkness you had to your attitude. The last thing you wanted to do was confront Clay looking like you did. He was like the troll with the keys to the bridge. That was really the only reason the two of you ever talked, so you knew he’d be waiting to berate you before you could get to Nick.

As you walked into the building, you spotted Clay carrying a large box, his hair slightly disheveled and his hands dirty. You knew almost instantly that he was probably attempting to fix the kitchen sink and got a call because of the size of the package. That sink had been dripping since they’d moved in, making it Clay’s mission to futz around with it every Friday afternoon. You tried helping him one time, only ending up with a deflated sense of confidence and the second wave of your childhood anger issues.

He nodded at you as you held the elevator door open for him. “What’s up, babycakes?” He chirped, popping his gum. When you hesitated to answer, he looked at you fully, scoffing. “Damn, walk of shame gone sour?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, inhaling deeply to try and calm your nerves. “I’m not really in the mood today,” you muttered, tucking your hands between your back and the wall.

He snorted, setting the box down between his feet. “You’re always in the mood! Isn’t that like your thing,” he continued to jeer. “You look like you had a fun night though-”

“Clay, stop. I’m serious,” barked at him. His expression twisting at your use of his name.

He raised his hands in mock defense. “Sorry, I thought we had---like a bit thing, um-” he cut himself off, awkwardly shoving his fists in his pockets. After a beat of silence between the two of you, the elevator came to a sharp halt on the wrong floor, the light switching to red. The two of you shared a look, knowing that the landlord was probably flipping the wrong switches again. Clay texted Nick to see what was going on.

It began to grow colder in the elevator, as it usually did. When it was off, the cold from outside usually seeped in through the elevator shaft. There was one time you were stuck in the elevator for a few hours with one of your neighbors and Karl when he had come to visit. Back then, the three of you played Uno on the guy’s phone. It was also summer, so the chill creeping up your legs wasn’t as intolerable as it was now.

You rubbed the arms of your sweater in hopes of generating some kind of warmth. Clay watched you carefully, his hands moving to grip the bar behind him. “Do you want my sweatshirt?” He offered. You shook your head, sliding onto the ground and hugging your knees to your chest. He hesitantly slumped down beside you, kicking his long legs out towards the door. The red light filling the space made his features look softer.

He nudged your arm gently with his own. “I know I’m not Sapnap, but…” he chewed on the inside of his cheek, shrugging slightly, “I mean, we’re stuck in here. We can talk about it.”

You blinked away the tears threatening to spill once again, your eyes burning and tired. “I haven’t slept with him, you know?” You stated, turning to look at him briefly before moving to sit cross-legged, planning with your fingers. “I’ve never even kissed him. I’ve never kissed anyone,” you scoffed. Clay was silent, but out of the corner of your eye, you could see him watching you intently.

Being this close to him, you could smell the smoky vanilla undertones of his cologne. The scent reminded you of a masculine version of the candle your aunt always burned when she went out for a night to spite her ex-husband.

Clay leaned his head back against the wood paneling, his soft blond hair flattening in the back to spread against the wall. You swallowed, sighing slightly. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and I’m getting groped on the bus and kicked out of my damn apartment because my roommate and her fucking boyfriend have to hook up on every surface. Nothing is sacred.” You shook your head, wiping away some stray tears with the back of your hand and sniffling pathetically. “You can keep making slut jokes, I don’t care. But I swear to God, I haven’t done anything with Sapnap. Or Karl, or Quackity. No one.”

He chuckled softly. “I know. That’s why I used to make those jokes,” he mumbled. “It was like… ironic humor. And then it got so far that the only way I knew you’d talk back to me was if I was fucking around with you,” he admitted. You chuckled slightly at his words, taking a deep breath.

“Oh, Dream,” you sighed. “I would have hooked up with you if you weren’t such an ass,” you chided. His laugh made you feel better. He held his hand out to you, more for support than anything, but as you laced your fingers with his, your heart eased, feeling safe beside him.

After a beat of silence, he spoke up again. "I can ride the bus with you now... if you want..." He offered, a shyness that seemed so foreign to his character shown through his eyes. "I promise I won't grope you," he joshed, making you roll your eyes.

"That's really not something we should be joking about," you mumbled, wiping away the rest of your tears on your sleeve.

His thumb brushed against the back of your hand soothingly. "I mask my awkwardness around you in dark humor. I'm sorry."

[lunarmessenger]

May I request headcanons for the RFA + V & Saeran as yanderes? Also, I feel like your work is really underrated, and I wanted you to know that I love you and your writing so much! I hope you have a wonderful day/night :)

YANDERE RFA, V + SAERAN

warnings: mentions of violence and death.

of course you can sweetie! thank u for feeding my yandere obsession mMF YES. Oh my gosh thank you???? I’m so glad that you enjoy my writing!!! T_T that means so so much to me, and I hope you’re enjoying a beautiful day/night as well! this ended up being a little long sorry HAHAHA - luna xx

Zen

• You were both at a local tavern together with the rest of the RFA to celebrate another successful performance of his

• People who were fans of his came up every now and then asking for pictures and autographs and of course you didn’t mind

• Both of you actually enjoyed when his fans would come up because it showed his constant growth and that he was getting closer to his dream every day

• But with his popularity rising, so was yours

• You didn’t have fans necessarily, just admirers that thought you were rather pretty

• One of those admirers happened to be at the tavern and they approached you, a slight tint of red on their cheeks

• “Hello! I really don’t mean to interrupt but, I just wanted to say that I think you’re amazing with all of the help that you do with those amazing parties.”

• You were touched, and while you thanked them while giving them a brief hug you hadn’t noticed that Zen’s mood darkened instantly.

• They had long walked away from you both, and after about an hour Zen gave you a kiss to your forehead while smiling that same sweet smile

• “I’m going to go get some air for a moment, princess.”

• “Are you okay, Zen?”

• “Oh of course, I just wanted to go have a smoke.”

• You disapproved but allowed it anyway, giving him a peck on the lips as he walked away

• You had no idea that he’d singled out that admirer of yours, luring them outside into the alleyway

• He was on them, arm pressed against their neck in the shadows as he pinned them to the wall, eyes dark with jealousy as he growled at them

• “Who gave you the right to talk to MC, hm? Looks like you need to learn a few things...”

• When he came back inside you noticed that his knuckles were slightly bruised, but he still had that same smile that you’d always felt safe with

• “You’re okay...right Zen?”

• “Of course, princess. Nothing to worry about.”

Yoosung

• The epitome of a yandere

• You had decided to drop by at his college to bring him some home made lunch since he’d been a little stressed

• He was sitting with his study group outside on the grass, all of them furiously writing down their notes with their books open

• “Yoosung~ I brought you some stew! You’ve been working so hard.”

• His face instantly lights up as you stroll up, holding out his lunch as you kneel down next to him

• “MC! This is so sweet! Thank you so much!” You were met with endless quick kisses to your face, earning groans and playful complaints from his group

• You kissed the top of his head then walked away, and as soon as you were out of sight his friends just lay it on him

• “Honestly though Yoosung, I’m super jealous. MC is very caring, I wish I had someone like them.”

• yandere mode activated

• He asked that specific friend to help him with a certain subject for just another hour while everyone else packed up

• While they were walking to their classroom together to put away their books Yoosung suddenly grabbed them by the neck and dragged them into an empty classroom

• “You think that you can talk about MC that way? Understand that they’re mine, and don’t you ever forget it.”

• He choked them until their eyes rolled into the back of their head, only letting go when they’d stopped struggling so much

• They were left there, passed out on the ground while Yoosung walked away and went home

• There you were waiting for him, dinner already set out on the table as you grinned at his entrance

• “Honey you’re back!” He smiled, dropping his book bag as he opened his arms for you

• “My precious MC.”

Jaehee

• She was always rather protective of you

• Working at C&R showed her both the good and bad sides of people, especially those involved with business

• So when you’d both gotten to finally have that coffee shop together she’d noticed that the owner of the entire strip was getting a little...too comfortable with you

• They had even mentioned to Jaehee now and then how fun it would be for all of you to “hang out” and that was enough to get them on her blacklist

• You were oblivious of course and that was okay because she was going to take care of it

• “MC, would you mind going shopping for some supplies for the shop? I forgot to grab a couple of things, I’ll meet with the landlord myself to discuss any changes of rent, so don’t worry.”

• Of course you didn’t mind, but you were a little discouraged because it would take you at least an hour to get everything that was on the list she’d handed you

• And, that’s what she was planning on obviously

• She drove to the leasing office after making an appointment with the owner a couple of weeks prior, long hair shaping her face and chest as she purposely tugged down her shirt a little more

• Within minutes the owner was interested, though was still making comments about you and how “sweet and innocent” you were, almost as if describing a toy

• That was enough to make Jaehee grab them by the shoulder and toss them to the ground, hand pressing hard into their chest as they gasped for air, eyes empty as she stared them down

• “MC is not a toy, and you shall treat them with proper respect. They are my partner, and are not open to being with anybody else. Is that understood?”

• The owner was terrified, and just to make sure she didn’t come to them again offered to have you both not pay the rent for the rest of the lease until it was renewed

• “Jaehee! I don’t know how, but we suddenly have enough money to take that trip you wanted to go on! I guess profits have been really great this year!”

• She only smiled, coming up to you from behind and wrapping her arms around you into a warm, yet tight hug

• “It’s all because of you, MC. Without you I would still be lost. Never forget that I love you, and I would do anything to make you happy.”

Jumin

• Also another yandere type man

• He’d invited you along on a business trip in Dubai, and of course you were excited to go just because you were going to be with him

• After a meeting he’d offered to take you to the beach and you were beyond excited, leaving him in the sand as you ran for the ocean

• He watched fondly as you stripped off your bathing suit cover and waded in the water

• He had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life, and he was thoroughly proud of himself for deciding to take you along with him during a trip

• That is until you were walking back up to the cabana he was under, his brows furrowing as he noticed that you were crossing your arms over your body

• “MC? Is everything alright?”

• You slowly shook your head, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around your body as you sat down on his lap and leaned against his chest

• “I just felt a bit uncomfortable...when you’re done with that glass of wine, can we go back to our hotel?”

• It was then that he looked up in the direction you were walking from, a couple of men staring at you as they chuckled and laughed at themselves while making inappropriate gestures

• He immediately grabbed your shoulders, gently pushing you away so  you could meet his eyes

• “Did they touch you, MC? At all?”

• You shook your head, but he knew that they came pretty close to it from how violently you were shaking just from thinking about it

• While you were resting in his lap he brought up his cell phone, texting the head of his body guards a couple of orders before placing his sunglasses up on his head to look those men in the eye

• Within minutes those two men had been discreetly grabbed and walked off the beach, their eyes full of fear while Jumin smirked as they walked away

• Later that night after you’d fallen asleep in the hotel room he slipped out of the room, adjusting the tie as he took the elevator down to the basement with his escorts

• He was led to a private room, those two men from the beach sitting on chairs in a dimly lit room, faces contorted in fear as Jumin emerged from the shadows

• He gave a heavy sigh, shaking his head as he rolled up the sleeves of his suit, leaning in close as he clicked his tongue

• “You gentlemen have no idea who you’ve messed with. You’ll never see the light of day again.”

• By the time he was back up in the bedroom it was day light, his clothes a bit rough but not enough for you to notice due to the groggy feeling you had from sleep

• “Jumin? Where did you go, honey?”

• “Just an emergency meeting, kitten. Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.”

• You hadn’t even noticed the slight hint of blood on the back of his neck...

707

• He’d noticed that you were feeling a bit off for the last couple of weeks, and he’d finally decided to address it with you

• That’s when you told him that you were dealing with your ex partner, who’d recently began to message you non-stop

• The breakup had been extremely messy, and now they were asking for you back

• His eyes clouded over as he asked you to see your phone, and of course you obliged

• He was happy to see that you’d mentioned endlessly that you were with somebody else, going so far as to send a picture of you and Saeyoung so that they would get the hint

• “Can you just block them, Saeyoung? I don’t want to deal with it anymore.”

• He beamed at you, bringing you in for a soft kiss as he hugged you close

• “Of course. Anything for you, MC.”

• And he blocked them of course at your request; but he also decided to take a step further

• He’d found the location of your ex, slipping out in the middle of the night while you were fast asleep

• Bringing Vanderwood with him stating that it was a mission from the agency, he had reached your ex within a few hours, breaking in quietly

• “Why are we really here, Luciel?”

• “Shut up Vanderwood. We’re here to get rid of filth.”

• Your ex slowly woke up to see Saeyoung standing over them, eyes wild as he leaned in close and let out an unhinged giggle

• “You should have left MC alone when you had the chance.”

• Within moments Saeyoung had grabbed them and dragged them out of bed

• He grabbed their head and twisted quickly, a horrifying snap resounding through the quiet bedroom

• “Luciel are you...Luciel?”

• Vanderwood looked shocked at how quickly he hadn’t hesitated, Saeyoung standing over their lifeless body as he looked at his long time partner in crime

• “You do not speak a word of this to MC. Do you understand?”

• Vanderwood agreed without question, and with that the two men drove home in silence

• When you’d awoken Saeyoung was in bed with you, shirt off as he slowly ran his fingers up and down your arms

• “Good morning, Saeyoung. I haven’t heard from my ex for the past few hours; thank you for blocking him.”

• He kissed you softly, running his hands through your hair

• “They won’t bother you anymore, MC. Don’t worry.”

• He smiled.

V

• The two of you had gone to a gallery where he was showcasing his work, the area extremely crowded since he never hosted such events for himself

• His arm was around you all night, except for a brief moment when you’d separated to go use the restroom

• On your way back you were bombarded by reporters, asking all sorts of personal questions while you tried to decline

• V kept his life private for a reason, and while it was very much public information that you two were together, both of you agreed that the public didn’t need to know every single detail about you

• That’s why when he’d noticed the commotion he was immediately engulfed with rage, shoving through the crowd as you tried to protect your eyes from the endless flashes from the cameras

• “Please everybody, back off! Give them some room!”

• He almost snarled, brows furrowed as he took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around you to hide your face

• One particular reporter happened to trip over someone’s feet, shoving you even further into V as you yelped from the contact

• All it took was for V to look at them, and instantly they stumbled backwards, promising that they never purposely tried to hurt you

• Later that day when you’d decided to visit Jaehee to talk about what happened, he took it upon himself to contact that reporter offering an exclusive interview

• The address that the reporter found themselves in was enough to make them regret taking up the offer, waiting outside of an abandoned building

• Before they knew it they were knocked unconscious, V holding an old rusted pipe as he tossed it aside and grabbed the reporter

• He dragged them inside, tossing them into a deep hole that was filled with old rusted metal pieces

• Some were jagged enough that they’d gone right through the reporters limbs and chest, puddles of blood pooling around the now lifeless body as V wiped his nose

• “That will teach you to touch my darling MC.”

• He picked you up from Jaehee’s after taking a shower at home, smiling at you from inside the car as you slid into the passenger seat.

• “Feeling better darling?”

• You nodded, leaning your head against his shoulder as you sighed with a small smile

• “I love you V. Thank you for understanding that I had to get away for a bit.”

• He returned your smile with a slight chuckle

• “I love you too, darling. Glad I could make you feel better.”

Saeran

• He had taken you on a date at the local botanical gardens, the two of you holding hands while he explained every type of flower’s meaning

• It was the perfect day, the sun shining on the two of you as you lazily strolled around

• He thought that absolutely nothing could ruin it

• That is, until one of the employees accidentally bumped into you while holding a few roses, one of the stems brushing against your arms

• “Ouch!”

• You’d cried out, a couple of thorns from the stems sticking out of your skin as you hissed and reached to pluck them out

• “Darling! Oh darling, are you alright?”

• Saeran was immediately fussing over you, and while you were distracted tending to your small scratches the employee immediately looked down in shame and panic

• “I am so so sorry! It was an accident!”

• When you weren’t looking Saeran glared daggers at the employee, taking notice of their name as he told them to leave you two alone

• “Are you sure you’re okay, MC?”

• You looked up with a small smile, shrugging your shoulders as you grabbed his hand

• “I’m fine, Saeran. Oh, did that employee leave already? I wanted to tell them that I was okay...”

• After so much reassurance you both continued on with your day at the garden

• Saeran mused that he had to use the restroom so you promised to wait at one of the benches under the shaded trees in the garden

• While you thought that he was on his way towards the employee’s only sections, having snatched a hat from one of the employees when they weren’t looking and making his way towards the break area

• There he’d found the employee that had bumped into you, standing at their locker; alone.

• He was behind them in minutes, shoving them into the lockers and pressing hard as he let out a deep menacing giggle

• “Found you.”

• He was back to you within twenty minutes; asking that you two finish the day with some ice cream before going home

• Of course you didn’t object, and while you were riding in the car you had heard a slight bump in the back

• “What was that Saeran?”

• “I’m not sure, MC. Let me check and see if something might have fell in the trunk.”

• He pulled over, leaving the stereo on as he got out of the car and opened the trunk

• When he was sure that you weren’t looking he leaned in close, the employee looking up at him with tears in their eyes and duct tape over their mouth

• They were bound by utility wires, squirming in fear as Saeran grabbed the tire iron and grinned down at them

• “Didn’t I say to keep quiet? We’re almost home.”

• With one hard swing the employee was unconscious, Saeran tossing the iron back into the trunk and slamming it closed

• “What was it, Saeran?”

• “Oh, nothing my princess, the spare tire just came loose. Let’s go home, darling.”

[softyoongiionly]

Fear and Dumplings: Chapter Sixteen

(GIF does not belong to me,  my friend sent it to me over text! If anyone knows who made it, please let me know :) )

Confronting your fears for a final grade sounds unappealing but, with Yoongi as your partner, things might not be so bad.

Summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Underground Rapper! Yoongi, Soft!!! Yoongi, Fluff!!!, College! Yoongi, Sub! Yoongi

Word Count: 8.5k

A/N: the love I have for this man is absolutely ridiculous. I have missed this series so much. I hope you love what I’ve done with the place ;) This is such an important chapter that I’ve been planning for the longest time. I hope you like it and, if you do: please please let me know!

NOTE: ALL BOLDED WORDS INDICATE WHEN CHARACTERS ARE SPEAKING KOREAN

Warnings for this Chapter: ok here we go...(TRIGGER WARNING)

minor angst, mentions of anxiety, mentions of criminal activity, mentions of bad parenting and abuse, mentions of trauma and related consequences, language, drug use, smut (holy heck the smut is ALOT).

Chapter Sixteen: The Past and The Present

You’ve never seen Yoongi angry before

Frustrated? Yes.  

Annoyed? Often.

Stressed? Aren’t we all?  

But, never angry.  

He is pissed and, he has a perfectly good reason to be.

A short phone call from his dear friend Sejin left him flushed and furious.

The reason being? Sejin has just informed Yoongi that due to a recent rent increase, Sejin can no longer afford to keep SoundCrowd open.  

“We’re going to figure this out ok? This isn’t over. I’ll talk to you later...”

The two of you had been watching a movie when he called and, your finger finally moves from the pause button as he hangs up his call.

You don’t think you’re going to be finishing it tonight.  

“Yoongi-“

“What the fuck?” His voice is sharp, the fury clear in his rhetorical question as he turns to you, “What the fuck?”

Your hand twitches with the urge to touch him, to soothe him in some way but, Yoongi pushes himself off the couch by the time you try.

“I- I’ve been going to that building for 10 years. Sejin always pays his rent on time, he won’t even eat sometimes just to make sure his bills are paid and, this?? This is how they repay him? Are they serious? How can they just kick him to the side like this? What is he supposed to do? Fu- fuck what am I supposed to do?” Yoongi exhales, raking a hand through his hair as he seems to search helplessly around the room for answers.

Yoongi was supposed to work for Sejin after he graduated.

“Babe, I’m so sorry I- his landlord can’t just do that right? That doesn’t make any sense.” You offer, biting your lip as a humorless laugh leaves Yoongi’s lips.  

“Of course he can, that’s what people like him do right? They gotta make their money. Who gives a shit about this guy and his livelihood? As long as he’s filling his pockets and, collecting his checks- he doesn’t give a single fuck about people like Seijin.”  

Yoongi is blistering.  

He isn't raising his voice at you but, the intensity of his emotions is getting the better of him.  

“This isn’t right. There’s gotta be something we can do to help him, we can talk to Jin maybe? His dad’s a lawyer and-”

“I have to go. I’m gonna go down there and, see if I can talk to the landlord. I have money in savings, I don’t know- maybe he’ll take a bribe or something.” Yoongi interrupts you, completely disregarding your presence all together as he starts to grab his keys.

You don’t want to admit it but, his behavior is hurting your feelings.

You know he’s upset and, you want to respect that but, he’s closing himself off.

Just like he used to...

“Well, let me get my shoes on and I’ll come. You shouldn’t go alone and you shouldn’t have to pay this asshole off. We just need to-”

“I don’t need your help Y/N.” Yoongi’s tone is final, leaving no room for negotiation as his words hit you right in the gut, “I’ll text you later. I’m sorry about the movie.”

With your mouth parted in shock, all you can do is nod as your boyfriend disappears through your front door.

You can honestly say it’s the first time that Yoongi’s ever hurt your feelings.

Like, really really hurt your feelings.

Like, now you’re crying on the couch thinking about why you just became the scapegoat for his frustration.

It’s normal for people to get short when they are upset but, you can’t seem to understand why he treated you that way.  

You thought you were passed all of this but apparently, you were wrong.  

Part of you is telling yourself not to take it personally.  

Whilst the other part of you is wondering why he’s still shutting you out.

Even after everything you’ve been through...

You decide to give him some space.

He’s only human.  

Sometimes, we need time to process things on our own.

The sinking feeling in your stomach doesn’t leave you though and, you try and busy yourself with a few household chores before eventually succumbing to the sadness you feel and crying again.

It be like that.

You sent him a text shortly after he left that read:

You: I’m sorry if I pushed a little too hard. Please let me know if/when you need anything. I love you.  

He still hasn’t responded.  

In an effort to thwart the flurry of emotions in your heart, you end up falling asleep on the couch, hoping that he would respond by the time you wake up.  

Instead, you are awoken by him calling you.

“Hello?” You can hear the grogginess in your voice and, Yoongi picks up on it immediately.

“Did I wake you?”

“Yeah, sorry I took a little nap after I cleaned up.”  

Your hand is over your mouth as you cover up the sound of your yawn whilst Yoongi rushes out his reply.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing. I can’t believe I talked to you like that. I’m r-really sorry. I was so angry and I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” His voice is tighter as if he’s staving off his emotions and, it makes you wanna cry a little bit, “Then I just left? I feel like such a dick...I just didn’t know what to do. I just wanted to go and, I wasn’t thinking.”

“I get it, you just found out some really shitty news. I don’t blame you for being angry at all but, it-” You take a deep breath, attempting to reign in your hurt a little bit before continuing, “it did hurt that you just left like that. I would have given you space if you needed it, I just wish you would have told me instead of shutting me out.”

You can hear him sniffle on the other end of the line.

He’s a little devasted that he hurt you but, he isn’t going to make that the focal point of this conversation.

He just wants to make it right.

“You’re right. I’m so sorry jagiya. I just freaked out...”He sniffles again, the rawness in his voice apparent, “I’m still freaking out and instead of letting you support me, I left and now I feel like an idiot.”

You wipe your eyes, nodding throughout the duration of his sentence, “You're not an idiot at all. I’m still here and, I’m willing to figure this out with you. I just need you to let me ok? I want to help. Where are you right now?”

“I’m at my house. I talked to Sejin for awhile and, I guess he said the landlord is coming by next week to discuss the contract with him. He asked me to be there as a witness and, if you’re alright with it, I would really like it if you came too...”

“Of course.” You smile softly, “Do you want-”

“Can you come over?” Yoongi’s voice cracks finally as you hear him break down on the other end of the line.  

Your heart follows suit as you immediately stand up and, head to your bedroom.

“I’m on my way.”

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

“Come here.” You whisper as your boyfriend opens his bedroom door, pulling him against your chest.

He’s dressed in a hoodie and his boxers, his hair completely disorganized due to the amount of time he’s probably messed with it.

“Jagi, I’m really sorry.” He’s all choked up when he buries his face in your neck and, you’re quick to rub tenderly at his lower back.

“Hey- I forgive you ok? Everyone has their moments baby, don’t be so hard on yourself.” You kiss the side of his face, kicking the door shut before ushering him towards the bed.

“I’m so scared...” He’s whispering now, his voice barely audible as he seems to cling onto the material of your t-shirt, “I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I don’t know how I’m gonna help him.”

Tilting his chin, you level with him, “We’re going to go there next week and, talk to this guy and, see what we can work out. The city instituted a law three months ago stating that rent increases have to be preapproved by the tenant, the landlord and, the property association. That’s what I was trying to tell you before you left.”

Yoongi winces, sighing as he shakes his head, “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I just-” He glances towards you, a bit of apprehension in his eyes, “I’m not used to having someone around when shit like this goes down. I’m still really bad at relying on people and trusting them with my feelings. All I wanted to do was cry and, I didn’t want you to see that.”  

Placing a hand on his, you attempt to lock eyes with him, “Yoongi, I’m your girlfriend. I love you and, I’m not just in this for the good times. I’m in this for the bad times too. I get that it’s your instinct to close yourself off and handle things yourself but, if you want support I’m always here for you.”

Yoongi pulls you in for a hug then, tucking his face into your neck. He takes a deep breath but, he says nothing.  

He just holds you.  

The silence is natural and holds no expectation.  

You’d hug him all night if he needed you to.

Finally, Yoongi does speak and although he could pour his heart out to you right now, he decides to stick with the words that mean the most.

“I love you too.”

The two of you end up falling asleep together shortly after that.

Yoongi’s head is on your chest and the sensation of running your fingers through his hair is enough to lull you into a comfortable slumber.  

Despite the stress of the day, you both sleep through the night.  

Sleeping next to Yoongi brings you an immense amount of comfort.

It just feels right.

You wish you could sleep next to him every night.

The next morning when you awake, you realize very quickly that you’re alone.

Yoongi doesn’t appear to be anywhere in sight and in your slightly worried state, you decide to stumble out of bed to look for him.  

“I can pick up for you if you want, you look like shit.”

“Thanks, that’s exactly what I wanna hear right now.”

“You know what I mean. Hyung, she’s not gonna care, I don’t know why you’re freaking out about this.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No I don’t but, it’s Y/N. She’s doesn’t come across as the judgmental type. I do think it’s kinda weird you haven’t told her yet though, that might be the only thing she’ll have an issue with...”

“That’s why I’m worried. I feel like after everything we’ve been through, I should have been able to tell her this by now...”

“Why haven’t you?”

“I don’t like talking about it.”

“The weed or your parents?”

“Both. I mean, I don’t know-  the weed isn't that bad I guess but, I don’t want her to feel like I lied to her you know?”

“You didn’t lie. You guys just started dating. I’m sure there are plenty of things that you don’t know about her.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of- I feel like everything is always about me. I feel like I never ask about her...”

You know it’s wrong to eavesdrop but, you feel frozen in place, compelled by your own curiosity.

You have a million questions running through your head.

“I have to think about Sejin right now. I’ll smoke later on after I’ve had a chance to talk with her or something. I don’t know. She’s probably up right now, I should go check on her.”

“Take care Hyung, let me know if you need anything.”

Yoongi makes good on his plans to check on you and, thankfully you make it back to the bedroom before he realizes that you were listening in on his conversation.

The rest of the morning goes as planned.  

After grabbing coffee, Yoongi heads to SoundCrowd to ensure that Sejin doesn’t have an eviction notice on his door.

He doesn’t say much on the drive there; he merely holds your hand tightly on the center console, occasionally brushing his thumb over the back of your knuckles.  

It’s a little unnerving and the confrontational part of you wishes to break the silence but, you decide that now isn't really the time to bring up Yoongi’s conversation with Hoseok.  

Thankfully, Sejin’s door remains free of an eviction notice and, Yoongi visibly lets out a sigh of relief at the sight.  

You’re assuming the text he begins sending is to Sejin but, you don’t allow your gaze to linger long enough to find out.  

Upon pulling away from the studio, he lets out a breathy sigh before finally speaking up

“What are you doing this weekend?”

You cock your head, “This weekend as in tomorrow? Or this weekend as in next weekend?”

Yoongi’s lips twitch at your question, “This weekend as in tomorrow.”

“I was just planning on getting everything ready for graduation. I have a tenant coming to look at my apartment in three weeks so I figured I should probably attempt to scrub the spaghetti stain off the back of the fridge...”

He chuckles warmly and shakes his head, “Aside from explaining how you managed to get spaghetti on the back of the fridge, I was wondering if you wanted to uh- go somewhere with me.”

“Somewhere as in?”

“Daegu.”

Your heart skips a beat then, wondering exactly what brought on his sudden invitation.

With parted lips, you attempt to answer him immediately but, your words fail you.  

Yoongi’s teeth find a spot on his lower lip whilst he pulls out of his parking spot.

He can sense your confusion and he knows he can’t get away with asking you back to his hometown without an explanation.

“I need to go see my brother. He-” Yoongi sighs, glancing toward you, “He might be able to help Sejin if I let him know what’s going on.”

This only adds to your list of questions but, thankfully your brain hones in on the key part of this conversation:

“You want me to meet your brother?”

Yoongi hears the sincerity in your tone and it pulls his attention towards you.

“I do. If you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

Squeezing his hand a little tighter, you nod, a small smile forming on your lips, “I’m more than comfortable with it. I would love to meet your brother. When were you planning on leaving?”

Yoongi’s heart sings with your acceptance but, the only evidence of this is a small smile that emerges on his lips.  

“I was gonna leave tomorrow. My brother has uh- he has miles on this airline I can use and, theres more than enough for you too. I know it’s last minute but-”

“I love last minute.” You cut him off, clasping your hands together, “I just need to go back to my apartment to pack and feed Marizpan. I’ll text Jimin and let him know that I’ll be gone this weekend. Does your brother like anything from our area? Should we bring him something?”

Yoongi’s raspy laughter fills the confines of the car as he shakes his head, “I should have known that you’d be down for this kind of thing. If I was in your position, I’d be having a heart attack right now.”

You smile at the sound of his laugh, “Oh I’m sure the panic will set in shortly. But honestly, I’m more focused on the fact that you want me to meet your brother. It means a lot to me that you want me there.”

He squeezes your hand again and, you take a moment to admire the way he looks while he’s driving. Messy black hair, eyes slightly puffy from all the emotion, lips in desperate need of chapstick (and a kiss) and, his long spindly fingers carefully handling the wheel.  

He’s truly out of this world.  

“It means a lot that you want to be there.” He retorts but, there is something amiss within his gaze and you can’t help but remember the conversation you overheard earlier.

There is a beat or two of silence before the two of you break it at the exact same time.

“There’s something I-”

“Hey I-”

“Wait you go first.”

“No, I’m sorry. You go...” You insist, your heartrate picking up uncomfortably in your chest.

Yoongi sighs, dark eyes flitting over to you once or twice before he seems to hyperfocus on the road in front of him.

“There’s something, well- there are a few things I need to tell you before we go.”

Upon glancing away from him and back towards the streets in front of you, you notice that he’s heading towards your apartment.  

Part of you is glad that the two of you don’t have to separate for the duration of the weekend but, another (larger) part is very nervous about the information Yoongi has yet to share.  

Yoongi takes your silence as an invitation to continue but, he doesn’t exactly know where to start.

“There’s kind of a lot that you don’t know about me. It’s nothing I’ve hid intentionally but, I was waiting until it made sense to tell you I guess...” He rakes a free hand through his hair before a rather noticeable tightness arrests his features, “My brother is the only member of my family I still talk to but, it’s not just because they don’t approve of my music.”

You keep your hand firmly entangled with his and with the slight shift in his tone, you reassuringly thumb over his knuckles.

“Uh it’s kind of a lot to explain but- um...” His mouth hangs open as he hesitates between words. Despite the fact that you’re 2 minutes from your apartment, Yoongi looks eagerly at an alleyway, “I’m sorry, do you care if I pull over? I don’t think I can talk about this while I’m driving and, I just really need to get this out because, I’m kind of scared that you’re going to be mad at me and I-”

“Hey- hey...Yoongi it’s ok.You can pull over baby, there’s an alley right here.” You turn in your seat so you can get a proper look at him as he quickly zooms between the ramen shop and the liquor store.  

You’ve never seen him look so nervous before and, it’s starting to freak you out a little bit.  

He attempts to draw in a shaky breath through his nose as he hastily puts his car in park. For a moment, he seems to gather his thoughts, lips pursing in contemplation whilst he wipes a hand over his face.

At last, he turns slightly to unbuckle his seatbelt before he finally allows his eyes to flit to your face.

You shift again so you’re mostly turned towards him and squeeze his hand once more to encourage him to continue.  

“My parents didn’t just kick me out because they found out I was doing music. They kicked me out because I refused to join the family business-” He gathers the courage to look you dead in the eye because, despite his fear, he knows you deserve that level of respect, “and the family business is the within the largest criminal empire Daegu has ever seen.”

Your heart seems to stall in your chest then, your throat drying up with shock as you attempt to take in what he’s saying.

He brings your hand closer to him, wishing desperately that he could guarantee your presence after his explanation.  

But he knows he can’t.

“My parents run a counterfeit operation that basically operates as a gang. They don’t call themselves that but that’s what it is. They produce fake currency, participate in insider trading, they steal, they lie, they’ve-” He swallows, subconciously bringing your hand closer to him once again, “-killed. When I turned 15, my father told me that I’d have to start training to take over but, after everything I had seen. I knew I didn’t want to.”  

“When I told you my parents kicked me out, I wasn’t lying but, I didn’t exactly tell you the whole story. I told you that when they found my lyrics, they freaked out on me, which they did but, it was only after they had spent 6 months trying to bribe me into training.” He licks his lips, his eyes still trained on you as they try and decipher the thoughts running through your head. The truth is, your mind is completely blank at the moment.

“They bought me everything I wanted: cars, clothes, jewelry, they had another wing added to our house for me; they tried everything. I was considering it for a while, my parents didn’t start their operations until I was 9 or 10. I spent the first decade of my life in poverty until things began to turn around. At the time, I didn’t know why but, I figured it out when I was starting high school. My parents had gone insane with power. They got my entire family involved, even my brother. I didn’t blame them at the time; we were so poor our whole life and then suddenly we were rich. I didn’t want it to end but, then I realized- what the cost of our wealth really was.” Yoongi’s a bit breathless as the words just seem to tumble off of his tongue but, he’s unsure how coherent he really sounds.  

Nevertheless, he continues.

He wants to get it over with already.

“One night, when I was sneaking back in through the front gates, I heard something that would solidify my choice.” Yoongi swallows, his hand tightening almost painfully within yours, “My parents must have been on the phone with one of their allies or something but all I heard was a direct order coming from my father ‘kill them all’ he said, ‘every single one of them.’ The next day when I woke up, my brother was shoving his phone in my face. It was a news article about a homicide in another district. I wanted to throw up. I knew it was them. He knew too. We shared this pain between us but, unlike my brother. I couldn’t keep quiet anymore. I had to say something.” His voice is growing unsteady with every passing word and although you have a million questions, all you want him to know is that you’re still here.

“When I confronted my father, he went crazy on me. He had been up for a few days, probably strung out on something and, he beat the shit out of me. That’s when he destroyed my lyrics. He left everything else untouched but my laptop and my pages. He wanted to hurt me in any way he could because, he knew that I wasn’t going to follow in his footsteps. He told me I should be ashamed of myself for accusing them of being involved with the murder but, Y/N-” He’s voice his hoarse now, his sad eyes lined red with emotion as he shoots a desperate look towards you, “It had to be them. It’s the only thing that made sense. After he was finished with me, he told me I had a choice. He said ‘Yoongi, you can either stay here and start contributing to this family or you can disappear with nothing but the clothes on your back.’ So I made my choice. I lived on the streets for awhile until my brother found me one night, he told me about Sejin and tried to set me up with some money but, I wouldn’t take anything from him. Every bit of money my family has, has blood on it. I accepted his offer to live at Sejin’s place and, every thing else I already told you that night at my studio but, I didn’t know how to tell you all of this...I tried to put it all behind me for so long but, now that Sejin is in trouble- I have to go back. My brother left the business too but, he took money with him. He’s loaded and, I know if he knew about Sejin, he’d want to help out. I don’t know- fuck please just tell me what you’re thinking. I know you’re probably mad at me and that’s completely ok- I just didn’t know how to tell you...”

You are honestly shocked by Yoongi’s confession but, you can’t say that you’re mad at him.  

You understand that this extremely complicated.

You don’t think you’d necessarily want to share it either.  

Looking at your boyfriend now, your heart breaks.

His expression is akin to a man completely torn apart. He looks lost, broken, frightened: everything you don’t want him to be.  

You do what comes naturally because, words are not appropriate right now.  

Dropping his hand intially alarms him but, when you lean across the center console to pull him against your chest, he can’t help but break down.  

He cries.

No, he doesn’t cry- he sobs.  

His hands come up to cling to you, the tension in his grip signifying that he’s desperately afraid of letting you go.

With each rigged intake of breath, Yoongi seems to cry harder into your neck, staining the color of your shirt with his tears.  

“My life was so miserable Y/N. I didn’t know how to tell you how bad it was- my whole life. I’m sorry I was such a coward. I’m so sorry I- I didn’t know how to say it. I just wanted you to think I was normal.” He cries and with every word, you hold him tighter.

With every word, your heart breaks.

“You are not a coward Min Yoongi. You are the strongest person I know.” You whisper into his ear, teary eyed yourself as you do your best to hold it together.  

“I’m so sorry jagiya...” Yoongi cries, his voice nearly dropping to a whisper, the nape of his neck slick with sweat due to the anxiety he feels.

He is still so terrified of losing you.  

“You have nothing to be sorry for- look at me...” You command softly, guiding his face out of your neck and cupping it between your palms, “None of this is your fault. I understand why you wouldn’t want to tell me. This is a lot to take in but, baby this isn’t your burden to bear. You aren’t responsible for the choices your parents have made...”

“I don’t come from a good life Y/N. I come from such a horrible family. My family never showed me love, they never showed eachother love. They are bad people and, you deserve more than a man who comes from that. You deserve someone who has a normal family. You deserve more than me...”

“Yoongi, listen to me right now. You are the most incredible man I have ever met. You are smart and brave and selfless and clever and kind and so so special and, I’m not going to sit here and listen to you punish yourself for your parent’s mistakes. They had a beautiful son that they neglected. They created this warped version of yourself that apparently doesn’t deserve love and happiness but that’s bullshit ok?” You’re crying too now because, you want to drive this point home, you want him to know the truth, and believe it.

Everything starts to make sense now.  

Yoongi resists affection because he doesn’t think he deserves it.

He’s denied himself happiness so long because, he doesn’t think he’s worth the trouble.

You need him to know that he is.  

He’s worth so much more than he realizes.

“It’s such bullshit...” You repeat, kissing between his eyes which still flow steadily with tears, his breathing is still so uneven but, he’s hanging on every word you say, “You deserve everything you want. You deserve to be loved. I’m so sorry you had to live like that. I’m so sorry that they never told you how incredible you are but, that doesn’t make it any less true.”

His face crumbles under the weight of your words, his hands coming up to brush against the outside of yours, “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. It wasn’t intentional, you just made me forget how things used to be. I just wanted to pretend like it never happened.”

You understand that.

There are things in your life that you wish you could forget.  

Yoongi eases so much of your troubles that you could empathize with his decision to brush all of this under the rug.

You’ve both been basking in the warm glow of your first love that it was easy to forget what life was like before one another.  

But it doesn’t mean it never happened.  

“The last I heard, my parents had slowed down a bit. They told my brother that they were starting to liquify their assets. I guess he’s getting quite a bit of money from that. It seemed less important when he told me that. I felt like maybe I could just move on but, I realized when I started dating you how much of it really stuck with me. Plus, I felt like I was lying to you. I never want to make you feel like I’m hiding things from you. The only other people that know about this are Namjoon and Hoseok and, Hoseok found out cause he overheard Namjoon and I talking about it.”  

You lean forward once again to place a kiss between his eyes before pulling him back into your arms.

“I hear you. You’re not wrong for waiting to tell me. I’m just sorry you had to deal with all of this internal struggle. I think we forget that we’ve only been dating a few months because of how quickly we fell for eachother. There are things you don’t know about me too you know? Nothing as intense as being the offspring of two criminal masterminds buuuuut you know, still...”

Your attempt to slowly lighten the mood works as a small chuckle is felt within the crook of your neck along with the pinching of your hips.  

“I want to know everything about you.” He murmurs, wrapping his arms around your waist.

Kissing the side of his head, you smile, “It’s a good thing we have so much time then.”

This finally prompts a smile to appear on his face and, although you can’t see it, you can feel it.  

“I love you so much.” Yoongi whispers, placing a kiss on the side of your neck

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

The two of you head back to Yoongi’s house shortly after you pack your things.

Yoongi doesn’t leave your side the entire time, other than to use your bathroom to wash his face and even then, he leaves the door open the whole time.  

After your bags are ready to go, the two of you decide that staying at Yoongi’s place is best since he leaves a little closer to the airport.  

Yoongi booked your flight whilst you were packing and managed to find a flight leaving at 1:20pm the next day.

He didn’t even look at earlier flights because, there is no way he’s getting up before 9am tomorrow, especially not after everything that’s happened today.  

It’s not long before Yoongi is unlocking his front door and as he does, something new graces your senses.

It’s an unmistakeable smell and, immediately Yoongi’s eyes widen as he takes his first breath.  

“Yah Hoseok?? Why does it smell like shit in my house?” Yoongi calls and leads you toward the living room.  

“I told you I was picking up, and that smell is the sign I got the good shit! Come hit this hyung, its fucking gooood.” Hoseok calls back and immediately you start giggling

“Yeah Yoongi, go hit that.” You tease, his earlier conversation with Hoseok making a lot more sense now, “I didn’t know you smoked weed...”

“Did you tell your girlfriend yet or what?” Hoseok calls again and Yoongi’s cheeks are practically on fire at this point as he braves a glance towards you.

“No but you just did pabo...” Yoongi grumbles as he finally leads the two of you into the living room.

Hoseok and Namjoon are spread out on the couch, there eyes completely bloodshot, heavy with the evidence that they had been smoking for awhile. Namjoon chuckles lowly and shakes his head, “Yah, you’re so fucking loud. How do you have the energy to yell after how much we just smoked?” Namjoon smiles pleasantly at you, raising a hand politely, “Hi, Y/N. How are you?”

You smirk, putting your arm around Yoongi’s shoulders, “Hi guys. I’m good, I’d ask how the two of you were doing but, I think I have my answer.”

Yoongi groans before turning towards you quickly, tugging you so your body is pressed against his, “I was gonna tell you too but-”

“Before he starts groveling at your feet,” Namjoon interrupts, “He stopped smoking when he realized he liked you. He hasn’t done anything since because, he was worried that you wouldn’t like it. He was planning on telling you when he asked you to be his girlfriend, which was literally like a week ago so, I’m sure he was gonna tell you soon. But to answer your question, yes your boyfriend smokes weed. A lot of weed.”

Yoongi anxiously scans your face for any sign of disapproval but, all he gets is a tilted chin a kiss on his lips.

“Wow, you’re cute.”  

He furrows his brows, “You’re not mad?”

You giggle as you shake your head, gesturing to the couch, “Yoongi, you’ve met my friends. Taehyung and Jungkook might as well change their names to Jay and Silent Bob...”

“Yooo that’s what I always say about Yoongi and I!” Hoseok cackles, as he points at you, the sound of his voice causing Namjoon to wince.

“Hoseok-ah, lower your voice, you’re ruining my high.” He chuckles before nodding to the table, “See? There you go Hyung, now come over here and smoke this shit with us, you look like you need it.”  

Yoongi looks relieved but, he’s still apprehensive, “You promise you’re cool with it? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable...”

Another giggle leaves you lips as you start tugging him towards the couch, setting your bag on the kitchen counter, “It’s really sweet that you’ve considered my feelings in all of this but, smoking weed isn’t a big deal to me. My family smokes all the time. It’s just not for me because, I have baby lungs but, I have no issue with you smoking it.”  

“Yahhh that’s good shit right there, see hyung? I told you she’d be chill with it. Now come sit down, I’ll pack a bowl for you.” Hoseok smiles, finally heeding Namjoon’s request and lowering his voice.

A small smile is on your boyfriend’s lips then as he looks towards you once again, “Love you...” He mumbles before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You nestle into the corner of their couch whilst Hoseok thoughtfully packs the clusters of weed into a solid black, glass pipe.

“Is that my piece?”  Yoongi asks with an arched brow and Hoseok merely shrugs

“You havent been using it and this shit was expensive so Joon and I snagged it from you. You can have it back if you’re gonna start smoking again but other than that, I’m keeping it.”  

“You can’t keep it, that was his birthday present.” Namjoon grumbles, playfully hitting Hoseok’s thigh.

Yoongi licks his lips as takes a spot next you, mindlessly rubbing his hand over your bended knee, “I want it either way. Don’t take my shit.” He smirks before jerking his head  to the pipe, “Let me see it, you’re not packing it right.”

“Right? That’s what I’m saying, he packs it too thin!” Namjoon exclaims, his hand resting on his stomach

“Fuck off, if I pack it so thin, why are you stoned out of your mind right now?”

Namjoon chuckles again, tilting his head in agreement, “Because I haven’t smoked in awhile either, med school fucked my tolerance up.”

Namjoon and Hoseok’s dialogue seems to fade in the background as your attentions hones in on Yoongi.

His black hair is falling in his face while he tries to save the “poor” job Hoseok was doing. He has his tongue poking between his lips whilst he concentrates, his fingers delicately working the weed where he feels it belongs.  

He keeps twitching his nose and jerking his head to the side, trying to get his hair out of his face until finally you reach out and tuck the strand behind his ear.  

Yoongi instantly grins as you do and turns to the side and playfully snaps his teeth at your fingers.

“Heyyy, I’m trying to help you...” You giggle, “I don’t want you to smoke your hair.”

“I got this.” He assures you before timid eyes land on you once more, “Are you sure you’re good with this?”  

“I promise.” You assure him for the millionth time before reaching towards the coffee table to hand him a lighter, “Here.”

Yoongi smirks shyly as he mumbles a thank you before raising the pipe to his lips.

He raises the lighter to the nest of green positioned to his liking before using his thumb to set it on fire. As he inhales deeply, his eyes flutter shut while his chest puffs out with the force of his breath.  

Within 10 seconds or so, he’s pulling away, pausing for a second before exhaling a thick cloud of smoke.  

“Fuck me...” He chuckle deeply, smoke still rushing out of his lips, “That is good shit. Who did you pick up from?”

“Right?” Hoseok laughs, flopping back against the couch, “It’s one of Jin’s friends, he started growing recently so, I wanted to help him get started. I need to tell him to keep doing what he’s doing.”  

Yoongi just nods before using the butt of the lighter to press the bud down. Within a few seconds, he’s lighting up again, the hair you tucked behind his ear quickly falling in his face again.

You really can’t help yourself.

You feel like a such a cliché right now but, there is something so hot about watching Yoongi smoke.

He looks like every bad boy in every single shitty romance novel and, god you can’t help but press your thighs together at the sight.  

Yoongi tilts his head back, exposing the long column of his throat as he exhales another hit, a smirk hanging on the end of lips.

His adams apple bobs as he swallows back a cough before slumping against the cushions.

“Here-” He hands the pipe back to Hoseok, “I think I’m good right now, it’s already kicking in.”  

You’re practically drooling at the sight of your boyfriend right now but, you don’t want to be too obvious.

Between Namjoon’s observation skills and Hoseok’s bluntness, you’re doomed to be called out if you don’t reign it in.  

“I told you hyung, this guy is the new plug. Y/N...” Hoseok holds the pipe up, “Are you sure you don’t want any?”

“No I-” Your voice comes out awfully squeaky and it immediately causes Yoongi to turn his head towards you. Clearing your throat, you continue, “No, I’m good thank you. Can I have some water though? My throat is really dry.”

Yoongi shoots up immediately, “Shit jagi, I’m sorry. I didn’t offer you anything. I’ll get it right now. You sure you want water? I can make you a drink or we have gatorade and some sprite too.”  

His eyes are definitely heavier with the slightest tint of red but, they still hold the same bit of attentiveness they always do.

“Water is good babe, thank you.”  

Hoseok grins, “Whiiiippppeeeddddd.” He slurs and Namjoon chuckles but, otherwise keeps quiet.

Yoongi merely smirks before heading over to the kitchen to get you a bottle of water.

“You’re being too informal.” He admonishes, still smirking as his face is illuminated by the light from the fridge, “Just one jagi?”

He holds up a bottle of water, his eyes holding a bit more sweetness as he directs his attention towards you.

“One is perfect.” You giggle at their banter, tucking yourself further into the couch, already wishing for Yoongi to be back beside you.

“One is perfect babyyyy...” Hoseok cackles again, the effects of the weed likely increasing his usual nature.

“Shut up.” You laugh again, smacking his shoulder lightly.

“Yah hyung! Your girlfriend is over here smacking me around!” Hoseok yells again despite the fact that Yoongi is literally in the same room.

“Hoseok-ahhhhhh...” Namjoon whines, putting a pillow over his face, “Stop yelling bro, it’s too fucking loud.”

Hoseok is still giggling, despite his hyung’s warnings as Yoongi finally returns from the kitchen.

“Seriously...” He mumbles in agreement as he hands you the water but, as you reach out to take it, he slumps beside you and takes your wrist in his hand,lowering his tone, “Yah, I’m the only one you should be smacking around yeah?”

His eyes are hooded, his lips still upturned in a smirk as he unscrews the cap for you, holding it out to your lips, “Here’s your water jagiya...”

For once, you’re a little speechless but, you take his offer anyway, securing your lips around the water bottle.

His eyes linger as you take a few sips from it before he screws the cap back on for you, setting back on the coffee table.

“You’re bad.” You giggle, impressed by Yoongi’s boldness

He just grins, cat-like as ever, and lays his head in your lap, subtly nuzzling against your thigh.

“This shit is going to put your boyfriend to sleep, Y/N so be prepared to carry his ass off to bed in a bit.” Namjoon comments, smirking almost fondly at his hyung.

“I’m prepared.” You snicker and, just like Yoongi, you lower your voice to a volume just for him, “I thought putting you to sleep was my job?”

With your teasing question, you run your fingers through his hair and much to your delight, a shiver runs down his spine.

He nuzzles further into your thigh, his hand gripping the outside of it whilst he replies, “It still is.”

It’s all he can muster up for now but, you don’t miss the glint in his eyes before they flutter shut.

The TV has been on since you’ve arrived but Hoseok finally changes the channel and, you continue you running your digits through your boyfriends silky locks.

This goes on for quite some time until your touch begins to have an unexpected effect on your boyfriend’s resolve.

Having you play with his hair when he’s sober is amazing/comforting but, it’s intensified due to his intoxication and the sensations are turning him on.  

It’s not long until you both end up in his bedroom and as soon as he shuts the door, he’s pressing you up against it.

With a dark chuckle, he’s kissing at your mouth, taking a deep breath as he allows his hands to explore your body.

“God you really know how to get my dick hard don’t you?”

You laugh into his lips, kissing him back eagerly as your hands push his jacket off of his shoulders, “Is your dick hard right now?”  

It’s a bullshit question.

You already know he’s hard.

You could tell by the way he walked you awkwardly into his room.  

“I don’t know-” He teases, pressing his hips against yours, allowing you to feel the tightness in his jeans, “What do you think?”

Your mouth waters at the feeling of him, your hand quickly travelling down to rub over his dick.

“Fuck-” Yoongi hisses, his head falling forward onto your shoulder.

“You feel hard to me.” You whisper in his ear, nibbling on the shell of it, enjoying the way he trembles for you.

“I’m so sensitive right now- jesus christ.” He mutters, mostly to himself before kissing up your neck.

With his hips pressed to your hand, he brings his heavy gaze to yours, a smirk crawling it’s way onto his lips, “Is this ready for me right now?” He practically coos, sliding his hand from your hip to the ache between your legs, cupping your pussy.

After the past few days he’s had, you don’t have the urge to tease him.

All you want to do is fuck his brains out.  

“Mhm...” You hum, kissing at his lips as you slowly begin to back him up towards the bed. “Right now.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles again, his eyes heavier due to the lust and the weed coursing through his body, “Will you come ride this dick for me then?”

Whilst the two of you are talking, you’re tugging at one another’s clothes and, the next thing you know it; you’re both laying naked on Yoongi’s bed.

He’s big hands slide up the outside of your thighs, squeezing roughly once they get to your ask before he continues his verbal assault on your sanity.

“I’m so fucking hard right now. I’m gonna give you so much baby. I’m gonna fill it up until it drips all over my sheets...”

This shit is hitting different.

Yoongi’s never spoken like this before and you’d be lying if you said it set you on fire.

When his head hits the pillow, the onyx tendrils on his head splay messily across the pillowcase.

Licking your lips, you slide your hands up your body, caressing your breasts, brushing your sex along Yoongi’s twitching dick.

“Oh my god, look at you. You’re so fucking pretty c’mere...” He groans, ushering you back down to his lips, kissing you tenderly, “You gon’ ride this dick for me baby? Let me into this pretty pussy of yours?”

“Uh-huh...” You grunt, sucking on his bottom lip, bracing your hands on either side of his head, “I wanna make you cum so hard...”

“Oh jagiyaaa...” He laughs and its that rickety, almost evil kind of laughter that you find so attractive, “That’s the only way you’ve ever made me cum. Your baby is sensitive when he’s high though, so you gotta be careful or I’m gonna cum before you’ve even started...”

Jesus christ.

“You want it gentle then?”  

“Nah. I want you to ride it how you want to. It’s your dick isn’t it? You take care of it how you see fit. I just wanna watch and cum inside you.”

His words snap something inside of you and, before you know it, you’re sinking down on his throbbing dick.

Yoongi grins as soon as he feels you, his hands immediately taking purchase on your hips.

“Oh shit, that’s it...” Yoongi’s whimpering but its low and slow and, it fills you with more motivation.

You lean down, brushing your mouth against his, nibbling on the plump flesh of his bottom lip.

“Good?” You whisper as your hands dig into the pillow beside his head.

His dick is made for you, you’re certain of it.

It curves perfectly against the spot inside of you that immediately seems to make you sick with pleasure.

Yoongi's lopsided smirk has yet to fade but he eagerly presses his lips to yours, his hands coming up to secure your face.

He just nods before sliding his tongue into your mouth, brushing slowly against the side of your own, his hips pumping up along with the rhythm you’ve set.

Throughout your lust-driven haze, you feel him pull away, his hand still cupping your cheek.

“This pussy is good. I swear to god, it’s gonna make me lose my shit. Fu-fuck me...” He stutters when you bottom out on him again, your walls fluttering around him sinfully,  

He shoots a pleading look your way but, he’s rendered speechless as you increase your pace on him.

“I love when you’re inside of me.” You say because its’ the truth and you never get tired of telling him, “I love when you cum inside of me. You’re the only one who makes me feel this way.”

Yoongi’s mouth parts in awe, his moan getting caught at the back of his throat as his gaze flits eagerly between your thighs.

“Mine...” Yoongi croons in Korean, unable to conjure up a coherent thought.

You know this word though and, you’re prepared with a reponse.

“Yours.” You kiss him again, locking eyes with him once more, “Forever.”

That’s enough to break him.

He’s cumming hard inside of you now, rope after rope of his release painting every inch he can reach, his body tightening with the force of his orgasm.

In spite of his current state, he still manages to rub your clit whilst you chase your own high, confessing his love for you over and over again until the two of you are completely spent.

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

Later on that evening, the two of you decide to sit in the backyard around the fire pit and snuggle up under one of Yoongi’s many throw blankets, relishing in one another.

Pressing a kiss to the backs of your knuckles, Yoongi murmurs some of the things he’s always too afraid to say.

“I hope you know how much you mean to me. I know that things aren’t always easy with me and, I hope that after today, you can understand why. But, I still hope you know...how much I love you.”  

His words send butterflies into your stomach as you snuggle closer to him, “I’ve never felt more loved than when I’m with you, Yoongi, even if you don’t say anything. I know.” You kiss his check before tilting his face towards yours, “And I hope, even when you’re having a tough day or a tough week, you know that I have your back. I hope you never have to feel alone or unloved ever again. Because I’ll always be here for you and, I’ll always love you.”

He smiles, gums and all before surging forward to kiss you, his hands delicately brushing against your cheeks.

“Angel.”

It’s all he whispers before kissing you again, pouring his love into each of his movements.

You want to argue with him; you want to tell him that he’s the angel but, instead you smile into his lips as you always do, and just kiss him.

Yoongi decides in that moment that he doesn’t have to do life alone anymore.  

He decides that he’s found his team member.

His partner.

His lover.

His soulmate.  

[hanniiesuckle17]

Stray Kids: Celebrating Their S/o's Birthday

A/n: this was requested by @9staytiny8-allie-5moarmy7​ this was such a cute idea! I hope you like it! I got a little carried away with jinnie’s and chan’s lol

Bangchan:

The ringing of your phone brought your attention away from your schoolwork. The familiar sound of your boyfriend’s verse in ‘WOW’ filled the room making you laugh. “Hey! Are you home?” Chan said as you enabled video chat. 

“Yeah, I got home about an hour ago. Are you in the car?” 

He nodded and adjusted his phone. “So, I know we couldn’t be together for your birthday because I’m on tour and I’m really sorry.” He sighed, a frown on his face. It was a little disappointing Chan wasn’t here, but you had finally accepted the fact that he wasn’t going to be home. “Chan, don’t apologize! It’s fine! We’ve only been going out a couple months. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I’m going to call you when I get back to the hotel in about thirty minutes. Put on something nice!” 

Confused you nodded and smiled at him before he hung up. Following your boyfriend’s direction you put on some makeup and put on a nice dress. Just as he said Chan called you back, this time on your laptop. When you answered you laughed seeing Chan in a nice suit. “Happy Birthday, baby girl!” 

“Chan! What are you doing?” 

“You and I are going to have a special birthday dinner to celebrate.” 

“But how-” Suddenly your doorbell rang. Chan smiled and pulled a plate in front of him, probably from room service. “You better get that, baby.” Standing, you answered the door to see a man holding takeout from your favorite restaurant. He told you someone had already paid for the meal. Quickly, you ran back to Chan on your laptop.

“Chan you are the best. This is the best gift ever!”

“Oh, your gift is still in the mail. Don’t worry.”

Minho:

“Y/n! Hey, honey, open the door!” Your brows furrowed hearing your boyfriend's voice from outside your apartment. Getting off the couch, you walked over and opened the door. There stood Minho carrying one very large birthday bag and a cat carrier. He also had a cat strapped to his chest in one of those baby slings and another peeking over his shoulder

“You brought the cats?” You said with a laugh.

“This is a family affair. Of course, I brought our children.”

You laughed as he walked into your apartment and started to let his cats down. You thought it was cute that you had only been dating for six months yet he considered you a second parent to Soongi, Doongi, and Doori. 

Minho watched his little cats explore your apartment before turning to you. “Am I cooking or ordering, because your cute little butt is not lifting a finger tonight.” He smiled and wrapped his arms around you.

“Will you order in? I want cuddles.”

“Of course!” 

“Can it be pizza and sides?” 

“....Sure!” 

You laughed as he pulled out his phone and ordered the pizza. He followed you as you plopped down on the couch, pulling him down with you. A cat soon followed jumping up on your stomach.  Happily, the two of you sat on your couch with your kitty children and snacking on pizza. 

Changbin:

You checked yourself in the mirror one last time. Changbin would be here any minute to pick you up. You had been together for almost a year now, but you still got nervous before going out with him. “I should change my lipstick. This is way too dark.” 

Before you could return to your makeup to change, someone knocked on the door. With a nervous smile, you opened the door to see Changbin dressed in a nice suit. “Wow, you look...incredible. Happy Birthday, gorgeous.” He handed you the prettiest bouquet of flowers you had ever seen.

“You ready to go?” He asked with a bright smile, looking you up and down. You watched him nervously wring his hands together with a cute smile. After nodding, he offered you his arm and escorted you to his car. On the way to the restaurant, you were surprised with a playlist filled with all of your favorite songs made by him. 

“My lady,” Changbin said opening your door. “Thank you, my good sir.” Looping your arm through his, he led you into the very nice restaurant. Your eyes widened, when you saw the expensive decor and the trays of fancy appetizers 

“Bin, you didn’t have to do this!” You said as the waiter led the two of you to a secluded booth. He shrugged and sat down pulling out the menu.

“It’s your birthday, gorgeous. Order anything you want. Also little heads up, I told them to sing when they bring the champagne.”

“Bin!”

Hyunjin:

“Okay, get dressed. We are going out,” Hyunjin said walking into your bedroom. “Umm excuse you? When did you even get here?” Hyunjin being the dramatic ass he was slammed your bedroom door letting his jaw drop.

“No, no, no, no, no. You aren’t turning this on me. I’m the one who just found out through Snapchat that it’s your birthday today!”

You laughed as he walked over to your closet and started searching through your clothes. You had only been dating for a couple of weeks so you didn’t really think Hyunjin would care so much if you just let the day slip by. You certainly hadn’t expected him to barge into your apartment unannounced.“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But, I don’t want you to spend money on me, okay? You worked really hard. Don’t spend it on me.”

“LET ME SPOIL YOU, WOMAN. WE MUST HONOR THE DAY YOU CAME TO THIS EARTH!”

You laughed as he tossed a dress at you. “Hyunjin, I don’t really want to go out.” He sighed and reluctantly put the dress back in your closet when you threw it back to him. You watched your boyfriend fall back onto your bed, clearly exasperated. 

“Y/n if you don’t let me do something for your birthday I’ll jump off your balcony.” Instead of responding you just turned back to your homework. Your eyes widened hearing your sliding door open. “I’m not kidding, I’ll do it.” Hyunjin stood facing you on the ledge of your balcony, a completely serious look on his handsome face. “Fine. Do it.” Without questioning it, Hyunjin fell backward off the balcony. “OW!” He yelped. Quickly you rushed over to the balcony to see Hyunjin lying on the grass about four feet below. “Did you forget I live on the first floor?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why don’t you come back in and I’ll let you buy me a pizza?”

Jisung:

Today had not been the best of days. Your professor gave you a four-page paper due in two days and your landlord just told you he was increasing your rent next month. On top of that, it seems your parents had forgotten your birthday. And much to your disappointment, it seems your boyfriend had too. The two of you had exchanged numerous texts today despite his busy schedule, and yet he didn’t even say ‘Happy Birthday’.

You really just wanted to heat up some leftovers and go to bed early. Finally, the key turned in your lock to reveal your dark apartment. That’s funny. You were almost certain you left a light on in the living room. Then you noticed the extra pair of shoes by the door.  “Jisung? Are you here?” Then you heard footsteps shuffle in from the kitchen.

“Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear Y/n! Happy Birthday to you!” 

You almost cried seeing Jisung carrying in a lit birthday cake from your kitchen. You never should have doubted him. You knew he wouldn’t forget the first birthday you spent together. “Happy birthday, baby.” He said standing in front of you with the cake, his cute smile lighting the room up brighter than the candles. Wiping away a tear, you blew out the candles and set the cake down on the table wrapping him up in a hug.

“I thought you forgot.”

“Never, baby. I’m gonna be here for so many birthdays that you’ll get sick of me.”

You laughed as he kissed the top of your head. This was one of the best birthdays ever thanks to Jisung. “Thank you, Sungie. I’ve got a present for you in return.” He smiled when you leaned up and pressed your lips to his.

“Hey! It’s your birthday! Leave the present giving to me!” He said as he attacked your lips and face with kisses, making you laugh.

Felix:

“DON’T COME IN THE KITCHEN!” Your boyfriend, Felix, shouted at you in your bedroom. He had locked you in there claiming to ‘need time to prepare your birthday surprise’. While you and Felix had only been dating about three months, you had been friends much longer. And it genuinely scared you that Felix was alone in your kitchen with knives, and potential fire, and.....well that was about it. You were okay if he made your food taste bad.

Several nerve-wracking sounds came from your kitchen and all you could do was nervously sit on your bed. “Felix are you done yet?” You called checking the time. He had been at this close to two hours now. 

“Almost! I’m plating!”

“You know what plating is?” 

“Yeah, I saw it on CHOPPED.”

After a few more minutes, Felix called out again. “Okay, you can come out now, Y/n!” Smiling, you opened your door and walked into your relatively small kitchen. When you walked in you were greeted with your boyfriend doing a silly little dance as he sprinkled cheese on top of the plates.

“Felix, oh my god! This is incredible!” The plates were gorgeously plated with your absolute favorite meal. And when you looked around your kitchen was perfectly intact. Felix wrapped you up in a hug and kissed your forehead.

“Happy birthday, love.”

Seungmin:

Come outside. 

You shrugged looking at the text from your boyfriend. It wasn’t unusual for him to text you this late, but it was weird for Seungmin to send you something like this. Throwing on a sweater and slipping on some shoes you headed outside your dorm. Seungmin’s ringtone startled you as you stood alone in the dark outside.

“Minnie, what’s going on?”

“Hey, you see the JYP van?” He asked. You could hear the smile in his voice. A smile slipped onto your face when you spotted the gray van Stray Kids ride around in parked under a streetlight. 

“Yeah,” 

“Well, hurry up, dummy.”

Jogging over you were greeted by one of the JYP security guys getting out of the driver’s side door. He smiled and opened up the sliding door revealing your smiling boyfriend in the back. When the door opened he started to sing happy birthday to you, his amazing voice floating out into the empty college dorm parking lot.

When he was finished he joyfully pulled you in to sit with him in the back of the van. You laughed when the security closed the door giving you two some privacy. “So, on the way home, I picked up takeout and told the driver to drop the guys off and then bring me here.” He was too cute. He smiled when you cupped his cheeks and kissed him. 

“Thank you, Seungmin. This is the best birthday present ever.” 

Jeongin:

Hey, baby! Can you pick up some drinks for me and the boys on your way back from class? 

You smiled seeing the text from your boyfriend. Both of you had a busy schedule, him with his schedules and you with class. He had often sent you this kind of message as an excuse to see you. You thought it was really cute.

Yeah! I’ll be there in 20!

Twenty minutes later you were carrying eight drinks in two carriers up to the JYP practice room. When you entered the room was dark and you heard whispers in the back. “Um......guys? Are you in here?” Feeling around for the table near the door you set the drinks down. And there was a light switch around here somewhere.

“SURPRISE!”

You jumped hearing the eight boys scream when you turned on the lights. Turning around you saw your boyfriend’s dark hair running towards you, a big bright happy smile on his face. “Happy birthday, Y/n!” He cheered wrapping you up in a big hug.

“Jeongin, you did this all for me?” He smiled and nodded, laughing when you started peppering kisses all over his face. When you had finished he led you over to the other boys who each gave you their own version of a happy birthday wish. Jeongin got a little worried you had stopped breathing during Changbin’s bone-crushing hug. 

“Jeongin this is the best surprise party ever! Thank you so much for doing this for me!” 

Requests are open my lovelies! ALSO IM SIX DAYS FROM GRADUATING OMG

Masterlist

[captainjimothycarter]

Prompt: Peggy is sick (like, cold... nothing serious) and hates being taken care of, but Steve isn't going to let her suffer alone.

SOFT. This should be 40s AU but I suck at medical from the 40s. So hello modern, no-powers AU.

--

Peggy Carter hated, more than anything in life was to be sick. She was not a good patient, she was miserable when sick. She mostly hated when people doted after her like she was some weak, helpless person.

She wasn’t. She was just sick.

And right now, she was miserable. She couldn’t breathe out her left nostril while her right nostril wheezed every time she attempted. Her throat felt raw and aching and worst of all, she couldn’t get enough to drink. Top it off, her body was trying to decide if she should have a fever on top of all of this or not.

The knocking at her apartment door made her groan, only because dragging herself to her feet and stumbling to the door. She almost fell when it opened by itself, another groan dragging from her lips when she saw who was it.

Steve. Of course her hot, new neighbor, and landlord of the apartments. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve flinched when she almost fell, lowering the plastic bag he had in hand. “When you didn’t answer, I was just going to drop this off inside the door, I promise.”

Peggy wanted to get mad, wanted to throw a fit and demand that Steve at least tell her he was coming by or give her some warning about how he was going to invade her privacy, but then it struck her. He probably had and she’d been non the wiser with her phone currently off to avoid people from work blowing her up about a new patient.

So she couldn’t get mad even if she wanted to. 

“I didn’t think you were that type,” she mumbled, speaking out of her nose and no louder than a whisper given her situation. “To invade other’s privacy, I mean.” She could see just how awkward this 6’0, 240-pound man was, looking impossibly small somehow in her doorway.

“No, no I’m not. I grew up with landlords like that and I fuckin’ hated it.” In fact, Peggy got the impression he hated being a landlord too. His biggest passion seemed to be the pastries and sweets he brought around every Friday. 

It’s why rent was so cheap and everyone was lovely taken care of, every little need met. He normally catered to those struggling, Steve told her once when they were walking from apartment to apartment to see which one she liked. He catered to the elderly who could barely get up somedays or to the single moms and those on hard times, and especially veterans. Why the hell she was picked as a tenant, she had no idea. She was none of those things and quite frankly, she was almost afraid to ask.

“What’s in the bag?” Peggy asked, the question coming out nasally. Even Steve flinched.

“Oh, uh, chicken noodle soup courtesy of my ma. She was the blonde lady you spoke to the other day when you dropped off the rest.” Steve’s face flushed a shade of pink and shrugged his impossibly big shoulders. “She said you sounded sick and made this. Guess she was right.”

Peggy’s tongue darted out to lick her dry lips. The smell of the broth made her stomach grumble, becoming fully aware that she hadn’t eaten in forever. She could remember Steve’s ma, almost a spitting image of her with the hair and eyes, even the same freckled nose.

“Do you want to...come in?” Her head jerked and Peggy regretted that action, nearly stumbling back if it wasn’t for Steve’s arm reaching out to prevent her from making contact with the coat rack. 

“Sure.” He paused, looking her up and down. Her nose was a bright shade of red and her eyes rimmed red like she’s been rubbing at them. She curled in on herself, like trying to huddle in all her warmth. She didn’t wear her normal poised clothes, instead of pajamas and a housecoat. 

“You really are sick,” he breathed. “Jesus. How long have you been in here?”

“Three days. I hated calling out of work, but I can’t even smell, and believe it or not that’s a big part of my job.”

Steve lead her over to the couch and tucked her into the cushions, picking up a thick blanket to wrap around her. He turned the heater off and instead turned to the fireplace to get a roaring fire going. The windows were cracked to let in some fresh air. 

He paused at her description, still kneeling by the fireplace with tender in hand. “Part of your job as a veterinarian is to smell the animals?” 

His laugh made Peggy’s heart flutter. The way he laughed, he looked so carefree and warm. Like she wanted to bury herself in his chest and listen to his heart beating. “It is, if I can’t smell then I might miss a key factor as to how they’re sick. Plus, I can barely see straight.”

Steve’s tongue clicked on the roof of his mouth, nodding his head. “You do look terrible.”

“Anyone ever tells you that you suck at talking to women, Rogers?” 

Steve smiled, giving a shrug of his shoulders. “Sometimes. You stay there, I’ll get you tea and soup heated up.”

By the time he was back with a tray full of crackers, soup, and tea, Peggy was properly dozing on the couch. Setting the tray down, he knelt down by Peggy’s side and used a cool rag to press to her forehead, glad to see that she wasn’t so hot. Maybe the fever had broken.

When her beautiful eyes opened, Steve’s smile only grew. This close, Peggy could count his lashes. Oh, he had such pretty eyes, flecks of green inside of a chamber of blue.

“Hi,” she breathed, fully aware right now that she hadn’t been able to brush her teeth for two days due to gagging and the mouth wash wasn’t helping her sick breath.

“Hi,” he breathed in return, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her head. “Soups heated up. C’mon, ma’s cure-all.”

It took some maneuvering to get her to sit up, involving having to lean into Steve’s chest because all energy had escaped her. He had to feed her and Peggy wanted to be frustrated at this, but all she could think about was being pressed into his warm body and thinking how nice this was.

The soup was wonderful, even with hints of ginger and pepper burning her throat. It was a pleasant burn and almost washed away the achingness. The chicken was tender and the noodles perfectly cooked, even Peggy, whose not a snob over food, had to admit it was a wonderful meal.

Steve seemed pleased that she finished half the bowl at least before calling it quits, setting the tray aside. He seemed to get ready to get up but she leaned back into him and this close, Steve smelled that sickness that settled when someone was sweating a fever out.

“Have you showered?” He asked, attempting to be nonchalant, but going by Peggy’s snort, it was anything, but.

“Again, terrible at talking to women.” Her head leaned back and she breathed out a long, aching sigh. “And no, I haven’t been able to get myself off of this couch beyond the kitchen and the bathroom. A bath seems like too much.”

“I think it’ll do you good, so will sleep in a proper bed, not the couch. C’mon, I’ll run you a bath.” 

Before Peggy could protest about how her landlord was going to see her naked, Steve was gone. She could hear him upstairs and the sound of water running. When he came back down, his shirt soaked to the point she could see the abs through the white material.

Oh, that was a nice sight.

“Are you going to strip me?” She teased after Steve had slowly helped her up the stairs, a hand on her lower back to keep her steady after she refused to be carried. 

“I-no-but-you.” Steve was fully aware his face was flushing a bright red, feeling how warm he was.

Peggy was rewarded with the sight of his neck turning a shade of red. He was a full-body blusher then. “I was teasing. I can strip. Just...be here to help me out if I fall? I’ll call you when I’m done.”

Steve stayed outside her closed bathroom door, the floorboard creaking under his feet as he teeter tottered, listening to her heavy sigh as she laid back in the warm water. “Are you okay?” He called. 

“Yes, darling.” A pause, a splash of water. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Pegs. I’m going to go clean downstairs. Just call me if you need anything.”

Before he could do something stupid, Steve found himself rushing down the steps, shaking his head. While Peggy bathed, he took her sick blankets and pillows, airing them out after spraying them down with disinfectant. He wasn’t sure if she wanted them washed or not. He sprayed the couch down while he was at it, opening the windows more to let fresh air in.

A sweep through the kitchen and last check of the living room, Steve was satisfied that Peggy’s beautiful home wasn’t too sickly-smelling. When Peggy had called him, he was already up the stairs, a warm towel in hand.

“Here,” he called after knocking on the door, sticking the towel through the opened door. 

“Oh, it’s warm. Thank you. I’ll be out in a minute.”

When the door opened, Steve saw the bath did help some. She looked better and her face wasn’t so flushed. “How do you feel?” He asked, taking the damp towel and leading her to her already warmed bed, thanks to the heater.

“A bit better, still feel like I could sleep a week.”

“I think you should. The soup should help you feel better in no time. Here.” Tucking her in, Steve paused to gently tuck a loose lock of hair behind her head. “Do you need anything?”

Unable to help it, her lips pursed in thought. “You to stay?”

The question posed made Steve stall in mid-step, turning to look back at Peggy. He fully expected to leave and call or text her later, not ask to stay.

“Stay? With you? Sure, I can...can go downstairs?”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “No, Steven. With me. In bed. Just to...cuddle, until I fall asleep?”

There was no answer to be had because World Infamous Worst-Talker-To-Women-Ever couldn’t say no, not when Peggy was asking to cuddle her until she slept. He slowly got into bed, on top of the covers. She pulled herself in, close to his chest, and breathed him in with a heavy, exhausted sigh.

This close, fresh from a bath, she no longer smelled like sickness, but instead soft and floral and Peggy.

“Get some rest,” he breathed, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her temple. “I’m right here.”

“You better be,” she grumbled in midst of his pecs. “Or I’ll have a serious complaint to the landlord in the morning.” 

[dear-diary-where-is-my-soul]

Hey Diary,

It has been... almost a whole year? Idk. I’m here anyhow. I somehow got it into my head that when high school was over, I would somehow become magically no longer mentally ill. That didn’t happen, obviously. So here I am. I did a bit of digging and I think I have ADHD (Which I like to call dopamine deficiency) and also ASD (Which I like to call a pain in my ass). I’m just kidding, they’re both a pain in my ass. But at least I know what it’s called. I can kind of manage it now because I spent hours looking for management plans that work for both ADHD and Autism, and seeing what worked for me. I know for a fact that I have Anxiety (Of the social variant - possibly tied to autism) and depression (That I’ve had since age 12 - about 6 years). I thought I was over my anorexia but it keeps pestering in the back of my mind. I’m eating now, but it still isn’t 3 meals a day. It’s not ‘healthy’ meals but it’s better than nothing. I still think that sometimes I’m not worth the food. My boyfriend (The same boyfriend) is a really good cook. His food is so good. But neither of us can eat it.   I moved out for a short while, about 4 months. I moved in with my boyfriend, who moved in about 9 or so months before me, with his ‘dad’ (Non-bio, no longer dating [Boyfriends] mother). During those 4 months, I spent more than 1000′s dollars in savings not to mention my Centrelink payments, which only started during the second month [half of what my boyfriend was getting], to trying to keep me and my boyfriend alive. Which would’ve been way easier if I didn’t need to spend over 500 dollars in taxi fees because his dad didn’t know when to stop drinking. So, a little bit of extra kicked in the fucking balls, Before I moved in, I was told that I wouldn’t need to worry about rent until my Centrelink payments were sorted. But, when we move out, my boyfriend sold his bike and 650 of that money was given to his dad because he was keeping track of how long I didn’t pay rent for and said I owned it to him. Even Though my boyfriend offered 2/3 of my rent (Plus his own) every payday. We were both told that it was fine and that we didn’t have to worry about it.  He always complained about me being anti-social. Which was really fucking clear to begin with. I never said that I would be interacting with him more than what was comfortable. This was his main excuse for drinking. But, until I moved in he completely ignored my boyfriends attempts to be social with him.  He wasn’t my type of person. Conservative, mid 40′s, cis-het, white man with ASD and previous alcohol and drug use problems. AKA ‘There’s nothing wrong with the world you’re just to sensitive, men are men and women are women nothing will change that, except don’t move my living room around because that’s too much for me to handle’.  He used to scream at my boyfriend that he isn’t a real guy, but got upset when my boyfriend then put distance between them to not get any more hurt and depressed. I hated it. I can’t handle any loud noises or anything like that. It sends me up the wall with anxiety and I’m very easily over stimulated. Unfortunately, our roommate did not get over stimulated easily and really like heavy metal, which he would play unbearably loud until 2-3 AM on the weekends. He also nearly broke our bedroom door several times. He would scream insults at us through the door and while outside our window (which had a little undercover deck-type-thing, where he drank himself stupid).  Me and my boyfriend took a two week holiday up back to our home town, because my boyfriend was having stress-induced Seizures. He was having full-on whole-body fits every 2-3 days that lasted about 5 minutes (These have stopped since we moved out). Anyway, we got back home, being dropped off by my bf’s mum,( who has since very much mellowed out [about my boyfriend being trans] by having another kid, this kid is nearly 18 months old, has some kind of IBS [Unconfirmed as of yet, but he is in a lot of pain]). We put away the few bits of shopping we got, as we were band from touching our roommates food over a month before because he was asked not to eat ours (Not true, but he did use a full packet of our cheese [7 or 8 bucks per packet] in one meal that neither me or my boyfriend liked or could eat, which we were talking about to my boyfriends mother who mentioned it). He also said that we accused him of stealing and shit like that (We didn’t). But anyway, We make dinner because it was around 5;30 or so and we didn’t eat lunch. We put of a movie in the background and my boyfriend goes out for a cigarette on the deck-thing and when he comes back in he tells my that our roommate has been drinking but will stop soon because we’re home.  8:30 comes around, me and my bf are heading to bed with the same movie on in the background and that’s when the screaming starts. 20 whole minutes of our roommate screaming “FAGGOTS” to try to get our attention. During this time, we call my bf’s mum, who is still in town because she had a doctors appointment the next day, staying at my bf’s nans house. We then get up, grab our still-packed from our two week trip (day)bags, and wall ten minutes away to the shopping centre near-by and call a taxi.  During that night, our (ex)roommate texted my bfs mum basically saying that we are ‘kicked out’ and that he hates all of us. This isn’t the first time this has happened but it is definitely the last. We went back, the next day while he was at work, grabbed our other bags and a few of the essential items we wanted for the next week or so. Our landlord (ex-roommates mother) said that everything was fine to stay there until we could get it picked up within the next two months or so. She offered to pack it all up for us as well, which we accepted because neither of us wanted to go back to that house again.  We haven’t been there, or seen him since. My bf’s mother’s bf went with my brother to pick up all of the rest of our stuff a week after we left. We set back up in my home town, now both of us have been ripped away from our new doctors, our counsellors and my new therapist less than a week before my first appointment (which I now do via telehealth [phone/video calls]). This was about a month ago. me and my bf now have set up and pay for our internet ourselves and I got a disney+ subscription because I'm obsessed with feeling the safety I felt during childhood.  Anyway, I live with my boyfriend and his mum and her boyfriend and their 1 year old. Both of my parents live in this town but we’ve been in lock down and I haven’t been able to see them. I feel like I’m drowning because I don’t go outside. I used to walk with my boyfriend, but because he has several chronic health issues we can’t risk him going outside and he can not exercise as much as either of us would like due to chronic pains (And a busted knee which he has scans for in a fortnight or so). I’m in an online course, which was fully government subsidized due to the amount of people who need training or retraining after Covid-19. I really like it, and it is making me think more harshly about wanting to start a business. However, I don’t think I can do the assessments. Almost all of them seem to require me being social on the online group chats, and it fuels my social anxiety so much I didn’t do anything to my course for a whole month. And this whole thing was a way to help me get rid of those feelings, but I still don’t know what to do. How do I word it to the teachers? I haven’t talked to any of them before and it might seem like I just don’t want to put in the work in the social aspects of my assessments because I don’t have a diagnoses.  This sucks. I can barely sit my ass down and read through the work as it is. Then I start thinking about how I'm 1 quarter of the way through this course and haven’t brought myself to do a single assessment. Then I freak out over how much I’ve done (or haven’t done) and don’t end up doing the work. 

[mermaidcashton]

dance in the living room, love with an attitude

authors: claire (@mermaidcashton) & laura (@maluminspace)  ship/AU: michael clifford/ashton irwin, roommates AU  prompt: “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.”  wordcount: 10k+ warnings: swearing, implied & explicit sexual content  a/n: • written for @maluminspace & @h0tsos ‘s 5sos fic writers collab (in which we all chose from a list of AU’s and had the above prompt quote to include - check out the masterlist linked to see everyone elses!) • i do not give permission for this (or any of my writing) to be reposted, by anyone, on this or any other website. please don’t do it! • title from ‘only human’ by the jonas brothers dance in the living room, love with an attitude *** The music was probably turned up a little too loud, but it helped to drown out the nerves starting to bubble away in Michael’s tummy.  ‘I hope ‘Ashton’ likes MCR’ he thought as he half-heartedly wiped down the kitchen counters with a damp cloth. He wanted the place to look mildly tidier than it usually did for his new flatmate. First impressions counted for a lot, as his mum had told him twice this week already.

Once the splashes of milk from this morning’s mishap with the cereal had been washed away along with the crumbs from last night’s dinner of peanut butter on toast, he stole a quick glance at the clock on the wall over in the living room area. It wasn’t quite midday, which meant he had a little over an hour until his new roommate was due to arrive. That should mean that he just about had enough time to vacuum the whole flat and take a shower.  Throwing the dishcloth into the little cleaning basket on the window ledge, Michael focused on  screaming the lyrics to ‘Thank you for Venom’ and tried not to focus too much on the anxiety about the rest of the day.

Agreeing to live with someone he’d never met in person probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas. It’s not like Michael had been given much choice, though. His last flatmate had given him less than a week’s notice when she decided to move in with her short-term girlfriend and left Michael with a whole bunch of bills that his meagre paycheck could never stretch far enough to cover. Luckily, his best friend Luke had a work colleague who desperately needed a new place to live since his landlord had slapped him with a very short notice period to move out of his current flat. Luke had offered to give this work friend Michael’s contact details and the following morning, Michael had woken up to a text from a guy called Ashton who was very interested in Michael’s recently vacant spare room. 

After explaining the cost of rent and other bills in a few subsequent texts, Michael had received a very grateful reply from Ashton asking if it would be possible to  move in that weekend. Of course the blonde had agreed, eager to get the awkward first meeting out of the way as soon as possible.

Determined to get his most hated chore done before he could start collecting his thoughts and mentally preparing for the arrival of his new flatmate, Michael grabbed the portable hoover from the charging port on the tiny bit of the kitchen wall that was not taken up by the counters and cabinets. He was just about to press the ‘ON’ button when a knock at the door put an abrupt halt to his plans.

Michael huffed as he made his way over to the front door. The only people that had the security code for the entrance of the building were his parents and Luke, neither of which were due to visit today. That left only someone who had the wrong flat, or one other possible visitor; his neighbour, Calum. They’d hang out sometimes, whenever their days off matched up. Their shared interest in certain obscure and rare computer games and a mutual love of sushi and beer made for hours of fun without the chore of actually having to leave the building. Michael had definitely made sure to let Calum know that he was expecting his new flatmate to arrive today, though, so he was a little confused as to why his neighbour would be dropping by now. 

That feeling only intensified when a glance through the spy hole on his front door revealed that Calum was accompanied by a stranger. He opened the door cautiously, still feeling a little bewildered. 

“Hey, mate.” Calum grinned, waving a handful of unopened letters in greeting. “Just found this guy outside with a bunch of boxes. I knew you were expecting your new flatmate today, so I helped bring his stuff up.” His dark brown eyes surveyed Michael with something like confusion from beneath the rim of his seemingly ever-present black bucket hat. 

Michael could only imagine that his neighbour was mirroring his own befuddled expression because Ashton wasn’t due to arrive for another hour. He forced himself to look over at the stranger, whilst his mind worked over what was happening.

It appeared that Calum was right in assuming this was Ashton. He was indeed carrying a large cardboard box labelled ‘bedroom’ that would definitely suggest he was moving house. There were also a bunch of smaller boxes piled against the wall beside the front door which supported that assumption. 

“Do you guys need any more help?” Calum offered, “I’m free if…”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Michael cut in quickly. “We can take it from here, thanks Cal.” The last thing Michael wanted was more people to see the apartment in its current state. 

“No worries.” Calum smiled, “You know where I am if you change your mind.” He turned his attention to his little fluffy dog who had been patiently waiting for his post-walk nap. “C’mon Duke.” 

Once Calum and his little fluff ball had wandered off across the hall towards their own apartment, Michael turned his attention back to Ashton. Three things struck him about his new flatmate in very quick succession;

Ashton was incredibly hot. His curly black hair hung loosely around his handsome face, framing his chiselled cheekbones and clean shaven, angular jaw beautifully. His hazel eyes were striking from behind the horn-rimmed glasses perched neatly on his perfectly ski-slope shaped nose. 

He looked vaguely familiar. Michael knew that he’d seen Ashton’s face somewhere before but it wouldn’t quite click in his brain. Not that it would be entirely surprising if they’d met before, they did share a close friend after-all. It just seemed a little off that Luke hadn’t reminded Michael of the occasion they'd met at before suggesting they live together.

Despite his silence, Ashton looked somewhat annoyed, possibly bordering on angry. That struck Michael as odd. He had been known to piss people off fairly regularly but seeing as he’d barely even spoken to Ashton, this would be an all time record.

“So you must be Ashton…” Michael smiled, awkwardly tucking a strand of his messy blonde hair behind his ear whilst offering his free hand out for his new flatmate to shake. “I’m Michael, or you can call me Mike if you want. Most of my friends do.” Ashton didn’t accept the offer of a handshake, in fact he made no movement whatsoever. He simply glared at Michael with an increasing level of irritation. “Are you kidding me?” 

Michael knew that he was not the prettiest of people. He dressed casually most of the time and due to Ashton’s early appearance, he’d not yet had a chance to shower and make himself a little more presentable. He didn’t think that he quite deserved such a cutting greeting, though. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you yet, I was just…”

“You don’t even remember me, do you?!” Ashton interrupted, his tone dripping of resentment now. “Fucking unbelievable!”  Michael couldn’t remember ever feeling more confused in his life. Ashton hadn’t mentioned that  they’d previously met in his text messages so why would he be so angry that Michael hadn’t immediately recognised him now? 

The newcomer’s harsh tone had caught Calum’s attention, causing the neighbour to pause in sorting through his mail and stare unashamedly at the scene unfolding across the hall.

“This could only fucking happen to me…” Ashton huffed, adjusting his grip on the box in his arms. “I get turfed out of my flat because my landlord suddenly decides he wants it for his daughter and just when I think I’ve landed on my feet with a new place, my new fucking flatmate turns out to be a one night stand who doesn’t even remember me! Talk about kicking a guy when he’s down!”

Michael barely registered Calum’s audible gasp as realisation crashed around him. Suddenly the memory of the beautiful man that had swept Michael off his feet at a bar a few months back replayed in his head like a movie he’d seen once but hadn’t been able to remember the title of. He’d only known the guy as Ash and he’d assumed it was short for Ashley. Despite the fact that Ash’s hair had been a sexy shade of crimson, styled in a neat quiff and he hadn’t been wearing glasses, it was definitely the same guy that was standing in front of him right now. 

“Ash…” the word escaped Michael almost of it’s own volition. “But I thought that was short for… oh my god, this can’t be happening.” He cupped his own face in his hands as the reality of the awkward situation began to settle into the very fibre of his being.

“Wow, you can’t make this shit up.” Calum gasped, an almost delighted smile on his face. “What’re you guys gonna do?” 

Despite Calum’s annoying rubbernecking, it gave Michael the perfect excuse to look away from Ashton for a second. “Well I’m gonna throw something at you, if you don’t get lost right now, Calum.” He hissed. 

“He’s not the one coming across like a shithead right now.” Ashton scoffed, setting the box in his arms onto the floor. “Being a nosey neighbour still makes you a hell of a better person than the guy that flatters their way into your bed and gives you amazing sex but then gives you a fake number!”

“That’s right.” Calum agreed. “People that do that are the worst. At least have the balls to tell the other person you’re not looking for anything long term before you disappear the next day.”

“Calum, I swear to god…” Michael hissed. 

Ashton shook his head angrily. “He’s right, if you never wanted to see me again, you could have just said. I wouldn’t have wasted some of my best moves on you.” 

“Oh, what were the moves?” Calum smirked, prying his way further into the conversation. 

His neighbour’s blatant disregard for the seriousness of the situation was annoying to say the least. It was also the last thing Michael needed to deal with right now. “Piss off, Calum!”, he snapped. 

Duke yapped disapprovingly at Michael, his tiny eyes focused on the blonde man as his human’s smirk grew even further across his face.

“Oh, you can shut up as well!” Michael snapped at the tiny pooch. “Now you’re yelling at a dog.” Ashton rolled his eyes. “Maybe it’s a good thing you blew me off, looks like I had a lucky escape from dating an arsehole!”  Michael really couldn’t envisage the situation getting any worse. At this rate he was going to be searching for another roommate instead of enjoying a pleasant lunch with this one, like he’d hoped. 

“I didn’t give you a fake number!” Michael protested. “I swear, I’m not like that, and I really liked you! I broke my phone, the same weekend we...met.” He felt his cheeks begin to colour, trying his hardest to ignore Calum’s snort as he focused on Ashton’s disbelieving face.

“It took me two weeks to sort out a new one, I had a little pay as you go in between, I had a different number, and I-you did call, then?” Michael paused his blurted explanations to blurt out a question, instead. He had been wondering every time it was late and he was alone for 6 months whether or not he’d missed a call from the best one night stand of his life. 

“Of course I did!” Ashton threw his hands up in exasperation, startling Duke and sending him scuttling back into the still-open doorway of the opposite flat. “I thought we had a connection, we said we wanted to see each other again; that doesn’t happen that often for me! Maybe it does for you…”

“Oh, it definitely doesn’t.” Calum smirked. “The only man who comes to see Michael regularly is the Domino’s delivery guy.” 

Before Michael could blow up at him, Calum backed up properly into his flat, resting his hand on his front door. “It’s a shame, actually,” he continued, smiling encouragingly at his neighbour. “Michael is really a great guy. He always has time for me and Duke; whether it’s for beers, a listening ear, or belly rubs.” 

He throws a wink to Ashton as he shuts his front door with a click. “I’ll leave you to figure out which one is for me. Welcome to the building!” 

Michael knows he needs to gain control of the slightly-stunned silence left in Calum’s wake, fast. He needs to say something apologetic, or charming, or cool. “Do you like fish fingers?” Or that. 

Ashton blinked a few times in quick succession, and Michael wanted to throw himself down the stairs. 

“Do I like fish fingers?” Ashton repeated, pushing his long black hair back with both hands.

Michael flushed again, at least thankful for the fact that he no longer had an audience for the most embarrassing encounter of his life. “It’s just, I thought we could have lunch, and talk, and I’m not really much of a cook, but I have fish fingers, right, and everyone likes fish finger sandwiches...don’t they…” He trailed off, hoping Luke perhaps had another co-worker who needed immediate accommodation. 

Ashton fixed him with the most intense stare he’d ever received in a conversation about freezer food, and Michael tried to match his unrelenting gaze in a way that would make him look less like he wanted to cry. Ashton’s eyes really were beautiful, seeming almost magnified by his glasses. He looked thoughtful and sad now, rather than judgmental and angry, and Michael would take that.

“I do.” Ashton decided on, after what felt like an eternity. He stooped down to pick up his box again, muscles tensing, and Michael’s mind began to wander. 

He remembered Ashton’s arms looking just like that as he lifted him up for the last few feet of the journey to the redhead-at-the-time’s bed. Michael could almost feel his fingers digging into the bare skin of his thighs all over again. The memories of slow, wet, considered neck kisses being broken with teeth, and the delicious burn that started low and spread like wildfire as Ashton stretched him out like he was born to do it.

“Michael? After you?”  Michael snapped out of his daze, dragging his eyes away from Ashton’s lips where they had landed at some point in his reminiscing. He stepped back so Ashton could enter the flat and set the box down by the sofa. “Yeah, great, come in, make yourself at home, I’ll get the rest of your boxes!”   As soon as he was outside in the corridor, Michael let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. ‘Okay, Clifford - you need to snap out of it. Relax and smooth things over so you two can live together.’ He told himself, as sternly as he could manage. ‘We need a roommate more than we need to get laid.’

‘That’s debatable.’ Another voice - which sounded more like Calum than himself - chimed in before Michael shook it off and picked up the stack of cardboard boxes cluttering up the corridor.

‘Okay, you can do this. Damage control. Just be normal. Go in and face this head on. You can do this.’ Michael murmured, running his tongue over his bitten lips as he took his first steps back to where Ashton was waiting.

He hip-checked the front door closed as he re-entered the flat, placing the boxes next to one Ashton had carried in, before straightening up to see Ashton sat on the sofa, looking both nervous and delicious. 

“I…” Michael faltered under Ashton’s almost shy gaze, then caught sight of a slice of Ashton’s firm, hairy stomach from where his t-shirt was riding up slightly.

“I just need to go to the bathroom. Then we can...talk, and eat. Okay?” Michael forced what he hoped was a casual, winning smile, and then scuttled across to the bathroom the moment Ashton made a noise of agreement and nodded his head.

Michael clicked the lock shut and put the toilet lid down as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. He began tapping away with urgency as he took a seat on the toilet, pulling up his message thread with his best friend.

SOS!!!! 🚨

Luke!!!!

Where are you

LUKE FUCK HELP ME YOU DICK

With each message he sent, Michael could feel his panic beginning to swell back up in his chest. Finally, three dots began moving across the message to indicate Luke was writing. Help was on the way.

🥺🥺🥺 What’s up

Michael felt what he knew was an unjustified rage at Luke and his fucking emojis as he furiously typed a reply.

Oh nothing, I just had sex with my new roomate!!!

Michael jumped when his phone immediately started vibrating relentlessly, sliding his finger across the screen and holding it gingerly to his ear. 

“Hello?” He whispered into the receiver. 

“WHAT!!! What do you mean you’ve slept with him?! Ashton was due there at 12, and it’s now...12 minutes past 12! That’s INSANE, even for you! I cannot believe-”

“Luke!” Michael hissed through clenched teeth, turning on the cold tap on the sink before he spoke again. “Not today, idiot! Remember, months ago, when I broke my phone? That weekend, I hooked up with that guy I met at The Alchemist? Red hair, big arms, amazing mouth-”

“Yes, I remember! What’s that got to do with it?” Luke cut in. 

“It was Ashton. I only knew him as Ash, remember? And obviously I never saw him again because I had no way to contact him after I broke my phone. But it’s him, Luke - he’s in my living room! In OUR living room! What am I gonna do?! I am freaking out!”

“Oh my God! You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Mike! You’ve had your new roommates dick in your mouth before he even moved in! Classic you.”

Michael could practically hear Luke’s eyeroll. “This is not classic me! Dick! Help me, Luke!”

“What do you want me to do, I can’t unfuck him for you!” Luke shot back. Michael let out an involuntary whimper and slumped further down on the toilet. He was so screwed.  

***

Michael emerged from the bathroom, Luke’s advice ringing in his ears as he approached Ashton on the sofa.  ‘He’s a really nice guy, Mike; just talk to him. Explain what happened after you hooked up, and say you hope you can put it behind you and be friends. I think he’ll be cool, honestly. Just try not to trip and land on his dick and you should be golden.’ 

He took one last deep breath as he sat down on the black leather beside his one-time lover.

“So, Ashton...I...listen, I’m sorry that I broke my phone and made you think I’d ghosted you. I’m just an idiot that dropped his phone outside Sainsbury’s. And I’m really sorry I didn’t recognise you straight away, I was just expecting someone I hadn’t, and your hair, and glasses, and-” Michael could feel himself starting to babble but he couldn’t stop himself; he was so desperate for Ashton to like him. He was trying not to think about why it was this important to him. 

Ashton held his hand up to stop him with a small smile. “Michael, it’s okay.”  

Michael stopped short in his unravelling with a look of surprise. “It is?”

Ashton’s smile grew wider. “Yeah. I was just a bit blindsided, and I was hurt at the time back then, you know? But you explained, you apologised, and you seem like a nice guy. Luke sure can’t talk you up enough, and I trust him. I have no reason not to believe this is gonna be all good.” 

Michael blinked, unsure if this was too good to be true. “Yeah? So...we’re good? You’re gonna...stay?”

Ashton relaxed back into his seat, toeing his shoes off and under the coffee table. “If that’s okay with you, yeah. We’re both grown ups; we can keep it platonic and put the past behind us, right? Friends?”

Michael nodded, trying to hide the gulp in his throat. “Yeah, of course. Right. Great. Friends.” He could definitely do this.

***

He could definitely not do this. 

It’d been a long one month, two weeks and three days of trying to convince himself that he didn’t want to be anything more than Ashton’s friend and roommate. 

Some days, Michael thought it was possible to put those lingering feelings away and focus on their blossoming platonic relationship. After all, Ashton was everything most people could ever want in a flatmate. He was tidy, considerate, fairly quiet and respectful of personal boundaries. The slightly older man was also great company. Michael has had many pleasant conversations with him over breakfast and in the evenings before they went to bed. 

As lovely as all of that was, Michael had started questioning if it was worth the growing ache in chest for more. Each new thing he learnt about Ashton made him more sure that he was probably the closest thing to the perfect man that Michael would ever know. It was a cruel twist of fate that had meant his one opportunity to have Ashton for himself had slipped through his fingers, quite literally. He cursed himself on a daily basis for that one clumsy moment when he’d fumbled pulling his old phone from his too-tight jeans outside the supermarket and had been forced to watch his only chance with Ashton sink into a muddy puddle. 

Whatever higher powers existed had been even less kind to have that strong, gorgeous, well-hung man turn up on Michael’s doorstep months later, as his only hope of being able to keep the flat he’d grown to love. 

Every day since then, seemed to have presented a new challenge or torture. First it was the tight t-shirts and vests Ashton wore more often than not. They accentuated every muscle of the raven-haired man’s torso and displayed his strong biceps in all their glory. 

Then came the sleepy morning routine they’d subconsciously fallen into. Ashton would emerge from his room in nothing but his loose grey sweats and crooked glasses, his hair ruffled and his eyes heavily lidded, before joining Michael for a hasty breakfast which usually consisted of cereal or toast and mug of strong coffee. It was during these sluggish mornings when they’d started to bond over their mutual love of crime dramas and fantasy movies, among other things. That had naturally led to evening-long Criminal Minds marathons whole weekends debating whether the Lord of the Rings movies or the Harry Potter movies were the better adaptations of their original books. Those playful arguments had spilled over into text messages now, so Michael couldn’t even escape his torturous living situation when he went to work. 

Despite all of that hardship, the most latest and arguably the toughest challenge Michael found himself facing, was Ashton’s morning yoga. At first, the older man had kept that part of his morning routine confined to his bedroom. For some reason or another, over the last week or so, Ashton had decided that the living area was a more suitable location for this activity. 

If Michael thought that sleepy, shirtless morning Ashton was hot, then sleepy, shirtless morning Ashton doing the ‘downward dog’ was positively off the fucking scale. The way his large hands pressed into the yoga mat and the way his strong arms and legs tensed as he straightened his back and pushed his arse up into the air lingered in Michael’s mind all day. These images often flickered through his mind at night too, when he was alone in his bed with nothing but his hand for company. 

Deciding that a little get together with some friends would help dispel some of the tension, Michael floats the idea of asking Calum and Luke over for a ‘lads night’. Ashton had agreed easily, being a generally social person, he’d seemed enthusiastic about the possibility of hosting a mini party. 

A group message is created and it doesn’t take long to settle on the following Friday night for beer, snacks and a FIFA tournament. 

Ashton seemed to have been looking forward to it, often mentioning how excited he was to get to know Calum better and asking Michael to help him decide between certain snacks to purchase for the occasion. 

All in all, Michael was proud of himself for the idea, focusing on hosting a couple of friends had certainly given both him and Ashton something new to focus on. 

It was only when Friday arrived that Michael started to doubt his plan. Watching Ashton arrange plates of snacks on the kitchen counter, with the cutest concentration face he’d ever seen, started to make Michael wish they were spending the evening alone instead. He quickly pushes the thought of his head, berating himself for thinking something so stupid. It’s not like anything could happen between them even if they were alone, they were roommates now, that’s where their relationship ends. 

“So....” Ashton broke the silence enveloping the flat as he finished pouring a bag of cheesy Doritos into a bowl. “Did you finally solve the mystery of who was stealing people’s shit from your fridge at work?” 

Michael was caught off guard by the question. He’d been watching Ashton so intently that he momentarily forgot about everything else. It took him a moment to remember that he’d been keeping Ashton up to date with the ongoing lunch burglar drama at the DIY store he worked at. “Oh, umm no, not yet! But Brenda finally told Linda to stick her fake friendship where the sun doesn’t shine.” 

A genuinely delighted smile burst into Ashton’s face as he headed into the living room area. “Good for her! Linda sounds like a bitch…” 

It really meant a lot to Michael that Ashton took such an interest in his work life. The fact that he cared so much about people he didn’t know, but was aware they meant a lot to Michael, was also heartwarming. 

Before Michael could go into more detail about the break time drama, a knock at the front door interrupted him. “Oh yay! Our first guest!” Ashton beamed, jogging off towards the front door to greet Calum.

***

As soon as the beer and wine had started flowing, Michael’s ever-present pining for Ashton dulled to an almost non existent haze at the edges of his mind. Sure, his knees felt weak every time Ashton flashes him that dopey smile of his and he might have blushed whenever their knees touched as they competed against each other in a thrilling game of virtual soccer. 

That was all better than his usual all-consuming lust, so Michael was somewhat proud of himself. He even managed to surprise the urge to let Ashton win their game, and was almost smug when his player sent the football flying past Ashton’s keeper to secure a 2-1 win. 

“Motherfucker!” Ashton grumbled, throwing his control pad into the sofa as he fixed Michael with look that was almost definitely the hottest gaze he’d ever been caught under. “I’m gonna get you for that, Clifford.” It sounded like a promise that held more weight than the simple challenge to a rematch it was probably meant to be. 

Michael had to fight back a whimper, staring into Ashton’s beautiful hazel eyes this closely was too much. The intensity of it all rendered him momentarily speechless and he was all-too glad when Ashton got to his feet and headed for the kitchen. 

“I need to drown my sorrows.” The black-haired man laughed, breaking the tension that had descended on them before heading off to the kitchen. Ignoring the knowing looks from his two friends, Michael picked up Ashton’s discarded controller and tossed it to Luke. “Your turn to face me, Hemmings. Let’s see if I can beat my all time record of beating you 6-1” 

“Fuck off! You have never beat me that badly.” Luke huffed, picking up the control pad that had just landed in his lap. “I’m gonna enjoy kicking your ass in front of your new boy-“

“Shit, we’re out of beers already!” Ashton’s interruption came at exactly the right moment in Michael’s opinion. He really hadn’t wanted Luke to finish that sentence and now he wouldn’t get the chance. 

“I’ll go to the shop for some more, does anyone have specific requests?” The eldest friend asked as he traipsed back into the living room area. 

“Oh you don’t have to go!” Michael shrugged, “you should stay here, we’ll send Luke instead, he sucks at this game anyway.” 

Luke scoffed, waving his hand defensively. “You’re not getting out of playing me that easily!” 

Ashton laughed, his eyes sparkling as he checked that his wallet was still in his jeans pocket. “It’s fine. I’m already out of the competition and I wouldn’t want to give anyone else an unfair advantage.” 

Maybe it was just the effects of the beers he’d already drank, but Michael could have sworn that Ashton’s gaze lingered on him a little longer than it probably should have. “You’re too nice.” The blonde beamed fondly, “I’ll transfer you my half of the money in the morning, unless you wanna take a tenner from my room?” 

“Oh is that an open invitation?” Calum asked, a lazy smile curling the corners of his lips. “You owe me at least that from when we bet on whether or not Luke could drink that tzatziki sauce last time.” 

“Fuck off, Calum! I don’t owe you a penny, I won that bet, Luke’s a fucking wuss…” 

“Hey! I am not!” Luke interrupted incredulously. 

“Okay, I need to hear that whole story when I get back!” Ashton giggled. “I’ll just grab a case of whatever beer is the cheapest though, yeah.” 

There was a general murder of agreement before Ashton headed out of the front door. Michael fond him watching until Ashton had disappeared into the hallway, swinging the front door closed behind him. “He’s so nice…” The blonde sighed dreamily, still gazing at the closed front door. “Don’t you think he’s just the best?” 

Calum and Luke exchanged a ‘is he for real’ glance before silently agreeing that this was the perfect opportunity to tease Michael about his blatant love for Ashton. 

“Yeah, he’s pretty special.” Calum agreed, smirking slyly. “You really can’t sing his praises highly enough, can you?” 

Shaking his head, Michael finally returned his attention to the TV. “You really can’t, he’s just so kind and sweet.” 

Calum nodded in agreement. “Not bad to look at either!” 

“Right?!” Michael giggled, oblivious to the fact that his tipsiness was making his lips too loose.  

“Hey Mike.” Luke cut in, reaching over to nudge his friend’s shoulder. “How’s being in love with your flatmate working out for you?” His conversational tone was entirely at odds with mischief in his eyes. It confused Michael but the youngest friend’s words were altogether too bold, a blatant overstep if ever there was one. 

Despite his inner rage at being called out like this, Michael fumbled, unable to cobble together an appropriate response. “Ugh, I don’t even… You’re so far-“ 

“There’s no point denying it anymore.” Calum chuckled, “I can feel the sexual tension between you two from across the hall!” 

“God, I bet it’s like watching a car crash, isn’t it?” Luke asked, picking up the bowl of M&M’s on the coffee table. “It’s horrific but you can’t tear your eyes away? Am I right?” 

Calum nodded. “It’s like watching a bad fucking soap opera.” 

Michael felt offended and embarrassed but still no words seemed to form coherently in his mouth. 

“At least it’s a bit less tragic now we can be sure it’s not entirely one sided!” Luke stage whispered with a calculating look on his face as he met Calum’s gaze.

“Yeah, it’s mildly less irritating!” Calum laughed. 

“Wait, what do you mean?” Michael sputtered. “Ash and I agreed that our one night stand is ancient history, we’re not-“ 

“Oh puh-lease!” Calum scoffed. “If you two haven’t fucked again by the end of this month I’ll eat my bucket hat.”

***

Ashton had returned with a case of twenty four bottles of beer and as a result, lad’s night had ended up running into the early hours of Saturday morning. 

Having drank his way through more than his fair share of that case, Michael didn’t end up rising from his pit until noon had long since been and gone. 

“Ah you are still alive!” Ashton chuckled, tearing his attention away from the TV to look at his flatmate. 

This was definitely not fucking fair. Michael didn’t need to look in a mirror to know that he looked exactly as he felt - rough as all hell. Ashton on the other hand, still looked as dreamy as ever. His black curls, although slightly ruffled and fluffy, were still on the stylish side of messy and he’d somehow found the motivation to get dressed, too, something Michael wasn’t even contemplating.

 “I’m glad you’re up now, though, I wondered if you had anything planned for dinner?” Ashton asked, peering at Michael from behind his horn-rimmed glasses. 

The thought of food made Michael’s stomach lurch unpleasantly and he had to fight to hold back a wretch. 

Ashton gives a sympathetic giggle before pausing his show and rising to his feet. “I’ll take that as a no. Don’t worry, buddy. I have a plan but first…” he jogged over to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. “Why don't you go and take a shower while I make you a tea? You’ll feel better after that and then we will talk dinner!” 

As Michael plods over to the bathroom, he shoots one last look over at Ashton, busily preparing mugs on the countertop and tries his absolute hardest to remember a time that he wasn’t in love with his flatmate.

***

As always, Ashton was proven to be 100% correct. 

Michael felt a million times better once he was showered and snuggled on the sofa with a mug of steaming tea. 

“You look a little more alive now.” Ashton smirked, sparing Michael a sideways glance before returning his attention to ‘Law and Order’. “Do you think you can handle talking about dinner yet?” 

The ache in Michael’s stomach felt a lot more like hunger than it had done when he first woke up and the thought of food didn’t make him feel like throwing up anymore so he nodded. “What’re your plans, chef?” 

Ashton’s cheeks turned a rosy pink as he shrugged. “I couldn’t bear to see you try to cobble together another freezer meal so I thought you might like me to teach you a simple pasta dish?” He suggested, his tone a little shy like he was worried what Michael’s reaction would be. “I’ll do most of the work, but I thought if you helped out, you’ll learn how to make something other than Super Noodles.” 

Michael couldn’t even be mad at the subtle dig at his cooking skills. He was terrible in the kitchen and it was just a little embarrassing that Ashton had noticed just how dyer his cooking skills were. “When you say simple, do you mean like a recipe and technique you can write on the back of a postage stamp because that’s about the level of my skill.” 

Rolling his eyes, Ashton casually threw his arm around Michael’s shoulders. “Don't be so hard in yourself, buddy! I once taught Luke how to make scrambled eggs on the stove so he didn’t have to be a savage and use the microwave anymore, so there’s definitely hole for you, I promise.” 

Michael tried to focus on the hat Ashton was saying but all that his slow, hungover brain could process was that he was pressed against his stupidly gorgeous flat mate’s side. The heady smell of Ashton’s minty body wash and the soft scent of his fabric conditioner felt intoxicating and Michael could do nothing besides allow his head to drop into Ashton’s shoulder. 

To the blonde’s surprise, Ashton shuffle away or call him out on it. He simply rests his own head on Michael’s and laughs. “We’ll make a chef of you yet, Clifford.” He promised.

***

They spent a good three hours, watching reruns of C.S.I and making plans to start a Marvel movie marathon after dinner. They sat close to each other the whole time and Michael noticed Ashton watching him from the corner of his eye on at least three separate occasions. 

By the time Ashton suggested they start making dinner, Michael had gone over his conversation with Calum and Luke the previous night, about sixty times. His two best friends had convinced him that Ashton wanted Michael just as much as Michael wanted Ashton. 

“The way he looks at you, dude.” Calum laughed. “He’s practically imagining you naked at any given moment. It’s getting uncomfortable.” 

“Don’t be stupid!” Michael reprimanded. “He doesn’t think of me like that anymore. We had a one night thing months ago. That’s it. Nothing else will ever happen between us again, we’re just flatmates.” 

Calum and Luke exchanged a sceptical glance before bursting into laughter. 

“Yeah right!” Luke huffed sarcastically. “Do you know how many times I hear your name come out of his mouth at work these days?” 

Michael’s cheeks reddened. He had no idea that Ashton talked about him at work. It felt kind of surreal to imagine his roommate relaying snippets of their home life to Luke. 

“Let me guess!” Calum interrupted. “About a thousand…” 

Nodding, Luke drained the last of his beer. “Yeah and that’s just before lunch!”

“Honestly, if they don’t bang soon I’m gonna knock their heads together.” Calum sighed. “Did you know Michael comes over to my place most mornings so he doesn’t have to watch Ashton do topless yoga?” He asked Luke disbelievingly. “I want my lie-in’s back!” 

At the time, Michael hadn’t believed his friends. He didn’t think that there was even a remote possibility that Ashton still carried a torch for him. But in the clear light of day, Michael couldn’t deny that all the signs were there… perhaps there could be more between them after all. 

He followed Ashton into the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of his grey oversized sweater, trying to clear his mind enough to be able to process learning a new skill. 

“Okay, this is like the simplest recipe I know but it’s delicious and tastes so much better than the freezer junk you usually make for yourself.” Ashton rambles as he grabs a saucepan and a frying pan from the shelf near the cooker.  

“Hey, freezer junk has been my lifeline on many occasions, I’d probably be dead without it.” Michael scoffed, only half joking. 

Ashton rolled his eyes fondly, handing Michael the saucepan. “Fill this with water for me and then put it on the back hob, while it’s boiling I’ll teach you how to make the sauce.” 

As Michael carried out his instructions, he couldn’t help but admire the concentration on Ashton’s face when he began rifling through the fridge and cupboard, pulling out various ingredients. 

Once the pan of water was safely on the job Ashton had indicated, Michael returned his full attention to the slightly older man.

“Right, the first thing we do for the sauce is put 2-3 tablespoons of olive oil into this cold pan.” Ashton explained, pushing his glasses up his nose a little, reminding Michael of a hot English teacher or something… fuck, it was already difficult enough for Michael to concentrate without random fantasies about Ashton fucking him over a desk running through his mind. “Usually I’d never add oil to a cold pan, but for this particular recipe, it works because if the pan was already hot, the first ingredients would burn before the rest was in there.” 

There was something about the way Ashton talked with such passion and confidence that made Michael wish he was confident enough to just drag him to the bedroom, his need for more from Ashton becoming unbearable. He forced himself to nod, pretending like he understood when really, Ashton could be telling him absolutely anything right now, and Michael would not know the difference because all he can think about is the way Ashton had groaned at the feeling of Michael’s nails running down his back and how he’d growled Michael’s name as he neared his climax. 

“Can you pass me the basil?” Ashton asked, pulling Michael out of his memory. 

The blonde surveyed the ingredients on the countertop. Luckily he recognised most of them, so he picked up the basil by process of elimination and handed it to Ashton like a dutiful sous chef. 

Ashton looked mildly impressed as he took the bag of basil and took out handful. “We want about ten or so decent sized leaves and we tear them in half before adding them to the oil, okay?” He waited for Michael’s nod of understanding before tearing the leaves in his hand and dropping them into the pan. 

“Then we need to chop 6-8 cloves of garlic directly into the pan.” Michael looked back at the little stack of ingredients and frowned, noticing an instant problem. “We only have one clove of garlic…” he pointed out, biting his bottom lip worriedly. 

Ashton burst out laughing as he picked the garlic up from the counter. “This is a whole bulb, babe…” he explained, apparently not even noticing his use of the supposedly accidental pet name. 

It was difficult for Michael to feel too offended by Ashton’s laughter when he’d just called him babe, though, so he let it go, focusing on the term of endearment, no matter how accidental it might have been, rather than the humour at his dumb mistake. 

“It’s the smaller, wedge shaped pieces that are cloves, please don’t mix that up if you make this without my help.” Ashton chuckled, breaking six cloves from the bulb and picking up a tiny knife he’d laid out next to the oven. 

“Don’t laugh at me!” Michael pouted. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.” 

Ashton gave him a fond smile. “You’re not alone in that, I promise…” 

It was hard not to feel comforted by Ashton’s lopsided smile, so most of his embarrassment slipped away fairly quickly. 

“I just chop off the little hard parts at the bottom of each clove and peel the skin off before chopping it directly into the pan. Don’t chop it on a board or you’ll lose some of the flavour.” Ashton explained carefully. 

Michael watched with interest as Ashton demonstrated his technique with the first two cloves. He handed the third to Michael along with the knife and gestures for him to add it to the pan. 

It took him probably three times longer to chop that one clove into the pan, than it took Ashton to do the first two, but he was encouraging and patient. The older man praised Michael for completing the tiny task, seeming genuinely impressed.

Once all six cloves of garlic had been added to the pan, Ashton turned on the hob into a medium heat. “Okay, so we stir this together for about five minutes. Can you do that while I open the tin of tomatoes?” 

Michael nodded, picking up the wooden spoon from the counter and storing the simmering ingredients together. It already kinda smelt like his favourite Italian restaurant and his tummy grumbled impatiently. 

“One thing I should specify is, you need to use tins of whole tomatoes, not chopped.” Ashton explained as he poured the first tin of tomatoes into the sizzling pan. “Can you pour in the second one?” 

Michael did as he was told and watched as Ashton squished the whole tomatoes down and stored them into the red eat of the ingredients. 

“Mmm it smells so good.” Michael sighed, breathing in the delicious smells. 

Ashton looked proud of himself as he offered a smile. “Can you take over the stirring while I add the salt?” 

Michael took the spoon from Ashton, ensuring that their fingers brushed. 

There was a moment of eye contact and a silent shifting of tension between the two of them. If ever there was a time to bite the bullet and kiss Ashton, now would be it. His nerves failed him though and he dropped his gaze to the simmering pan. 

Instead of moving around Michael to pick up the salt as he’d done for the tomatoes, Ashton simply reached past the blonde, pushing him against the counter momentarily before he pulled back to add the salt to the pan. 

If Michael had been fully alert, he’d have recognised that for the flirtatious move it was meant to be, as it was, he put it down to a simple lack of judgement on Ashton’s part and continued to concentrate on stirring the sauce.

***

The tomato pasta tasted as good as it had smelt. It turned out to be exactly what Michael’s hungover body had needed. 

He and Ashton had eaten it at their little table in the kitchen. Conversation had flowed freely as always, skirting around flirtatious at times but never quite enough for Michael to pluck up the courage to take things further. 

“The only thing that would have made that better would have been a nice glass of white wine, but I thought you were still a bit too delicate for that.” Ashton giggled as he picked up the empty plates from the table and carried them over to the kitchen sink. 

“Hey, you drank as much as I did!” Michael pouted, picking up the empty glasses and following Ashton to the sink. “How’re you not hungover.” 

Ashton chuckled as he ran the water into the washing up bowl. “You’re just a lightweight, Mikey.” 

It wasn’t the first time Michael had been called that so it didn’t take him by surprise. He laughed it off as he grabbed a tea cloth ready to dry the dishes that Ashton washed. “One day you’ll stop teasing me, Irwin.” 

Ashton shook his head. “Don’t count on it, babe… you’re too easy to make fun of, that’s not my fault.” 

There it was again, that little slip, a fond nickname that roommates probably shouldn’t have for one another. 

Quickly pulling himself together, Michael nudged his flatmate in the arm, just hard enough to pull a surprised “oof” from him. 

“Careful now.” Ashton warned jokingly. “You don’t want to start a scuffle you can’t finish, Clifford.” 

Michael threw caution to the wind and nudged Ashton again, deliberately keeping his gaze on the plate he was drying. 

“That’s it!” Ashton huffed, scooping up a handful of bubbles and swiping them across Michael’s face. 

The blonde spluttered and shook his damp fringe out of his face before fixing Ashton with a glare. A few acts of retaliation flashed through his mind. He could have whipped Ashton with the tea cloth or splashed him with dishwater but none of that happened. 

There was something about the way Ashton’s eyes were sparkling, almost like he was daring Michael to do the thing he’d been too scared to do this whole time. He refused to let another opportunity pass like before when they were making the pasta sauce. Michael tried not to overthink as he stepped forward and cupped Ashton’s face with one hand before leaning in and kissing him. 

The raven-haired man’s lips felt every bit as soft as they had done on that night seven months ago. Ashton didn’t kiss back with the same hunger and desperation that he had done back then, though. 

Michael stepped back, feeling his cheeks heat up in an embarrassed blush. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, Ash…” 

Ashton bit his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared at Michael intently. “No…” He said, finally breaking his silence. “You just shouldn’t have waited so long.” 

The older man’s words had barely penetrated Michael’s brain before he was being  pressed against the counter behind him. Ashton’s lips were on his again but this time they were working just like they had been that night at Ashton’s old place. 

The intense kiss pulled a whine from Michael and he automatically wrapped his arms around the older man’s neck. 

It started as a fairly simple kiss but it quickly began to build momentum. It was the crack in the dam holding back all of their emotions for all this time. 

“Ashton…” Michael gasped as they pulled apart for air. “I know we said we should just be friends but…” 

“Fuck being just friends.” Ashton mumbled as he worked kisses down Michael's neck. “I can’t pretend anymore.” 

Those words were all Michael needed to hear in order to relax into this. “I can’t tell you how bad I’ve wanted this.” He whispered. 

Ashton slipped one of his thighs between Michael’s as he nipped at the blonde’s neck. “I think I have some idea.” He groaned. “I never stopped thinking of the way you moaned my name that night, Michael.” The older man confessed, pulling back just enough to look Michael in the eye. “Wanted it again since the moment I walked in here.” 

The way Ashton was looking at him like he wanted to devour every inch of Michael, had the blonde melting. “Me too.” He crashed his lips against Ashton’s in another desperate kiss as he subconsciously rutted against the older man’s thigh. After the months Michael had spent feeling kind of lonely and touch-starved, the tiny amount of friction was enough to have him whimpering against Ashton’s lips. 

“Uh, you sound and taste even better than I remember.” Ashton muttered, pressing his thigh harder against Michael’s crotch to pull another little gasp from him. 

“Ashton! Fuck, please, I…” Michael’s head tipped back as he lost his fight to regain any sort of control over his own body. He was in Ashton’s control now, and Ashton knew it.  

“Come on…” Ashton coaxed, stepping back from Michael as he took both of his hands in his to pull him away from the kitchen counter. Michael whined high in his throat as he easily followed where Ashton led. 

Michael had hardly been into Ashton’s bedroom since he had helped him move some furniture the day he moved in; it had almost felt too intimate to go into Ashton’s personal space given the history between them. Seeing it now, cozy and dark with slithers of light coming through the window from the lamp posts outside, gave Michael a chill; it felt like Ashton was sharing a secret with him.

He followed Ashton’s lead dutifully all the way to the bed, accepting the deep kiss Ashton offered him as a reward, before the older man peeled his oversized sweater from his torso, breaking away to pull it over Michael’s head. Michael wanted more contact, but was disappointed when Ashton gently but decisively laid him down among the crisp sheets, instead. 

Ashton pulled his own t-shirt over his head in one fluid motion and flicked the lamp on his bedside table on, bathing the bed in a warm glow that made Michael feel like he was in a dream. 

Michael gazed in wonder at Ashton as he climbed into bed beside him, letting his eyes travel all over his arms and chest, taking in the extra tone and definition in his body since the last time he’d been able to stare at him like this; clearly, the yoga was doing more than just allowing Ashton to ‘find his centre’. 

He didn’t think he was anything special to look at, but he could see Ashton mirroring his own actions, eyes full of lust searching all over the parts of Michael’s body he could see, and even his gaze lingering on a part he couldn’t.

 “Ash,” Michael breathed out, surprising himself with how far gone he sounded already. “Take ‘em off, I wanna…” He trailed off as Ashton’s eyes snapped up to meet his own, holding eye contact for only a moment before he nodded almost imperceptibly, shuffling down the bed and taking hold of the waistband of Michael’s sweatpants. He returned his gaze to the pale man before him, biting his own lip as he allowed his fingertips to graze the skin of Michael’s hips. “These too?” Ashton questioned in a low voice as he brushed the fabric of Michael’s underwear.    

“Oh God, yeah”, Michael answered, squirming slightly from the infuriatingly gentle feel of Ashton’s touch. Ashton didn’t need to be told twice. Michael shivered with the feeling of being suddenly completely exposed as his sweatpants and underwear hit the carpet. Michael looked up at Ashton through his lashes, braced up on his knees in his black, ripped jeans. “You’d better be planning on losing those in the next second, Irwin.”

Ashton smirked as he undid his jeans. “And I mean your underwear, too!” Michael amended hastily, hungry to see if his memory of Ashton’s body was accurate. 

The dark-haired man’s smirk grew wider at Michael’s clarification, pulling his zip down and allowing his jeans to fall open, exposing only bare skin beneath. “Underwear?” 

Michael’s jaw dropped a little, prompting a deliciously filthy laugh from his roommate. “For the record, roomie - I don’t wear underwear.” Ashton winked as he yanked his jeans down as far as he could in his current position, before wriggling around to pull them off completely. Michael was pleased to see that, if anything, his memory had been selling Ashton short. Blame it on the alcohol. 

Michael didn’t know how to decide on what to do first; on one hand, he wanted to kiss Ashton non-stop for the rest of eternity, but on the other hand, if he didn’t get filled up in the next 10 minutes, he was definitely going to throw a tantrum. Luckily, he realised, it probably wasn’t up to him. All of his experience with Ashton so far told him that the older man would definitely be taking the lead, and this was definitely not a problem for Michael. Indeed, it had worked out very well for him last time, when his staff night out started at the bar and ended with Ashton eating him out like his life depended on it. 

“What are you thinking?” Ashton’s sultry voice broke through his thoughts, apparently wanting a coherent answer despite the fact that he had just begun to run his fingers up and down Michael’s sensitive, pale inner thighs. Michael let out a shuddery breath as he tried to use his words to tell Ashton he wanted anything and everything possible between them, right there and then. Perhaps the way his cock twitched when Ashton let one his nails run over a faded stretch mark right at the base of one of his thighs would speak for itself. 

“Maybe we should get right to, huh, gorgeous?” Ashton teased, withdrawing his touches to lean towards his bedside table. He pulled open the top drawer, fumbling only for a moment until he found what he was looking for. The lube and condom were dropped carelessly onto the mattress as he shut the drawer again, returning his attention to the man almost-beneath him immediately. “We’ve got plenty of time for all the other goods stuff; right now, I need to fuck you, and I know you need me to fuck you...don’t you?”

Michael wondered at what point in his life he had begun to communicate exclusively in whines, but Ashton seemed to be into it, so it didn’t matter. Michael watched impatiently as Ashton popped the top on the half-empty bottle of lube, wasting no time in squirting a generous amount onto two fingers on his right hand and pulling Michael’s leg fully around his hip with his left.

Michael’s heart jumped as much as his cock when Ashton breathed gently on the lube coating his fingers in an attempt to warm it slightly before he brought them straight down to Michael’s bare hole, rubbing over it in a firm circle.

Michael was glad he didn’t have the problem of not wanting his roommate to hear him getting fucked, anymore, as he let out his loudest, neediest whine yet. Ashton proved he had meant what he said about not taking their time with their second tryst, sinking his index finger inside Michael in one fluid motion. Before Michael had got to 10, Ashton was opening him up at a steady, delicious pace and was driving Michael crazy in record time. 

Michael wouldn’t claim to be a pornstar or anything, but he didn’t normally have a problem with stamina. If Ashton kept it up like this, though, Michael was in danger of coming before Ashton’s thick cock got any closer to him, and that was unacceptable.

“Ash, please, I can’t...I want, ne-your cock, please!” Michael cried out as Ashton probed his spot one last time before immediately acquiescing to Michael’s begging. Michael wriggled at the loss of Ashton’s fingers, but took comfort in the fact that Ashton was already tearing the condom packet open. 

Michael watched in awe-tinged anticipation as Ashton gave himself a couple of loose tugs once he had the condom on, before closing in on his lover once more, making sure Michael was laid comfortably on the pillows as he positioned himself over him. Michael clung to Ashton’s shoulders as he lined himself up, just resting the tip on Michael’s slick hole for a moment.

Ashton’s hazel eyes bore down into Michael’s green ones with a soft fire as he raised one hand to brush Michael’s fringe out of his flushed face. Michael let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding as Ashton pushed in - slowly, but all the way.. He felt like he was sinking and floating simultaneously, and wrapped his arms around Ashton’s neck to anchor himself here, with him, in this moment. 

Ashton pressed his face deep into Michael’s neck, kissing and sucking his way up towards Michael’s ear. “You good?” He murmured, shifting his hips a miniscule amount. “Yeah,” Michael breathed, “S’good, please…”.

With a final nip to Michael’s neck, Ashton pulled back slightly and began to move his hips properly, his cock sliding halfway out each time as he began to build a steady rhythm for them. Michael felt that perhaps in their sexual relationship so far, he was earning himself the reputation of a bit of a Pillow Princess, and so he began to move his own hips to meet Ashton’s building thrusts. Ashton groaned, long and loud, at the heightened sensations Michael’s movements brought, and they began to work together towards their goal. 

Suddenly, Ashton’s mouth was crowding his, his tongue sliding into his mouth in a glorious kiss that Michael never wanted to end. He couldn’t tell if it had been 10 minutes or 10 hours when he felt that familiar feeling begin to bubble in the lower stomach. Ashton had begun to up the pace of his thrusts, his hips occasionally stuttering as groans rumbled low in his throat, so Michael knew they were on the same page. 

“Ash,” He murmured in the millisecond between kisses. “Touch me, please, I’m getting so-” Michael broke off into a moan as Ashton was already wrapping a firm hand around his neglected cock, stroking it with determination and flicking his thumb over Michael’s dripping head. “You close, baby?” He murmured, eyes drifting over Michael’s face and the arousal present there. Michael was starting to writhe slightly and his head was flopping to the side on the pillow, but Ashton wanted his attention. With his free hand, he took Michael’s chin and turned his head to meet Ashton’s stare. The moment Michael was forced to meet his strong, heated gaze, his hazel eyes boring down on him with such intensity, Michael felt the kick of heat and it was all over. He cried out Ashton’s name and let out a series of curses and moans as he came, hard and hot over Ashton’s hand and their sweaty stomachs in equal measure.

Michael hadn’t finished himself before he felt Ashton taken by surprise, as well; his hips shooting forward to fill him to the hilt for the last time as he spilt into the condom, releasing Michael’s chin to brace himself through his orgasm on the pillows. “Michael, fuck!”

Michael regained enough control to watch Ashton’s face through hooded eyes as he came, moaning and unrestrained as he finished. He thought he looked heavenly. 

As they both fought to catch their breath, Ashton pulled out gingerly, releasing Michael from his grip as he moved away to remove and dispose of the condom. Michael wriggled in place, trying to get comfortable to recover from what he hoped would be the first of many. Ashton came back from the bin in the corner and flopped back down, alongside Michael now, lifting his arm to allow Michael to snuggle in under it when he wrapped it around him. “So…” He said, sounding casual as you like. “About the whole platonic, friendly, roommate thing…”

masterlist for the 5sos ficwriters collab  • my masterlist

[ryik-the-writer]

The Audacious Storybrooke Mirror Advice Columnist (Wednesday Paper Edition)

In which Lacey French is a smutty advice columnist for the Storybrooke Mirror.

Ch. 2: Gold discovers he sent Lacey the email

This took way too long guys, sorry!

A03

                                                   *-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-*

When Mr. Augustine Gold opened his eyes he had a three-to-four second grace period before he remembered who he was and where he was before his body announced its condition.

And, as always after a night like last night, it started with a blinding, pounding headache, followed by a wave of nausea, and soon, the cold sweats.

Groaning pitifully, he pushed through the stars flashing before his eyes and slowly eased out of bed sideways, holding his head. The room was dark as a tomb, but he could see he was still wearing yesterday’s suit, abet a bit more rumpled. He’d even worn his shoes to bed.

He kicked them off, his body jolting in pain from the movement, and he felt for his cane, having to practically crawl across the floor to get it.

The little light that greeted him in the hallway felt like a snakebite to his senses, and he almost screamed when he cut on the bathroom light.

He turned on the cold water but could not bend over without his head killing him so he cupped his hands and splashed the cold water in his face.

His hands were shaking as he opened his medicine cabinet and crammed down two Alka-Seltzers, three aspirin and a Valium.

Now all he needed was an ice-cold beer and he might live.

He felt his way to the head of the stairs and wondered how the hell he was going to get down them in his state.

Then he heard Jefferson snoring from the living room and he immediately returned to the bathroom and drank water from the tap.

Now slightly stable, he removed his clothes, crawled into bed and jacked his electric blanket on high, quickly drifting off to sleep.

It was just after noon when he awoke again. Now his stomach was hot and burning, screaming for carbs. He quietly unlocked his door and made the careful trip into the living room.

Jefferson was gone, thank Gods, and Gold grabbed his phone and called in an order for two grilled cheese sandwiches, a large fries and, for the hell of it, a chocolate shake. He rolled his eyes when granny charged him double for delivery, obviously sensing his massive hangover and choosing to punish him from it.

He devoured the food in barely five minutes, feeling disgusted with himself for more than just his eating habits. He fell into such bad habits when he was falling off the deep end again, and boy had he fell.

It would be easy to blame it on Jefferson, his tacky business associate and friend on a good day.

Last night had not been a good day, but somehow still lead to Jefferson coming by for drinks as he tried to help him create an online portal for his tenants to pay their rent.

It would take out the need for him to run all over town on rent day, Jefferson had explained, and Gold half liked the idea of not having to soak his leg for a week straight, so he said fine.

The website was forgotten about as soon as the hat-making fiend found the good scotch, and frankly Gold couldn’t remember what he did after that.

His computer was still on in his study, Gold discovered when he wondered around his home, picking up the remnants of the night before. An unfolded blanket here, several crystal glasses there.

A blurry memory was tugging at his brain and demanding he sit at his desk.

He obeyed, only because his body still hadn’t recovered. The memory was becoming clearer. Jefferson’s chaotic laughter as Gold did … something. He was sending out an email to someone, and no doubt had received a response by now.

Gold rolled his eyes and waited for his email to load. No doubt he had sent a grueling message to the mayor, probably something immature that Jefferson had egged him to send.

He blinked and saw that he had no responses, so he went to his Sent emails. One look at the last one he sent and his stomach lurched harder than any amount of alcohol could warrant.

“No…no, no, no!” Gold panicked, her name alone heating him and draining him all at once.

Racy Lacey. Lacey French. His tenant and the target of his desires for well over three years now.

He dared read the contents of the email and started shouting. He was going to kill Jefferson and then himself!

He grabbed his cane and marched back to his room, throwing on his rumpled clothes back on. Damn a hangover.

He’d tear Jefferson’s head off first, he decided as he descended down the stairs.

Then he’d dip his entire body into a vat of acid and use his skeleton as a prop in his shop, he agreed as he opened the front door.

All thoughts left him when the piercing blue eyes he often dreamed about met his, and her curled up fist knocked him in the mouth.

“Whoa! Sorry!” Lacey apologized.

Gold rubbed his lip, staring at the girl that had his heart in a painful knot.

“Miss French,” he greeted, trying to lay on an air of sophistication despite his appearance. “What on earth are you doing here?”

Lacey gave him an incredulous look. She recognized a hangover anywhere, and this one, judging by the tint of green to his skin was pretty bad.

She managed to keep from laughing and remain serious. After all, she was here to figure out if he really meant in his email, among other things.

Cruella had suggested she “jump his bones” at a hastily set up breakfast between them the morning after she had gotten the email.

She hadn’t revealed the name of her current admirer, just the text of it.

It could have been Leroy Miner for all she cared.

“This one looks serious, darling,” her equally lewd co-work had pointed out as she snuck a dose of Kahlúa into her coffee. “If you don’t grab him, I will.”

Cruella would need a whole cabinet of the stuff if she knew her “admirer’s” true identity.

A look over at Mr. Gold didn’t quite turn her on. Mind you, the rumpled look was indeed alluring, and the shadow of facial hair and mused hair had its own appeal.

But she wasn’t her to gander at her landlord, she was here to set him straight and bury this whole thing, no matter how it ended.

She held up a printout of the email he had written and watched as his mightier-than-though look quickly faded.

“You’ve got quite the talent,” Lacey said. “Though it’s a bit Harlequinn for my taste.”

“Did you come all the way here to insult me,” Gold growled. The email may have been a drunken spur, but he had meant every word he said. He did find her attractive, but that didn’t mean he was going to let her say whatever she wanted to him.

“Not at all,” Lacey returned. “I just wanted to know … well … what are we going to do about this?”

If Gold had more courage—or at least if he were les sober than he was now—he would tell her exactly what he wanted to do about this blunder. However, he was hungover and still in his bathrobe of all things and far from confident.

“Nothing,” he said, grabbing the email from her. “Forget about it and have your rent on time this month.”

Before he could slam the door and push her out of her life, her heeled shoe divided his door and the glare in her striking blue eyes threatened to do the same to him.

“Are you bloody kidding me?” she hissed, a bit loud.

“Miss French, control yourself,” he warned, sure he heard one of his neighbors doors open.

“I am in complete control, you wanker,” she shouted. “You’re the one that caused all of this.”

Gold fought the flush creeping up his neck.

Lacey crumpled the email in her hand, sick of this nonsense already. “Whatever, like I’d want to be seen with the likes of you.”

Gold scoffed, solidifying his hurt. “Same to you, dearie, Gods only know what you have at this point.”

Lacey paused and stared at him, the blush on her cheeks from embarrassment.

Gold shut his mouth. Why the hell did he say that? He didn’t mean a word of it! Not to her, never to her.

Lacey turned on her heel before he could say anything, and he almost went after her, but there were spectators watching them from their porches, and he only had the courage to slink back into his living room.

Lacey clawed at her face as she stalked back to the office, Gold’s email still curled up in her hand. She wouldn’t cry over him. Lacey French did not cry over men, though she could occasionally get them to cry over her.

The Mirror was mostly empty due to the lunch hour and Lacey allowed herself to stew in anger without having to explain herself.

She was grateful for the hum of her old computer through the silence. It was a comfortable familiarity. Many people hated their day-to-day jobs or even just lasted long enough to get their paychecks and leave.

Lacey legit liked her job. She didn’t live to work by any means, but she loved her role in creating the little glorified newsletter they pushed out every other day, like that people read and liked what she wrote and came back for more each week.

She liked the admiration and the scrutiny in all forms it came as. It made her life an adventure.

And currently her adventure had reached a stalemate.

Mr. Gold was an obstacle she could cross easily, but Mayor Regina fucking Mills was not.

The woman controlled the town, and one word from her would get her cast out.

Lacey felt sick as she logged into her account and gazed over the subject lines of her email.

All of these were too delicious damn it! How the hell was she supposed to keep this clean!

She threw her head back with a groan. All of these were too delicious! She was finished if she didn’t have something in by Friday.

She turned her head onto her cheek, glaring at the crumpled up email she wished she had thrown at Mr. Gold’s head. She picked at the ball until it unfolded to reveal its contents.

She reread it again, ignoring the little twist in her belly at the words.

Gold had a way with them, she’d give him that. She was sure he had the ability to woo a few women once upon a time.

Lacey lifted her head and scanned over the note again, an idea coming to her.

Gold wrote her a mesmerizing, flattering letter. Sultry, yes, but a few tweaks could have fixed that.

She wondered, what other words did Mr. Gold have under his belt, and just how well could he use them?

[omoi-no-hoka]

Rural Life and Mental Health in Japan as a Gaijin

Heads up: This is a very long, personal post about mental health and the stresses of living in rural Japan as a foreigner. If it’s not what you’re looking for in this blog, please feel free not to read it. If you can’t tell by the gif above, this isn’t going to be a very positive post because I’m not in a very positive mood.

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

It’s been just shy of five and a half years since I moved to Hokkaido, the northernmost island/prefecture in Japan. In many ways, it’s similar to the American Midwest, which is the region I’m originally from. It’s big on agriculture, it’s got lots of nature and rural areas, winters are long and nasty, and the people have a warmth that make up for the cold snow and ice outside. Heck, even a lot of the flora and fauna are the same.

I think of my current city as my “Japanese hometown” because it was where I stayed during my first trip to Japan and it’s where my hostparents from that time are. I love it here like I love my country bumpkin village of 2,800 back in the states.

But after a little over two years of living and working in this city, I think I need out. I am...tired of it in many ways.

特別扱い Tokubetsu Atsukai, “Special Treatment”

Prior to living in this city, I lived in Sapporo, which has a population of 2 million. There, no one batted an eye at a foreigner walking the streets. A lot of them were surprised that i could use Japanese, but a good few people were used to gaijin that could use nihongo and read kanji.

But in my current city, I have experienced all of the following things, some of which on a daily basis.

DISCLAIMER: I have also had a LOT of very positive experiences with the people of this city. Most of my experiences have been positive or neutral, but a good 40% have been as described below.

Everywhere I go, I am openly stared at. Gawked at, at times. (I am your standard-looking, standard-dressed, slightly overweight white girl. No visible tattoos, piercings, vibrant hair color, or otherwise attention-grabbing aspects about me other than the fact that i am clearly not Japanese.)

I am often spoken to like I am mentally disabled, or if I am with a Japanese person, they will refuse to speak to me and instead speak to my Japanese companion.

I have entered restaurants on my own and had waitstaff make a big “X” with their arms and say “No English” immediately upon seeing my non-Japanese face.

I have had waiting taxi drivers drive off instead of allow a troublesome foreigner into their car.

I have sat down alone at a bar and had the Japanese people beside me openly gossip about me with the assumption that I could not understand them.

When searching for apartments when I moved to this city, I was denied 75% of my picks because they have a “no gaijin” rule. Despite the fact that I can speak and read, that I have a good job and valid visa, and that I have already lived here 3 years without a single late rent payment or complaint against me.

I have built up casual relationships with employees at grocery stores, etc. I frequent, and they have asked me for my contact info because, in their own words, “I’ve always wanted a gaijin for a friend!” In Japan, every girl wants a token gaijin friend instead of a token gay friend.

I have gone on dates with Japanese men who clearly just wanted a white girl to hang on their arm like a piece of swag and insist on taking me to a pasta place because “You must prefer western food to Japanese food” or insisting that I dye my hair blonder to look more foreign.

I am just...so very tired of this 特別扱い (special treatment).

I don’t want to call it 差別 (prejudice) because, the majority of the time, Japanese people think they are doing me a kindness by speaking slowly and simply, or by telling me as soon as possible that they cannot help me in English, etc. While a couple of the above experiences are straight up racism (I’m looking at you, asshole taxi drivers and landlords), most of them are a misguided form of “omotenashi,” a.k.a. Japanese hospitality.

So I try very hard not to let it get to me, because I know that they don’t wish ill upon me. But I’ve worked so goddamn hard to learn this language and speak it well, and it is so frustrating for the people around me to assume that I can’t do what has been my freaking life goal. Or having people assume I can’t understand slightly difficult words and dumb down their language (Even colleagues I’ve worked with for two years now!). In the middle of a conversation they’ll say things like, “It’s hard to deal with that level of animosity--oh wait, omoi-no-hoka-san, sorry, ‘animosity’ means ‘dislike.’”

They mean it in a helpful way, but it just comes across as very condescending and I end up thinking, Oh, so they think my Japanese proficiency is so low i can’t understand that word. Which sends me into doubt over whether my language skills are actually that deficient, or whether I am speaking in a way that makes myself look at bad at Japanese.

The Effects of 特別扱い (Special Treatment)

It’s been gradual, but over the past two years, I have found myself withdrawing from the outside world. I got bad at replying to friend’s messages. I started making excuses to avoid meeting up and hanging out. I would buy all the groceries i needed to last me through the weekend on Friday after work and not emerge until Monday morning to go back to work. Even though I really love the outdoors and used to spend entire days just riding my bike along the river trails here.

...But in the past few months I’ve become unable to answer even close friends’ phone calls and messages. And I’ve even had a hard time phoning my parents, which is crazy because ever since I left home for uni I’ve called my mom on a daily basis. When I think about stepping outside of my apartment, no matter the reason or destination, I am gripped by a dread so strong I nearly throw up. I have gone a couple weekends without food because it would require me leaving my apartment to buy some, or paying for very expensive delivery which also means interacting with whoever is bringing me that food.

I’ve had a stressful summer and fall at work, and that undoubtedly has contributed to my current anxiety overload. But things have settled down at work for the past month now, and not only have I been given an award that only 2% of employees get globally, recently I have been in talks to take on what is very nearly a dream position for me within the company that is a BIG step up career-wise. I have great bosses who recognize my efforts, who listen to what I have to say, and do what they can to help when I tell them I’m in over my head.

But I have had several days where I have woken up, gotten ready for work, and just frozen at my apartment door, too sick at the thought of going outside. And yet, I can’t stand the thought of calling in sick because I feel chronic, self-imposed guilt when I take a day off, no matter the reason. So I call in to work and tell them I have a stomachache and will be in once it’s gone, (which isn’t an absolute lie), and then drag myself into work within a couple hours.

And once I enter the office, do the obligatory bow and apology for being late and causing inconveniences, the dread and anxiety vanish and I am fine until it is time for me to go outside to return home.

This makes me think that work is not a main stressor right now. It doesn’t matter if I’m going to the convenience store or the grocery store or work or anywhere. I think the constant being stared at everywhere I go has gradually accumulated to become a nasty form of social anxiety. I used to have panic attacks in middle school and high school due to home life, but since removing myself from that environment they’ve gone away. I’ve always been a socially-reserved person who shies away from the spotlight, and despite telling myself a thousand times, “Let them look at you--you’re just being you and they’re being them and that’s OKAY,” I just can’t brush it off. I have very, very seriously considered dyeing my hair from its natural brown to black in an effort to blend in, if only slightly. Which is laughable, but that’s just how much it bothers me to stand out.

But the event that really sounded the alarm for me was when my best friend of 10 years, a Japanese girl whom I met by chance my freshman year of uni, who was my roommate for 4 years of uni, who let me sleep on her living room floor here in Japan for 3 months until my work visa came through, who has been with me through thick and thin, sent me a message asking when she could drop off a souvenir for me and

I couldn’t bring myself to reply to her text.

That was when I very clearly knew that I was too deep in this funk to get myself out on my own, and I had to figure out how to get help.

Frankly, despite having struggled with panic attacks and anxiety in the past, I have never sought professional help. Until now, I never felt that my symptoms were so bad that they warranted medication. But the fact that i can’t contact my mother or my best friend, that I would rather not eat anything for two days instead of go outside, means that snorting essential oils and rubbing rose quartz against my temples or whatever isn’t going to be enough.

Mental Health Views in Japan

It’s not exactly a secret that the approach to mental health in Japan is “sweep it under the rug.” You do not talk about it. You may go to a doctor and receive medication, but you do not get counseling, because that involves talking about it. You do not tell your friends. You do not tell your family. You DEFINITELY do not tell your coworkers.

I saw my boss, T, fall into a very similar spiral to my own this summer. Stomach aches in the morning, coming in late, making excuses to get out of outings outside of work, not replying to messages, not sleeping well. And then one day he just vanished. Didn’t show up one Monday.

T wouldn’t respond to our messages so we had to contact his mother to get a hold of him. And once she had confirmed that she had spoken to him and scolded him for being “selfish” by skipping work, my coworkers were satisfied because, in their words, “Now that we know he’s still alive, we don’t have to worry.”

Honestly, that was one of the most fucked up reactions to any situation I have ever seen. I was shocked, because these coworkers truly cared for him, but their mutual reaction to this was to just...let him languish.

T announced to a select number of supervisors/colleagues that he had been diagnosed with general anxiety disorder and would be stepping down from his position. He said that he had been diagnosed years ago, but had not disclosed it because he knew that he would never be promoted if anyone knew.

And that’s one of the big reasons that no one wants to talk about their mental illness here. In Japan, having a mental illness is a shameful thing. It shows that you’re weak, that you can’t keep up with everyone else, that you are flawed in a way that will adversely affect those around you at one point or another.

But my company really is a great company and the people in charge are progressive. T has a lot of great skills and experience, and they didn’t want to let him go. So they told him that they would find someone to fill his current role, but once he had rested and gotten better, they wanted him to come back and do a position that he used to do, one that he really shined in and enjoyed. And that is where he’s at now, and he’s doing much better for it.

So, having seen all of this unfold mere months ago, I grappled with how much I should tell my employers. The talk of this new and big position in Tokyo was underway, yet I knew that I wouldn’t be able to handle it unless I got better.

So I bit the bullet, and on the night that I couldn’t respond to my best friend’s text, I sent my boss a message, explaining my symptoms, how long they’d been going on, what I thought the causes were, and that I wanted to take the morning off to see a doctor about it sometime that week.

And I was really shocked by his reply.

This boss is the guy that filled T’s position, and i didn’t know him that well yet. As it turns out, he used to be a counselor before he joined this company. He told me that I could go to the doctor whenever I wanted, but that he also wanted to talk in person about this the next day.

The next day he called me into the conference room with one other manager, a guy I really trust and like. When T vanished, shit really hit the fan at the office and it was basically this manager and me keeping us afloat for the first couple weeks, so we’ve got a lot of camaraderie going. They asked me to talk more about what was going on, why I was feeling all this anxiety, etc.

And it was during this conversation that I saw the division between the traditional Japanese views of mental health and modern views of mental health.

When I explained to them both why I wanted to see a doctor and try medication, their reactions were mixed. My boss, the former counselor, said that if I thought it was best, trying out medication for a few weeks was a good idea.

The manager looked doubtful and said, “But do you really think that going to a doctor and getting pills from him will fix everything? If you’re diagnosed, what will your colleagues think? I thought you wanted that promotion.”

In that moment i felt intense fear and regret, as well as hurt. T had said that he had withheld his diagnosis for this very reason. A part of me had wanted to think it was paranoia on his part, but now I realized that he had been right to keep it a secret. This manager, whom I knew very well and trusted deeply, clearly was of the opinion that a diagnosis/medication = evidence of weakness.

So I ended up lying and telling them, “I’ll go to the doctor just to get some sleeping pills.” (I’ve been waking up every hour on the hour for a couple months now.) Sleeping pills aren’t frowned upon in Japan and the manager was pleased with this decision.

And after that manager left, I told my boss the truth, that i would be getting anti-anxiety meds as well because I really thought it was necessary, and that I would appreciate him not disclosing it unless he was required to, which he agreed to.

Seeing a Psychiatrist in Japan

So now i had to find a psychiatrist and make an appointment. A Google search provided me horrors. Below is an excerpt of a Google review of a certain mental health clinic in my city, and the record of the exchange between the doctor and reviewer (patient). I’m not going to translate it all because it’s long, but these are some highlights of the doctor’s words directly to the patient.

“You can’t sleep? I can’t sleep either. What, do you want some pills for it?”

“You can’t expect me to believe what a patient says.”

(After he made the patient cry) “You are being so difficult. Could you stop crying?”

He gives her medication, has silent nurses send her out to the waiting room where she continues to cry, and the doctor comes to the waiting room and says, “Could you hurry up and pay and leave?”

Having read this, I was filled with absolute fear. Maybe I was better off trying to fix this on my own after all.

But I kept searching, and I also learned that my city hall has a 心の相談窓口 (Kokoro no Soudan Madoguchi), “Mind Consultation.” You can call them to learn information about what sorts of mental health facilities/options are available in your area. A very kind lady there informed me that it takes about 2-3 months to get in to any psychiatrist in this city, most of them do not take new patients, and that counseling is almost non-existent. Unless I was a harm to myself or others, I would have to wait. However, there was one general hospital in the city that had one psychiatrist staffed. This hospital has no reservation system whatsoever (very common in Japan) and takes a set number of patients in the morning and evening. I could try my luck to get in and see her.

So that was what i did, and I was able to see her on the first morning I went! I think the Kokoro no Soudan Madoguchi lady made it sound harder to get into so I wouldn’t feel let down if it didn’t work out the first time I went.

Having read the horror story above, I had a lot of trepidation stepping into the exam room with her and two nurse secretaries. I had expected it to be a very clinical, dry exchange of symptoms and a sufficient prescription with a token お大事に。

And, more than anything, I had feared that she would say something like, “Maybe you should just go home to your own country where you wouldn’t stand out.”

But she asked me a wide range of questions, with none of them focusing on the fact that I was a gaijin: what my symptoms were, how long they’d been going on, what I had going on in my life, what work was like, past history of anxiety, etc., and she and the nurses all truly listened to what i had to say. It was clear that she cared about the underlying causes and me as a person.

She told me that it sounded like I was experiencing a buildup of stress and anxiety and that she wanted me to try a low dose of anti-anxiety meds and sleeping pills for a week and then come back for another discussion.

That was 3 weeks ago. I’ve since been in the process of working with her to find the right combination of medication. Fun fact: they prescribe you Rohypnol (roofies) for sleeping meds in Japan if they deem your insomnia is serious enough. So. That is interesting.

Where I Am Now

I am keeping my boss informed of my condition and he is still very supportive. He seems to have informed his bosses of my tribulations to some extent, because they have gone out of their way to check in on me and see how I’m doing, which is very kind of them. Of course, they also know that i went above and beyond the call of duty for several months in a row until recently, and they could simply be asking because of that. Either way, I am touched that they would think of me, as I am a lowly translator for a lesser project and they are quite a ways up on the corporate ladder.

I am still in talks about taking on a very exciting position in Tokyo HQ, despite one of those bosses likely being aware of my situation to some extent. I used to dread the thought of Tokyo because I am a country girl who needs to see green, but recently I’ve come to the tough decision that I need to leave my beloved Japanese hometown, just like i left my American one. I love them, but I do not belong in them. I have visited the Tokyo HQ quite a few times, and there are a ton of foreigners in the area so I don’t stand out at all. I think that as long as I can live reasonably close enough to a park, I can satisfy my needs for nature while lessening my social anxiety.

I am having good days and bad days where it is still hard for me to leave the house. But I am having more good days than bad now. And today I was finally able to send a text message back to my best friend. Which really doesn’t seem like a lot, but it is a lot to me. My friend is supportive and understanding, which means the world to me.

I’m getting back to being me. 💗

p.s.: The gif at the top of this is from the anime Mushishi, which I think illustrates various mental illnesses and their effects in a very metaphoric way.

[softboywriting]

Healing Touch | Doctor Shawn AU

Summary: Starting a new job in a new town is hard, but meeting someone like Shawn is going to change all of that. You didn’t move to Twin Pines looking for love, in fact, you thought you were pretty happy with your fiance. But things change in the blink of an eye, everything is not as it seems and you and Shawn will need each other to heal. [fluff] [angst] [mentions of bad relationships] [doctor!shawn] [nurse!reader]

Word Count: 23k

|Masterlist In Bio|

The bright early morning sun shines off the snow outside your bedroom window. The room is aglow with soft yellow and orange light as it fills the nearly empty room and it's white walls. You lay there, staring at the ceiling and feeling nervous, excited, eager to start the day. You had arrived in Twin Pines yesterday night, having flown into the nearest city of Southgate. From there you took an hour long cab ride through the darkest highway across the middle of nowhere in the snow to small town of Twin Pines. Today is the start of a new adventure, a new life with a new job.

You run your hand over your mess of hair and sigh softly. It was hard sleeping without your fiance, Ben. He was still back home, looking for a job in Southgate here before he made the move with you. It wasn't ideal, and frankly you didn't understand why he needed to wait. There was plenty of money for the two of you to live on while he job searched. But Ben was stubborn and insisted on staying behind until he was sure of employment. You look at your phone and there's no missed messages. Ben must still be asleep.

You get up and go through your morning routine, breakfast, bathroom, and a shower before getting dressed in your pink scrubs and putting your coat on to head out to go to work. It's your first day and you had seen the small clinic on the way into town last night. It wasn't far from your place and you're grateful because you won't have a car until it arrives with all your stuff with the moving service.

The bell over the clinic door jingles as you step in. The small lobby is clean, modern and warm. The cozy tones of the waiting chairs and decor combined with the soft smell of vanilla is incredibly inviting. You look around for a receptionist, or even another nurse since they often did double duty in small places like this. “Hello?” You call softly, peeking into a door on your left. It's so quiet you wonder if anyone is truly there.  

“Hello!” A male voice cheers from down the hall behind the reception desk. A young man appears, about your age, maybe a year or two older, and as he gets closer you realize he is very attractive. Tall, dark wavy hair, brown eyes and a strong jawline with gorgeous defined features. He's dressed in fitted black slacks and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You can't help but wonder why he's working in a doctors office and not on a runway or for a fashion magazine.

“Hi,” you raise your hand and wave awkwardly. “I'm supposed to meet with Doctor Mendes? I'm the new nurse.”

The man grins and comes around the desk to stand before you. He is so damn tall, like at least a foot taller than you. “You're looking at him. You can call me Shawn.” He holds his hand out and you take it. It's strong and warm as he shakes it in yours.

“You're a lot younger than I imagined.”

“Thank you.” He laughs and runs a hand through his hair, fluffing it and making it look even more like he just walked off a photoshoot. “Let me show you the place.”

An hour later and Shawn has given you the full tour of the small clinic. He showed you each room and where it's supplies were. He took you to the office and showed you the filing and his desk. He explained that he shares the clinic with an older man, Doctor James Hudson who's semi retired and works the weekends. Shawn gives you a run down on everything you needed to know. It seems nice and quiet. A complete change of pace from your last job.

______________________

“So, what made you want to move to the pines?” Shawn asks over lunch. He bought lunch from the diner down the street and brought it back for the two of you.

“Just needed a change of pace. My fiance and I have been looking to move out of our hometown for a while and my old job at a clinic there was going to be gone in a few months. The place was closing down and it was find a new job or be out of work. The offer here was great and housing was affordable in this area. I was excited to start a new job, a new adventure in my life.”

“Was?” Shawn asks over a bite of his sandwich. “You said “I was excited.” Are you not now?”

You shrug. “The town is a lot smaller than I thought it would be. I don't think Ben is going to like it here.”

“Ben is your fiance?” He asks and you nod. “I promise it's a nice place. It is definitely quiet but there is plenty to do. Is Ben not here now?”

“No.” You look at your phone and see a reply to your good morning text. “He's back home still. He wanted to get a job before moving up here.”

“In Twin Pines? Or just the city?”

“City. He does construction.”

Shawn nods and polishes off his lunch. “Well, I hope he gets here soon. You seem pretty down.”

You crack a little smile. “Gee thanks.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m just being observant. But really, I hope he gets here soon.”

_______________________

Your first two weeks pass in the blink of an eye. For a small town the clinic was fairly busy. You ended up meeting a lot of residents and they are all very friendly despite being ill or injured. Shawn is sweet, an absolute pleasure to work with. He's funny, smart, kind. He loves to teach you, to have you sit in with him if it's not too busy at the front. He says he wants you to be like his partner, to suggest things and give your input on diagnosis. It's wonderful and you really feel like he is doing a lot to make you feel included.  

It's Friday night, your fifteenth day in town and your stuff finally arrives. There had been some delay due to weather on the drive there. So for the two weeks you were sleeping on a fold out cot that the landlord lent you and living out of a suitcase.

Ben hasn't replied to you all day and you're exhausted. You had been texting him asking about how his job hunt was going. About how the moving company was finally arriving. How your lunch from the diner was really good and you think he'll like it. All that and he didn't say a single thing in return. You decide to call him but as soon as you do, the movers arrive.

Several hours later and your house is sort of put together. It's a haphazard mess of boxes and furniture placed in general spaces where they might belong. You're too tired to care about moving anything so you head to bed. You would call Ben in the morning.

________________________

Loud knocking wakes you from a deep sleep. It was lovely to have your own bed to sleep on again. You were finally getting some good rest and someone had to ruin it. You get up and put your blanket around your shoulders for extra warmth as you head to the front door.

“Hey,” Shawn says with a smile and a wave as you open the door. “Good morning.”

“Good morning? Can I help you?”

He chuckles. “Actually I came to help you. You said the movers were arriving yesterday and I figured since Dr. Hudson is at the clinic on the weekends, I could come help you out.”

You smile and get butterflies flutter in your stomach. Shawn was really this sweet of a guy. “Wow, thank you. You don't have to do that.”

Shawn shrugs. “I know how hard it is to move on your own. So can I come in?”

“Of course sure,” you hold the screen door open and he steps inside, thumping his boots against the door frame so he doesn't track in snow. “How'd you know which place was mine?”

“You said you moved into the townhomes up the street from the clinic. There was only one place for rent that wasn't anymore. I put two and two together.”

“Oh.” You run your hand over your messy sleep hair and laugh. “It's definitely a small town huh?”

Shawn nods and hangs his coat on the hooks beside the door and you can see he's dressed in dark jeans and a soft looking red flannel shirt that stretches with his toned back as he moves. He looks good. Damn good. You look away, chastising yourself because he was your coworker and you have a fiance. You should not be ogling this man.

“Let's get going yeah?”

“I need to get dressed first and have some food but make yourself comfortable. There's some books in the box by the TV stand.” You drop your blanket from your shoulders on to the couch and Shawn chuckles. “What?”

“Your pajamas have ducks on them.”

“Yeah? They're comfortable.”

“It's cute.” He leans against the back of the couch. “I'm used to seeing you in your scrubs. It's different is all.”

“Right,” you look down and pull your shirt out to look at it. “Thanks? I'm going to go get dressed now.”

“I'll be out here. Promise I won't snoop through any boxes.” Shawn laughs and you roll your eyes as you head to your room to get dressed.

_________________________

A few hours later and you're completely unpacked. Everything's in its place and Shawn even helped you rearrange your living room a little. The two of you find out you have a very similar taste in movies and music. Talking with Shawn is easy, natural and comfortable. You get so comfortable that when the two of you are done and collapsed on the couch together you ask his opinion on your situation with Ben.

“Do you think it's weird Ben hasn't been texting me or anything?”

“What do you mean? I see you on your phone at lunch all the time.”

“Usually I'm just texting him about my day. He doesn't reply back.” You stare at the ceiling, making little designs in your head out of the swirled paint. “I’m worried something has happened.”

“Something bad?”

“Yeah, but if that were the case his dad would call me. So I dunno, it's just weird.”

Shawn turns a bit to look at you and you tilt your head to the side to look at him. “Communication is really important. If he isn't talking to you, that sounds like something is wrong. Did you guys have an argument or something?”

“No, I can't think of anything. I'm just confused I guess. It's hard being here alone and not knowing anyone. I mean, I know you now obviously. But you know what I mean.”

“I do. I was new here once too. I totally understand the feeling.”

“When did you move here?”

“Almost a year ago. I finished up med school and after finalizing my divorce I packed up and left the city. James, Dr. Hudson, was looking to semi retire and I was looking for a fresh start.”

Your eyes widen. Shawn was so young. The word divorce throws you for a loop. “You were married? You're like what, twenty five?”

“Twenty seven, and yes I was married. It was,” he pauses, chuckles and shakes his head “it was a huge mistake. We were twenty one and stupid. She...uh...she left me for a guy almost twice my age.”

“Oh my God.” You lay your hand on his arm. “That's insane.”

“It was pretty shitty there for a while. We had been married for a year almost. The divorce took way longer than I would have liked, but that's because she moved to the other side of the country with her sugar daddy.” He rolls his eyes. “It's done now though. I made it through med school and got out of there. I got a fresh start here.”

“That’s great, I'm glad you came out okay. But y'know this story isn't really helping ease my anxiety about Ben.”

“Fuck. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to tell you that to insinuate that Ben is being shady like my ex or something.”

“Oh I know. But it is something I've considered, though I don't really think he would do anything like that. I've known him since I was sixteen. He is probably just busy.”

“Doesn't matter how long you know someone. I learned that lesson too. You should call him. If you're feeling uneasy, talk to him. I'll head out so you can call.” Shawn pushes up off the couch and goes for his coat. “Thanks for letting me help out. It was fun.”

“No, I should thank you. I would still be unpacking for days of you hadn't stopped by.”

“I'll see you on Monday.” He says as you hold the door open for him. “Oh, and about your question earlier.”

“Which one?”

“The one about printed scrubs. I don't mind if you wear them. I like the ones with the roses on them.” He smiles and steps down the porch, heading for his Jeep. “See you later!”

“Bye!” You wave and close the door. Was he flirting with you? Or was he just being genuinely complimentary? He knew about Ben. He knew he was your fiance. No. You're just reading into it.

________________________

You call Ben that evening and lay across your bed while the phone rings and rings. You're a little annoyed, considering it's too early for him to be in bed, but not too late, he could be out with friends. Finally on your third call he answers.

“Babe what's up?”

“What's up? I've been texting you for two days. What gives?”

“Hold on I can't hear you.” He goes quiet and you wait. “Okay, now I can hear. What'd you say?”

“I said I wanna know why you haven't been responding to my texts?”

“Oh shit, I'm sorry. I lost service for a few days. My bill didn't auto pay or something.”

You narrow your eyes at that bullshit. “So when was your phone turned back on?”

“It must have been just tonight. I hadn't checked it all day.” There is sounds of a couple people laughing loudly in the background. “I'm on the phone! Be quiet!”

“Where are you?”

“Dave’s party for his engagement. Him and Sarah are finally going to tie the knot.”

“Oh.” You are kind of annoyed. Why hadn't Sarah told you? The two of you were pretty good friends through Dave and Ben. “I didn't know.”

“Sarah must have forgotten to text you. Anyway, can I talk to you later? They're about to start beer pong and I have to be on Dave's team.”

Really? He was prioritizing beer pong over his fiance who he hasn't spoken to in days. “Yeah. Sure. Call me tomorrow.”

“No problem. Good night babe!”

You drop the phone and let it fall to the bed beside you. Something about all this felt wrong. Sarah would have told you about the engagement. Ben wouldn't have lost service because the bill is paid out of his credit card and you're on the same plan but pay with different accounts so you know if he lost service you would have too. He's lying and you're pissed.

__________________________

Monday you wear your rose printed scrubs to work. Shawn notices immediately and grins the moment you walk in the doors. He knows you're wearing them because he said he liked them and he's right. The day is busy, and for that you're grateful. It's not until lunch that you realize Ben hasn't replied to your texts again, even after the conversation you had Sunday afternoon when he called you back.

“What's wrong?” Shawn asks over the table you're sat together at in the diner.

“Nothing.” You set your phone on its face and smile at the waitress as she drops off your drinks. “It's fine.”

“No, come on. That face says not fine. Is it Ben?”

“Yeah...he's just...he's being weird. I called him on Saturday night after you left and he was at some party and then I talked to him Sunday too. Nothing he told me added up and I'm irritated.”

Shawn leans back and folds his arms over his chest. “What'd he say?”

“He said his phone was shut off and the party he was at was for our friends engagement. But I know the service was fine because we're on the same plan, and our friends didn't text me anything about the engagement. Then on Sunday I asked him about finding a job and he said he had been looking but there was no openings anywhere. But just Friday when Josh Hammond was in he said they are short handed at some construction site in the city and he didn't want to be late for work. I just don't know why Ben would be lying.”

“Did you check Facebook or anything to see of the engagement was legit?”

“Yeah,” you turn your phone over and bring up your Instagram. “That's another thing. I think Ben blocked me, and so did Sarah and Dave. I don't know what's going on.”

“That's is definitely a red flag. Have you call your friends?”

“No, I didn't want to seem like that crazy fiance who is untrusting of her partner.”

Shawn scoffs and rolls his eyes. “There's a fine line between paranoid and something actually going on and trust me, you're on the side with the signs pointing to some sketchy shit.” He leans forward and takes a drink. “If I were you, I'd go back home and try to get some more information while no one knows you're in town.”

“I...I'm scared though. What if Ben is cheating on me?”

“Then good riddance. I sincerely hope that isn't the case because you absolutely do not deserve to go through that kind of heartache. It's shitty. But you need to know what's going on.”

“But I need to be at work.”

“As your boss, I'm giving you time off to go take care of this. Find out what's going on so you can move forward with your life.”

You sigh and turn your phone off, putting it in your purse. The server arrives with your food and you smile at her in thanks. “I'll check into flights tomorrow.”

“Seriously. I hope it's nothing bad going on and he's just trying to surprise you or something. But either way, you need to know.”

“Right. Thanks by the way. For the time off and stuff.”

Shawn smiles around a bite of his burger and covers his mouth with his napkin. “You're welcome.”

__________________________

Unfortunately due to an impending snow storm, the next available flight out of the city won't be until next Monday. It's fine. You'd just have to go crazy with your thoughts while stuck in a blizzard in the middle of nowhere. It was really, really fine.

Wednesday. The snow starts in the early morning hours and by the time you wake up for work there is already four inches on the ground on top of the snow that was there already. The snow shows no signs of stopping and you can't even see across your backyard to the treeline a few yards away.

You check your phone when you get out of the shower to find Shawn has texted you that the clinic would be closed today. Wonderful. You wouldn't even have work to distract you now. Just perfect. You get dressed in some sweatpants and an old tee shirt since the only thing you'll be doing is binge watching TV and maybe cleaning the place a little.

A knock at your door shortly after you finish breakfast, a pop tart, half a pint of ice cream and two cups of coffee, makes you think that you've lost your mind. Surely no one was going to be out in the middle of the snow storm. It had to be the screen door rattling in the wind again.

The knock comes again and this time you look out the peephole to see who it is. All you see is a bulky scarf and some chin. You open the door and find Shawn bundled up to his eyeballs standing on your front porch.

“What in the hell are you doing?”

“Visiting.”

“At nine on a Wednesday morning during a blizzard?”

Shawn looks back at the snow falling heavily, whiting out the world as you know it. “Nah, this isn't a blizzard yet. Just heavy snow.”

“Either way! Why are you here? Don't you have a couch of your own to lay around on all day? Or some paperwork to go over?”

“Nope. See, there's this girl and she is going through a rough time right now. And I know she wants answers but this snow storm is making it kind of hard. So I thought maybe I should stop by and keep her from going insane.” He grins at you and you just cannot believe what a dork he is. “I'd really appreciate it if she let me in. I kind of walked across town to see her.”

“Oh my god, come on then,” you laugh as you hold the door open for him to step in.

Shawn sheds his layers slowly and you hang his coat and puffy black coveralls over a chair you drag to the entryway. He puts his hat and scarf on the hooks by your coat and he kicks his boots off on the shoe tray.

“You're ridiculous.” You shake your head, watching him do a little stretch. “You should have just stayed home. I'm fine.”

“Somehow I doubt that, and that's why I'm here.”

Hours later and you and Shawn have watched two movies, eaten a few bowls of popcorn, some sandwiches and a bag of cheese puffs between the two of you. It's well into the late afternoon and you're feeling tired, sluggish from the lazy day.

“How's your family like Ben?” Shawn asks just as you start to doze off.

“I thought we weren't supposed to be talking about him. You're supposed to distract me from that.”

“I know, it just, I dunno. You could have your parents check on him?”

You shake your head and laugh. “My parents would rather push him off a bridge than talk to him for any length of time.”

“That bad?”

“My parents always wanted better for me. That's what they say anyway. They don't think Ben is going anywhere in life. They think he parties too much and acts like he's eighteen.”

“Does he?”

“No? Well I guess sometimes? He's just having fun. It's not like he's not working, he just goes out on the weekends with friends.”

“Do you go with him?”

“Not usually. I'm not that into house parties and stuff anymore. I'm usually pretty tired from work and I have errands to run.”

Shawn shakes his head. “What do you and him do together?”

You're quiet. It wasn't until now that you realize you're not really sure what you and Ben have in common anymore. In college you would go to parties and drink and play games, but that was college. You can't remember the last time the two of you went out for dinner or just sat in and watched a movie like today. “I...don't know.”

“I'm not a like a relationship counselor or anything, but I think you guys need to reconnect. Maybe the distance isn't so bad for him because you weren't as close as you once were before you left? Have you wondered about breaking up? I'm not say you should, but I mean in the event that he wants to or if you do?”

You lean your head back and close your eyes. It's hard to think about. You and Ben have known each other since you were sixteen, been together for five years and engaged for almost one of them. But...this move, the new job, meeting Shawn, it's made you see the cracks. Ben never wanted to talk about a wedding, never wanted to plan beyond the ring. Why propose to someone and then not want to have a wedding? Then there's this whole game of phone tag and social media fallout. The cracks are getting wider and you're starting to see through them. Soon it's all going to fall apart.

“I think you're right.” You look over at Shawn and he raises his eyebrows. “I think we need to talk and find out where this is going. If he...if he loved me he would have moved and found a job here by now right?”  

“I can't say for sure and honestly I don't know.”

“If your fiance moved for a new job, would you go with them?”

“Yeah, but that's me. I have a job that can find work nearly anywhere.”

“Yeah...so does he.” You reach for the remote and turn up the volume. You're done talking about Ben. It's too much. You want to enjoy the rest of your snow day and forget the rest of the world.

__________________________

Friday. You called Ben before work. It's always you calling him. He never calls you first. You talked to him about your last few days, carefully omitting the fact you hung out with Shawn. It wasn't that you wanted to hide your friendship with Shawn, it's just you know how Ben is. He will get jealous and start comparing himself to Shawn. Now you think about it, maybe you should mention him and see how Ben reacts.

“What're you doing tonight, ducky?” Shawn asks, leaning against the front desk before his next appointment arrives, his biceps straining against the sleeves of his red button down. God he was fit.

“Ducky?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Your scrubs, they have baby ducks on them.” Shawn points to your top. “They're cute.”

You look down and smile. “They're my favorite pair. I love the little yellow ducklings.”

“They definitely are very adorable. So what're you doing after work?”

“Nothing. Probably laying on my couch and watching reruns of NCIS.”

“Want to hang out with me?”

“Sure.” You smile big. This would be the perfect opportunity to get a reaction from Ben and see what he thinks about Shawn. He still followed you on Snapchat so you could post a photo or something to your story. “What are you thinking?”

“There is a bar by the park that has really good food. Ever have fried pickles?”

“No? What the hell is that a thing?”

“You're gonna love it.” Shawn turns and you look up as your three o'clock appointment has arrived. “See you at closing time?”

You chuckle and roll your eyes. “Yes, but I have to go home an change before we go out.”

“Me too. Meet at my place? It's pretty close to where I want to take you. It's nothing fancy though, so don't get too dressed up.”

“It's not a date! I am not gonna get dressed up!”

“Yeah I know, but like the place is a bar and grill. Nothing fancy. Just...thought I'd warn you.”

“Maybe you just can't handle me being all dressed up.” He looks surprised and you wave him off. “I'm kidding. Nothing around here is fancy enough for me to get dressed up for so don't worry. I'll meet you at your place around five.”

__________________________

At just before five you find yourself walking up to Shawn's house and his garage is open. You'd only been by once before and it was to drop off a book you borrowed. In the garage there is a black and red sport bike. It's one of those expensive ones racers used. Not something you'd expect to see in the garage of a sweet friendly doctor.

Shawn steps out of the door to the house and waves at you. “Hey, you made it. Did you walk?”

“Yeah. I figured why waste the gas.”

“Ah, whatcha looking at?” He chuckles as he looks to where you're gawking at the bike. “My bike?”

“Yeah. You don't seem the type.”

“My dad and I rebuilt that a few years ago. He got it really cheap one summer for my birthday because I always wanted one. I used to go dirt bike racing when I was a teenager.” He lifts his sweater and shows your his lower stomach where there's a thin scar up his side. “Flipped over the handlebars when I was sixteen and the bike came down on me. That was a nasty accident.”

“Ohmygod, that’s horrible.” You run your fingers over the scar and he giggles, shirking away instinctively. “Oh sorry, does it hurt?”

“Tickles.” He grins and leads you to the doorway before putting in the code to close the door. “Maybe when the weather isn't too cold I'll take you for a ride.”

“Oh yeah? With a scar like that I'm not sure I want to ride with you.”

“Oh come on,” he laughs and unlocks his Jeep. “I'm a much better driver now.”

“Uh huh sure.”

A short while later you find yourself in a little booth at the bar Shawn mentioned. It's right across from the park and you sit by the windows to get a good view of the lit up trees lining the path that circled it. It's beautiful. Like twinkling stars had landed in the trees of this tiny town.

“You're flying out Monday right?”

You look away from the lights and stare at the man across from you. He has no business looking so attractive under the dim golden light of the lamp overhead. Everything about Shawn was gorgeous, from his eyes to his lips, his ears to his shoulders. Everything. It's hard not to feel something for him. “Yeah. Monday at noon.”

“Good.”

“Maybe I shouldn't go though. Maybe I should wait longer.”

Shawn picks up a mozzarella stick out of the basket of appetizers in front of the two of you. He had ordered the combo so you could try everything. “Don't get cold feet now. You need to know what's going on. You can't be stressed for much longer, it's not good for you. Trust me. I'm a doctor.”

You roll your eyes. “I'm just worried I'm paranoid.”

“You're not. Believe me, from a guy who's been cheated on and dumped, it's best to trust your gut. Don't make excuses for Ben.”

“But-”

“Ah!” Shawn shoves a fried pickle in your mouth and you make a noise of surprise and annoyance. “I'll drive you to the airport if I have to. You're going. That's that.”

You swallow your pickle and take a drink of water. God damn it was spicy. “Fine. I'm going.”

He smiles smugly then points out the window to a horse drawn carriage that's trimmed with Christmas lights. “Check it out. They have the horses out.”

Your eyes go wide. It's beautiful, like Cinderella's carriage but with blue and white lights. “Oh my God! I've always wanted to ride in one of those.” The horse trots on by with a family in the carriage that are looking at the tree lights and decorations around the park.

“Why don't we take a ride? It's like six dollars.”

“What? No, I mean, can we?”

Shawn dusts his hands off and laughs. “Of course we can. Let's finish up here and I'll take you to the place where they sell tickets. I think it's runs until nine so we got time.”

You sit back in your seat, grinning like a kid. Ever since you were little you had wanted to ride in one of those. There was one that used to run in town during Christmas time when you were in college but Ben never wanted to go on it. This was going to be perfect.

The carriage ride is everything you hoped and more. The wind settled down and it's a chilly crisp night. Shawn is sat beside you, arm over the seat behind you, taking it all in as you are. His body heat keeps you nice and warm.

“This is amazing. I'm just at a loss for words.” You snap a picture of some giant ornaments on the park lawn. “I've always wanted to feel like a princess on her way to the ball.”

“And you should get to.”

“It's childish though isn't it?”

“No. It's not childish to want to feel a certain way and it's definitely not childish to do something you've always wanted to do.”

You turn your phone and point it at him. He grins big and goofy for you. You snap the photo and he laughs. “You're fun y'know.”

“You are too.”

“Thank you. For everything, I don't know what I would have done without having you to talk to.”

“You're welcome, and I'm always here.”

The carriage comes to a stop and the two of you get ready to get out. There's a lady standing by the ticket booth who is one of the people who run the attraction. She waves as she comes to help you and Shawn down safely. “Would you like a picture together with the carriage?”

You look to Shawn and he shrugs, leaving it up to you. “Sure, I wanna remember my first carriage ride forever.”

You pass your phone over to the lady and she backs up to take the picture. Shawn steps closer and puts his arm around your shoulders. On the count of three you grin big and cheesy. The lady gives you back your phone and you look at the picture. Shawn is grinning just as big and dorky. It's a cute photo and you can't wait to post it to your Snapchat.

__________________________

Monday you head to the airport in the city. Shawn stopped by before he opened the clinic to wish you well. You're nervous. Nobody responded to your Snapchat story with you and Shawn and photos from the carriage. You're not sure if that's a good thing or not. But what makes you the most nervous is finding out the truth.

Two hours later and you're on a flight home. You're sick, throwing up from nerves in the plane's bathroom. This is horrible. You don't want to go home. You don't want to find out what's going on. The plane lands and you head straight to Ben's apartment. It was better to get this over with as soon as possible.

You take a cab to his place and ask them to wait. You're not sure why. You have a hunch he isn't there. You enter the door code and head up to his place.

“Hello?” A man asks, opening it and you realize it is not Ben. “Can I help you?”

“I’m sorry. I was looking for Ben Grayson. He used to live here?”

“Oh. Well, I just moved in two weeks ago. Sorry.”

“Right. I'm sorry for bothering you.”

“No problem. Hope you find him.” The guy shrugs and closes the door with a soft smile.

You turn and face the elevator doors and sigh. Ben moved. He moved and didn't tell you. Was he heading for Twin Pines? No. He's been out of this place for two weeks at least.

You head out and get in the cab, asking the driver to take you to Shirley's Diner. Ben's sister Megan worked the day shift there. She would know where he is. You don't particularly want to let anyone know you're in town but you aren't sure where else to look for Ben.

“Megan!” You call out as you take a seat at the vintage counter in the diner. The girl at the end of the counter turns and looks at you like she was seeing a ghost.  

“Holy crap, you came back?”

“Yeah, not permanently. I'm looking for Ben. He moved out of his apartment?”

“What do you want to talk to Ben about?”

“He's been acting weird and not answering calls and he still hasn't moved to Twin Pines. I wanted to find out if something was wrong.”

Megan leans in and drops her voice. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head?”

“No? Why?”

“Because you and Ben broke up? When you left you called it quits. He said you didn't think he fit into this new chapter in your life.”

“What?!”

Megan shushes you. “Yeah, is that not true?”

“Megan. No. He's lying. I've been trying to get him to come up there with me. I've been calling and texting like every day and he hardly responds. He blocked me on Instagram and Facebook. So did Dave and Sarah.”

“Oh...shit. I knew it seemed weird, like, you guys were engaged.” Megan grabs her notepad and scribbles something down. “This is Ben's new address. But...”

“But what?”

“He might have company.”

“Oh you have to be kidding me.” Your stomach churns and you thank Megan as you make for the doors. The address on the paper isn't too far from the diner so you decide to walk, to rehearse what you're going to say to the lying cheating bastard.

Ben's car is on the side of the street and you debate going full Carrie Underwood on it before you see the security camera on the building. You made decent money, but not enough to get yourself out of the trouble that would put you in.

You put in the door code that Megan gave you with the address and sure enough you get in. Ben's apartment is on the first floor and you head straight for it, counting the doors as they pass until you get to number seven. Two sharp knocks on the door and you step to the side out of view of the peephole.

The door locks rattle and then the door opens. You step forward and watch as Ben's face goes white. You thought Megan looked like she had seen a ghost, Ben may as well have seen a zombie.

“Hey, new place huh?” You smile sarcastically. “Funny, I thought you couldn't afford a different place with your income alone.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh no Ben. The real question is what are you doing here?” You look around the hall which is nicer than his entire last apartment. “What are you doing in a new apartment on the west side of town? Why aren't you in Twin Pines with me?”

“Well, I just had to move because of the uh...the rent. So I moved in with a friend. I-I’m still trying to find work in Twin Pines. I told you that.”

You step forward and he holds on to the door for dear life. He's hiding something. “Right, right. Well I happen to know that in Southgate they're short on construction workers. Seems a man of your abilities would be able to benefit from that. Y'know, if you had actually looked into a job up there. But you haven't, have you?”

Ben rolls his eyes and you could just punch him square in the mouth. “I don't qualify for tho-”

“Oh cut the shit Ben! I know you lied to everyone that we broke up when I left. Your sister told me the whole fucking story.” You shove the door open and on the couch just beyond the entryway you see a blonde girl looking your way. “Yeah. Figured that one.”

“Listen I-”

You hold your hand up. “No. There is nothing you can say that will fix this. You cheated on me, and for God knows how long if you've moved in with her.” You slide the ring he gave you off your finger and throw it on the ground. “Take your ring.” You look to the girl on the couch. “I hope you're comfortable with knowing that he's been cheating on me, his now ex fiance, the entire time he's been with you. I hope you don't have to fake it as often as I did.”

Ben steps back and you head down the hall to the doors. He says something but you don't hear him over the blood rushing to your head. You don't stop walking until you get to a bus bench around the corner. It's then that everything comes crashing down around you and your emotions get the best of you. You crumple, body deflating as you sink heavily into the metal bench.

Your phone buzzes and you look at it, expecting it to be Ben trying to talk his way out if this. It's not. It's Shawn. He wants to know if you landed okay and if you've talked to Ben yet. You hit the call button and hold the phone up to your ear.

“Hey! Did you get my text? Did you land okay? How was the flight?”

You take a shaky breath that turns into a sob. “It's over. You were right, I was right.”

“Oh no. You've already seen him? What happened? Where are you? Are you okay?”

“H-he lied to everyone and said we b-broke up.” You wipe your nose and try to take a deep breath. “He's been seeing someone probably since before I left.”

“For fucks sake. I'm sorry. Are you okay? Physically are you okay?”

“Y-yeah. I'm just sitting here crying at a bus stop. I'm gonna c-come home.”

Shawn sighs heavily. “I should have gone with you. God you don't deserve to be alone right now.”

“I'm fine. I'm going to go to the airport and get a flight. I don't want to be here any longer.”

“Let me know when your plane leaves. I'll pick you up in Southgate.”

“Shawn, no. You have to work.”

“James comes in at four today for urgent care hours. I will be there.”

You look around take a deep breath again, trying to get your self calmed down. “I'll see you then.”

__________________________

The second you walk into the boarding terminal leading to the main concourse of the airport you see Shawn. He's heading straight for you, eyes trained on yours as he pushes past people.

“You came.” You smile weakly.

“Of course I did.” He wraps his arms around you and that's it. It's all over and you start crying. You grip his back and he holds your head to his shoulder as you shake.  “I know, I know. It's okay, let it out.”

“I hate him,” you sob. “I hate him more than anything.”

“He's a piece of shit. You don't deserve this.” Shawn pulls back to look down at you and wipes your cheeks. “No one deserves to be screwed over, but especially not you.”

“It hurts.”

“I know. Take it one day at a time, I promise it'll get better.”

“I just want to go home.”

“I can do that. Do you have luggage?”

You gesture to the bag on your back. “Just this. I didn't plan on staying.”

“Good.”

The two of you walk out to the parking area and you don't see his Jeep. You look around just in case but there's no car in sight.

“Where's your car?”

Shawn chuckles. “About that. The Jeep wouldn't start for some reason so it's sitting in the clinic parking lot.”

“How the hell did you-” That's when you see it. The sport bike from his garage. It's sitting a few parking stalls down from the walkway you're standing on. “You brought the bike?”

“I had to come get you.”

“Shawn, I would have called a cab. It's so cold, were going to freeze.”

Shawn shakes his head and grabs the helmet off the handle. “I promised you I'd be here. We'll be fine. Here, put this on.”

“And where's yours?” You pull it on and buckle under your chin.

“That is mine. I'll be fine. I promise I won't speed.” He climbs on and scoots forward for you to sit behind him. You get on and wrap your arms around his chest, pressing your head against his back. “Ready?”

“As ready as I'm gonna be.”

Shawn moves and the bike starts up, rumbling to life beneath you. He takes off slow, heading for the parking lot gates. Once he hits the highway it's all you can do to hold on to him and that's all you want to do. Hold on to Shawn and never let go.

__________________________

One month later

Picking yourself up is hard after having the world come crumbling down around you. The echoes of the fall out haunt you day in and day out as things remind you of him constantly. You want to make new memories, and you are, but it's hard. Cutting ties with everyone but your parents back home is the hardest thing you've ever done, but somehow it feels right. Maybe Ben was a little bit right in his lies. This is a new chapter in your life and he doesn't fit in. No one from back home did.

“So, uh, what're you doing this Saturday?”

You look up from the desk and leaning on the counter is none other than Luke Dempsey, the mechanic down the street. He was a fairly handsome guy and he knew it too. Tall, fit, sandy blond hair, somehow always a little tan even in the dead of winter.

“This Saturday?”

“Yup. Got plans?”

“Not really. It's not like I can leave town with the weather coming in.”

Luke grins big, teeth too white to be natural. “How bout you and I go out for dinner?”

You take a deep breath and relax your shoulders a bit. Were you ready for this? Yes. Yes you were. You cannot let Ben haunt you. It's over. It's time to move on and live in the now. “Sure, six okay?”

“Absolutely. I'll pick you up.”

You smile and nod, waving as he leaves the office. To your right you can see Shawn step out of a patient room and give you a questioning look. You shake your head and go back to your paperwork.

__________________________

“What're you doing this Saturday?”

“I have a date.”

“What? With who?”

You look up from your salad and smile just a little. “Luke down at the auto shop.”

Shawn rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“What?”

“That guy is a tool. He's more interested in his hair and whitening his teeth than he is in a relationship. Why would you want to go out with him?”

You set your fork down and cross your arms, staring at Shawn across the table. “I thought you'd be excited I'm actually trying to move on from Ben.”

“I am, but not with that guy.”

“You got something you want to tell me?”

Shawn pushes his salad around in it's bowl, becoming very interested in his croutons suddenly. “I just don't think he's a good idea.”

“It's one date. If it's shit I won't pursue it.”

“Yeah, yeah you're right. I'm sorry.”

“What're you doing on Saturday?”

“Nothing, just wanted to see if you'd come over and watch a movie with me or something.”

“I'll have to take a raincheck.”

“Yeah,” he sighs softly and keeps eating.

You return to your lunch and there is a quiet tension between the two of you as you both finish your food in silence. You can't say you didn't expect some sort of reaction out of Shawn about the date. The two of you obviously have chemistry but you're not sure if you should date your boss, or was he just a coworker? Besides, you don't want to push boundaries.

__________________________

“So I got into working on cars because my grandpa used to take me to his shop all the time. I think it's because my mom couldn't afford a babysitter but it's cool. I learned a lot growing up.”

You smile and nod as Luke keeps prattling on about himself. Seriously the last hour has been the Luke Show. You haven't gotten a word in edgewise and it's goddamn annoying. The last time you spoke was to order, and even after you said you didn't want an appetizer, he ordered one. Then proceeded to ask why you didn't have any but no need for your response because he just kept talking.

You glance at the clock over the bar and roll your eyes. The two of you have been in this bar for an hour now. Yes. A bar. Luke's idea of a good date was taking you to O'Malley's Pub and getting you bar food and drinks made by a bartender who looks like they're eighteen. It's not going great.

“That's so funny right?”

“Hmm? Yeah.” You chuckle and sigh.

Luke tosses back the rest of his light beer, gotta watch those calories you know, and grabs his phone from his pocket. He actually answers a text. Sitting there in front of you. On a date. He texts someone and even laughs. That's the final straw.

“I think we should call it a night. I told Dr. Hudson I would help him with some paperwork tomorrow morning.” You grab your purse and slide out of the small booth.

Luke puts his hat on and lays a couple bills on the table for the tab. “Alright, I'll drive you home sweetheart.”

He could keep the pet names. You don't want to see him again if you could help it. The drive to your house is quick, it's not too far from the center of town. You slide out of his overly large truck and land in the pile of snow at the end of your driveway. He doesn't get out and help you, just leans over and says goodnight before driving off. Ugh. What a tool.

You walk up to your house and suddenly, right as you step on the porch, your feet go out from under you. One moment you're on you’re upright, the next you're on your back. A wave of nausea washes over you and you're dizzy for a moment before your head and butt begin to ache horribly. You lay there staring up at the darkened evening sky, lit up to a soft brown color from the snow reflecting back. It's cold and you feel like if you move you're going to throw up.

In your pocket your phone buzzes. You know you need to get up, that you cannot lay here. You have to check out your head and get some heat or something on your backside. Ever so slowly you reach into your pocket and get your phone, stomach revolting as your vision gets all fuzzy from the movement. You press around on the screen until you hear ringing and bring it up to your ear.

“Hello? Hello? Did you butt dial me?”

“Shawn, I fell. Can you come over?”

“What? At home?”

“I'm outside the house.”

“Oh my God. I'll be right there. Stay on the phone.”

You do as he says and after a few minutes, your butt going numb in the cold snow, you finally hear tires crunching in the snow nearby. Shawn's footsteps are unmistakable and he drops to his knees beside you, his beautiful face coming into view.

“Hey,” you smile and close your eyes. “There's ice on the steps.”

“Yeah no shit honey.” His hands go to your head and he carefully parts your hair, turning your head ever so slightly. “Are you dizzy?”

“I was. It's fading now. I didn't hit my head too hard. My body hurts though.”

Shawn slides his hands under your upper back and helps you sit up. “Your head looks okay. I'll still check for signs of a concussion. Let's get inside and I'll go over you.”

Minutes later you're stripped down to your underwear in your bedroom while Shawn looks over your back. He says there's scrapes from the cement where your lower back and butt hit. There will definitely be bruising. You feel like someone's beaten you with a baseball bat.

“I know you want to rest but I don't want to risk it. I am not seeing any signs of a serious concussion but I'd like you to stay up a while longer. I'll stay just in case.”

“Can you get me an ice pack from the freezer?”

“Of course.” Shawn gets up and goes to the kitchen.

“You were right by the way!” You shout as you put on a big tee shirt and some shorts with a little more effort than usual. “Luke is a total tool bag!”

“Oh yeah?” Shawn returns with the ice pack and you lay down with it on your back. He stretches out on the bed next to you and turns on your TV.

“Yeah. I should have gone home with you instead.”

“Hindsight is twenty twenty.”

“Sure is.” You lean your head on his shoulder and his puts his arm around your back. It's unmistakable, the way you both feel about each other. He knows you don't mean go home as in friends going to hang out at someone's house.

________________________

“How's your back?” Shawn asks from the exam room opposite your desk.

You look up and he is washing his hands in the little sink. It's been a week since you slipped and Shawn's kept a close eye on you. “It's okay. I've got a little achiness but nothing I can't manage.”

“I think I have a new prescription for you.” He walks out of the exam room and hands you a little slip of paper.

You unfold it and see it says TLC on it. “Shawn, really?”

“Yes.”

“I'm fine.”

He leans on the top of the desk, arms crossed as he stares down at you. “You need to rest. I'm serious. Doctor's orders.”

“And who's going to run check in and help get patients ready?”

“I'll get a temp or see if Rhonda will pick up a few extra days.”

“You know she only works weekends with Dr. Hudson.”

Shawn scrubs a hand over his face. “One day? Just one day of rest?”

“Are you asking or telling?”

“Depends. You wanna defy your doctor?”

“You're my doctor now huh?” You grin cheekily and he flushes at the flirtiness.

“You know what I mean. One day. Tomorrow. You're off.”

You sigh in defeat. He was right. You needed to just relax and lay down, take a hot bath and chill out. Straining your back every day wasn't helping at all. One day. You'd take just one day off...and the weekend. Dammit. That was his plan all along probably.

________________________

Sunday morning you wake up and feel much better than you have been. You took a few of the pain medication that Shawn prescribed you. Nothing too serious, just a higher dose of an advil equivalent than available over the counter. It's actually really nice to just lay in bed and not think about anything. No aches and pains. No thoughts of Ben. Nothing. Just the peaceful sound of your fan over head and the cardinals outside singing their morning song.

Christmas was coming fast and you didn't have anything for anyone. Not that you had many people to buy for anymore. Your plan was originally to have your parents fly out and visit you and Ben for the holiday. But that just didn't seem like a good idea now. You would just fly home and see them.

You look at your phone on your pillow and see Shawn's name pop up. He's texting, asking if you're up and if you want to go shopping with him in the city.

“Good morning,” you laugh as you hold the phone up to your ear. You'd much rather call Shawn than text. His voice was soothing and you quite liked when he talked, and even though you heard him talking forty hours a week, it never got old.

“Good morning to you too. Must be pretty cozy in that bed if you're still in it.”

“It's pretty warm. I've got a fuzzy blanket too. Jealous?”

Shawn laughs and you beam. “Oh definitely. So how are you feeling? Up to shopping in the city? I haven't gotten any presents yet and it's a week or so away from Christmas.”

“I'm doing a lot better. I guess my doctor was right. But shouldn't I be resting?”

“I bet your doctor knows a thing or two.” You grin at his sarcasm. Gods he was wonderful. “And I think I can convince him to let you go out.”

You laugh at his dorkiness. “I think I'm up for shopping. Funny thing is, I was just thinking about buying some stuff for my parents. I also need to look for some new snow boots, mine are pretty worn out.”

“I'll pick you up in half an hour?”

“Sure. See you then.”

Shawn brings you coffee when he shows up and he even put your favorite vanilla caramel creamer in it for you. He's the best. You sip on it while he drives toward Southgate and the two of you listen to the morning talk radio. It's a comfortable silence between you two, a sleepy and soft one as the trees whiz by with their snow covered branches. The roads have been cleared recently so the drive isn't so long, only half an hour or so.

The two of you head into the mall where Shawn has stopped and immediately you feel like you're back home, but in a good way. Being in a big city again felt strange almost.

“Anywhere you wanna go first?” You ask as Shawn strolls along the shiny tiled floor aimlessly beside you. He's in jeans and a sweater, and it's such a simple outfit but on him it's incredibly gorgeous.

“I thought about getting my mom some puzzles at the entertainment store. I'm sure they probably have a pretty good selection.”

“My mom loves puzzles too. We should definitely go there.”

As the two of you browse the game section at the big games and toys shop you can't help but wonder why Shawn hasn't shopped already. He didn't seem the type to put things off, and especially not something important like Christmas.

“I hate last minute shopping.”

Shawn looks up from the pile of board games he's looking at. “Yeah, me too. I don't usually do this sort of thing though.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I'm kind of hoping Christmas will just like...not happen?”

You chuckle and shake your head at him. “What does that even mean? You don't like Christmas?”

“Yes I like it.” He laughs. “It's just since my divorce and all the crap with my ex, my parents are always asking about my love life. Every year for the last five years I hear the same spiel. They're so worried they won't ever get more grandkids.”

“More?”

“My sister Aly, she's two years younger, she has a little daughter. But she said she doesn't want more kids after she had Grace. It was hell on her body.”

“Oh. Wow.”

Shawn waves it off. “She's okay and so is Grace. But my parents are just so invasive every Christmas. I'm tired y'know?”

You grab a puzzle with some cats on it and decide that it's definitely the best one you've seen. Your mother loves cats. “We could spend Christmas together? I'm sure the theater will be open and the chinese places here in the city?”

“I'd love to but my parents expect me. I can't not show up. You don't have plans?”

“I do but I don't? My original plan was to fly my parents here to see me and Ben. Now I think I'll just fly home and spend the holiday with them maybe.”

“Oh, yeah. I'm sorry.”

You shake your head, not wanting to dwell on Ben. “Yeah it's whatever. Come on, let's go check out the movie place and see what they’ve got on sale.”

________________________

“Hey Mendes!”  

Shawn turns around and a snowball you lob at him hits him square in the chest. The white compact snow explodes across his dark coat. “Really? A snowball fight?”

The last few days have been hectic at the office. Today was no exception. You scoop up your next projectile and he just stands there. “Yep. You need to chill out. Better duck.” You send your next one sailing and it whizzes past his head.

“Hey!”

“I said duck!”

Shawn scoops up some snow and his ball is much larger than yours. “You're gonna pay for that first one.”

“Am I? Or are you all talk?” You bounce a ball back and forth in your hands. “Gonna fight me?”

Shawn sends his flying and it explodes across your stomach. “You started this war!”

“And I'll win it!”

Shawn ducks behind his Jeep in the car lot in front of the now closed clinic. It had been a very long day, there were fifteen appointments since it was less than a week before Christmas and the clinic would be closed from Christmas Eve until the day after. Both of you were stressed to the max.

“No fair! I don't have shelter!”

“Maybe you should have driven to work!” Shawn shouts as a snowball comes for you over the hood of his Jeep. “You came unprepared!”

“Cheater! No shelter! Face me like a man!”

Shawn stands up and comes around the front, three balls in hand. “Like a man huh?”

“Yeah.” You smirk, throwing a ball and nailing him in the chest again. “Like a man.”

He strides towards you and you back up, he aims and hits you right in the leg. His next one hits your stomach and finally his last one gets you right in the forehead. The snow rains down in your eyes and on your face and you are stunned still.

“Oh shit. I didn't mean to hit your face.”

You wipe the melting snow off your face as Shawn quickly approaches mumbling apologies. He holds your head to check that you're okay. He doesn't pay attention to the ball in your hand or that it's suddenly going up the back of his coat.

“I win!” You whisper with a smirk.

Shawn shakes around, getting the snow out as it melts against his button up shirt. “You little shit!”

“I got your mind off work didn't I?” You stop him, grab the back of his coat and the snow falls out.

“You did.” He sighs. “Thank you. It was a shitty day and the holiday looming so near isn't helping either.”

“I know. You wanna come with me to Southgate? I have to pick up the bed frame I ordered the other day while we were at the mall.”

Shawn shakes his head. “I think I just want a nap and some dinner. Thank you though, and if you need help getting it out of your car let me know. I'll stop by tomorrow morning if you need me.”

“I should be good. I'll see you tomorrow.”

________________________

One moment you're singing along with the radio to some song you barely know and the next you are panicking. The steering wheel is jerking to the left as you slide down a hill and you can't control your car. You head straight for the barriers on the side of the road where a creek ran under a small bridge. You just miss the barriers and go into the snow heading for the treeline.

You don't remember the crash. You don't remember anything besides seeing the trees approaching rapidly and jerking the wheel to try and stop. When you open your eyes you are laying on the roof inside your car, a tree limb is through the window to your right.

“Fuck...fuck.” You wiggle your fingers and toes, tilt your head side to side. All basic function seems to be fine. You feel your chest and stomach, tender but no blood. Your neck hurts a little but it's not bad. Your body aches as you make a move to get up. Glass crunches under you and you maneuver yourself onto your hands and knees. The remains of your seatbelt hang in your face and you're not sure how you got out of it. It's very disorienting to be in a car this way.

You look around for your purse and find it under the tree limb that's coming through the windshield. It seems the car rolled on to the tree limb as it's pushed up through the overturned windshield. You fish out your phone with a shaky hand only to find you have no signal. Of course not. The stretch between Twin Pines and Southgate was nothing but forest and farmland and you were in the start of the valley.

You grab for the door handle and shove open the driver side door. You crawl out into the snow and collapse beside the car, vision becoming blurry and dark. Everything hurts. The only way you can describe it would be like you fell down a flight of stairs, which you did once as a kid. It's awful. Your face hurts too, like you've been sucker punched a few times. You lay there, opening your eyes and staring up at the cloudy sky overhead that threatens to bring snow at any time, thankful you're alive and trying to hold it together.

The only way you're going to get help was to get up the hill you came careening down in the car. To get there you'd have to get out of the ditch first and that sounded about as appealing as chewing your own leg off. But you have to do it. You push yourself up on your knees and use the car for leverage to bring yourself up. One look around the area and you know you're alone. There are no cars as far as the eye can see. Your car is completely fucked, even if it got towed you'd have to total it. That is the least of your worries right now though.

Ten exhausting minutes later you are at the top of the hill. You're frozen, hands red, face aching and wind burnt. Your body feels absolutely no better than it had before and your thighs are cold and tingly. You hit Shawn's name and call him first. You don't know why. Maybe because you know he can get there faster than the ambulance from Southgate. Maybe because you wanted to hear a familiar voice. Maybe because he was the only person who you needed in your life in general.

“Shawn,” you croak, voice foreign to your own ears. Your throat is dry and it hurts to talk from huffing and puffing in the crisp air. “I need you.”

“What? Where are you? Did you slip again?”

“No. My car went off the road. I'm by the bridge over the creek going to Southgate.”

“Are you okay?” his voice is panicked. “Have you called an ambulance? I'm on my way right now.”

“I hurt, but I don't think I'm too bad. I dunno.”

Keys jingle and you hear a car door close. “Call for an ambulance.”

“Shawn.”

“I'll be there shortly, as much as it kills me you have to hang up and-”

“Shawn!”

“What? What happened?”

“There's ice. Don't go too fast. Please be careful.”

“I will I promise. I'll be there as soon as I can. Hold on okay? I'm going to get you. I'm going to be there soon.”

“I'll be the crumpled heap by the road.”

“You're not making this any better y'know.”

You let out a little chuckle. This was no time to be laughing or making jokes but here you are. Coping you suppose.

“I'll see you soon. Are you warm enough? I'm going as fast as I can. I'll be there. I promise.”

“I'll be okay. Stop talking and driving before I have to come find you in a ditch too.”

“For fucks sake...Okay. Okay. I'm going to hang up now.”

As soon as you hang up on Shawn your phone flashes and the power goes off. Shit. You sink down into the snow and watch for Shawn's Jeep to approach. It'll be a while, you were about fifteen minutes out of town. The cold seeps into your skin and you shiver, body revolting against the contraction of muscles. You let out a cry, no longer able to hold back. Your strength has dwindled. Not even dry humor was going to help you now.

You look up at the sound of tires on gravel and you don't realize how long you've been spaced out but your hands hurt really bad, prickly and numb. Shawn is practically falling out of his Jeep to get to you. He runs across the snow, zero regard for the ice beneath it. You've never been happier to see him, or anyone, in your whole life.

“Oh honey,” he breaths, dropping to his knees beside you. “Look at me.” He gingerly guides your face up and he looks like he's about to cry.

“I didn't call for help.” You whisper, holding out your dead phone. “It died.”

Shawn pockets the phone and grabs your hands to warm them up. “Where's the car?” He looks around and back to you.

“Down the hill.” You point to where your car, a dark heap, lies against the tree trunks at the bottom of the hill past the creek. “I didn't have signal down there.”

Shawn's eyes widen. “Holy shit. You didn't say it rolled. You walked up here?” He helps you stand up and opens your coat. “I don't see any blood, how's your ribs? Your stomach? Are you coughing up blood or do you feel nauseous?”

“My ribs hurt. No blood, no nausea.” You lean against him for support and groan. “My body hurts.”

He wraps his arm around you and takes you to the Jeep. “I'm going to take you to the hospital. You could have internal damage. Were you wearing a seatbelt?”

“I was.” You let out a yelp as he helps you up into the passenger seat. “But when I came to I was on the roof.”

“You weren't belted in the car when it rolled?” He pulls the seat belt over your lap and latches it for you.

“I was, I just said that. I don't know how I got out of it.” You lean your head back and let your eyes close. You're tired. It hurts to breath and talk. Your head is on fire and you just can't deal with it anymore. “I just need to rest.”

“Honey, stay with me. Keep talking.”

“Tired.”

Shawn cups your face tenderly, careful not to be too rough as he forces you to look at him. “Keep talking to me. I know you're tired, but you have to stay awake. Remember? Concussions make you tired?”

“Fuck.” You tear up, eyes burning as you let your emotions get the best of you. “I'm scared Shawn. I don't want to pass out and not wake up or something.”

“I'd never let that happen.” He leans forward and kisses your forehead before closing the passenger door and going to the drivers side. He takes your hand after he gets out onto the road. “I need you to keep squeezing my hand so I know you're awake okay?”

“Yeah.” You squeeze and he rubs his thumb over your fingers. “I can do that.”

________________________

A while later you're walking through the doors of the emergency waiting room at the Southgate Memorial Hospital. Shawn gets you a wheelchair from the little cubby of them for injured patients and pushes you up to the desk. He discusses your situation with the nurse and they take you into triage for basic assessment.

Everything happens so quickly and you just do whatever Shawn and the nurse tells you to do. It's so strange, you feel like you're in fog. As if you're viewing yourself do things. You know how this works, you'll be taken to a room and the doctor will come in to see you. A nurse will check on your vitals again. You've been here, done this for three months in your training back home.

“Shawn?” You ask, looking over to where he's filling a cup at the sink. “Shawn?”

“Yes honey?” He asks, turning and taking your hand. “What's wrong? Do you need something?”

“You're a doctor.”

“Yes I am?” He tucks your hair back.

“You're my doctor. Why am I here?”

Shawn pets your hair back and you lean into his hand. “I think it's best for you right now. I'm too emotionally involved to treat you. But I'll be here.”

“Shawn, long time no see.” You look past Shawn to see a man in a white coat. “What brings you to my ER tonight?”

“Trevor. Good to see you. Well, not like this but, y'know.”

“I'm Dr. Collins,” Trevor introduces himself to you, hand on your shoulder. “Let's go over what happened.”

Four hours later and you're released. You're bruised and cut up just a little from the broken glass but overall okay. The fogginess has subsided and you feel more alert. Dr. Collins didn't find any signs of cracked ribs or internal bleeding. You're sent home with a prescription for pain medication and rest. You pass your car on the way and you feel a pang of sickness course through your stomach. Your car is destroyed. Just a hunk of metal now. That was a process you'd have to deal with later. Right now you're doing good just to deal with the reality that you could have died.

________________________

“You need to rest. Why are you out of bed?”

You startle and lean against the counter for support. Shawn gets up from your dining table to come meet you. You didn't know he stayed the night again. “It's Monday. I can go to work. I'm just bruised.”

“I won't have you in the clinic. I took today off so I can be here with you for the whole day.”

“Shawn! You can't just close the clinic!”

“I already spoke to James. He understands, and it's not closed. He's taking my hours for the day.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Shawn steps forward and holds your shoulders. “I care about you, a lot. You're my friend and you're all alone here. I cannot in good faith leave you by yourself after an accident like this. Have you talked to your parents yet?”

“No. I'll tell them later.”

“When you go home for Christmas and you're bruised all to hell?”

Tears prick your eyes and you look down. He was right. If you went home like this your parents would freak out. You don't even know if you should fly, and driving was obviously out of the question. “I guess I'll have to stay here for Christmas. I'll just tell them I'm snowed in.”

“You can come with me.”

You look up and Shawn brushes some hair off your face. He was always so gentle with you. “Go with you?”

“Yeah. Go with me to my parents house in Baytown. It's on the other side of Southgate. I'm sure they would love the company.”

“I can't do that.”

“You can. Please come with me, I'd really like to keep an eye on you.” He takes your hands and you squeeze gently. “Please?”

You look up at him and he looks so soft you can't say no. He has your whole heart and you're sure he must know it. “We'll see.”

________________________

Christmas Eve. Shawn's hand finds your thigh as you bounce your leg nervously in his passenger seat. You're almost to his parents house, it's in a small town outside of Southgate so the drive isn't much farther than going to the city. But you're anxious. It wasn't like you had a problem with meeting new people, your job required you to be pretty social. This was different though. It was Shawn's family. It felt like it had when Ben had taken you to meet his dad for the first time. But that was because you were dating and you were afraid his dad wouldn't like you. You and Shawn are not dating, so why is this a big deal? Why does it feel like you're about to meet some board of directors for judgement?

“Hey,” Shawn says softly and you tear your eyes off the road.

“Yeah?”

His thumb rubs gently against your jean covered leg. “Relax. My parents are super nice. My mom will love you, she loves company.”

“I don't know why I'm so nervous. Probably because my face is still bruised up and stuff. They're going to wonder what happened.”

“You’re fine. It's hardly visible. I promise no one will notice.”

“If you say so.” You put your hand over his and he turns it over so you can hold it. It's comfortable. Ever since the accident when he had you hold his to stay awake, you've found comfort in holding his hand. It feels warm, intimate, safe. It feels right.

The moment you arrive at his parents house, his mother runs out the door to meet him. She's all bundled up in a bright red sweater as she clamours through the snow down their lawn toward the Jeep. As soon as she sees you she stops, eyes going wide and she yells something back toward the house.

“That's my mom.” Shawn laughs and shuts off the car. “I didn’t really think about this before but she might think you're my girlfriend.”

“Oh.”

“It's okay, I'll explain the situation.”

“No.” You look over at him and he raises his eyebrows. “I'll be your girlfriend.”

“What? Are you serious? You mean just pretending right?”

“I think we both know that-”

“Shawnie! My baby!” His mother cheers as she pulls his door open and wraps her arms around him. “Who's this? You didn't say you were bringing anyone!”

Shawn turns and puts his arm around you. “This is my f-”

“Girlfriend.” You reach over, take his mom's hand and introduce yourself.

“I'm Holly, I'm so excited to meet you. Shawn hasn't had anyone over in ages. Not since his divorce. We worry about him.”

“Mom,” Shawn groans.

“I know I know. Thank you for coming.” Holly holds your hand between hers and looks you over. “And you're so beautiful! So lucky Shawn!”

“Mom.”

“Thank you.” You flush and look over to Shawn who's just as red. “I'm excited to be here.”

“Right! Come inside, it's cold out here. I've just got cinnamon rolls out of the oven.”

You meet Shawn's dad, Mike, and he is quiet but his demeanor shows just as much as excitement as Holly's. Shawn's sister is due to arrive tonight with her daughter and shortly after you're settled in, Holly says she has to go do some shopping before Aly gets there. Shawn says she's going to buy you presents, and you just roll your eyes.

“You want to be my girlfriend huh?” Shawn asks a while later when the two of you are settled down in his old bedroom that is now a guest room. His mom is still gone shopping and his dad is taking a nap in his chair. “I can't say it's not a little unexpected.”

“So you're telling me that you don't want to date me?”

“I didn't say that.”

“I think it's time we acknowledge that we're both really attracted to each other. It's more than just attraction really. You were the first person I called when I nearly died. That's something I don't even know if I would have called Ben first for. It takes a special kind of person to be the first one to be called in a time of crisis.”

Shawn steps toward the bed where you're sitting and puts his hand in your hair, thumb brushing over a small bruise on your forehead. “You're right, and I want to be that person. I want to be there for you all the time.”

“And I want you to be that person.”

You look up and he leans down, lips brushing yours, asking for permission. When you nod slightly, he presses more firmly. You fall back and he crawls over you, lips locked onto yours. Your hand goes to his hair and he growls playfully, biting and you moan softly. Kissing him is incredible, he tastes like honey chapstick and whatever he was drinking earlier. It's sweet, salty and very much like Shawn and you love it.

“Ben really fucked up,” he says, leaning up on one arm over you.

“He did?”

“Yeah. You're beautiful, and smart and unbelievably enticing.” He leans in and kisses you softly. “Can’t believe we waited so long.”

“Guess we had to sort some things out first.”

“Mmhmm, and I'm glad they're sorted now.”

________________________

Aly shows up a shortly after dinner is served. Shawn's mom had made a big salad and some rolls for every one. A light dinner before the Christmas feast tomorrow. Just when you thought you couldn't have any more feelings for Shawn, you're proven wrong. The moment Grace, Aly's daughter, runs into the house Shawn scoops her up and spins her around. He's amazing, playing with her hair and telling her a story about something that he saw at the mall. You definitely can't help thinking about having a child of your own with him.

Aly is surprised to see you. Your presence a shock to her as much as it had been his parents.

“How did you and Shawn meet?” Aly asks after introductions.

“Work. I'm a nurse in the clinic.” You look over at Shawn who's got Grace on his shoulders. “We kind of hit it off right away.”

“He needs someone good. He's been through a lot.”

“I have too. We understand each other, he's amazing. I'm so lucky to have met him.”

Aly smiles and folds her arms over her chest. “Which one of you said it first?”

“Hmm? Said what?”

Shawn wraps his arms around you and you melt back into him, heart fluttering at this new sort of contact. “What're you guys talking about over here?”

“You.” Aly smirks. “I was going to tell her all your nasty habits.”

“Oh please, I work with this woman every day. There's not much she doesn't know.”

Aly raises her eyebrows and you just smile at her, not sure what to say. He wasn't wrong. The two of you spent forty hours a week together and then often times a few hours after work.

“Fire mom!” Grace exclaims jumping up and down by the fireplace under the TV mount.

Mike is starting a fire in the fireplace and you wander over and curl up with Shawn on the couch as his mom turns on the TV. Aly and Grace sit opposite you, and his parents sit in their chairs. It's nice, and feels like home.

You feel bold, comfortable with Shawn's closeness. He has his hand on your thigh, rubbing up and down gently. Your hand eventually finds its way into the back of his hair and he leans back into your touch. It's something you've always wanted to do. His hair looked so soft and thick, you dreamed about running your hands through it. His eyes flutter closed as the TV plays a Harry Potter movie marathon. He's beautiful. He just relaxes completely and enjoys your hand gently scratching his scalp as his hand comes to a stop on your leg.

“I need something to drink.” Shawn murmurs after a few minutes, pulling away from your touch reluctantly. He gets up and heads for the kitchen. You scoot over into his warm spot and wrap up in the blanket the two of you were sharing. It smells like his cologne and you could just fall asleep right there curled up in that spot. That thought leads you to thinking about later in the evening. The two of you would be sharing a bed, like, actually sleeping together.

Shawn returns and hands you a cranberry sprite as he drops down into your old spot. “Your favorite right?” He wraps his arm around your shoulders and tucks his feet between yours on the foot rest.

“Mmhmm. I can't believe your parents have some.”

“I told Mom to pick it up for you.”

“You guys are gross.” Aly laughs and you roll your eyes. “Grossly cute.”

“Jealous?” Shawn asks, sipping his water bottle.

Aly just shakes her head and Grace gets up to grab a present from under the tree. “Mom! Can I open one tonight!?”

“Grace, it's not Christmas yet. How about we go see the lights?”

“Lights?”

“Remember the Christmas lights at the park? I think Santa's reindeer might be there too.”

Grace's eyes light up and she runs for her coat.

“You wanna go see the reindeer?” Shawn asks you softly. “They're really cool if you've never seen them.”

Aly gets up and says something to her dad as she helps Grace with her coat. Holly says she will go and both her and Mike get up to get their coats on. You are torn between staying in the house alone with Shawn and seeing reindeer. You know the two of you won't get much time together alone while you're here. Not that you wanted to do anything risque. It'd just be nice to be together for a few minutes without anyone around since this was still very new to you.

“You guys coming?!” Grace asks excitedly, grabbing at Shawn's arm and tugging him up. “Come see the reindeer! Come on Uncle Shawn!”

Holly scoops Grace up and puts her on her hip. “Let's let these two go at their own pace Grace. They'll show up.”

“Boo. Lame.”

Aly laughs from across the room as a breeze of crisp night air blows in through the front door. Everyone files out and leaves you and Shawn alone in the living room.

“Do you not want to go?” Shawn asks worriedly.

“We can go. I just wanted a moment.”

Shawn rubs your arm. “Are you feeling alright? You're not overwhelmed are you? We don't have to do this. I can take you home and we can go on like we never discussed being more than friends.”

“No, no. I'm fine. Let's go.”

“You're sure? Are you hurting? How's your ribs?” He reaches for your shirt and pulls it up a bit but you push his hand down.

“I'm fine. I'm just not used to this.”

“We'll take it one day at a time okay?”

You nod and he stands up and hauls you up against him. He eyes you skeptically, and you give him a curious look but he lets it pass as the two of you go to get your boots and coats on.

________________________

The park is huge and set up like a little Santa's workshop town. There are little elf statues everywhere, games kids can play, reindeer are in pens with their handlers and there is even a guy in a santa suit wandering around. It's adorable.

Shawn bumps your hand and you let him grab it, threading your fingers together. They way it feels to have Shawn's affection is unlike any other. Not even when you first started dating Ben did you feel this warm and safe. There was something about Shawn that was different in all the right ways.

“What did you want for Christmas as a kid?

You look up and Shawn is looking over at a reindeer as it passes with it's caretaker. “Uh, I dunno I guess.”

“There has to be something. A pony? A password journal? Barbie dream house?”

You laugh and he smiles at you tenderly. “Okay, yeah I wanted a Barbie dream house, but I also wanted the car. I remember asking for them for months.”

“Did you get them?”

“Yeah. My grandma got the car for me, but no dream house. It was the yellow Volkswagen Bug that comes with stickers to decorate it. I loved that thing.”

Shawn chuckles. “Sounds like me when I got my first guitar. I begged my parents for ages.”

“Oh yeah? You can play?”

“I could. I learned on YouTube. Classes weren't my thing so I just watched videos to figure out how to play songs I liked. It was fun, I don't know why I ever stopped.”

“What kind was it?”

“A fender, electric.”

“Ohmygod, I figured it would be one of those starter acoustic ones y'know?”

Shawn chuckles. “You'd think right? No, I had to have electric. I was dead set on it.” He pulls out his phone and shows you a picture of himself holding the guitar up and grinning. “Here I am, brace faced and ready to play.”

“Look at you! Ohmygod it's really pretty. I like the color of the body. Do you still have it?”

Shawn shakes his head. “No, I sold it when I went to college. Didn't get much for it, the body was pretty worn from years of use. I should get another one and see if I still remember how to play.”

“Maybe Santa will bring you one.”

“Oh yeah?”

You tug him by his hand toward the santa that is taking pictures with some teenagers by a giant present. The kids wave goodbye and you approach him. “Santa, do you take requests for gifts?”

“Of course young lady!”

“Really?” Shawn chuckles and you tug him closer.

“What's wrong young man? You don't believe in Santa Claus anymore?”

“I...uh...”

You cut him off and shake your head at the santa. “He's had a rough few years. I think he needs some reminding of the magic of Christmas.”

Santa laughs and lays his hand on Shawn's arm. “My boy, the magic of Christmas comes from the heart. You've got plenty of heart don't you?”

“Yes sir, I do.”

“And do you young lady?”

You nod.

“Christmas isn't about toys and lights and gifts. It's about love, and the two of you most certainly have that.”

You turn scarlet and so does Shawn. “Santa, we aren't that f-”

“You can't fool Santa! The two of you are made for each other! I know that look, it's the same one I had when I met Mrs. Claus. Now you had a request? What can I do for you?”

“N-nothing Santa. Thank you so much.” You smile politely and he walks off with a you're welcome and a cheeky smile.

“What the hell was that about?” Shawn laughs, looking at Santa round the corner of a game booth. “That was weird right?”

“Totally weird. I just wanted to goof around and ask him to bring you a guitar. That was just wild.”

Shawn looks up at little snowflakes that start to fall around you. He brushes a few out of your hair and lets his fingertips linger against your temple. “You look beautiful,” he murmurs to himself, eyes soft as he looks over your face.

“Thank you?”

“What?”

“You said I look beautiful?”

Shawn's cheeks flush bright red up to his ears. “I didn't say that out loud?”

“Yes you did.”

“Jesus Christ.”

You laugh and grab his hands in yours. “You're beautiful too.”

“I-”

“Are you gonna kiss?” You look down and see Grace standing beside the two of you. “Because gross.”

“Oh really? Kisses are gross?” Shawn teases, squatting down to her level.

“Yeah. Super gross.”

“Oh. I see. You mean kisses like this are gross!” He pulls her to him and kisses her cheek a bunch of times as she squeals and squirms against him.

“Ew! Uncle Shawn germs! Gross! Mom!”

Aly, Holly and Mike appear from around a tree nearby and Grace runs to her mom.

“There you are. We were wondering if you guys came,” Holly says as she leans into Mike's side. “We we're just about to go see if the carousel was still running before heading back home.”

“Sounds good,” Shawn says and puts his arm around your back as you follow the group toward the other side of the park.

“There's a carousel?”

“Yeah, they have Christmas themed animals to ride on and stuff. You'll love it.”

The carousel is still running for the next half an hour and you all buy tickets to ride. The usual circus animals you would see on a carousel are instead replaced with reindeer and santa sleighs of all different colors. Mike and Holly chose a sleigh while Grace picks a reindeer and Aly stands beside her. You and Shawn go for two reindeer side by side, Comet and Cupid are emblazoned on their saddles.  

“Please no running, walking, or changing of reindeer or sleighs while the ride is in action. All first time riders and children under six years of age must be accompanied by an adult at all times. I will announce when the ride is finished and when it is safe to exit. Thank you and have a great time.”

As the ride starts, you begin going up and down slowly to the tune of Christmas songs blasting on the speakers overhead. It feels like flying and it's absolutely incredible.

“I haven't done this since I was a kid!” Shawn laughs.

“I've never been on one before!”

“What?! How?!”

“Never came up!”

Shawn slides off his reindeer and crosses the gap to yours. As yours goes down he gets on the back and you’re sure that's not allowed but you're not sure if the reindeer will hold two people. Surprisingly it does, and keeps going up and down despite the extra weight. Shawn's arms wrap around your waist and he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“First time riders shouldn't ride alone. Didn't you hear the rules?”

“They also said don't get off the reindeer or walk around while the ride is going.”

Shawn chuckles softly. “That's so kids don't get hurt. Besides, I couldn't leave a first time rider all on her own. What if you fell off?”

“You're ridiculous.”

“Just a little bit.”

________________________

Everyone settles down for the night and Grace is put to bed as soon as you all get back to the house. The remainder of the evening everyone sits out on the enclosed back porch with the heater on, just talking about life. You're next to Shawn on the swinging bench and you're tired. The day has caught up with you finally. Shawn is discussing a case he saw come through the office with his dad and you just lay down, head on his lap, listening to the men talk quietly among each other. Shawn's voice, soothing and sweet, vibrates through his body and into your ears as you lean your head against his stomach.

You're not sure how long you are asleep, or if you ever were really asleep at all, when suddenly you hear someone else talking. It's Aly, her voice is nearby, closer than it was before.

“Shawnie is in love,” Aly says with a soft sigh.

A hand in your hair glides gently across your scalp and pulls away just to make another pass through, over and over. “Shut up Aly.”

“You are. You look at her the way you used to look at Alena. Actually, I think you hold back with her. You shouldn't do that, she should know how you feel.”

“Aly. Please, I don't need relationship advice from my baby sister.”

“I'm not that much younger don't call me a baby. But I'm right and you know it. You hate it and you know it.”

Shawn pushes the swing back and let's it swing forward, rocking the two of you gently. “You are, but shut up.”

“You're no fun.”

“I'm not. But don't tell her that.” His hand stills in your hair and he rubs his thumb across your eyebrow carefully. It's a strange but intensely intimate feeling. “She's too good for me.”

“Shawn no, don't think like that. I know Alena really fucked you up with what she did, but don't let that reflect on your future with her. You're better than that.”

You decide you've had enough eavesdropping because you're about to start crying. You move slightly, eyes opening to meet Shawn's staring down at you tenderly. The soft warm glow of the heater reflects off his eyes and makes them look even more like honey than ever before. You're absolutely in love with him.

“Hey, you were sleeping pretty good. Did we wake you?”

“No, just woke up.”

Shawn's hand moves in your hair and he lifts your head as you sit up. The world feels slow, like time has stopped for a few minutes and it's trying to catch up again. The deck is warm and toasty, only Aly remains with the two of you.

“Let's go to bed.” Shawn stands and you look up at him. You've got sleepy limbs that feel heavy and sluggish. Shawn steps forward and puts an arm around your back and one under your legs, lifting you up carefully. It makes your heart stop. “I gotcha.”

“I can walk,” you yawn and he just chuckles.

“This is more fun though.”

“I'm right,” Aly whispers teasingly as he passes into the house, and Shawn looks back with a glare.

Shawn sets you down gently on the bed and goes to close the door. “Do you want to sleep on the side with the wall or the open side?”

“Open side.” You sit up and grab your bag that has your pajamas in it.

“Perfect I like the wall side.” He walks toward you and pulls his sweater up over his head and for the first time you see him shirtless. It's like a punch to the gut. You knew he had to be fit, his arms and general figure gave that away. But to be as toned and straight up jacked as he is, you couldn't have guessed. “What are you staring at?” He laughs and leans over his bag to get a sleep shirt.

“You. All that,” you gesture up and down his body. “How?”

Shawn looks down at himself and chuckles. “I have a home gym. I've always worked out, it's a stress relief for me.”

“Well. GQ called they want to book you for a sexiest doctor of the year photoshoot.”

He laughs, full on belly laughs and walks over to you. “I'm glad you think so highly of me. You want me to sleep shirtless? I can.”

You nod.

“Okay, scoot over so I can get in.”

Shawn wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you back against him once you're both settled down. He kisses the back of your shoulder and you melt. The tenderness was too much. He felt so perfect against you, like you were made to fit the shape of his body.

“Is this okay?” He asks lowly, moving some of your hair out of his face. “I guess I just assumed you like to cuddle.”

“It's perfect. Ben never liked to cuddle much but I sleep best when I'm held.”

Shawn hums. “Alena didn't like being touched when she slept. It was hard because I'm very much a physical sleeper. What was Ben's problem?”

“He always said he got too hot.”

“Oh,” he noses your neck and you giggle. “We must be temperature compatible.”

“What's that?”

He chuckles. “Y'know, like you said, Ben was too hot. You and I must be the same temperature so we're comfortable being close. It's special.”

“Oh, yeah.” You press back against his chest and he puts his feet against yours. “Maybe it's because we were meant to be together.”

“I think so too. Now let's sleep, we don't want Santa to skip our house because we're awake.”

You giggle and he tightens his arm around your middle, sighing softly into your hair. He's everything you've ever wanted in a partner and you find yourself drifting off quickly

________________________

Christmas morning. You wake up early, far earlier than you should. It's a little after five in the morning when you sit up and realize the bed is empty save for yourself. Shawn's side is warm to the touch, and the bedding still smells faintly like his cologne. The door opens and dim light from the hall night light pours through the open doorway.

“Hey,” Shawn whispers lowly as he closes the door behind him. “What're you up for?”

“I dunno.”

The bed sinks under his weight as he crawls into his spot against the wall. He runs his hand over your stomach mindlessly and you scoot closer to him. “I probably woke you when I got up.”

You close your eyes and let yourself get lost in his touch. “I was sleeping so hard, I can't remember the last time I had such a good sleep.”

He chuckles. “Do you want to sleep a little longer? I'm up for cuddling for a while or we can get up and make coffee if you want. I'm sure my parents will be up soon too.”

Cuddling is tempting, but sleepy morning cuddling and exploration could quickly lead to more. This wasn't the place to do more. “Yeah, let's get up. I'm not tired anymore.”

Shawn crawls over you and hauls you up out of bed by your outstretched hands. You pull on one of his sweaters out of his bag on the floor and he smiles big. “Already wearing my clothes?”

“Yes.” You wrap your arms around yourself and smile. “They're much better than mine.”

Shawn pulls on a tee shirt and kisses your cheek. “I suppose I'll let it pass since you're so cute.”

The two of you head for the kitchen and turn on the lights behind the sink only. It's a soft light that's easier on the eyes than the overhead ones.

“Excited for Christmas presents?”

“Kind of? I have no idea what your mom could have gotten me.”

“It'll be a good surprise then. But I think you'll probably like it.”

You jump up on the counter, legs dangling against the cool cabinets. “You know what it is then?”

“I do. She texted me to find out what you like.”

“And what do I like?”

Shawn flips the lid closed on the old coffee pot in the corner and steps over to you. He wedges himself between your legs and plants his hands on the counter on either sides of your thighs. “Well, you like me.”

“She got me another Shawn? I dunno if I could handle two.”

“Ha ha.” He says with a smirk and you grin like a cat at your own joke. “You're so funny.”

“Tell me what she got me.”

“Never. It's a surprise.”

You bring your hands up and cup Shawn's face, cradling it ever so gently between them. “Would you tell me for a kiss?”

“That's dirty. You're playing unfair.”

You drop your eyes and lick your lips, giving him a look that has him pressing against you. “Tell me Shawn.”

Shawn leans in and you tilt your head back against the upper cabinets to avoid a kiss even though you want nothing more than to kiss him for hours. There were terms to be agreed to right now. His mouth passes yours and he kisses down your jaw, driving you insane.

“Sh-shawn,” you tremble as his hands go to yours, his mouth still placing kisses along your jaw and neck. “You're the one playing dirty now.”

“You have no idea how dirty I can't can get.”

You let out a little moan as he bites your neck over your tender pulse point. He soothes the bite with his tongue and you grab his hair, making him growl against you. He slides his hand up your shirt and you know things are getting out of hand.

“Uncle Shawn!”

Your heart stops and you look past Shawn to see Grace standing on the opposite side of the kitchen in her pony pajamas.

“Yes Grace?” Shawn asks, still facing you as he slides his hand out from under your shirt.

“Is she okay? Did she get hurt?”

“I'm okay Grace.” You smile and Shawn drops his head on your shoulder before turning to face the child. “Shawn and I were just talking.”

Grace walks over and Shawn picks her up. “Mom always has me sit on the counter when I need a band aid because I scrape my knees a lot. Are you sure?”

“Yes honey she's just fine. Why are you awake?” Shawn asks, bouncing her on his hip. “What if Santa hasn't come yet?”

“But there's presents under the tree. He's been here.”

Shawn leans over a little to see into the living room. “Well, I guess we should wake up your mom and grandma and grandpa then huh?”  

“Yeah!” Grace wiggles out of Shawn's hold and runs for the back of the house to get everyone.

“Kids,” Shawn sighs softly with a smile.

You reach out and grab Shawn's arm, running your hand up over his shoulder. “Can we talk later?”

Shawn slides his arms around you and lifts you off the counter, holding you to his chest. “Can we talk now?” He nips at your jaw and kisses across your face to meet your lips.

“No, everyone will be out here soon. Later,” you giggle, turning your head away from his kisses.

“What? I can't kiss you?”

“Later.” You smile cheekily. “Maybe I'll let you kiss me elsewhere too. It depends on what you got me for Christmas.”

“You think I got you something?”

“I know you did. You weren't slick trying to sneak that package out of your backpack when we got here. I saw you.”

He hangs his head and smiles. “It was supposed to be from Santa.”

“It still will be. I have no idea which one it is, so I suppose I'll have to guess.”

“I think you'll know.”

An hour later and gift opening is in full swing. Holly and Mike are parked on the sofa with coffee mugs and piles of presents around them that they will open last. Grace opens first, then Aly, Shawn and you. You volunteered to go last but as the guest they wouldn't hear it.

“Your turn Uncle Shawn!” Grace says, bringing him a little box that's wrapped with white shiny paper. It's the one from you.

“Thank you Grace.” Shawn inspects it carefully, shaking it a bit and you elbow him. “What? Is it from you?”

You roll your eyes.

“Snuck one in did you? I wonder what it could be.”

“Open it last.”

Shawn smiles and sets it aside, asking Grace for a different gift. Six boxes later and Shawn has opened everything from the family. He has a new pair of pajamas, boxers, socks with french fries on them from Grace, a new set of kitchen knives, a variety pack of teas from around the world and a gift card that Aly wrapped in four boxes for the laughs. It was finally time for your gift and suddenly you're nervous. What if it wasn't good enough?

Shawn opens the package slowly and pulls the top off the small box. Inside is a black slim leather wallet that he pulls out and holds up. He turns it over in his hands and looks at you. “It's beautiful, I needed a new one.”

“Open it.”

He opens it and inside there is a little blue SM embroidered on the first pocket opposite the brand insignia on the other side. “Oh wow, this is custom?”

“Yeah. It's not much, but I thought it was nice, and I know you needed a new one.”

“It's perfect.” He leans over and pulls you into a hug. “Thank you so much.”

Grace walks over with three boxes and puts them next to you. “Your turn!”

You look around nervously and open the first box slowly. Inside is a pink desk organizer with a built in file holder and pen cup. It's super cute and you smile at Shawn but he shakes his head. Not his gift.

Shawn gets up and grabs fresh coffee while you open the next gift and you know it's not from him if he was leaving for a moment. The next gift is a pair of snow boots. They're brown with soft white fuzzy fur trim, just your size too.

“These are perfect!” You hold them up as Shawn walks in with two mugs.

“I hope they're the right size. Shawn couldn't remember your exact size so I got the bigger of the two.” Holly says with a smile.

“No they're perfect. Thank you so much Holly. I've needed some new ones for a while now.”

“Mines next,” Shawn says softly and hands you the box wrapped in plain white paper. “I didn't have Christmas paper at home.”

“It's wrapped at least.” You take a drink of your coffee and place it next to you before tearing into the paper. It's in a shirt box and you lift the lid off to reveal a pile of tissue paper and two smaller boxes nestled into it. You open the first box to find a pair of rose gold earrings that look like little roses.

“Shawn!”

“Keep opening.”

The next box is a tennis bracelet of the same rose gold color and it has charms on it of a rose, a little stethoscope, a heart and a ducky. Tears well up in the corners of your eyes and you look at him. “You didn't have to do this.”

“You deserve it.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, his hand over yours. “They’re beautiful.”

“You're beautiful. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

________________________

Shawn has been dying to talk to you all morning since the interrupted...conversation. He has been all over you too, hand on your back, arms around your waist, kissing your cheek when you hand him something he needed to make the breakfast bake. He is so affectionate you think you're going to combust. The gentleness of every action and synchronization as the two of you move about the cramped kitchen helping Holly make breakfast feels unlike anything you have ever experienced with anyone else.

You eye Shawn as he bounces along to the Christmas music Grace is playing from her Barbie boombox in the living room. He's so cute, loose wavy curls falling in his face as he scrambles a bowl of eggs. To spend every day with him like this would be a dream.

“You got something on your lip,” Shawn says, pointing at your face. “I think it's whip cream from your cocoa.”

You wipe at it with the back of your hand. “Did I get it?”

“Nope,” he chuckles, steps over to you and swipes it off your upper lip under your nose. “There you go.” He pops his finger in his mouth and you smile as he grins at you, eyes playful. You're absolutely gone for him.

“Can we talk now?” he asks as he turns and puts the breakfast bake in the oven.

“Is something wrong?” Holly asks, looking over from where she's putting on a new pot of coffee.

“No, of course not. We just started a conversation this morning that got cut off by presents.”

“Oh.”

Shawn wipes his hands on a towel and grabs your hand. “We'll be on the deck mom,” he says and she waves him off.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” He asks with a smug look as he flips on the heater.

“Us?”

“Us?” He grabs your hands and walks you toward the swinging bench. “Is this about earlier?”

“Do you think this is a little fast?”

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“No, but I'm afraid we're rushing into this.”

Shawn's eyes search yours in the silence that consumes the deck. Only a light wind breaks the quiet as it blows against the covering that surrounds the structure. There is laughter from inside but you don't look away from the hazel eyes begging you to stay. Not that you were going anywhere any time soon.

“I heard you last night,” you say quietly and Shawn's eyebrows furrow. “When I was asleep on your lap out here. You admitted that you love me to Aly.”

“I did,” he looks down, face falling, “and it's foolish of me. I should know better than to let my heart rush into things.”

You bite your lip then smile unabashedly. “I guess I'm a fool then too. If you're okay with this, then I'm okay. I just needed to know if you were alright.”

“I'm more than alright with it.” He cups your face and leans in. His lips meet yours and they're soft and warm. He tastes a bit like coffee and caramel from earlier. Your heart feels like it's coming out of your chest and you can't stop the tears that start to run down your cheeks. Crying during a kiss, how embarrassing. His thumbs wipe over your tears and he stops, forehead against yours as his eyes meet yours in a panic.

“Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you smile and let out a little half sob. “I'm just so happy I can't stop it. I've never felt so safe and connected to someone before.”

“Gods you're perfect.” He wipes away a few more tears. “I think this feeling is what people mean when they talk about soulmates.”

________________________

After Christmas, things change dramatically. You and Shawn are officially together and you couldn't be happier. It feels like a dream as a month passes and the two of you spend every day together openly happy and affectionate. But the euphoria doesn't last forever. In fact, it can come crashing down in a matter of seconds when three words are uttered by the right person.

“Where's my husband?”

You look up from your desk in the clinic to see a tall, thin, dark haired woman about your age. She has a confused look on her face as she looks around behind you. “Ma'am? Can I help you?”

“Yes my husband works here. I'd like to speak with him.”

“Ma'am the only man here is Dr. Mendes and he isn't married. I think you've got the wrong office.”

“Yes! Shaw-”

“Can you restock room seven I just used all the-” Shawn freezes and you turn to look as him as he dries his hands on a wad of paper towels. “Alena.”

“Alena?”

The woman smiles and leans against the desk, arms folded on the top. “Shawn, you look amazing. How are you?”

Shawn let's out and nervous laugh and looks around as if he's not sure if he's really seeing this. “I'm just fine. What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you.”

You stand up and put your hands on the desk to keep your composure. “You'll need to make an appointment then,” you say through gritted teeth.

“I need an appointment to talk to my-”

“Yes.” You snap and Alena stops talking. “You need an appointment to talk to your ex husband. This is a clinic and he has patients to tend to right now.”

“Shawn, can you spare a few minutes? It's important.” Alena begs, dismissing you as she looks to Shawn.

“No. I have work to do. You can make an appointment or leave.” Shawn says, stepping closer to you. “My nurse here can schedule you.”

Alena scoffs and pushes off the desk and heads for the door. “I’ll find you after work then I guess.”

The moment the door closes you take a deep breath breath and let it out slowly. “Why?”

“Why what honey?” Shawn asks, hand going to your arm and rubbing to ease the tension rolling off of you in waves. “I don't know why she's here.”

“I don't like it.”

“I never took you for the jealous type. You do know it's over with me and her, right?”

You cut him and glare and he raises his eyebrows. “She's up to something. No one cheats on their husband, divorces him and runs off with a sugar daddy to the west coast just to return and want to just talk years later.”

Shawn steps closer and puts his arms around you. “Easy now. I know you want to defend me, but you should know I have no interest in her or whatever she has to say to me.” He looks down at you, eyes on yours. “I'm with you. Don't forget that.”

“I know.” You soften a bit, letting your shoulders slump. “I know. I'm sorry.”

He kisses your temple. “Now, can you restock the paper towels in room seven? I need to go see Mr. Carter in room two.”

________________________

That evening you and Shawn leave together around five and head to the diner for dinner. It had become a Friday night tradition that the two of you went for dinner and drinks to end the week.

“So, what do you think Alena wants?”

“I don't know.” Shawn takes his coke from the waitress with a smile and takes a big drink. “I have nothing to say to her, and I don't want to hear anything she has to say to me.”

You nod. “I just know things ended bad and it wasn't a clean break on your part. I imagine seeing her must have triggered something in you after all this time.”

“It did. I thought I'd died and I was in hell. There is no scenario in my head where she would ever come back into my life and I would want her. I'm completely thrown for a loop right now.”

“You're not like... considering hearing her out? She was your wife and all. You have a history.”

Shawn reaches over the table and tips your chin up to look at him. “She was, and that's the past and it's completely over, mistakes made. I'm not a kid who thought he was in love anymore. I'm twenty seven and I'm absolutely in love with someone who couldn't hold a candle to her. I love you, and just you. Understand?”

“I understand.”

“Do you? Promise me you'll stop worrying and let me handle things with Alena.”

“I promise.” You hold your pinky finger out and he hooks it with his. “I will let you handle it.”

________________________

The weekend passes and you don't hear anything more about or from Alena. Somehow you can't help but wonder if she's playing some sort of mind games with Shawn. You hope he isn't texting her, or messaging her on Facebook or something. You find yourself worrying about it when you promised Shawn you wouldn't.  

Sunday morning you run to the store while Shawn goes to his sister's house to help her set up a playset for Grace that she got for Christmas. The clinic had run out of gauze and peroxide and the next shipment wasn't due until Monday afternoon. You round the corner to the health and beauty department and at the end of the isle you can see her. Alena.

You grab your gauze and peroxide before heading toward her as much as you don't want to. She is standing in front of the tampons that you need for your own stock at home. You take a deep breath and try to remain as anonymous as possible as you step in front of her for your item.

“You're Shawn's receptionist right?”

Fuck.

“Yeah, his nurse actually.”  You mumble as you drop the box of tampons into your hand basket.

“I don't like your attitude.”

You raise your eyebrows at that. “Excuse me?”

“Your attitude when I said I wanted to talk to Shawn on Friday. You're a pretty poor receptionist if you get that lippy with clients.”

You smile sickeningly sweet. “Well, see I'm not just Shawn's nurse, not receptionist, nurse. I'm his girlfriend. And when his cheating ex wife shows up demanding to see her husband, who is not her husband and hasn't been for oh, I dunno, five years now, saying she wants to talk to him, I get a little irritated. I'm sure you understand why I don't like you.”

“Oh, fucking his nurse? That's rich. You think you’re not just a bed warmer to him? How long have you been together? A few months?” Alena laughs and rolls her eyes at you. “Shawn and I have a very long history. We're basically soulmates, and I fucked up but he'll forgive me. Shawn's always forgiven me before, he loves me so much that the last five years will be like they never happened.”

“Shawn moved on.”

“Oh honey, you realize that you have no idea who he is right? Shawn and I have been together since we were sixteen years old. You think he's just going to forget all that? For some nurse?”

You grit your teeth and swallow thickly. “He isn't going to take you back. You should just leave.”

“He will. I know just how to get to him, to remind him of where he belongs. Start packing your bags now if you don't like it sweetheart. You're going to see a lot more of me around here.”

You swallow thickly. How do you respond to that? She was actually crazy. “You have a good day, Alena,” you smile and turn to walk away. She says something else but you don't hear her. This was some bullshit and you needed to let Shawn know what was going on before Alena got to him.

________________________

 “Am I a bed warmer?”

Shawn shifts in bed, pushing himself up off his stomach to look at you. “What?

“Am I a bed warmer? Just someone to pass the time until Alena came back.”

“Honey, what are you talking about? Of course you're not.” He sits up and brushes your hair back against the pillow. “I would never do that to anyone, and especially not you. I love you.”

You close your eyes and remain quiet as you hold back tears. He sounds so hurt that you would ask something like that. To be fair, you didn't think he would ever do that, but you couldn't help but want to know, to want reassurance.

“Talk to me. Where is this coming from?”

“I ran into Alena at the store and she-”

“You ran into her here in town?”

“Yeah.”

Shawn makes a disgusted noise. “She must really want something if she's staying in town. I have no idea what she-”

“She wants you. It's pretty clear.”

“No I got that, but I don't understand why. What did she say to you?”

You sigh and he lays down, arm around your middle, head on your shoulder. “She thinks I'm just a bed warmer and that you're her soulmate and you're going to magically forgive her for everything because you have a long history.”

“Absolutely not. I wouldn't forgive her for anything. What she did was disgusting and I don't care if we have known each other for one or one hundred years. I won't take her back under any circumstances. I've moved on and found happiness.” He kisses your neck tenderly. “I've found the love I've always wanted. If she wants to talk about soulmates, then she should start with you and I.”

You turn and he holds you against his chest as you press your face into his shoulder. He threads his finger into your hair and holds you close.

“I promise I'll take care of this situation. She's gone too far and upset you directly. I'll tell her to leave or I'm getting a restraining order.”

“You think that will work?”

“I'm sure it will.”

________________________

You and Shawn are in a room cleaning up after putting stitches in the hand of one of the bartenders from the place by the park. He had slammed a glass into the corner of the bar while turning too quickly. It broke in his hand and resulted with his coworker bringing him in frantically for a stitch job.

“Have you heard from Alena?” You ask as you put some gauze into a biohazard box on the wall.

“No. I'm not sure if I should be afraid or relived.”

“You're not considering anything are you?”

Shawn looks over at you from where he's getting down new alcohol wipes to replace the ones you used. “Like what?”

“Hearing her out.”

He chuckles but you don't find anything about the conversation funny. “You're worrying too much.”

“I would understand if you wanted to y'know. The two of you were married and stuff so-”

Shawn presses his finger to your lips and you look down at his hand. “Stop. I love you, and only you. I swear nothing she tries to say or do will get me to change my mind.”

“Are you sure about-”

“Hello?” A lady’s voice calls from beyond the patient room and you look to the doorway.

Shawn drops his finger from your lips closes his eyes, leaning against the counter as you exit the room to go greet the patient. It must be the three o'clock appointment arriving early.

“Hello, sorry I was just-”

“Hello.” Alena smiles as she turns and she is holding a toddler on her hip. A little boy who looks to be about three or four. “I have an appointment with Dr. Mendes at three? It's for my son, Dakota.”

You grit your teeth until they ache as you look down at the computer. Sure enough. Dakota Moore. “For Moore?”

“Yes. That's him.”

“I'll let Dr. Mendes know you're here. I'll see if he is willing to take an early appointment.” You turn and go down the hall to the room you just exited, closing the door behind you softly.

“What’s wrong?”

“She has a kid.”

“What? Who?”

“Alena.”

“What do you mean she has a kid?”

You cross your arms and let out a little laugh of disbelief. “Yeah. A kid, she has a kid. That's who the appointment is for. A fucking kid Shawn.”

“It's not mine.” Shawn leans on the counter with the sink, facing the cabinet above, knuckles white around the wood edges of the smooth top. “It can't be mine.”

“No, it can't be. The kid looks to be about three or four.” You step forward and lay your hand between his shoulder blades. “Shawn, breathe.”

“She’s going to say it's mine. I know her. This is her angle, this is what she wants. I could just skin  her.”

“Easy there big guy. Remember, there is a child here, and this is a professional setting. Keep your temper in check. Just go through with the appointment and see what she says.”

Shawn turns and your hand falls from his back. He kisses you gently, his hand on your cheek. “I'll be professional, but I may need my nurse's help today.”

“Of course, I'd be happy to assist you Doctor Mendes,” you smirk playfully.

“Why's it so hot when you say it?”

“Because you're hopelessly in love with me and I could say anything in that voice and you'd think it's hot.”

Shawn kisses you again and then goes to the door, inviting Alena and Dakota back to the room for their appointment.

Alena remains civil for the majority of the check up. Shawn has you type up symptoms and general information while she answers Shawn's questions and explains that she just wanted to bring Dakota in for a check up since it's been a while since his last one and his ear has been bothering him. It's not until Shawn has decided a diagnosis and is writing up a prescription for an ear infection medication that Alena decides to make her move.

“Y'know his dad used to get ear infections a lot. I wonder if it's hereditary.”

Shawn pauses his writing and you watch him close his eyes and take a deep breath. “Alena. I know what you're trying to insinuate.” He turns and hands her the prescription.

“Excuse me?”

“You're here because you want to convince me that Dakota is my son right?”

“He does look like you doesn't he?” She fluffs Dakota's dark mop of hair.

“No.”

“Well he should, because he is your son.”

Shawn sighs heavily. “Alena, stop. You know full well this child isn't mine.”

“But he is.”

“If he's my child I want a DNA test.”

Alena's jaw drops. “What...how could you even say that?”

You narrow your eyes at her from behind the computer. The lying little skeevie wench wasn't going to get away with this plan of hers.

“Either you prove to me that Dakota is my son, or you leave me alone. And don't you ever, say a word to my girlfriend again. You can speak to me, lie to me, whatever. But don't ever talk to her again.” Shawn crosses his arms and stares her down.

“I didn't say-”

Shawn raises his eyebrows. “I know you talked to her. She isn't like you, she communicates with me when something bothers her. Besides, if you're sure Dakota is mine, what are you worried about? I just want proof. I'm not sure how a three year old could be mine though when we've been split up for almost five years.”

Alena looks panicked, caught in her lies. Did she really think that you wouldn't tell Shawn about the supermarket run in? “I-I just wanted to get help with Dakota. I moved back to Southgate in hopes you would be there and if you were single I was going to see if you wanted to give it another shot.”

“Right. Well I'm not. So now you can leave Twin Pines and go back to Southgate. I'm not interested in seeing you or your son again. I have no business with you since he's not mine.”

“But Dakota needs a good primary physician and-”

Shawn holds his hand up. “There are plenty of physicians in Southgate.”

“But-”

“Alena. Stop. It's over. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to see you. I have my own life here and I'm very happy. If you continue to interfere I'll take legal action.”

Dakota squeals and tosses a toy car across the room. Alena picks him up and stuffs the prescription Shawn wrote up in her pocket. “Have a nice life Shawn,” she spits as she leaves in a fit of anger.  

Shawn turns to you and he looks drained. “I told you I'd take care of it.”

“You sure did. Wow.” You stand and wrap your arms around him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He lets out a deep breath and lays his chin on your head. “That was hard, but I'm okay.”

________________________

Two days until Valentine's Day and you find yourself in a pawn shop in downtown Southgate. You want to get Shawn a guitar because it's been since Christmas that you've wanted to hear him play. The shop has a good selection of gently used ones and as you browse you can't help but think they just aren't what you're looking for. Until you see it. Sitting in the corner behind the counter there is one propped against its case. It looks kind of old, well used. It kind of looks like Shawn's old one.

“Can I see that?” You ask, pointing to the dark blue and red guitar on the floor.

“That? It needs some body work but I can cut you a deal.” The employee sets it on the counter for you and you look over the body. “We just got it in, someone traded with with some other stuff they were cleaning out. It's got a case and everything.”

“How much?”

“Hundred dollars? It's pretty beat up but the mechanics and setup is still good. A little TLC it'll be like new.”

You turn it over and on the base of the neck is carved initials. SM. It's Shawn's. There is absolutely no doubt about it. Giving Shawn a guitar for Valentine's Day was one thing, but to give him his first guitar back on Valentine's Day? He's going to cry. You pay the seller and take it in its case home. It would be perfect.

________________________

Valentine's Day. You're so ready to give Shawn his guitar. You've been antsy since you got it, thrilled with how perfect of a gift it is. You wake up and he isn't there. Strange. His side of the bed is cold. A moment of panic runs through you. No. This wasn't Ben. This was Shawn. He's probably just in the bathroom.

You get up and wander into the kitchen. No breakfast is made. You peek into the bathroom and it's a little steamy, condensation on the mirror. He showered. Where the hell was he? You go into the living room and sitting there is a big pink unmarked box. “Shawn?” You look around, expecting him to jump out. “Hello?”

You lift the box up and sitting there is a fully assembled Barbie dream house just like the one you wanted as a child. You can't help the grin that spreads across your face.

“You're up!” Shawn exclaims as he closes the front door behind him. “I figured you'd be asleep a while longer.”

“Shawn! You- I- how dare you upstage me!”

He laughs and sets down his bag from the grocery store. “I’m sorry?”

You turn and go to the hall closet. You grab the guitar case and bring it out. “You upstaged me! I got you this! And it was supposed to be this huge surprise because it's what we talked about at Christmas but you upstaged me.”

Shawn walks toward you and grabs the case with shaky hands. “Honey, you didn't have to do this.”

He looks at the case and you can tell, he has an idea of what's inside. “Oh my God.”

“Open it.”

“No...there's no way. You couldn't have gotten this.”

You grin big, pushing it at him. “Open it Shawn.”

He unclips the side latches and folds the top open to reveal his guitar. He falls to his knees and lays it down beside himself, lifting the guitar out and running his fingers over the strings. “How did you get it? How? I sold this ages ago!”

“I was shopping for one and found it in the pawn shop. I couldn't believe it either. It's like it was meant to be.”

Shawn stands. He's got tears in his eyes as he cups your jaw, and kisses you lovingly. “This is way better than a ring. I definitely didn't upstage you.”

“A ring?”

“You didn't...oh...fuck.”

You pull back and hold his shoulders. “What is going on? What ring?”

“You didn't open the elevator on the dream house did you?”

“No? You walked in right as I took the box off of it.” You circle the couch and kneel down in front of the house, pressing the elevator button. It chimes and the elevator stops at the top. Inside there is a little black box. “Shawn...Shawn no.”

“Open it.”

You grab the box and hold it against your chest. “I can't! I can't open it! No, no ,no!”

Shawn comes around and kneels down in front of you. He brushes your hair back and you look at him. “Open it please.”

You shake your head, biting back tears.

He reaches for it and prys it from your hands. He opens the top and reveals a beautiful gold ring with a diamond studded rose focal. It's easily the most incredible piece of jewelry you've ever seen and matches your Christmas gifts and favorite scrubs perfectly. “Will you marry me?”

“You can't be serious!”

“I am,” he laughs holding it out for you. “I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I want to marry you and have babies with you and be a family. I want to wake up to your beautiful face every single day and tell you I love you because you are the single most important person who has ever walked into my life. I know I've rushed into marriage before, and I know it bit me in the ass. But you and I have a bond like no other and I can't wait to make you happy every single day.”

You take the ring with shaky hands, plucking it from the box. “You're sure though, like for real?”

“Yes.”

The ring fits over your finger perfectly and you stare at it with a little smile. “Then yes, I'd love to marry you Shawn.”

Shawn surges forward and wraps his arms around you, knocking the two of you back on to the floor. “I Iove you.”

“I love you too.”

“I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Me neither. One day at a time right?”

He grin and kisses you softly. “One day at a time.”

End.

[therandomfics]

Circles: 3

Things with Peter had seemed to accelerate once you’d both admitted that you had true feelings for one another. It seemed cliche and made you incredibly uncomfortable when you thought about how much of a stereotype you were becoming. Damaged girl meets class act boy, falls in love, hides feelings due to traumatic past, but in the end it’s all sunshine and rainbows. 

Unless it wasn’t. 

Your relationship with the handsome former MLB player was going so well, in fact, that a few weeks after you’d shared your feelings he asked if you wanted to move in with him. It was conveniently timed as your lease was up soon, and you’d begun to feel even more connected to Peter. 

In a bold move, you’d begun packing and had informed your landlord that you’d be moving out at the end of the month. You kept the days in check on your calendar and found yourself growing giddy at the thought of moving in with him. 

“But what if I snore really loud?” you’d asked one evening, your head in his lap as he brushed your hair back from your face. 

“You do.” His answer was factual but he laughed despite the preciseness of his response. 

You gasped and swatted at his hands to prevent him from touching you. “That’s a lie. You’re the one who snores, honestly. It’s so bad. It’s like I live in the woods of the Pacific Northwest and you’re a lumberjack who works overtime to meet his tree quota.” 

He rolled his eyes dismissively and stood up, sliding you off of the couch and onto the floor in one swift movement. “You’ve thought long and hard about how you were going to describe that, didn’t you?” 

From the floor, you poked your bottom lip out and grumbled loudly. “I can’t believe you just left me down here.” 

Peter was silent until he came back into the living room with a bottle of wine and two glasses, sitting on the floor next to you with a thud. “I came back.” 

“How sweet of you,” you replied dryly, but accepted the glass he handed you and took a sip of the bitter red wine he poured for you. 

“Kind of hard to believe in just two weeks you’re going to be living here. We’ve already got movers ready, and your apartment is back up for rent. I even cleared out half of the closet for you,” he explained and carefully pulled you towards him with his arm around your shoulders. “Honestly I’m kind of nervous.” 

“Nervous why?” you asked and peered up at him curiously. 

He shrugged and drank a little more from his glass before answering. “It’s a big step. A good step, but a big step. I think it’s normal to feel nervous. Aren’t you?” 

“No, not at all.” Your answer was too quick - and something in Peter’s eyes made you think that he was onto your games. But, if he knew, he didn’t say a word. How terrible would he feel if you told him that you’d become nearly sick thinking about moving in with him and how it was going to uproot your routine and your life. It was a selfish thought. If Peter cared enough for you to change his lifestyle for you, why weren’t you being just as open minded? 

Peter seemed like he was under more stress than usual when you saw him that evening. He was short but polite, almost as if he had something eating away at him that he wouldn’t say. The only thing that really struck you as odd was that he insisted that you stay in, and that he would prefer it be at your place even though nearly everything you owned was packed up and waiting to be shipped off to his apartment. 

“You seem like something’s really bothering you, and I know it’s probably work. I just want you to know that if there’s anything I can do to make your life easier, I’ll do it,” you reminded him as you wrapped up your paper plate takeout meal. 

He smiled meekly and placed his hand on yours. “I appreciate that, Y/N. I really appreciate how good you are to me and how much I can trust you and depend on you even when I feel like I’m a burden.” 

Your smile melted into a frown almost immediately. It was like he’d read your diary - or he had bugged your mind and was able to hear your every thought. “You’re never a burden. In fact, I truly enjoy helping you. It makes me happy to know I’m making you happy.” 

“Why are you frowning?” he asked, but you waved him off and stood up to clean up the night’s mess. 

“I just don’t like to see you sad.” 

“Can’t be happy all the time. That’s not reasonable.” 

You shrugged and leaned against the counter in your empty kitchen, folding your arms across your chest. “I know. But I’d like to think if I tried hard enough I could make you happy, infinitely.” 

“You already do, I promise...” he trailed off with a sigh and stood up, closing the space between your bodies so he could wrap you in his arms. “I love you, Y/N. I don’t mean to leave so suddenly but I’ve got a huge case I’m working on and it’s gonna take up some of my time - more than usual anyway. Please, please lock the door once I’m gone and don’t answer it if you don’t 100% know who it is. Alright?” 

“Okay, I’ll be extra cautious. Is there something I should be worried about?” You buried your face against his neck and pressed gentle kisses against his skin, lingering for a moment before you pulled away. 

“I..” he began, but stopped. “No, it’s just this case that’s got my mind working in overdrive and I just want you to be extra cautious. You’re one of the most important people in my life and I don’t want anything happening to you.” 

Communication with Peter had been somewhat spotty in the days leading up to your move. In fact, you’d only gotten one text back despite the few you’d sent him, and it was a very simple “okay” - very unlike him. You chalked it up to jitters, maybe he was worried about you moving in or maybe that case really was trying his patience. 

The day before you were scheduled to move in with Peter, you sat in your office at work and read the closed captioning on the television. There had been some sort of trafficking case that had gone terribly wrong and it looked like it ended in casualties. Several names were scrolling across the bottom of the screen as you continued reading, until one name in particular scrolled across the screen and appeared with a picture. 

Pamela Stone. 

You stood up from your desk and grabbed your cellphone, stepping outside into the hallway for privacy. 

“You’ve reached the voicemail of ADA Peter Stone. Please leave a message.” 

You hung up and immediately called his office. 

“ADA Peter Stone’s office. How may I help you?” Carmen greeted politely. 

“Carmen, it’s Y/N. Is Peter in his office?” Your heart was pounding in your ears and you felt like you were going to pass out onto the floor. 

“Y/N, I’m not sure if you heard...” she murmured into the phone. 

“I just.. yes, I heard. Please tell me he’s there? I can’t get up with him and I’m worried...” 

She sighed into the receiver. “I’m so sorry, but I haven’t seen him since yesterday. I haven’t been able to reach him, either.” 

“Okay.. thank you, Carmen. Have a good day. I’ll speak with you again soon.” 

Carmen reciprocated and you hung up the phone. 

You walked back into the office and marched immediately to your office manager’s desk. “I need to leave.” 

She looked up at you and gasped. “Oh honey you look like you seen a ghost!”

“Something like that. I’ll call you later,” you said and you turned on your heel to leave, listening to the popping of her gum as you grabbed your things and fled the office. 

Peter wasn’t at his apartment. In fact, it didn’t look like he’d been there in a few days. When you unlocked the door and stepped inside it felt empty - as if there hadn’t been a soul present in sometime. The dishes in the sink spoke volumes about his time spent at home. It indicated very little. You scribbled him a note that read 

Please call me. I’m so worried about you. I love you. x

And with that, you skipped over his office and went straight to SVU. Someone was bound to know where he was, and someone had to know what happened. Was this the case that he’d been talking about making him nervous? How did his sister, who was quite ill, end up in the middle of it all? Who would kill someone so innocent?

“May I help you?” the guard at the reception desk asked. 

“Hi, yes, I hope so. I’m looking for ADA Peter Stone,” you explained, taking a quick glance at your phone to see if he’d called you back. Nothing. 

“Ma’am, this isn’t the ADA’s office.” 

You gritted your teeth and smiled with a clenched jaw. “Yes, I know. But he wasn’t in his office nor at his home, and I know he’s the ADA for SVU. Can I speak with Lieutenant Benson?” 

He stood up and held his hand up to you to stay where you were. “Hang on, let me see if I can get someone to help you.” 

A few minutes later the Lieutenant came walking towards you and guided you back to her office. She said nothing as you walked past the desks of the working detectives who all looked like they were exhausted and defeated. 

“First of all, I just want to say it’s really nice to meet you finally, Y/N,” she said as she shut the door behind you and took a seat at her desk. 

“Thank you, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m sorry that I just showed up. I didn’t know where else to go, honestly,” you explained and wrung your hands in your lap absently. 

“I’m really sorry but Peter hasn’t been here, either.” 

You nodded to state that you understood and stayed silent. 

“When did you hear from him last?” 

“Yesterday morning. And then I saw on the news today when I was at work... about his sister...” you trailed off and began tapping your foot on the floor nervously. 

“After everything that happened last night, I wouldn’t be surprised if he needed some time.” 

“Oh, yes. I know. I just want to make sure that he’s okay.” 

On her desk, the Lieutenant’s phone rang. You glanced down just in time to see Peter’s name appear on the screen. 

“If you’ll excuse me for just a moment,” she said and shot up, heading into an interrogation room to take the call. 

You sighed in defeat. Peter was ignoring you. Fair enough, but it was a little too much for you to swallow at the time. While Benson was on her call with Peter, you silently left her office and the precinct. 

Once out on the street, you made one more phone call. 

“Doctor Harper? It’s Y/N. I know it’s not on schedule but I really need to see you, please.” 

[fairiesnova]

Closer

Re-uploading my old works #2. This is the 2nd fairy tail fanfic I’ve written. Warnings for alcohol 

Life was a bitch. It lures you in with hope and false promises only to leave you in a shitty bar moaning over your overdue rent.

“Another one hun?”

Lucy turned her attention from her drink to the bartender. A sweet woman named Mirajane worked the same nights Lucy was dragged to this bar by Natsu. Usually the two would spend hours chatting in-between Mira serving customers, but that wasn’t the case tonight. Tonight, Lucy was full of despair and she didn’t want to take her bitterness out on Mirajane.

“No, I should probably slow down a bit.” Lucy answered while forcing a smile.

“Yes you probably should,” Mira teased. "You’ve only been here for a hour and you're almost near your limit.”

Lucy blushed in embarrassment. Lucy isn’t a heavy drinker, but she did get carried away sometimes. After one particularly bad night, she asked Mira to limit her to no more than 5 drinks in one evening. It was usually rare for her to have more than 3 drinks, and never so early in the night. Mira knew this better than anyone which is why her expression changed from teasing to worried.

“Is everything okay Lucy? I haven’t seen you look this down in months?”

Lucy pushed her drink away while answering, “My landlord raised my rent again. I thought I could still afford it but Natsu’s birthday was around the time it was due, and I ended up spending too much on his gift. I couldn’t pay all of my rent, so I still have to pay a late fee as well as the rest of the amount.”

Mira leaned over the bar to squeeze Lucy’s hand in comfort. “Don’t worry Lucy, I’m sure everything will work out okay.”

She tried to smile back at her, but it came out more of a grimace. “I hope so. I really don’t want to go back to living with Natsu and the guys.” Lucy hopped off the bar stool. “Thanks for the talk Mirajane, but I probably shouldn’t stay so close to the bar. Drowning my worries in alcohol is too expensive. If I keep buying drinks, I’m going to end up homeless.”

“Well you could always get someone else to buy drinks for you.” Mira winked. “There’s plenty of guys and girls here that would buy every bottle off the shelf just to get a chance with you.”

Lucy laughed and waved her goodbye while she left the bar. She walked towards the crowd of swaying bodies hoping to find a head of pink hair, only to be blocked by the sheer number of people. The bar hired a band to play that night. Lucy never heard of them, but they must have been popular to draw such a large crowd. Nevertheless, Lucy looked around for a chair or stool she could stand on to get a better view.

“Lucy? Is that you?”

Lucy froze. A feeling of dread filled her stomach.

“Lucy.”

A soft hand reached out and touched her shoulder. She glanced at the person out of the corner of eye.

When she saw blue hair, she immediately turned away.

“Nope! Sorry, it looks like you got the wrong person.” She tried to walk away but the grip on her shoulder tightened.

“Lulu, I know that’s you.”

Lucy gritted her teeth and turned to face the other woman.

“Don’t call me that!” She hissed. “What do you want Juvia?”

Juvia looked shocked at her outburst before a look of understanding crossed her face. She played with the hem of her dark blue dress before answering. “Lulu isn’t still mad at Juvia, is she?”

Lucy crossed her arms. “It’s Lucy. And no, I’m not mad at you Juvia. Why would you think that?”

“Because you sound angry.” Juvia muttered. She let go of her dress to clasp Lucy’s hand in her own. “If Lucy isn’t angry with Juvia, then can they talk?”

Despite everything, Lucy still felt her heart flutter at the sight of her hand in Juvia’s. The other woman was looking at her with such a hopeful look, one that always caused butterflies to fly in Lucy’s stomach. That’s the same look Juvia had when she asked her out all those years ago.

“Fine, we can talk. But only for a few minutes.”

Juvia smiled and tighten her grip on the hand still clasped in hers. She led the blonde through the crowd and towards the door. Lucy noticed the awed looks people were giving Juvia but shrugged it off. Juvia always got strange looks when they went out.

The two stepped out of the front door and stopped in the parking lot.

“Juvia thinks you look really nice tonight Lucy.”

“Can you stop doing that.” Lucy muttered even though her traitorous cheeks warmed at the compliment.

“Stop doing what?”

“Talking in the 3rd person.”

Juvia tilted her head in confusion. “But you always liked it when I did that. You said it was cute.”

Lucy looked away. “That was 4 years ago Juvia, things change in that amount of time.”

A heavy silence fell before Juvia broke it. “So, you are upset with me.” Her somber tone made this seem more of a statement than a question.

“Well yeah a little.” Lucy let go of the other girl's hand while stepping backwards. “Can you blame me? I haven’t heard from you in 4 years Juvia.”

Juvia bit her lip. “I left you a text message.”

Those words made Lucy’s blood boil. Maybe it was the alcohol, combined with the stress she felt all week because of her landlord, but she felt something inside of her snap. “I loved you Juvia and you left without a word!” Lucy’s voice broke as she choked back tears. “You didn’t even say goodbye. Did our time together mean anything to you?”

“Lucy.” A hand reached out to re-intertwine their fingers. Juvia pulled her closer. “Lucy please look at me. Please!”

When Lucy finally faced her, she was surprised to find tears streaming down the bluenette’s face. “I never meant to hurt you Lulu.”

“Then why did you leave me?” Lucy whispered.

“To find myself.” Juvia whispered back. She tugged on Lucy’s hand again and pulled the other woman closer. She didn’t stop until Lucy was fully in her arms.

Then, she pressed her forehead against the blonde’s and started her story.

“Do you remember how we first met?”

Lucy couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “How could I forget? You thought I was flirting with the guy you liked so you followed me around for an entire week screaming that I was your ‘love rival’.”

Juvia hummed with a blush of embarrassment. “And do you remember what happened after that?”

“Yeah. I got tired of you stalking me, so I invited you over for dinner.”

“I never did ask you why you did that.”

“Because I thought you needed it.” Lucy smiled, getting lost in her memories. “It was the start of our first year at university. Everyone was so nervous and trying to make friends. I thought that maybe you wanted friends too, but you didn’t know how to get them.”

The blush on Juvia’s cheeks darkened. “Lucy, that was the first time anyone had ever done anything nice for me. I never had a friend before, and I never received such kindness from a stranger. We formed a bond that night which caused strange thoughts to irrupt within me. I kept thinking that I wanted to be more like you. Kind, caring, compassionate, beautiful. I thought that if I could be all those things, I would finally be happy. I keep trying to get close to you, so I could learn how to be all those things, but then something within me changed. I started to enjoy spending time with you. And then I started to fall in love with you. I thought that someone like you could never fall for someone like me, but to my surprise, you did.” Juvia paused in her story to let out a joyless smile at the shocked look on Lucy’s face. “I was ecstatic when we started going out. I was so in love with you Lucy, please believe me on that. But then those thoughts start to plague my mind again. I couldn’t understand why such a beautiful and amazing person like you would have feelings for someone like me. I figured it was only a matter of time before you realized you could do better than me. I realized that the only way to better myself would be to go on a soul-searching journey to figure out who I was. I didn’t think I would be gone for so long but obviously I was wrong.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Lucy interrupted. She knew that Juvia struggled with insecurities, but she never imagined that it affected her that much. The realization that her girlfriend was fighting internal battles without Lucy being there to offer support hurt her deeply.

“I didn’t want you to realize how imperfect I was.” It was then that Lucy realized she was crying again. “But it doesn’t matter now. It’s been 4 years Lucy and I’m still the broken mess I was when I left. I haven’t changed or grown at all. I thought leaving would save our relationship but all I did was make you hate me.”

“Juvia! Our relationship was never in danger!” Lucy leaned in close to brush her lips against Juvia’s. “And I could never hate you.”

Juvia froze. “But you’re upset with me!”

“Of course, I’m upset with you! You should have told me about all this.” Lucy wrapped her arms around Juvia’s waist. “I’m not perfect either Juvia. No one is. And we’re still young! I don’t think anyone truly knows who they are at our age. And that’s okay because we have plenty of time to figure it out.” She squeezed their hands. “And we could do that together Juvia. You don’t have to do things on your own anymore.”

“Lucy…” Juvia whispered before pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Lucy.”

“I know.” Lucy whispered back.

In that moment, everything surrounding the two disappeared. The parking lot, the music from the bar, even the stress that had been bottling up inside of Lucy vanished. At that moment, nothing existed outside the two women trying to get back what was broken years ago.

“Hold me close tonight; even if it is just for tonight. Please Juvia, I need to feel you.”

“Lulu,” Juvia smiled. “I finally have you back in my arms. I’m never letting you go again.”