#i’ve been meaning to catch up on my to do list since last monday.... it’s SUNDAY

[middleearthpixie]

Human Touch ~ Chapter One

A/N: This is the follow up to Playing With Fire, but can be read as a standalone. I thought Frerin deserved a nice, steamy romp just like his older brother got with Leda, so this is his story. I know I’ve got like three other fics to update, but I thought maybe I’d throw this out there and see what everyone thought of it… 

Summary: Frerin Durin had the perfect life, until he found out his wife was cheating on him. Now, he’s navigating uncharted territory as an about-to-be divorced single dad. Dating is a mess, he’s dealing with the fallout where his kids are concerned, and really, he would just love a vacation away from all of it. 

Elena Madison is new to Sidleburg, new to the history department at the high school, and also navigating life as a newly single parent. The last thing she needed was for her daughter to come down sick, when she hasn’t even had time to unpack the moving boxes, never mind find a pediatrician. And the last thing she ever expected was to meet a man like Dr. Frerin Durin…

Neither Elena nor Frerin were looking for anything, but fate has a way of messing up even the best laid plans. However, both have been hurt and both aren't at all sure they trust themselves, never mind trusting someone else...

Pairings:  Modern!Frerin  x OFC Elena Madison

Characters: Frerin, Elena, Alyssa, Nurse Angela Hart, Nurse Leigh Addams

Warnings: None (yet)

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.1k

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @sorisooyaa @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @buckybarnes-thorin @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @albionscastle @absentmindeduniverse @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

I know I ain’t nobody’s bargain, but hell, a little touch-up and a little paint ~ Bruce Springsteen

December 15

Monday night, 2:50AM

“Dr. Durin?”

Frerin rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, but we just got a call from the ER. They need you down there.”

“What time is it, Leigh?”

“Ten to three.”

He bit back a groan as he sat up. He was getting too old for being yanked out of bed in the middle of the night. “Okay. I’m coming. What is it?”

“A six year old with exposure.”

“Exposure?”

“That’s what they said.”

He slid down from the bed where he was tying to catch some sleep in the on call room, and grabbed his white coat from the foot of it. “What the hell was a six year old doing out in this?” He gestured to the sleet pounding against the window. 

“I don’t know,” Nurse Leigh Addams shook her head as he joined her in the hallway. The lights were softer than normal, since it was the middle of the night, but he was still mole-eyed. 

“Damn it, do you know where I left my steth?”

“Take mine, but give it back.” She reached up to drape it around his neck, then gave him a gentle push. “Go.”

“I’m going.” He rubbed his eyes as he turned to make his way to the elevators. The pediatric unit was on the eighth floor, and fortunately, the elevator was quick. He was alone in the car, and all he could think about was getting a cup of coffee. Caffeine was a must when he worked the night shift. His days of being able to power through without it were firmly behind him.

The doors slid open and where the pediatric unit was fairly quiet at almost three in the morning, the ER was a bit busier and must’ve been for some time, judging by the sheer number of patients he saw. The rooms and curtain areas must’ve been at capacity, since there were nearly half a dozen patients on gurneys in the hallway as well. He moved by them, dodged paramedics clattering by with their stretchers, and at the main desk, said, “You called, Angela?”

Angela Hart smiled. “Dr. Durin, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you on nights.”

“Yeah, well, McArthur is out with the flu, so someone has to cover. Where is the frozen six year old?”

“Paramedics are rolling up now.”

He rubbed his eyes again. “Is there coffee in the lounge?”

“There should be, but it might be from the day shift.”

“It’s caffeine. I don’t care if I have to chew it. Let me know when the kid’s back.” 

The lounge was directly across from the main desk, and thank Christ the coffee seemed fresh. He poured a cup, raided the fridge for half and half, only to find nothing but flavored creamers. He wrinkled his nose, but grabbed the French vanilla and poured it into the cup. 

“Frerin,” Angela poked her head into the lounge, “your boy is in Trauma One.”

“Okay.” He swallowed a mouthful of coffee, winced as it scalded its way down his throat, and then he set the cup on the table. “I’m coming.”

Trauma One was down the short hallway and to his right, one of three in the ER, as they were the county trauma center when Robert Wood Johnson University Hospital was too far for transport. He hadn’t spent much time in the ER lately, but had spent enough that he knew the ER docs and nurses, they knew him, and they all worked well together. 

“Okay,” he said as he came into the room, “give me the bullet…”

“Mom?”

Elena Madison bit back a groan at her daughter’s whisper. “What is it, Alyssa?”

“I don't feel well.”

Elena lifted her head to squint at the clock. Three-thirty in the morning. She reached over to switch on the lamp. “What’s wrong?”

“My throat really hurts and I can’t get warm and everything hurts.”

“Do you want to sleep here, with me?”

“Can I?”

“Come on.”

Alyssa climbed up into the bed and snuggled up against her. Heat wafted from her daughter’s body, hot enough that Elena laid a hand on her forehead. “How long have you been feeling like this?”

“A while. I felt funny when I was doing my homework, but thought I was just tired. But now… I really feel awful.”

“Let me see if I can find the thermometer. It might not be unpacked yet.”

Alyssa squinted at the light and nodded. “Okay.”

Elena frowned. Alyssa looked pale. Almost chalk-white, actually. The flu was going around at Sidleburg High, where she was a freshman. Oh, she hoped it wasn't that. They’d only been in town a few days, she hadn’t had time to find any kind of doctors yet and didn't even know where the nearest medimerge was.

Still, she got up and padded into the bathroom, where she searched for the digital thermometer. Luck was on her side. It was tucked into her makeup bag. 

She brought it back to her bedroom. “Under your tongue, peanut.”

Alyssa nodded as she opened her mouth and let Elena slip the thermometer under her tongue.  Then, she sat very quietly, just resting her head against Elena’s shoulder until the thermometer beeped.

Alyssa pulled it out and frowned. “One-oh-two, Mom.”

“Okay, tell you what, why don’t you just stay here and try to get some sleep and if it gets any higher, we’ll run to the ER?”

Alyssa winced. “Everything just hurts… I don't even want to lay down.”

Elena sighed softly. “Do you want to go see a doctor?”

“Will it help?”

“I don't know. It’s probably just the flu, but it might not be, either.” Elena gently pressed her hand to Alyssa’s forehead only to have her flinch and jerk back with a muted cry. “Okay. We’ll go over to the ER. Let me throw some clothes on, okay?”

Alyssa nodded and gingerly lay down to curl into the fetal position. “Okay.”

Elena grabbed a hoodie to tug on over her tee shirt, The leggings she had on would suffice, so she tugged on thick socks and her work boots, ran a brush through her hair and tugged it up into a hasty bun. “Ready, honey?”

Alyssa nodded slowly, sitting up with a wince. “My hair hurts.”

“Yeah, fevers do that. Come on.” Elena eased an arm about Alyssa’s waist and gently helped her to her feet. “Let me just grab my keys and we can go.”

Outside, Alyssa sucked in a sharp breath. “The snow hurts…”

“I know, baby, I know. I’ll have the car warmed up in a jiffy, I promise.” She helped Alyssa around to the passenger side of her Accord and gingerly fastened the seat belt. “Just close your eyes and try to sleep a little if you can. We’ll be there in a few minutes, if I don't get lost.”

“Try not to get lost, Mom.”

“I’ll do my best, Sarge.”

That earned her a weak smile and she pressed a light kiss into Alyssa’s hot forehead. Then, she closed the car door, skirted the car’s nose, and sank into the driver’s seat. 

The advantage to trying to find Sidleberg Memorial Hospital in the dead of night was there wasn’t a lot of traffic. The downside? She still didn't know exactly where it was and even with the GPS, it took her longer than she would have liked to find it. But finally, she swung the car into the driveway, looped around to pull up in front of the big revolving door leading to the ER.

“We’re here, honey. Let’s get you inside and I’ll move the car, okay?”

Alyssa nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“Good. Come on, baby, small steps. We’re almost there.”

“I’m so cold…”

Elena came around to grab her about the waist. It might have only been her imagination, but it seemed more heat radiated from her daughter than before and she shivered as well now. “Easy, honey. We’re almost there.”

“I just want to lay down, Mom.”

“I know. Soon.” She nudged the door with her hip to close it, then slowly walked Alyssa into the brightly lit waiting room and guided her over to a chair. “I’ll be right back.”

Alyssa nodded, curling into a ball once more. “Okay, Mom.”

Elena crossed to the reception desk, where the nurse sat behind a plexiglass wall. “How can I help you?”

“I think my daughter has the flu, but her temperature has really shot up in the last half hour. It was one-oh-two when we left and I think it’s gone up.”

“Her name?”

“Alyssa Madison.”

“Date of birth?”

Elena gave her the information, dug out her insurance card, and waited as the nurse typed all of the info into the computer system. The nurse offered up a reassuring smile. “She’ll be brought back as soon as possible, Mrs. Madison.”

“Thank you.”

She went back to where Alyssa sat and not five minutes later, another nurse, in cranberry colored scrubs, came over to them with a wheelchair and a hospital bracelet. “Alyssa?”

“Yeah?” 

“I’m Carol, how are you feeling?”

“Like crap.” Alyssa looked over at Elena. “Sorry, Mom.”

“It’s okay.” Elena ruffled her hair. “You get a pass because you look like you feel like crap.”

Carol smiled. “I know, there’s a lot of flu going around.” She looked up at Elena. “Who is your pediatrician?”

“We don't have one yet. We’re new to the area.”

“Well, you’re in luck. We’ve got the head of the department here tonight and he’s really good. So,” she fastened the bracelet about Alyssa’s right wrist, “why don't we get you back into a bed and get you a nice heated blanket?”

“I’ve got to go move my car,” Elena said, gesturing to the black Accord still in front of the door. 

“That’s not a problem. Gloria will buzz you back and tell you where to find us. Don’t worry, Mom. We’ll keep an eye on her. Can you move over into the chair for me, Alyssa?”

“Sure.” 

As Alyssa moved, Elena went out to park her car in the parking deck. There was spot just beyond where the ambulances charged, and she quickly locked the doors and hurried back inside, where Gloria told her she’d find Alyssa in Room Six, and told her where she’d find Room Six.

Alyssa was dozing, looking almost as pale as the hospital linens and Carol was still there. “Her temp is one-oh-two-point-three. You made the right decision in bringing her in, Mom. Is she allergic to any anything?”

“Cashews,” Elena said with a slight smile as she cast a worried look over at her daughter. “They make her lips and tongue tingle and swell.”

“Is she on any medications?”

“No. She’s always been a healthy kid. Aside from finding out about the cashews, anyway.”

“And medical conditions? Heart or kidney problems?”

“No. Again, she’s a healthy kid.”

“Okay. We’re a little busy, but it shouldn’t take Dr. Durin long. If you want to watch television, the remote is on the tray.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

After Carol left, Elena sank into the single chair alongside Alyssa’s bed with a soft sigh, reaching up to rub one eye. It was nearly three-thirty. Thank God tomorrow was Saturday. She hated calling out sick when she’d only been there a few weeks, but would have had no choice if it was a weekday. She had no idea how long they would be there, and had no idea if Alyssa was sick with the flu or something worse, and she had no support system aside from herself. The last thing she wanted to do was call Alyssa’s father and even if she wanted to, there was no point. He and his girlfriend were in Aruba for the holidays.

She sighed softly, tucking her legs up under her and propped her head on her fist as CNN played softly on the television. 

She didn't know she’d dozed off until she heard a soft, “Mrs. Madison?” and felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

She jumped as if someone had shouted at her. “I’m up… I—I mean, I’m Mrs. Madison… yes…”

“Sorry. I tried to not to startle you.”

“No, it’s—it’s okay. I didn’t even know I fell asleep.” She rubbed her eyes slowly and squinted up to find herself looking at a rather tired-looking man in white lab coat with a hot pink stethoscope around his neck who moved to the box of latex exam gloves and tugged two free. 

“I’m Dr. Durin. This is your daughter,” he glanced down at the chart in his hand, “Alyssa?”

“Yes. I think she might have the flu, but I’m not sure. She’s had a cold for the last two days, but tonight started running a fever and it shot up pretty quickly.”

“Okay. You’re probably right, but I’ll check her just the same.” He set the chart down on the counter and pulled on the gloves. “You’re welcome to stay in the room, or if you want to step out, I’ll have a nurse come in, instead.”

“I’ll ask Alyssa.”

“Fair enough.” He smiled. “Don’t look so worried, Mom. She’s in good hands.”

“I didn't realize it was my worry was showing.”

“I can see it.” He moved closer to the bed and gave Alyssa a gentle shake. “Alyssa? Can you open your eyes for me?”

“What… who… who are?”

“I’m Dr. Durin. Mom said you’re sick? You think you might have the flu?”

“Maybe. I thought it was just a cold, but now… I’m freezing and the nurse said my fever got higher.”

“One-oh-two-point-three. Yeah, I’d say you’re definitely sick.” He touched the top of her head. “Does that hurt?”

“Everything hurts.”

“That’s the fever. We’ll give you some Tylenol to help, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now,” he lifted the stethoscope from around his neck to fit the earpieces in place, “do you want Mom to stay or would you rather Carol stay while I examine you?”

“Mom can stay.” Alyssa managed a slight smile. “I like your stethoscope. Pink is my favorite color.”

“Oh, yeah? This isn’t mine. Mine went missing, so I borrowed it from one of the nurses. I think she has a purple one, too.”

“I didn't know they came in different colors.”

“They do, indeed. You name the color, you can find one in it.” He warmed the diaphragm part of the stethoscope between his palms, then slid it beneath her hospital gown, bringing his free hand up to hold a finger to his lips for minute. Then, he moved it, saying, “Take a deep breath for me?”

She did. He moved it again. “Another, please.”

She did and he slid the stethoscope free. “Can you sit forward for me, Alyssa?”

She nodded and did, then began coughing. He waited until she finished. “Do you need a drink?”

She shook her head. “I’m okay, Dr. Durin.”

“Okay.” He pressed the stethoscope to her back. “Again, a deep breath for me.”  

She did and then he tugged the ear pieces from his ears and draped the stethoscope around his neck once more. “Okay. You can lie back,” before picking up her chart to make a notation. “Your lungs sound clear and that’s a good thing.”

She sighed softly as she sank into the pillow. “What color is yours?”

“My steth? I’m afraid it’s boring gray.” 

“You should get a pink one.”

Elena pressed her lips together to hold back her smile as Dr. Durin said, “You think so? It wouldn’t make me look dorky?”

Alyssa shook her head. “I don't think so.”

“I’ll think about it.” He set her chart on the tray table and brought his hands to her neck, feeling around and under her jaw. “Glands are a little swollen. Do you have a sore throat?”

“It’s a little scratchy. It was worse yesterday.”

“How much worse?”

“It felt like razor blades.”

“How old are you, Alyssa?”

“I’ll be fourteen on the twenty-ninth.”

“Yeah? My daughter’s about your age. Are you a freshman?”

“Yeah.”

“So’s Maura. How do you like school?”

“I like everything but algebra.”

“I hated algebra myself. I like Chem and Bio. Anytime there was a chance I could blow something up, I was there.”

Alyssa chuckled. “I can’t wait to take Chem.”

“Mom, how is she doing in school?”

“Don’t let her fool you. She’s a straight-A student.”

“Really? Good for you, Alyssa. Keep those grades up and get into a good college.” He took a pencil flashlight from his pocket. “Do me a favor? Follow the light with just your eyes, okay? Don’t turn your head.”

“I won’t.”

Elena tucked her legs back under her as Dr. Durin then shined the light in first Alyssa’s left eye, then her right, and then straightened to tuck the flashlight back in his coat pocket. “Okay. I’d like to draw some blood, Mom, if I can, just to rule out a few things. I think it’s flu, and lord knows we’ve seen enough of it, but I want to be sure, because she’s a little sensitive to the light.” 

He turned back to Elena. “It’s probably the fever, but we’ve also seen a few cases of meningitis, so I want to rule that out entirely.”

“That’ll show in a blood test?”

He nodded. “It can, so that’s where we’ll start.”

“Do I have to get a shot?”

He turned back to Alyssa. “No, I don't think so, but I do want to take some blood. I promise you, Carol has the lightest touch and you’ll barely even feel it, okay?”

Alyssa’s pale face went paler still. “I don't like needles.”

“It’s not really a needle, Alyssa. It’s smaller, and I promise, I’ll only take a little bit.” He patted her through the blanket then looked back at Elena, peeling the gloves off to toss in the trashcan. “Mom, can I have a word with you?”

Elena’s stomach curdled as she nodded and rose to follow him out of the exam room. “Is something wrong?”

“No. But, I’ll need your permission to draw the blood and if necessary, to do a lumbar puncture.”

“A what?”

“A spinal tap. But,” he held out a hand as she opened her mouth to protest, “that’s only if the bloodwork comes up inconclusive. So, it’s a last resort, I promise. I do think’s it’s the flu, but like I said, we’ve had a few cases of meningitis and I don't want to risk it.”

She sighed softly, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear. “I suppose. I hate the idea of a spinal tap, though.”

“It’s only if I can’t rule it out through the bloodwork. And I’d give her plenty of local anesthetic so she wouldn’t feel much.”

Elena sighed again. She supposed at one time, she’d have wished Alyssa’s father was there, helping her make the tough decisions. But then she remembered that the reason she was there alone because he didn't care about making any decisions with her or being a team. He was far more interested if where he could stick his cock next.

So, slowly, and not at all certain she was making the right decision, she nodded. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Madison,” he told her with a hint of a smile. “I’ve done more of these than I can count and she won’t feel it. I promise.”

“Do I look that worried?”

“A little.”

“I’m sorry… I just… I just thought it was a cold and then—”

“It’s been a rough flu season, and like I said, that’s probably what this is. I just want to be sure.”

“I know.” She peered around the doorway at Alyssa, who looked even younger now, her eyes closed, and she fought back a sigh. “But… that’s my kid.”

“I know.” He smiled. “I’ve got three of my own and I would react the same way if I was in your shoes. But, I promise you, Mrs. Madison, I won’t do it unless I have to.”

She looked back at him. “Okay. But, if you were me, would you agree to it?”

“I would. If it’s something like meningitis, you don't want to play around with it.”

“I know that. I do. I’m mostly a rational adult person, but—”

“It’s different when it’s your kid.”

Elena nodded, rubbing her forehead with one hand as she sighed softly for at least the third time. She couldn’t remember the last time she was so damn tired. “It’s different when it’s your kid. And I already hate being in the ER for something like this, but we don’t have a pediatrician yet and I don't even know if there’s a medimerge type place anywhere in town.”

“It’s okay that you brought her here.” He reached out to touch her shoulder. “It’s better to be safe than sorry. In all honesty, I do think it’s just the flu. I just prefer to err on the side of caution. So, I’ll have Carol come in and do the draw and when the results come in, I’ll come find you, okay? The cafeteria is closed, unfortunately, but there is a coffee machine just down the hallway if you could use a boost.”

She managed a slight laugh. “There isn’t enough caffeine in the world for a night like this.”

“I know. I’ve been there. Like I said, I’ve got three kids and they never get sick at good times. But, she’s in good hands. I promise.”

Elena nodded and rubbed her eyes this time. They stung with a fury and she really just wanted to curl up in a ball and let them close. But, since she couldn’t, she lowered her hand to look up at him  “I know.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I have the results of her bloodwork. You can use your cell in here if you want to call your husband.”

“There is no husband. It’s just me and Alyssa.”

“Okay, well… if there’s anything you need, just let Carol know, okay?”

“I will. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He smiled and then started off down the hallway. She stood there for a moment, just watching, and then berated herself silently since it was not the time to be thinking about how beautiful his blue-gray eyes were. Not when she was waiting to find out if Alyssa had meningitis or not.

So with a sigh, she went back into the room and back to her chair, where Alyssa offered up a tired smile and said, “I like him, Mom. He’s nicer than Dr. Garrett was. Cuter, too.”

“Alyssa.”

“Oh, tell me he isn’t.”

“I thought you were sick?”

Alyssa tugged the blanket back up to her chin. “Mom, you could totally land a doctor. Dad would stew in envy if you did.”

“I’m not looking to land anyone, Alyssa. Especially not tonight.”

“I’m just saying. You could.”

“Alyssa?” Carol tapped softly on the door and came into the room. “Dr. Durin asked me to draw some blood.”

Alyssa went paler still as she nodded. “If you have to.”

“Mom, I just need you to sign the consent form and then we’ll get started.”

Elena looked over the form and sighed as Carol tugged on a pair of gloves and unwrapped the kit. Alyssa held out her left hand. “Mommy?”

Mommy. Elena couldn't remember the last time Alyssa called her that. Without hesitation, Elena caught Alyssa’s hand and whispered, “It’ll be fine, peanut,” as Carol tied the rubber tubing about Alyssa’s right arm. Alyssa sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers tightening about Elena’s, and Elena kept whispering, “It’s okay, sweetie.”

“All done,” Carol said, untying the tourniquet and pressing a small piece of gauze into the crook of Alyssa’s arm. She unwrapped a Band-Aid and pressed that over the gauze. “Try to get some sleep, Alyssa. Hopefully the results won’t take long, but you never know. We’re crazy busy tonight and I have no idea how backed up the lab might be.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course. Do you need anything?”

“No, we’re fine.” Elena looked over at Alyssa, who was already asleep. “I just need her to get better.”

“She will. And Dr. Durin will be in as soon as the results are in as well.”

“Thank you again.”

Carol smiled and left with the vials, and a few minutes later, despite her uncomfortable position, Elena managed to doze off as well. 

[their-destinys-writer]

The Trials of Confessing - Chapter 5

Rated: Teen

Chapters: 5/5

Ao3 / Wattpad

For additional content and behind the scenes, support me on Patreon. I also take Ko-fi.  

A/N: Now that this story is complete, I've been working on another one that's already five chapters ahead in Patreon called Akuma Flashpoint. It's a canon divergent reality warp AU, where Marinette gets transported into a different reality where everything has gone wrong. Main pairing being Ladrien. If it sounds intriguing, you can start reading it right now! But if you're willing to wait, the first chapter will be out publicly on August 28th, and will update every last Monday of the month. In the meantime, enjoy this last chapter!

First | Previous

Adrien felt his senses go numb. He then understood why she had seemed so out of it after they encountered Lila. Her words must’ve gotten to Marinette. However, what was more shocking was knowing that such an amazing girl like Marinette felt so strongly about him. And what was terrifying was the potential of having to break her heart.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner,” she sobbed. “But after everything you’ve been through, I rather be there for you instead of being part of the problem. Maybe now you can at least cross me off the list and find your true love.”

Adrien let out a shuddered breath. “You know about the list?” He felt Marinette nod against his shoulder.

“Alya is convinced that I’m the girl you keep talking about.” She slowly pulled away, wiping away snot. “All because the very day you said that thing about the love of your life, I had happened to decide to confess to you. But that could’ve just being a coincidence, because I’ve said that so many times, yet always chickened out.”

Many times? Adrien pondered. “Marinette,” he said, “how long have you felt this way?”

“U-um.” Marinette placed a hand on her arm, averting her gaze. “Since almost the beginning. You were just so kind when I thought you were a jerk. Even though I made assumptions about you, you still treated me with respect, so different from how Chloé treated me. That’s how I knew you were nothing like her. And over time... I’m sorry, it’s not important. Just cross me off the list.”

“How are you so sure you’re not the girl I’ve talked about?” Adrien rushed to say.

“Because!” Marinette’s arms flailed. “What are the chances, right? There’s no way I’m that lucky. I mean, if I am, it changes so much between us, and it would mean that things have been so much more complicated between us, and there’s a chance of other consequences—”

“We’ll cross that bridge if we get there,” he insisted. “Just say or do what you were gonna do before this whole mess. Don’t just ask me to cross you off without even trying.”

The girl stared at him, as if he had grown a second head. Adrien frowned. Was there something on his face? Did he say something wrong? Marinette gasped, right before saying: “I have something for you—Whoa!”

She pulled something out of her purse, but it slipped off her hand. When she tried catching it, she instead ended up hitting it with her palm, making it fly off to the street. She was about to run to it, when several vehicles drove by and squashed it. Adrien slapped a hand to his mouth, and Marinette let out a screamed ‘NO!’ with her hand hopelessly extended in the direction of the lost gift.

The two of them stared at the mush on the pavement for several seconds, as if hoping they could turn back time and stop the small packet from ever leaving the purse. After finally processing the disaster that happened, Marinette slapped her hands to her face and groaned.

“This is like the premiere all over again!” she cried. “Can’t even give a damn macaron without it being a disaster. Ugh, he’s gonna hate me when he finds out.”

“When who finds out?” Adrien asked when he finally found his voice.

“My friend!” Marinette responded. “He’s the reason I was determined this time. I promised him I’d confess to you, but it had to be done in a specific way, and that includes the gift. But now I don’t have it!”

“Marinette,” Adrien said, taking her hands, his heart starting to beat louder, “you said something about a macaron. Was that what the gift was?”

“Yes. One passion fruit macaron, your favorite. Or at least I think that’s your favorite, but Lila made me doubt my instincts. But that’s not even the important part of the gift.”

“Then what was?” He could feel his heart slam hard against his ribcage, almost ready to burst out.

“The package,” she said. Adrien’s breath hitched. “I designed it myself. It was… special. I needed to give you that along with my confession, but now I’ve ruined it.”

“Not necessarily!” Adrien blurted out. “What was the design? Do you have it with you?”

“No,” she sighed. But almost immediately lit up. “Oh! I have a small notebook I use sometimes when I can’t take my sketchbook with me. I can recreate it!”

Marinette let go of Adrien and was quickly rummaging through her purse. She gave him a blue pen to hold while she pulled out the pocket-sized sketchbook. Just as she dislodged it, there was a honk from the street. When they turned to it, they saw Adrien’s ride, and from it, Nathalie exited.

“Good, I was about to call you,” she said the second she saw him. “Adrien, your father needs you to come home early.”

“What? Why?” Adrien asked, taking a step back, already seeing his hopes and dreams flutter away.

“It has come to your father’s attention that there have been several incidents these days in school, and he feels you’re currently not safe here. We’re taking you home until a press conference can be made on the matter.”

“Seriously?” Adrien said, cursing his father’s timing. “Can you give me another minute? Marinette needs to do something important right now.”

“I’m afraid your father wants you home now.”

He desperately turned to Marinette. “Can you do it fast?”

“I-I, um, I-I—”

“Adrien, we have to go now,” Nathalie insisted.

He looked at Marinette, hoping she would suddenly come up with what was probably exactly what he wanted to see. But from the look of it, she didn’t seem ready to fight. She looked more exhausted than courageous in that moment. And the last thing Adrien wanted was to push her too far.

“I’m sorry,” he said, to which Marinette softly nodded. “Maybe—”

“Adrien,” Nathalie called. It was then that he noticed some of the girls walking down the school’s front steps, watching his father’s assistant like vultures waiting for dinner.

He let out an irritated sigh. “I’m not crossing you off the list,” Adrien said, as he walked backwards towards the car. “Not yet. We’ll finish this later. I promise. Bring a new one tomorrow!”

The car door closed, but he continued staring out of the window. Marinette awkwardly waved, and he immediately returned the gesture. He couldn’t help but notice how some of the other girls seemed to have noticed their exchange, if their death-stares towards Marinette was anything to go by. He winced, hoping he hadn’t just accidentally thrown her to the lions.

And yet, he couldn’t help but hope that, perhaps, he had just become the luckiest guy in the world.

* * *

Worst. Afternoon. EVER.

That was how Marinette would describe her day after Adrien left. Every girl that had witnessed his departure, talking about the list, felt the need to make her miserable one way or the other. The most common were the stares of murderous intentions. Others were far more creative or intrusive, from the passive-aggressive comments to a yogurt she managed to narrowly dodge.

The consensus among them was the same: she was tricking Adrien. Somehow. Oh, and that she was a terrible friend, unlike Lila, apparently.

When it was time to patrol, Marinette didn’t feel like going. She was emotionally drained. But at the same time, she could use the comfort from her partner. Yet, in the end, her sense of duty won out, and she was off, soaring across the rooftops of the city. Trying not to dwell too much in her awful day.

Ladybug landed on the meeting spot, about two meters away from Chat Noir. She bit her lip, still thinking about the hoard of scary fangirls, still wondering how to break the news to her partner. After a deep breath, she approached him. It wasn’t until she was almost next to him that she noticed he was humming a song.

She cleared her throat. “Evening, Chat Noir.”

The boy quickly turned to her, a wide smile on his face. “Good evening to you too, M’Lady.”

“You seem happy today,” she commented, as she sat down next to him.

“I had a very interesting day,” he said. “What about you? How was your day?”

“It was—” Ladybug had been about to say ‘fine,’ but was immediately attacked by memories of the day. “Ugh, it was a complete disaster.”

“Why? What happened?” he asked, sliding an inch closer to her.

“I confessed.” Ladybug covered her face. “And it couldn’t have gone worse. Not only did I cry during my confession, but I lost the gift! My clumsy civilian self somehow managed to get it under three cars and a truck. It was crushed and ruined. He must’ve been so confused. And probably thinks I’m just like any other girl, going after him for the wrong reasons.”

“Eugh, that does sound bad,” Chat Noir said. Sounding a bit too calm, for Ladybug’s taste. There was a pun coming, she could feel it.

“Total disaster,” she said, attempting to sway the conversation from whatever he was planning on saying. “He did ask me to bring a new version of the gift tomorrow, so I guess that’s something. He didn’t completely turn me down.”

“That is something.” Chat Noir said, nodding as he checked his pockets. “I guess you’ll just have to write off today.”

The boy presented her with a pen. Ladybug blinked, right before giving Chat Noir the most unimpressed look she had ever given him.

“Oh my gosh, now you bring stuff to make your puns?” she scolded.

Chat Noir laughed. “Nah, I just think you could use this particular pen.”

“Honestly, Chat.” Ladybug shook her head, suddenly regretting opening herself up to him. “I’m basically pouring my heart out here, being vulnerable to you, and all you can think about is making a joke?”

“Ladybug, just look at the pen,” he pleaded, suddenly far quieter than when he made the joke.

“Yes, I see it.” Ladybug snatched the pen from his hand. “It’s a normal, cheap—” But she stopped. For it was not a normal, cheap blue pen in her hands.

It was a pen with a hole in it. The very hole Chat Noir punctured to it the night they made their deal. The pen that was supposed to be in her purse, yet for some reason, Chat Noir had just given it back to her.

“Wh-Where did you get this?” she asked, any sign of anger gone, but having a hard time breathing properly. When she looked at her partner, he wasn’t smirking, or even flirty. In fact, he almost seemed shy, for the first time since she met him.

“You kinda gave it to me today,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “You were taking your sketchbook out of your purse and gave me the pen while you were taking it out. It wasn’t until I got home that I realized I still had it in my hand. And that was when I recognized it as the one you used to create the design for the macaron package. It was a passion fruit macaron that you made, right? My favorite pastry? Not quiche, by the way.”

Ladybug gasped, and almost immediately let out a shuddered breath. She remembered taking the pen out and giving it to Adrien. She never asked for it back, now that she thought about it. And yet, there it was in her hands, as a gift from her superhero partner, who had many times proclaimed his love for her.

“So, um, now that we kno—Oof!” Chat Noir’s words were cut off by Ladybug, who had thrown her arms around him and was giving him the tightest hug she could muster. Slowly, he returned the gesture.

“You were right,” she said, as happy tears trailed down her cheeks. “This whole time you were right. And I’m so glad you were.”

“You are?”

“I know, right?!” Ladybug pulled away, taking his face in her hands. “I used to laugh at the idea, but the more I thought about, it just seemed so perfect. I am so happy it’s you. Adrien.”

The second she said his name, Chat Noir gave her the biggest grin she had ever seen from him. 

“And I’m so happy that the girl I’ve been in love with this whole time is you, Marinette,” he said.

The sound of her real name sent goosebumps through her body. Or maybe it was the fact that he had taken her hand as he said it. Or perhaps it was the intense look he was giving her, asking the very question she had been about to ask. Instead, she responded his, slowly leaning towards him.

“Wait.” Chat Noir placed two fingers on her lips. “Before that, I have a question: If you were in love with Adrien-me, how come you said that you loved Chat Noir-me?”

Ladybug let out a muffled whine. The very thing she didn’t want him to ask, was the very first thing he asked. She backed away, averting her gaze from him.

“I-I, um, was trying to hide my identity. And I didn’t have time to think of a proper distraction, so I said that.”

“Oh,” Chat Noir uttered. “So, you didn’t mean it?”

“Well, not in the romantic sense,” she explained. “Though, if it makes you feel any better, I was upset that you showed up. It made me think your feelings for Ladybug-me were shallow. But then you went and rejected Marinette-me for Ladybug-me, so I almost celebrated in front of papa. Then I had to pretend I was actually upset, but I was just celebrating in my room. Because your feelings were real. And I’m gonna stop talking because you’re looking at me funny.”

Chat Noir had his index over his lips, with an unreadable expression.

“So,” he started, “what you’re saying is, that you were jealous of yourself?” He finished with a mischievous grin.

Ladybug sputtered. “That’s not—No! I was not jealous! Why would I be jealous? There was nothing to be jealous about. I mean, clearly, you were very loyal to me. Notthatitmattered!”

“It sounds like it mattered a lot,” Chat Noir purred.

“I-I... Urgh, fine. Yes,” Ladybug relented. “I may have, on occasion, wondered what it would have been like if Adrien—you, I realize—hadn’t been in the picture. Then maybe, who knows what could’ve happened between us.”

“Oh.” The skin underneath Chat Noir’s mask turned scarlet. “Now I do feel better.”

“I can see that,” she teased, feeling slightly more confident thanks to his reaction.

“I guess that makes us even,” he countered.

“Even?”

“Mhm.” Chat Noir nodded. “You don’t know this, buuut, I may or may not have had a tiny, little, itty-bitty crush on a classmate I nickname our Everyday-Ladybug.”

“Wait, what?!”

“What can I say, I have a thing for girls who stand up to bullies.”

“Didn’t your dad say you weren’t interested in anyone, and to leave you alone?”

“Nooo, please don’t remind me.” Chat Noir covered his face. “That press conference was one of the most embarrassing things I’ve ever been a part of. And I’m not easily embarrassed! I’ve walked in high heels and a pink skirt. I would dress in a banana costume, if I have to. But having my father talk about my relationship issues to the press? Freaking kill me.”

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t so bad,” Ladybug giggled. “It was more hilarious seeing a grown man think he has a grasp on teenage relationships, which he clearly doesn’t.”

“Wait, that reminds me, are you okay?” he suddenly asked, uncovering his face. “I saw those girls giving you death-stares when I left. They didn’t do anything to you, did they?”

“Oh, just a lot of passive-aggressive comments about how I’m a horrible friend, and that Lila would never do that.”

“Lila what?” Chat Noir said, bewildered. “What the heck does Lila have to do with any of this.”

“You know how she is,” Ladybug said, with a sigh. “The same thing she said earlier about real friends, she repeated it with the fanclub outside. Now I’m the girl who’s trying to trick you into thinking I’m the love of your life.”

“But you are the love of my life,” Chat Noir retorted. It wasn’t until Ladybug’s cheeks became warm, that he seemed to have noticed the weight of what he had just said. To her face. With their identities revealed. “Uh, I hope you already knew that.”

“Y-Yeah,” she responded, trying her best not to smile too wide. “I-It was pretty clear, with what you t-told Nino. A-And me, when you didn’t know you were talking to Ladybug, and just talking to Marinette-me.”

“R-Right.” Chat Noir went quiet, the red under his mask becoming slightly darker.

Ladybug took a deep breath, before saying: “You know you’re the love of my life, too, right?”

His head snapped towards her, with an expression of surprise, that quickly turned into a giddy smile. “Wasn’t sure, but it’s such a relief to hear.”

“It’s a relief to say it so openly,” she admitted. “I just don’t know what to do now. Much less knowing what awaits us tomorrow.”

“Hmm.” Chat Noir rubbed his chin. “I think I have an idea.”

* * *

Today was the day. And this time, hopefully the other girls had been scared off by his father’s sneers at the camera the previous day. Hopefully they at least got the message that they angered a powerful man. Hopefully they realized the error of their ways. Hopefully—

“Morning, Adrien!” the voice of Christie said as he entered the front doors to the school.

Adrien resisted all urge to whimper. “May I help you in something?”

“Here,” she said, presenting him with a small box. “I got you this quiche. I know it’s your favorite.”

“It’s not my favorite,” he responded automatically. “And whoever told you that lied.”

Christie stared expressionless, with the box still extended towards him. When she didn’t react, Adrien asked if there was anything else she needed. With the question, she seemed to come out of her stuper.

“Yes,” she responded. “I’m sorry I’ve failed, but can’t you see we’re meant to be? I’m clearly the girl you’re looking for! No other girl has tried as hard as me.”

“You just don’t get it, do you,” Adrien retorted, his patience already gone. “You can try all you want, but you’re just not the one. It’s not about how much you try, it’s about actually being the girl. A girl I already know and talk to, and who confirmed to me that she hasn’t given me the gift yet.”

“What’s even so special about this girl?!” Christie bellowed. “If she actually cared about you, she would’ve been with you in the first place. She would’ve already come out and snatch you up. Yet here we are—”

“Yeah, here we are,” Adrien snapped back. “She got so afraid I would confuse her with you bunch, she decided not to confess and be part of the problem.”

“What do you mean the problem?!”

“This! Right here! A bunch of girls asking me out for all the wrong reasons!”

“But I actually love you! Unlike the other girls!”

“If you actually—!”

“Excuse me.” The sweet, wonderful voice of Marinette interrupted his train of thought. Adrien and Christie turned to her. Although her tone had been low, Adrien could see the fire of anger and determination in her eyes. He melted, almost missing what she was saying. “I was waiting in the locker room to talk to you about something, but it was taking you a bit long, so decided to come to you instead—”

“Sorry, Marinette,” Christie interjected. “We’re busy at the moment, in case you missed it.”

“No, we’re not,” Adrien shot back. “Marinette, I’m all ears. What is it?”

Even thought he already knew what was coming, he could still feel ladybugs in his stomach, along with his heart giving excited beats.

“Here.” Marinette took his hand, and in it placed a small green and black package. “I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner, but the other girls scared me. I wanted to say that I’m in love with you, Adrien. Ever since that day under the rain, when you showed me kindness, and that you were not the jerk I thought you were. I made a passion fruit macaron, your favorite pastry, in a special package I designed myself—”

“Wow, you really are a tricky minsk,” Christie interrupted. “You’re such an awful friend to Adrien. You really think—”

“This is my favorite pastry!” Adrien said loudly. “But more importantly, this package has the exact design the girl I’m in love with drew.” He took out the piece of paper Ladybug had given him the night of the deal. “Marinette, you’re the girl I’m in love with!”

Marinette cringed. “This felt a lot more embarrassing than when we talked about it yesterday. Imma go—”

“Nono, don’t go!” Adrien rushed to grab her hand, as she had started backing away. “Sorry, I just hadn’t expected for the girls to try again after the press conference yesterday. But please don’t leave me.”

“Can’t you see she’s abusing of her knowledge as a friend?” Christie desperately said next to him. “She doesn’t mean it.”

“Marinette, would you allow me to do something crazy right now?” he asked, entwining his fingers with hers.

Marinette’s lips turned from an ‘o’ shape to a soft smile. “How can I say no to those kitty eyes of yours?”

Adrien heard Christie comment something about his eyes actually being puppy eyes, but he ignored her. In favor of closing the gap between him and Marinette into a soft kiss. There were several gasps around them. He knew more people had just bear witnessed to their first memorable kiss. But he didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was the girl who’s hand he was squeezing.

When their lips parted, he noticed Marinette’s face was pleasantly pink. He took a stray hair of hers and tucked it behind her ear.

“I’ll remember this,” he whispered.

There was a sudden cheer, followed by a loud ‘I KNEW IT!’ from what sounded like Alya. Adrien pulled away enough to see most of the girls from their classroom high-fiving each other, while Alya ran towards them.

“I told you!” she cheered. “I told you you were the girl he was talking about! And you kept saying ‘nooo, there’s no way it’s me, nooo, it’s a total coincidence I made this very specific gift the very day some girl is supposed to give some very specific gift to Adrien.’ Ha! Coincidence my butt!”

“Alya,” Marinette half-heartedly scolded.

“Wait, no!” Christie said, stepping between Alya and the couple. “No, no, this is a misunderstanding. Adrien, I know Marinette has been stalking you and investigating you. She knows more about you than the fanclub put together. Honestly, it’s creepy. She even has hundreds of pictures of you.”

“Right, the pictures!” Adrien raised a finger, right before leaning towards Marinette, their noses almost touching. “Care to comment on the pictures, Bugginette?”

“Bugginette?” Alya and Christie said at the same time.

Meanwhile, Marinette did a very familiar move he had never seen in her civilian face: she rolled her eyes. Adrien’s heart jumped out of its place.

“You’ve just lost all your kissing privileges for today,” she said, walking away. Yet she stopped for a second to look back at him, a glint in her eye.

Adrien grinned. “Aww come on,” he called, following her, completely ignoring the other two girls. “This is not what we agreed on yesterday. You promised me at least three kisses.”

He knew anyone who heard them had no idea what was happening. Had no idea of when they suddenly became so close, to the point of having inside jokes and nicknames. But he didn’t care. He only cared about the giddy laugh Marinette let out when he caught on to her. The quiet whispers about their homework and about patrol after school.

The promise that what they had was real, and that no obstacle in the world could get in their way.

---

First | Previous

[pinklily7749]

A July work week

Saturday, July 23rd, 2022:

Today, I met up with my friend at 9.30AM for a bakery run for some chocolate almond croissants. It’s been a while since I’ve done anything during the early hours of Saturday morning that doesn’t involve looking at properties. I am looking at some today but both are in the afternoon.

I enjoyed my driving this morning. It was raining but I didn’t mind getting out early to meet my friend and enjoy the small things in life.

Arrived at the local bakery and her boyfriend was going to come chill out for a bit with us too but we would go op shopping without him. We all picked up some chocolate almond croissants but they also had many other delicious bakery goods there!

We then drove to a local op shop and spent some time there. I managed to pick up a very nice coat and I may wear it to an event coming up. I just got to figure out how to dry clean this coat. I usually also look at second hand books here but I didn’t manage to find any that I wanted to buy.

I then did a little window shopping at Betts since I’ve been eyeing these high boots that were on sale but decided to see in store (the ‘Gina’ boots) but sadly they are sold out. What a bummer!

Afterwards, I dropped by the 2pm house inspection and another one at 3pm. I am eyeing the second place now and plan to buy it. I asked them if the vendor can accept offers that are lower than the advertised cost. It makes me realise that we are definitely in a buyer’s market at the moment if I can ask these types of questions because I have seen properties drop down their advertised costs some time after the initial inspection. Not only does it meet all my must haves, it is also a 2min walk to shopping centre, 1min walk to a bus stop, has a bathroom downstairs, is about 12min drive from universities (so I can think about renting it off in the future), 10km from my workplace and the property is fairly new (under four years old). The place has exceeded my expectations. The only downside is there is no garage and only a car port, has a small kitchen and is not located near my family. I am hoping to speak with the real estate agent on Monday and ask them if I can buy via private sale and have a condition on the contract according to finance. I am scared but also very excited.

Sunday, July 24th, 2022:

Today was a less productive day. I woke up at 8.30AM but somehow woke up again and it was 11.30AM. Today is one of those days.

I just chilled around the house with my family but then at 3PM decided to do a little drive because I work from home and it usually means I want to get out and about on the weekend. The only downside is the high costs of petrol at the moment.

Decided to do my nails with a light pink colour and it turned out very cute. This is probably a purchase I need to cut out once I start paying for my mortgage I think. It’s something new that I have done since I have started living this single life.

It was getting dark already and had to stop by the supermarket to pick up some toilet paper, sandwiches, milk and ham for my family since both of my parents are unwell this weekend. Thankfully, toilet paper is cheap at this shopping centre this weekend, how lucky!

Today was just a day I needed to mentally catch up with myself after getting out of isolation last weekend. I am still going to crowded places but am a bit more weary now and am wearing face masks everywhere in crowded spots again.

Monday, July 25th, 2022:

Today is one of those days where I woke up and knew I had to power through a bunch of tasks. There’s no better way to start the week then powering through a bunch of things on the first day of the week.

There were a few parts lists that I was working on today. We also had a team meeting and I had another meeting with my team lead to see if I was on the right direction for the parts lists. Since I have a forty hour week, it is no excuse to not get a lot of things done in a day.

The real estate still hasn’t called me back today but I have had some real estates who call me back on a Tuesday to see how I felt about a property over the weekend. I am still eyeing this property but am trying to not get too attached emotionally to it because then I don’t want to make decisions that I will regret.

After work, I felt like it was time to do a clean up of myself like waxing my legs and plucking the hairs off to shape my eye-brows, my upper lip and my face. I feel like winter is become lazy in taking care in this part of myself.

Anyways, the team is having our Lessons Learnt at an offline location at a hotel conference room tomorrow.

Tuesday, July 26th, 2022:

Today my team is having a Lessons Learnt Day at a hotel in Richmond. Since the work day started off later than usual at 9.30AM, the morning commute today didn’t feel as hectic as it normally world.

I looped around the streets around the hotel a few times but I only found a bunch of 2 hour parking spots. So I thought I’d just make my way into the hotel and park there and just pay the $25 per day. Since I’ve started working at this workplace, I have started to pay a lot of parking costs around the eastern suburbs.

The Lessons Learnt Day started off with a little bit of fun by the team playing ‘Two truths one lie’ to break the ice. I’ve been at this company for eight months now but it has felt like a lot longer because I have spent a lot of nights working till midnight (which is a habit I have stopped now). I’ve started to understand more about the project now.

At lunch, we had a catered lunch at the buffet section of the hotel. Finances must have paid a lot for the team to have our Lessons Learnt here at this hotel. The food was really good and I love the fish that they served. I also got to know another team mate because he recently came back from working in Canberra and recently just bought a house. It was nice to speak with someone who also had the stress of working in another state and going back and forth during this pandemic.

Overall, I thought the day was nice but in reality, I think for the project to be successful, plans just need to be made in detailed and advanced. I hope management are able to incorporate the discussion notes into their plans.

On the way home from work, I started listening to the audiobook “A Little Life” which is an 800 page book about a group of friends and the main character is someone who has physical/psychological trauma and a disability. So far it is a good book. Listening to audiobooks during my car rides have become some of my favourites memories this year.

Today I saw that the property I was eyeing had dropped it advertised cost. Just what I had expected. However the real estate still hasn’t called me but because they are changing the ad, maybe they are just busy? I sent them a request if they have the contract available. It is intense waiting for a response and am not sure when it is appropriate to give them a call. This is the first time dealing with this real estate agent who is this unresponsive.

Wednesday, July 27th, 2022:

Just realised I did not write a journal entry for Wednesday.

Thursday, July 28th, 2022:

Today, I came into the office because there is a company Happy Hour at 5PM today. I haven’t hung out personally with many people at my workplace yet. I felt like it was good to come in today. 

Because my team mate wasn’t in the office this week, I felt like more people at work approached me at my desk today to ask questions. I feel like they were less intimidated with me being surrounded by less people near my desk space.

At lunch, I went to this Japanese restaurant close by to work called Hakata Gensuke. I think it is one of the best Japanese restaurants in Melbourne so I am glad that it is close by to work. The food was delicious and I would totally come back to it!.

At about 5PM today, I headed off to the pub without another engineer from work. She’s Vietnamese and is about the same age as me as well! At the pub, I caught up with another colleague and he was also from my previous work place so that was a nice little catch up. 

I parked nearby and the drive home wasn’t too bad at that time of night. I continued listening to the audiobook “A Little Life” but I felt like I was a little distracted today so I changed to listening to music halfway through the commute home.

I was distracted by the though of buying a house and why a particular guy won’t text me much throughout the week. I can’t believe I am feeling this. We are not in a relationship with each other and I should start listening to my advice that I just can’t expect people to text me and give me relationship reassurances throughout the week because we had never spoken those terms. It makes me sad but it is a reason of maybe why I was distracted on the way back home. I can always model the behaviour that I want to see from him, but what if he doesn’t want it this way? Sigh some communication needed I guess...

Friday, July 29th, 2022:

Today, I had a few things to do on my plate. I woke up really tired this morning and work has been starting to make me feel very exhausted in the week nowadays. I can’t wait for the weekend to start so I can chill.

I had to get my parts lists out the door today because the Procurement Team are getting very antsy. I also spent some part of my day today trying to get the contract off the real estate agent (finally because I had to call them... how annoying!) and then sending the contract to my mortgage broker and also to my property lawyer.

My sister’s flight from Tasmania landed at about 12.30PM today so I had an early lunch and then drove up to the airport to pick her up. The airport looked pretty quiet at lunch today. The weather was beautiful and I’m sad that I had spent most of it at my desk.

I received the report back from my property lawyer by COB today but not from my mortgage broker and their conveyancer yet. I do pay my property lawyer a lot more so they get things done a lot faster and in more detailed. You have to pay for the details I guess. I will read it later tonight and then think about it over the weekend.

Right now would be a good time to go out for a friday night drink to get my mind off things but I’ve been so busy today, and wish I had made some plans.

Saturday, July 30th, 2022:

Today, I had plans to meet up with a friend for high tea about brunch time. I didn’t have any houses that I wanted to inspect today. I also had that house on my mind and had a plan that I’d drive to the area after work and see what the area is like at night. That is what some people have suggested when you are able to make a house purchase.

High tea was lovely today. We also dropped by the HER bar today and it was my first time there. It was so nice to see the liveliness of the bar and the people. I ordered an apple gimlet and it was an interesting choice of a cocktail and would totally order it again! We also got a seat at the edge of the roof top so it was nice to also see the city scape.

Walked around a bit before dropping by a Hong Kong cafe/eatery for some cheese baked spaghetti with some meat chops. So yummy! There were also some Thai grocery store and street food like stall she took me to as well.

On the way back to my car, I dumbly found out that I had no idea where my parking ticket was. It is usually a habit for me to put it inside my phone case but because I was rushing this morning, I must have left it on my lap, stood up and walked outside the car and the ticket must have blown somewhere throughout the day. Ran frantically to the parking office but with only 10 minutes left of their opening hours, they didn’t answer my call. Went back to the ticket machine and called intercom and got through to them. Paid for a lost ticket.

Friend decided to kindly keep me company and also come up to see the house that was of interest to me. I have had more time to think about it more and I may again give this another miss. I think I was attracted by the shiny lights of where it was located just a 2min walk from a shopping centre. But now thinking about it more, I can see that I definitely need the space not only for a bigger kitchen with my dream kitchen island but also for a work environment at home since I predominantly work from home. All these coupled needs and also maybe couples all these nice to have ideals (after this place) such as being near a shopping centre, nature area, bedroom+bathroom downstairs and be 10km from work just makes me think that maybe my standards are way too high! Hahaha. I hope I am able to find that place soon.

[phillipcole]

Post-AGT Appearance 1205: The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon June 6

George Shapiro would have peaked at 83 on the list of persons suspected of being the last name on Phillip’s sick list, then dropped out of the top 100 before his death.  No one would ask.  I would have been in the same room as Shapiro twice in 2015 but both times accompanied by someone sworn to make sure I didn’t meet him.  Eric Such would not have been in the top 100 individually, but the group Bon Jovi would still have been in 70th place at his death despite our repeated announcement that the last name is a person not a group.  No one would demand a reply.

The songs would continue to sink slowly. 

The Cheerleader Killings would have debuted in second place with $41 million the first week.  Top Gun Maverick would have led with $79 million.  Since we had expected better, our booking agents would force most of the cast to do more appearances and interviews.  Mine would be the first guest segment on The Tonight Show (one of the postponed interviews) on Monday night.

Fallon: Welcome back.  Thank you.  Welcome back.  Well, as most of you know, the top movie at the box office over the weekend, for the second week in a row, was Top Gun Maverick with $79 million.  In second place was The Cheerleader Killings at $41 million.  Joining us to talk about The Cheerleader Killings is the film’s producer, director, head writer and actor Phil Cole.

PBC: Thank you, thank you.

Fallon: Phil, great to see you, and in person this time.

PBC: 2 masks!

Fallon: The Fourth of July mask I see.

PBC: From Shacocouture, and underneath the jungle mask.  Collect the whole set.

Fallon: How many are there?

PBC: 855.

Fallon: Cleaning up with the pandemic, that’s great.  Now Phil, you’re here to talk about your new movie, number 2 in the nation...

PBC: Fourth worldwide.

Fallon: Oh, I didn’t know that.

PBC: Big hit in Japan, Australia, UK, Germany and Sweden.

Fallon: That’s impressive.

PBC: Thanks, I think so.

Fallon: So Phil, in the past 3 weeks on this show I have interviewed Amy Schumer, Tom Holland, Diana Agron, Seth Rogen, Corbin Bleu and Mark Harmon, plus...plus...we showed one of the full cheers.  They talked about the plot, the script, the cast, the cheers, the football, everything.

PBC: Good.

Fallon: What can you tell us about this movie that no one else has?

PBC: Uhhh...the budget.

Fallon: That was estimated at $85 million.

PBC: Is it?  They didn’t ask the guy writing the checks.

Fallon: Is it more than that?

PBC: It sure is ha ha ha ha ha.  That’s why I’m here tonight, trying to make a profit before the next week.

Fallon: So how much did it cost?

PBC: I’m still paying but...closer to $130 million.

Fallon: And you need the money for 855 more mask designs.

PBC: No, for my next movie Demon Dress.

Fallon: I heard things aren’t going well on that one.

PBC: We’re straightening things out.  We just had a new flareup of wildfires to delay some things, and we can’t work these into the script.

Fallon: Now, I’ve been meaning to ask you.  You did the fun little Attack of the flying Oysters and Attack of the Lysol Rabbit.  Now you change gears with a serial killer flick and Demon Dress sounds scary.  Is this a new dark streak in your career?

PBC: Not new.  I had the streak there all along.  It’s just that the flying oysters was a love story with the oysters as a catalyst to drive the characters together.  The Lysol Rabbit was a sidelight to a love triangle.

Fallon: There are a lot of angles in The Cheerleader Killings.

PBC: Yes indeed.

Fallon: And curves.

PBC: Angles and curves make the world go round.

Fallon: And I assume Demon Dress will have lots of curves too.

PBC: Yes, and it’s based on a real dress.

Fallon: A true story?

PBC: No, a true dress my wife did something with years ago and I saw it and wrote the plot.

Fallon: Just like that.

PBC: The creative mind works fast.  I’m trying to get the money to catch up with it.

Fallon: And you’ll have some more if people get out to watch The Cheerleader Killings.  Thanks for being here.  Stay tuned everyone.

[xcertaindarkthingsx]

why can’t my brain just,,,, do the thing

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 17}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

It had been a long day.

They hadn’t done jack shit, but a long day nonetheless, thanks to the run in with Tomas.

After eating lunch, Cassian had taken Nyx out to the pool, letting him float around in his little inner tube and splash in the water. He kept a close eye on him and he wasn’t sure he’d heard so many giggles from the little dude in months.

Not even fifteen minutes after they’d come out, Nesta decided to join them, though it wasn’t to play and splash like Nyx. No, she brought a book hat, and tanning oil, but Nyx squealed his delight when he saw her regardless.

After some goading and thinly veiled threats to splash her smutty book if she didn’t get in, Nesta relented and Nyx had the time of his life.

Until he got chlorine in his eye and had a meltdown.

Just like that, pool time was over, and after taking him inside and getting changed, Cassian was lounging on the couch while Nyx played on the floor.

Nesta started up the stairs and said, “I think I’m going to take a bath. Relax from…earlier.”

From that piece of shit Tomas and the things he’d said. Cassian wished he’d of at least said something, but he most wished he’d have throttled him.

Cassian simply nodded and Nesta was off, hurrying up the stairs and shimmying out of her bikini once she closed herself inside of the master bathroom.

She hadn’t been in the warm water with her eyes closed for five minutes before a horrid sound came from downstairs.

One word screamed at the top of Cassian’s lungs, her name.

“NESTA!”

For a moment, she thought she had imagined it. But, then he screamed again.

“NESTA!”

She shot up in the tub and was about to yell back, when she heard, “COME QUICK!”

Panic rose in the pit of her stomach as she jumped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around her wet body as she threw open the bathroom door. “I’m coming! I’m coming! What happened?! What’s wrong?!”

“Come on, come on, come on!” Cassian yelled, but it wasn’t fear in his voice - only excitement. “Hurry, before you miss him!”

Nesta rounded the top of the stairs, and froze. A few feet in front of Cassian, on his own two feet, was Nyx, taking slow, steady steps toward his uncle.

Her feet carried her down the stairs in a flash and she was next to Cassian, on her knees, just like he was. At the appearance of his aunt, he grinned, those angelic cheeks rounding out and reached for her.

And he tumbled down.

“Shit,” Cassian muttered and lifted him back onto his unsteady feet, praying they weren’t about to have more tears. But the dark blue eyes that gazed up at him were not tear-filled, just wide and curious as always.

Taking a few more tentative steps, he reached them, leaning into Cassian, but a hand reaching out to take Nesta’s as he animatedly spoke in his own baby language.

“Good job, bubba,” Nesta cried, hoisting him up into her arms and crushing him in a hug. “Such a big boy.”

Nyx giggled and wiggled to be put down.

He wasn’t done just yet.

His feet hit the ground and he was off. He walked from Nesta to Cassian then back again. Every time he fell down, he got right back up and kept on moving.

“Look at you go, buddy,” Cassian laughed, catching Nyx as he made it to him.

“Think he’ll sleep good tonight?” Nesta asked, watching them both with a smile on her face.

“I hope so,” he chuckled, letting Nyx pat him on the face, grinning up at him.

He meandered back across the room, plopping down at his toys and began playing again.

“And I guess we’re done with that,” he laughed, standing up and shaking his head. “He finally walked.”

“Sixteen months,” she sighed, propping a hip on the side of the couch. “I was starting to think he’d never do it.”

“Me either,” he said, sitting down. He glanced up at her—and froze.

He’d completely forgotten she was wearing nothing but a towel.

“Didn’t we have a rule about coming down here nude?” Cassian asked, under his breath.

Nesta’s eyes darted to his. “Pardon?”

His eyebrows raised and he gestured to her towel, and Nesta looked down, as if she had completely forgotten that she was wearing it, too. “Oh, shit, sorry. I was in such a hurry to come downstairs-.”

“I mean, I don’t blame you-.”

“I could’ve put on something-.”

“I was screaming your name-.”

“Screaming my name,” Nesta repeated, her cheeks heating. Last time Cassian had screamed her name, it had been under very, very different context.

Although, she had been wearing little to nothing then, too.

The memories flashed through her mind, and from the way Cassian was watching her, she assumed that they were flashing through his, too.

She watched as his throat bobbed and his eyes left hers, dragging down her body as if he couldn’t stop himself. He met her gaze again and she felt her cheeks heating. Her cheeks, her ears, her neck, her entire body heated under that gaze.

“I’m going to…” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder, towards the stairs. “Finish my bath, I guess.”

“Right,” Cassian replied, his eyes still on her. “I’ll put him down in just a few minutes.”

She glanced over at the baby as she backed up toward the stairs. Nyx was indeed starting to rub his eyes, and noticing Nesta’s attention on him, he yawned and reached for her.

Before she could cross the room, Cassian was on his feet and picking Nyx up.

“I can take him,” she protested, but he shook his head, not looking at her.

“You go relax. I’ve got him.”

Nesta cleared her throat and nodded, convincing herself to say nothing more as she hurried up the stairs, clinging to her towel.

She settled back into the bath, even though the water had chilled.

She couldn’t control her breathing.

She thought of that time when he’d caught her in the bath before, right after they had moved in, when he caught her doing intimate things with herself, alone.

Then she thought of the immense amount of pleasure that he’d given her, and how nothing and no one had ever compared to it.

Her heart began to beat a little bit faster, and a throbbing formed between her thighs.

She wondered if Cassian ever caught himself thinking about it, if he ever wanted to do it again.

Judging by the look in his eyes downstairs, the intense way he had been watching her…

Nesta pulled herself out of the tub.

She dressed and pulled her hair into a ponytail atop her head, but couldn’t decide if going downstairs would be a good or bad idea. She couldn’t decide if being around him right now was a smart decision, not when the thoughts in her head were so distracting she couldn’t even focus on the laundry she had neglected to fold for a few days.

Her phone vibrated where she’d plugged it in on her nightstand and Balthazar’s name lit up the screen.

That was another reason she couldn’t allow herself to entertain the thoughts constantly running through her head. She and Bal weren’t in a relationship, they were in no way exclusive and hadn’t had that conversation, but Nesta wasn’t the type to date—or in this case, sleep with—two men at once.

She could hear Cassian down in the living room again, no doubt cleaning up Nyx’s toys and settling down with a beer. She wanted to join him, wanted to curl up on the other side if the couch with a glass of wine and listen to him commentate whatever stupid show or game he was watching.

But she knew that wasn’t a good idea.

So she laid down on her bed, grabbed the book from her nightstand, and read until all of those emotions that Cassian made her feel faded into the back of her mind where she told them to stay.

*

The next morning, Cassian was on Nyx duty. Since he had the day off, the nanny didn’t have to come, which meant bro time.

First, they went for a jog along the Sidra where both Nyx and Cassian got their fair share of looks from the ladies. Turns out a cute kid was a great way to gain the attention of beautiful women.

On the way back home, Cassian decided to make a detour for some lunch, and ended up pushing the jogging stroller right into Nesta’s restaurant.

He knew where it was, and knew that Nesta was a damn good cook, but somehow, he hadn’t visited the restaurant in the over four months they’d been living together.

It was packed, to absolutely no surprise and when he walked in, he was greeted by an amazing array of delicious smells. Quickly realizing the stroller was going to be a hindrance, he parked it in the corner by the door and held Nyx as he made his way into one of the sitting areas.

“It’s open seating, so please, sit where you like.”

Cassian turned as a deep voice spoke from behind him. The man was watching him, and when he turned, his eyes fell on Nyx. Recognition lit them up for a moment, Nesta having brought Nyx into the restaurant more than once.

“Thanks. Is Nesta free?”

“Last I saw, she was helping out in the kitchen, but I’ll check. Take a seat and I’ll be back.”

Cassian nodded and the man was gone, disappearing through a swinging door to the back.

Indeed, Nesta was manning the grill, an assortment of sandwiches, meats, pancakes and other items sizzling around her. She was reading order tickets and communicating with her line cooks, and everything was exactly as it should be.

Until Helion was leaning on the wall next to her.

She groaned. “Tell me it’s not the lady who claims to find a hair in her food every time she’s here.”

The patron in question was in the dining room, a brunch buffet spread out before her and her friends. Her curly, red hair was piled on top of her head and without fail, she always seemed to find a lone, red, curling hair in her dishes, no matter what she ate and who was in the kitchen. Even though Nesta had no one in her employment with curly, red hair.

“Oh, no,” Helion said, his smirk growing. “There’s a handsome man out front asking for you.”

Balthazar.

Nesta groaned. Even though she didn’t mean to. “Let him know I’m busy, but I’ll be out in just a minute.”

“It’s not him,” he replied, practically singing the words. “This one has a very cute baby with him.”

She was moving before he’d finished speaking, hollering at one of her cooks to take up her place on the line.

When she went into the dining room, Cassian was sitting in a booth, Nyx in a high chair at the end of the table next to him.

“What a pleasant surprise,” Nesta crooned as she approached.

Nyx’s head whipped around at the familiar voice as Cassian looked up from his menu. Nesta was lifting Nyx out of the high chair when Cassian said, “We were out and about. Someone was hungry.”

Nesta chuckled. “Was that someone you or the baby?”

“Fine,” Cassian said, grinning. “Two someones were hungry.”

Nesta snorted as she kissed Nyx’s cheek. “Couldn't have cleaned up before coming in here?” She asked, nodding to Cassian’s damp t-shirt.

He shrugged his shoulder. “This was on the way home. You should be glad we graced you with our presence.”

“Right,” she laughed softly, sitting Nyx back in the high chair and buckling him in. “Any idea what you want?”

He was flipping through the menu, and honestly, every damn thing he saw looked delicious. He smiled up at her. “Surprise us. I can’t choose.”

Smirking, she took his menu and said, “Chicken livers and brussel sprouts, coming right up.”

He rolled his eyes as she walked away, but she entered their order into the system and returned to the table, sitting down in the empty booth seat across from him.

“He have a good morning?” She asked, holding Nyx’s outstretched hand and letting him grip her thumb. He shook her hand as hard as he could and grinned up at her, babbling excitedly.

“Aside from the blow out he had this morning, I’d say so. Which he found very amusing that I had to clean up” Cassian chuckled, rolling his eyes. “This is the only kid who laughs while he’s covered in shit, I swear.”

Nesta shook her head, laughing softly.

Cassian took the chance to look around. “This place is great, Nes. The only thing it’s missing is a bar.”

Nesta looked around with him and nodded. “I’ve thought about it quite a bit. Don’t wanna mess with licensing. I’ve already got too much on my plate around here.”

Cassian cocked his head to the side. “You just gotta get someone to run the bar, that’s all. You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know.”

Nesta looked back to Cassian. “Someone like you?”

“Handsome, smart, with a high knowledge of what it takes to run a bar?” He asked. “Yeah, someone like me.”

She narrowed her eyes and nudged his shin with the toe of her shoe. “Don’t get too cocky. If you decide to leave your bar and want a new project… Sure, I’ll add a bar.”

Cassian blinked. “I can’t tell if you’re messing with me or not.”

Nesta shook her head. “I’m always serious.”

“At one time, I thought that was true,” Cassian muttered.

His shin got another nudge.

“I’m serious,” she repeated, with a quiet laugh. “Shockingly enough, you’d be one of the few people I trust to let into my management.”

He stayed quiet for a minute, long enough that she glanced at him from where she’d been looking at Nyx. He was chewing on his bottom lip and she had to physically restrain herself from reaching over and working it out from between his teeth. Feeling her attention on him, he looked at her, and said, “We’ll talk about it more at home, yeah?”

Nodding, Nesta replied, “Of course. But don’t just do it because I said something, I don’t want-.”

“I’ve actually been thinking about opening my own place for while,” he murmured, and then quickly added, “Not that this would be my place, it’s yours, of course. But I’ve got savings. I can help with any applications and licensing and renovations that need to be done. Not to mention, it would be an investment in a growing business. That always looks good in a portfolio.”

Nesta smiled. “Like you said, we’ll talk about it at home. I’m gonna go check on your food.”

“Please do,” Cassian said, waving her away. “I’m starving.”

With a roll of her eyes, she stood up and walked toward the kitchen, shoving Cassian’s sweaty head as she walked by him.

Helion was waiting by the kitchen doors. “Flirting, how cute. It’s like watching two horny teenagers.”

“Fuck off,” Nesta muttered.

Helion only grinned and followed her into the kitchen. “Admit it. You’ve got the hots for hot uncle.”

“I can fire you, you know,” Nesta said.

“You wouldn’t,” he said, right on her heels. “You’d be bored to death here without me.”

She didn’t need to bother telling him he was right. On either front.

*

Nesta was beat by the time she got off. It was an effort of will to make it home before she fell asleep, but as she parked her car in the driveway, she nearly sighed in relief. Cassian had said he’d handle dinner, so she knew that a glass of wine—and hopefully, an uninterrupted bath—was in her future.

She hadn’t expected to find Cassian on his hands and knees as soon as she came in the door.

He looked up at her, eyes wide and said, “Uh, hey. You’re home.”

“I am,” she replied, chuckling. “What are you doing?”

He hesitated before saying, “Playing hide and seek with Nyx.”

Nesta blinked. “Hide and-? Cassian, he’s one.”

“I left him on the floor with his toys and I went into the kitchen for thirty seconds to check on dinner,” he said, standing up.

She waited for him to go on, not understanding. And then her eyes widened. “You lost him?”

“He’s not lost,” he said, holding his hands up. “We’re playing hide and seek.”

“Cassian-.”

“He’s one, Nesta, he couldn’t have gone far-.”

“He walks now!” She cried, tossing her purse on the bench by the door and hurrying into the living room.

A giggle sounded from the other room, and they both sped around the corner where Nyx had made himself perfectly happy.

In the laundry room, Nyx sat in a pile of Nesta’s laundry, waving her underwear in the air.

As Nesta let out a relieved breath, Cassian chuckled. “Atta boy.”

Nesta whacked Cassian on the shoulder before picking Nyx up and freeing her panties from his grasp.

He immediately started crying.

“Way to take his toy away,” Cassian muttered.

Nesta shot him a look.

Cassian shrugged. “I would’ve cried, too.”

Nesta tried her best not to laugh, but failed. “You’re ridiculous.”

Cassian opened his mouth to reply, but the smoke alarm near the kitchen began to blare.

Nyx’s cries got louder and Nesta stopped Cassian, giving Nyx to him and hurried into the kitchen, pulling a pan of burnt French fries out of the oven and opened the back door and the door leading to the garage. She got a kitchen towel and was waving the smoky air away from the smoke alarm, and after a minute or two, the incessant blaring ceased.

Leaning back against the counter, she took a deep breath and looked at the doorway, finding Cassian standing there, Nyx still in his arms, though the tears had stopped. He was cringing, expecting her to start yelling any moment—.

But Nesta took one look at the charred French fries and started laughing. Deep, belly laughs that made her stomach hurt so badly she doubled over.

Cassian turned to the living room, getting Nyx set up in his playpen, and walked back into the kitchen, where Nesta was still laughing with her hands on her knees, trying to get air down.

“You find something funny, Archeron?” He asked, pausing in front of her. Even he was unable to stop the small smile on his face.

“French fries?” she asked, unable to catch her breath. “You— You burnt frozen french fries? How long have they been in there? Two hours?”

Cassian looked behind him at the clock on the stove and rubbed the back of his neck. “I like them crispy.”

“Oh, they’re crispy,” Nesta promised, straightening her back, small bouts of laughter still finding their way out. “They’re really damn crispy.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, shaking his head. He pulled a series of paper towels off the stovetop and revealed a tray of chicken nuggets and a pot of cooked broccoli. “At least I didn’t burn everything.”

“Chicken nuggets and broccoli?” she asked, her grin still wide. “Kids barely old enough to eat solids and we’re already having kid dinners?”

“Kid dinners?” Cassian repeated. “You’re lying your ass off if you’re telling me that you don’t enjoy a big ass plate of chicken nuggets.”

Nesta laughed, shaking her head. “They’re dinosaur shaped!”

“The dino ones taste better!” Cassian protested.

“We’ll see about that,” Nesta said, and just as she looked up at Cassian, she realized how close he’d stopped from her.

He couldn’t have been more than a foot away, but he felt much closer.

Nesta’s laughter died down, although that light feeling in the pit of her stomach remained.

One of his hands was braced on the counter she leaned on, and though he wasn’t caging her in, she couldn’t help but stare up at him.

“At least it’s not breakfast again,” she murmured, noting the way he was staring at her, too.

“You’ve never complained about my breakfast,” he said, swallowing roughly.

She tracked the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed. “Well, you’ve never burnt it, so.”

The corner of his mouth twitched and she knew he was trying his hardest not to smile. He opened his mouth to reply, but Nyx started talking from the other room, babbling and nonsense and baby language reaching them.

Cassian seemed to realize how close he stood to her and backed up a step, clearing his throat. “If you want to grab him, I’ll put some fresh fries in the oven.”

Nodding, Nesta said, “Yeah, of course.”

“I’m making them crispy, though,” he said, as she left.

Nesta snorted as she shook her head and lifted Nyx out of his pack n play. “Your uncle is nuts. Yes, he is.”

Nyx’s grin melted Nesta’s heart.

Forty minutes later, once the french fries were sufficiently crispy, the three of them were sitting at the table, eating dinner. Nesta didn’t mind it, not one bit, the fact that they sat there every night and ate together.

It was almost as if they were a family.

An odd, dysfunctional, interestingly beautiful family.

[biggest-stupidhead]

Never Ready (part 2) 

Summary: “It’s not like I’m ready to take her in.”

“And I was ready for you? Kid, nobody is ever ready for things like this. That doesn’t mean they don’t happen.” Levi is faced with the difficult decision of taking in his newly orphaned cousin. But he can't do it alone.You're a newly graduated college student looking to make some extra cash, but get more than you originally bargained for...

Word Count: 4.6K

AN: Sorry for the long wait, I've been very busy this summer but I'm trying to keep writing! Thanks for sticking around you guys :)

find part 1 here

--

Levi woke up early, as usual, however, he skipped his usual workout in favor of deep cleaning the house for the third time this week. Just as he was putting his broom back into the closet when the doorbell rang. He anxiously smoothed out his cotton dress shirt, tugging at the seam as he tried to tuck it into his pants.

“Hello-” His shoulders slumped when he found a young suburban housewife on the other side of the door instead of the gloomy social worker.

“Oh hi there! So sorry that it’s taken me so long but…” She held out a bottle of red wine with a neat ribbon tied around the neck.

“You didn’t have to,” Levi answered tensely as she beamed politely at him.

“I know but...it just felt like the right thing to do.” She shrugged, her strawberry blonde hair swaying, the strands just barely touched her shoulders.

“Well...thank you.” He thanked her, hoping that she would take the hint that this was a bad thing.

“No worries! By the way, my name is Petra, my husband and I live across the street.” She gabbed her thumb towards the house across from his.

“I’m Levi, nice to meet you.” He said, fighting to keep from grinding his teeth. It wasn’t that this woman was in the wrong, no it was simply the timing of her gesture. He was already on edge and he was never a fan of new people.

“Nice to meet you too! If you’re ever interested, we have a book club and-”

“Look, I appreciate the gesture but this isn’t the best time.” Levi cut her off and he felt a small pang of guilt at the way her expression dropped.

“Oh no of course! Anyway, you know where to find me.” She chuckled anxiously as she began her hasty retreat. It couldn’t have been soon enough, because a silver honda accord pulled into his driveway. Levi swallowed thickly as he watched Michelle climb out of her car and brave the icy sidewalk.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.” She said curtly as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and waited for Levi to step aside. When she crossed the threshold, he shut and locked the door behind her. She immediately began checking out the front room and the living room. The house had a nice open floorplan, so the first thing that anyone saw when entering was the living room and kitchen.

“Not at all,” Levi responded as she slowly wandered into the kitchen. He followed helplessly behind her as she began jotting notes down on a clipboard.

“Well, I must say that I am impressed with the hast you made these arrangements.” She complimented as she paced down the hallway, poking her head into the room that Levi had prepared for Mikasa.

“I don’t like to leave projects unfinished.” He responded as he waited in the doorway.

“Admirable.” She scribbled a quick note before finding her way back into the kitchen. Levi chewed the inside of his cheek as he waited with bated breath for her next words.

“Everything seems in great condition here. I don’t see any reason that she can’t move in by Monday.” She placed her clipboard on the counter and faced him with a tense smile.

“Monday?” Levi couldn’t hide the nerves in his tone and she smiled genuinely.

“Of course, we try to keep kids out of the homes as much as possible. Have you figured out what you wish to do for child care?” She moved seamlessly onto the next topic and Levi nodded, motioning for her to take a seat at the island.

“Uh, there’s a daycare that I was looking at. I’m also looking for a nanny.” Levi said as she settled into her seat and he sat a chair away from her.

“Excellent, my only concern with the daycare is that she has been attending the same one for some time now. It’s not far from here, I would highly encourage that you keep that the same.” She went back to her clipboard, jotting down some more notes as Levi contemplated what she had said.

“Makes sense.” He mumbled as she placed her pen down with a soft sigh.

“I got to say, I’m very grateful for your enthusiasm with this, makes my job a lot easier.” She smiled at him and Levi nodded curtly.

“Anyway, I’ll drop her off Monday morning, I believe that her current foster family uses the same daycare that she’s attending, Carla is the mom’s name. She’s made it clear that she is more than willing to lend a hand if ever needed.” Michelle jotted down a number on a scrap piece of paper and slid it across the counter to Levi who blinked stupidly down at her chicken scratch.

“That’s all I need from you.” Michelle stood and gathered her things, Levi trailed behind her to the front door and watched her leave. It was already Thursday, meaning he had less than five full days to finish preparing for Mikasa’s arrival. He felt like a tortured spirit in his own home, wandering the halls hallowly, he had never lived in such a large space. Not that his past homes had been small, but rather, he had always lived with someone.

Kenny and he had shared a small trailer all through his elementary years and well into his high school years. Then in college, he had roomed with Erwin and Mike, first in the dorms and then in shitty apartments. But now, he was alone. At least it was only for a few more days, but could you really count a four-year-old as company?

He found himself once again outside of the empty room, standing right on the threshold. The mere sight of the room made his stomach sink, from the subtle baby pink comforter to the dresser that was filled with tiny clothes. He turned and shut the door softly before marching back into the living room. The mid-afternoon sun was drifting in through the front windows and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

His phone rang obnoxiously and he scrambled to dig it out of his pocket. Hange’s contact lit up his screen and he inhaled sharply, preparing himself for whatever it was that Hange found important enough to share with him at one pm on a Thursday.

“Levi, is this a good time?” That was his first red flag, Hange was never considerate of his time when she called.

“It’s fine why?” He sighed as he began pacing the length of his living room.

“Well, I’ve got excellent news.” Hange couldn’t contain the excitement in her voice.

“What is it?” He encouraged her and she let out a muted squeal.

“I’ve found the perfect nanny for you! She just graduated last semester, I’ll send you her contact info.” Levi felt a small weight lift off of his chest, even though it wasn’t set in stone, at least he was making headway.

“She’s done this before, ever since she was a senior in high school actually. She told me over lunch that her usual employer doesn’t need her anymore so she’s on the hunt for a job!” Hange babbled on and Levi nodded along as he dropped onto the leather sofa.

“Got it thank you.” He confirmed as the ping of her sending the contact info came through his phone.

“Have her over for dinner, or maybe go out for tea. Ask her some questions and I’m sure you’ll find her more than qualified. She has no commitments so I bet if you can make her like you, then she’ll stick around for a while.” Hange chuckled deviously and Levi clicked his tongue.

“I have no idea what criteria I even have to look at to see if she’s qualified.” Levi scoffed and Hange snorted.

“Mikasa’s four years old, she has school and such, I mean as far as I’m concerned your nanny just needs to be able to drive and cook.” Hange shrugged as she flipped through her lesson planner.

“There’s got to be more than just that.” Levi bit the skin on his knuckle as he began wracking his brain for what makes a good nanny.

“Sure there is, I’m just brainstorming.” Hange chuckled and Levi rolled his eyes.

“I’ll make a list.” He concluded and Hange hummed her agreement.

“That’s a great idea, I mean in the end she’s going to be working for you so just put down qualities that you think make a good worker. Or something.” Hange seemed rather indifferent and Levi felt his jaw tick in annoyance.

“Right, well thanks.”

“No problem, catch ya later!” And with that, she hung up.

--

Levi stood outside of the coffee shop. He snuck one last glance at the shortlist that he had made. His brow creased when he read through it, the first point he had put down was: in-state driver’s license. Closely followed by good hygiene. Frustration bubbled into his chest as he wadded the paper up and shoved it deep into his pocket. He finally pushed through the door and approached the familiar counter. He ordered his usual and went to sit in one of the secluded booths in the back.

He had arrived a good ten minutes early, hoping to gather himself before meeting the nanny. As he watched the steam rise off of his cup of tea he savored the few moments of silence. That was until the bell on the door chimed. He knew it was you, Hange had described you in-depth when he had told her he reached out to you that evening she sent your contact.

Your hair was pulled back off of your face in a half up half down style. You wore a pair of fitted jeans and a knitted sweater. Levi watched you as you ordered your drink, you seemed so sure of yourself, the way your shoulders were pulled back and your jaw set in determination. Already off to a good start and he hadn’t even heard you speak. Levi watched you grab your drink before doing a half-turn, eyes scanning the small cafe. They landed on him and Levi knew he’d been caught staring. He did a small tilt of his head, inviting you to join him, you smiled warmly and took quick steps in his direction.

Levi stood and extended his hand to you, which you accepted with a firm handshake.

“You must be Mr. Ackerman.” Your voice was smooth and honeyed, immediately putting him at ease.

“Levi is fine.” He said as he sat back down in the booth. You slid down into the seat opposite of him, clutching your purse in your lap.

“I understand that you have some...experience.” Levi started a bit awkwardly. You nodded eagerly and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

“Of course, in the past, it’s mostly been under the table, but we can work around that of course.” Levi examined the typed-out document. A resume of your past jobs and a few recommendations from past employers.

“Under the table is fine…” He mumbled as he thumbed through the pages.

“So, Hange told me a bit about your...unique situation.” You pressed and Levi stilled in his motions.

“What’d she tell you?” He asked, grey eyes boring into you from over the tops of the papers.

“Just that you were a new parent and you needed a hand. Takes a village you know.” You chuckled a bit tensely and Levi felt some tension leave his shoulders. At least Hange had given him the liberty of explaining himself.

“She’s not wrong, I’ve taken custody of my distant cousin, I know nothing about child-rearing,” Levi admitted point blank and you weren’t sure if he was kidding or not. When his expression remained as cold as stone, you realized that he was in fact not.

“I see...I’ll admit that I don’t have much experience with...well stuff like this either.” You smiled at him in an attempt to diffuse the tension between the two of you. Levi’s eyes narrowed and he reclined back into the booth, eyes never leaving yours.

“We’ll just come up with it as we go.”

“So you’re set on me as your nanny?” You beamed and he scowled, although you were right. Levi knew from the moment he shook your hand that he would choose you.

“Yes, Mikasa arrives on Monday and I expect you to be there when she does.” Levi scoffed, lifting his teacup by the rim and taking a long sip.

“Be where exactly?” You were getting smart, something that simultaneously annoyed and intrigued him.

“My house, I’ll send you the address the day before,” Levi answered with a roll of his eyes.

“Sounds perfect.” You hummed, lifting your coffee cup to your own lips.

“What are my hours going to be?” You asked as you placed your cup back onto the tabletop.

“Mikasa goes to half days at preschool, so I’ll need you to drop her off and pick her up from that. She needs to be dropped off at eight am and picked up at noon.” Levi tapped his finger on the rim of his cup and you nodded.

“I can do that, so I’ll fix all three meals then?” You asked and Levi felt a tinge of guilt. He knew that he wasn’t completely prepared to be a parent, but he still felt ashamed for seeking help. Kenny had raised him to be independent. It had taken so much to reach out to Hange, and now he was relying on a strange young woman.

“Yes, that’s preferred. I don’t have any rules besides keeping the house spotless.” His finger was planted on the tabletop now to emphasize the importance of his only rule. You nodded in understanding.

“You can set the boundaries for Mikasa, I trust that you have enough experience in this area.” Levi continued and you tensed. Never had you ever had so much responsibility riding on a nanny position. Your employers set the rules and you enforced them, but now you were expected to be both parties. But when Levi slid a paper across the table your eyes widened. On the notepad was a range of wages that he was willing to pay. You struggled to contain your shock as you clutched the paper.

“T-This is way too much.” You squeaked as you pushed the paper back to Levi.

“Seems reasonable to me.” He shrugged and you felt your face flush.

“Well...it’s your money after all.” You reasoned as you grappled internally to regain your composure.

“But if at any time and for any reason you need to lower it that’s fine too.” You waved your hands in front of you and Levi’s brows pinched together.

“Don’t worry about it.” He assured you and set his empty cup aside.

“Was there anything else you wanted to cover?” You asked, sneaking a glance at your watch.

“That’s all from me, I’ll text you my address and get you set up to pick up and drop off with the school,” Levi said as he pulled his coat on over his shoulders. Your cup was still full so you remained seated as you watched him straighten the fabric of his jacket.

“Alright, see you Monday morning then.” You said as he marched towards the door, his posture rigid. As soon as he disappeared through the door, the doubt swirled in your chest. You had never worked this many hours and the added pressure of Mikasa coming from a traumatic past made you uneasier. But you weren’t one to shy away from a challenge, you pulled your phone out and began to dive headfirst into the internet. After about twenty minutes of scrolling through countless tabs and foster parent forums, you felt at least somewhat prepared.

You ended up ordering three more cups of coffee, by the time you were halfway through your third cup, your hands shook as you held your phone. The screen was beginning to put a strain on your eyes as you squinted at the black font. With a heavy sigh, you placed your phone screen down on the table and tossed your head back against the booth’s cushion. After a few deep breaths, you collected your things and made your way out into the chilly air, determined to continue gathering information and preparing yourself for the task at hand.

--

Levi did some research of his own that afternoon. Sitting in his desk chair, he clicked through tabs, a simple google search had shown him your Instagram. He had been relieved to find it public, your page seemed average, nothing too out of the ordinary. But he was disappointed to find it rather small, with not a lot of posts or followers. It seemed that you, like himself, were not too fond of posting every small movement that you made for the world to see. In fact, your most recent post was from almost a full year ago, right around spring break. The post was a compilation of photos you had taken on a biology trip that Hange had organized. He closed the tab and pulled up a new one, the official website for the daycare that Mikasa had been attending. He found the phone number and dialed it into his keypad on his phone. He needed to register you as one of Mikasa’s emergency contacts and as her primary source of transportation.

The process was easy and he was relieved to be able to check it off of his list so he could at least attempt and get some of his work done. He needed to savor these last few child-free days before Mikasa became a permanent and very prominent factor in his life.

__

As promised, Levi sent you a text with nothing but his address and the time he expected you there the next morning. Your sleep that night was fitful, tossing and turning well into the early hours. You only ended up sleeping a grand total of six hours before having to get up and get ready for your first day of work. You sifted through your closet in search of an appropriate outfit, as badly as you wanted to wear a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, you knew Levi would likely frown upon it.

So you ended up choosing a plush sweater and a pair of jeans. Pleased with your appearance, you then left your small apartment and made the twenty-minute drive out to the suburbs where Levi was located. The roads were icy the sky was dark with promises of more snow, by the time you had arrived a few fat flakes were already dwindling from the sky. You parked on the side of the road, careful to not block his mailbox, and trudged up the slick driveway and up to the front door. It only took one soft knock for him to pull the door open. He was as handsome as you remembered, his hair was damp from a shower and his hands were busy as he finished tying his tie. He stepped aside and walked back into his house as you kicked the snow off of your shoes.

The space was remarkably clean considering a single man occupied the space. Levi gestured vaguely with his head for you to follow him into the kitchen and you obliged. He pulled out a neon green piece of paper and handed it to you, Mikasa’s name was written in stark penmanship.

“That’s your tag to pick her up, don’t forget it.” He said as he shoved a set of keys into his back pocket.

“Is she here?” Your voice was hushed and your eyes strayed to the hallway which was dark.

“Not yet, the service worker should be here any minute now,” Levi said as he folded his collar down over his tie and finally turned to face you.

“Oh, alright. So what time are you usually off of work?” You asked, setting your purse on the island in the kitchen. Levi sighed and licked his lips thoughtfully.

“Depends...I normally stay late but technically my workday ends at 5:30 but I probably will be at least an hour later than that.” Levi said and you nodded along in understanding.

“That’s not a problem, do you have any idea of what time Mikasa goes to sleep at?” You asked, and judging by the way his shoulders tensed up, he did not.

“Not a clue, but I’ll ask the social worker.” He assured you and you nodded, allowing your eyes to scan over the kitchen. The marble countertops were so white and obviously well kept, you knew that they would give you grief, the oven and microwave looked fancy, as did the fridge. As Levi reached up for a cup from one of the deep navy cupboards, you noted that they were the kind that shut quietly. Your staring was interrupted by the shrill ring of the doorbell. Levi sat his cup aside and walked briskly back towards the front door.

“Good morning Mr. Ackerman, may we come in?” An unfamiliar voice could be heard, followed closely by the sound of two new sets of footsteps on the hardwood floors.

“Of course.” Levi’s voice was even lower and harder to make out as the newcomers shuffled in. They rounded the corner and your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest when your eyes landed on the small girl. She wore a white dress paired with a pink cardigan and a scarlet scarf. The older woman helped Mikasa out of her plush pink coat and draped it over her forearm.

“Who is this?” The woman asked, eyes slightly widened as they landed on you.

“This is (Y/n), my nanny,” Levi said vaguely and the woman nodded slowly before gently pushing Mikasa out from behind her legs.

“Honey, why don’t we go take a look at your new room?” The woman asked and the girl’s brows knitted together, but she let the social worker guide her down the hall and out of sight. Levi tailed behind them, you almost followed as well, but you feared overwhelming her. Levi hauled the small suitcase down the hall and you heard the soft chatter of the two adults. A few moments passed before they returned, the social worker shook Levi’s hand and knelt down to give Mikasa a tender hug.

“We’ll be in touch.” She promised as she showed herself out. Levi’s shoulders drooped once the woman left and he looked down at the small girl who stood near his side.

“Mikasa,” He cleared his throat and the small girl looked up at him, eyes swimming with tears and lip quivering. A rush of panic flooded his chest but you were quicker than he was.

“Mikasa, my name is (Y/n), we’re going to be spending a lot of time together.” You had crossed the room to kneel before her with your hand outstretched invitingly. The girl gripped the edge of her dress and swayed it anxiously as she avoided your eyes.

“I know this is really scary and confusing, but we’re going to work through this together.” You assured her when she remained closed off. Levi watched with wide eyes as tears slid down her face and rolled off her chin. You leaned forward and swiped them away with your thumb and Mikasa whimpered unsurely.

“Tell you what, I was just about to make some breakfast. Have you eaten yet?” You asked, after a moment of contemplation, Mikasa shook her head no shyly.

“What would you like? I’ve been told that I make a mean waffle.” You smiled wryly and Mikasa’s lip quivered as it quirked up in an unsure smile.

“I wanna make cinnamon rolls.” She spoke softly and you nodded with wide eager eyes.

“Totally.” You agreed, still holding your hand out as you slowly stood. Mikasa accepted your outstretched, her small hand was easily enveloped in your own as you led her around the island.

“Hey Levi, how much time before you’ve got to leave?” You asked as you stopped to hoist Mikasa up onto the counter.

“About 30 minutes.” He said, trying to contain himself from scolding you for putting the child onto the counter.

“Want to help us?” You invited and Levi sighed, knowing it would be wrong to decline.

“I don’t have cinnamon rolls.” He said instead of answering the original question.

“Oh that’s not a problem. Do you have flour? Yeast, eggs?” You asked as you turned and began rummaging through the cabinets.

“Of course, I’m not an animal.” He scoffed and you chuckled as you pulled out a bag of flour.

“That’s all we need.” You sat the bag next to Mikasa who reached out and touched it experimentally. Next you pulled out the carton of eggs from the fridge, Mikasa opened the carton and gently held an egg. Levi could easily imagine her losing her grip and dropping the egg onto his freshly cleaned wood floors.

“Where’s your cinnamon?” You asked, back turned and arms outstretched as you held the cabinet open.

“Here.” Levi slid past you, opening the neighboring cabinet and held the spice out to you. With a smile you accepted it and added the container to the growing pile of ingredients.

“How long does this take?” Levi asked, glancing at his watch.

“Not 30 minutes.” You answered wryly as you handed Mikasa a wooden spoon, she accepted it happily. Her small hands wrapped around the handle and she placed the spoon against her cheek, basically hugging the utensil.

“What else do you need?” He asked as you perused his kitchen.

“Just yeast and sugar.” You answered as you crouched to look for a bowl.

“It’s over here.” He opened a cabinet near the one you were inspecting and pulled out a bag of sugar and a handful of yeast packets.

“Do you cook a lot?” You asked and he shrugged.

“Enough, I hate eating out.” He answered and you hummed in understanding.

Levi watched as you began making the dough and Mikasa leaned on your shoulder as you kneaded the dough. Her grey eyes widened when you motioned for her to join in. She poked the dough and you smiled as she splayed her small hands over the surface of the squishy dough.

Once again, all Levi could think about how dirty her hands were as she began kneading the dough as you had previously.

“That’s great! Now we can let it sit for a while before we roll them up!” You explained as you gathered the dough back up into the bowl and laid a kitchen towel over it.

“Want an apple while we wait?” You asked and Mikasa nodded enthusiastically as you turned to grab the fruit. Levi looked at his watch once more, he still had about 10 minutes before he had to leave. But he felt the pressure and reality of his newfound responsibility weighing heavy on his chest. So he went to get his shoes and retreat like the coward he was.

“Leaving?” You asked as he pulled his shoes on, you had already cut the apple and Mikasa was watching with curious eyes as she crunched on a slice.

“Yeah, I’ll be back before 8.” He promised and you nodded.

“See you then.” You called after him as he slipped out of the garage door, throwing up a careless wave of acknowledgment as he went. You then turned back to Mikasa and sighed exasperatedly and she giggled as you returned to making her breakfast. This was going to be a long day.

[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 2

Summary: Professor Laszlo Kreizler is a pretentious ass - that's the only way you could possibly explain the man. That being said, you needed a job to help pay for grad school, and the position of being his TA was the only thing available. You'll suck it up and deal with it, but the last thing you'll do is let this man get inside your head in the process.

WC: 1131

Rated: M

Chapter Tags: laszlo is very to the point with his expectations.

🧠

Monday morning came too quickly. There was no need to dress super professionally as a TA, but you still found that you wanted to at least look presentable on your first day with the devil himself. One less thing for him to judge you on, right?

The hall in the Psychology wing was quiet, only a few students could be seen shuffling to their early morning classes. A tall guy walked past you, offering up a pity-smile in your direction as he saw where you stood. If what you had seen on the professor over the weekend was any real indication, you felt bad for the psych majors. Even so, you would do your best to withhold judgement until you met the man.

You stood outside his office. The dark mahogany door was shut, a gold “Dr. L Kreizler” placard adorned the wood. Pulling out your phone you check the schedule for the tenth time this morning.

Schedule:

MWF 8am-12pm

TTH 3pm-7pm

You lick your lips and look at the clock on the wall - 7:59. The second the hands switch to 8 you knock on the heavy wood. There is a muffled “come in” from the other side.

You don’t know what you anticipated as you entered the office. Taking a minute, you examine the decor he has set up. It felt like walking through a time capsule; as though you were transported to the gilded age. Rich, dark colors of wood and tapestry filled the space. Large bookshelves had tomes that looked to be at least a hundred years old, well worn and rubbed off of their titles. Small artifacts, pictures, and old scientific instruments line the shelves. The room is massive, not something you would have anticipated. He does not use the fluorescent overhead lights, instead having a series of tall warm-toned lamps scattered around the room. There is even a couch along the back wall, decorated with swirling filigree carved into the arms and legs. A laptop and second monitor on his desk bring you back to reality.

In your admiration of the office you pay no mind to the man it belongs to. Finally, you notice him as he stares at you from his chair, looking annoyed at having to wait for your introduction.

Even with the less than pleased look he’s giving, you can’t help but notice how attractive the man is. The picture had done absolutely nothing to show off the depth in those brown eyes, the softness of the delicately styled hair, the fullness of his well-groomed beard. He was much younger than you anticipated too. If anything you figure he’s maybe early 40s. And fuck, he’s just your type. Too bad he’s an asshole… and your boss…. you think belatedly.

“Oh! Sorry, um, I’m the new TA,” you introduce yourself and tell him your name. “It’s very nice to meet you professor.” You reach out to shake his hand. He does not move to return the favor, but instead keeps his calculating eyes on you. The silence tics on as you wait, hand outstretched. Clearing your throat you drop it back to your side.

Finally, he speaks in an accented voice. “You may call me Dr. Kreizler. I have space for you there,” he gestures with a nod of his head to a desk in the corner. “I’ve taken the liberty of preparing a list of expectations for you. Should you have any questions or concerns I expect that you address them with me directly. You’ll note that I have included my personal number for work purposes only. I expect you to provide me with your own should I need you outside of contract hours. Do not contact me while you are intoxicated or you will be dismissed from this position.” To the point then, you blink at his directness. And presumptuous as hell to assume that you would even consider drunk texting him.

He briefly explains your role and clarifies some of the less detailed points on his list. The entire time he’s speaking his focus is on whatever work sits in front of him, not you. A beat passes once he’s done.

“Sounds great, thank you.” You had done your best to remain civil and polite, ignoring the ill-reviews in hopes to create your own opinion. Quite frankly, he wasn’t faring well so far.

He looks up at you; his eyes are piercing. Does he always look like he’s picking apart people like they are a specimen he’s studying?

“I suspect you have done your research on who I am, yet you are still present today. That is promising. But tell me, who are you?” he asks, sitting back in his chair.

You’ve never been good at talking about yourself when put on the spot. “Well I’m 26 years old, I graduated magna cum laude with a dual degree in history and political science. The last few years I’ve been working with the graduate studies program to get my doctorate in history. My thesis is on 1960s shifting cultural norms and the development and impact of countercultures on American society.”

“Have you considered the emerging role of sequence murderers in your studies?” He almost looks interested as he asks.

“Some, not as much as I would like yet, though. I suppose a perk of taking this position means you can give me some insight on that since you teach about it.” You give a little smile-shrug, hoping the statement will earn you some points with him.

He ignores it. “And what background in psychology do you have? Or do you even have any?”

You are a bit taken aback by his tone. “I took an introductory course with Professor Stratton during my undergrad years.”

“Hmm. That will have to suffice. In the meantime I would suggest you make haste with the reading I’ve left you. It’s best you spend this week with that so you can be most useful to me this semester.”

Looking through all the contents he’s left on your desk you see two books, a textbook, a few slide show print outs, and his syllabi - each marked up with his cursive and colored tabs to mark pages of importance. Sitting down, you give an inaudible sigh; this is going to be a long semester. You pick up the first syllabus and get to work.

Noon rolls around after what feels like a lifetime. Packing up all the materials he’s provided, you wish him a good afternoon. As you are walking through the door he calls out to you.

“Next time, do not be late.” You give him a confused look, seeing as you got there exactly at 8am. “On time is late,” he explains curtly.

“Noted.” You don’t catch the door as it all but slams closed.

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 03

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 9.2k [3/6]

notes: this will likely be my last update of this fic until the new year, because i have two (2!!!) other fics that i’m planning to post in december, including another jungoo one, so! please look forward to those, and enjoy this chapter in the meantime! 

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink: a recurring yet warranted warning, me absolutely fucking up everything about korea’s geography probably, semi-public? fingering???, jungkook....... shall we say, rocks the boat, there is one (1) dick pic but no one’s complaining

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

Monday - 11:27am

Kim Taehyung added you to the group: the great escape!!!!!! 🏝🚗💨

[11:27am] Taehyung: let’s gooooooooooo!!

[11:27am] Jisoo: ???

[11:28am] Lisa: go where?

[11:28am] Taehyung: parks lake house this weekend! we’re going on vacation!

[11:28am] You: hold up tae, we haven’t even asked our parents if we can have the house yet

[11:29am] Chimchim: oh yeah lmao

[11:29am] Chimchim: u wanna go ask noona??

[11:29am] You: nope

[11:30am] Chimchim: ugh, fine

[11:30am] Chimchim: u big baby

[11: 31am] You: 🙄

[11: 37am] Chimchim: they said yes!

[11:38am] Taehyung: LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

[11:38am] Minho: sweet 👍

[11:38am] Taemin: tight

[11:39am] Jungkook: dope

[11:40AM] Jisoo: you’re all idiots 🙄

Tuesday - 2:34pm

[2:34pm] Chimchim: i’ve secured the van

[2:34pm] Chimchim: for the trip i mean

[2:35pm] Taehyung: noice

[2:35pm] You: 10 people aren’t gonna fit in mom’s van, chim

[2:37pm] Jungkook: i can drive too

[2:37pm] Chimchim: 👍👍

[2:37pm] Chimchim: see? nothing to worry about

[2:38pm] Jungkook: yeah noona, nothing to worry about. nothing at all.

Wednesday - 9:49pm

[9:49pm] Taehyung: oh my god we need FOOD

[9:49pm] Lisa: you’re just realizing that now?

[9:50pm] Taehyung: shut up

[9:50pm] Taehyung: i have a cooler

[9:51pm] Lisa: and ice?

[9:51pm] Taehyung: ………… i will buy some ice

[9:52pm] You: there’s a grocery store on the way up that we always used to go to, we can stock up there

[9:52pm] Taehyung: 👍

[9:54pm] You: you also better remember to bring your own towels. and more than one change of clothing

[9:54pm] Taehyung: 👍👍

[9:55pm] Chimchim: yes, mom

///

The day of the trip finds you standing in the foyer, rifling through your purse to make sure you have all the essentials. Off in the distance, you can hear Jimin sprinting around frantically, catching the briefest glimpse of his ruffled blond hair before he disappears again into the depths of the house.

“Chim, I swear to god. Why didn’t you pack earlier?”

“I did!” your brother whines, poking his head out from the living room where his suitcase is lying wide open, belongings scattered in every direction. “It’s just that—oh, fuck. Do you have my toothbrush?”

“Why would I have your toothbrush?” you deadpan.

He ignores you, and not two seconds later, he lets out an excited shout. “Never mind! I found it!”

You sigh and rub your temples. The trip hasn’t even begun, yet you’re already feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. “I’m going outside,” you call to your brother, who grunts in acknowledgement. Opening up the front door, you drag your suitcase out onto the sun-drenched porch, relishing the welcome breeze that caresses your cheeks and whispers through your hair.

The rare moment of peace is broken almost immediately by the rumble of a starting engine—the sound shuddery and wavering before it finally evens out into a steady, mechanical purr. It’s coming from nearby, and your gaze immediately travels to the neighboring driveway where a beat-up sedan sits, torn between exasperation and amusement when you see Jungkook waving at you from the driver’s seat.

“I’m coming to pick you up!” he calls through the open window, and you hold back your laughter as he reverses out of his driveway, rolls ten feet down the street, and pulls into yours.

“Was that really necessary?” you ask once he’s parked.

“Of course it was,” he replies, hopping out to grab your suitcase. You watch as he pops the trunk and loads it inside, and blanch when you realize what that means.

“Wait a second. Am I riding with you?”

Some emotion flashes across his face, but he wipes it away before you can identify it. “Would that be so terrible?”

It’s been one week since Taehyung’s party, and Jisoo’s warning still rings loud and clear in your brain. Still, you feign nonchalance and tamp down the uptick in your heart rate, offering him a shrug. “Just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

He grunts. An awkward silence settles over you as he adjusts your suitcase in the trunk beside his, and you distract yourself by fiddling with your purse strap until he slams the lid closed.

“So…” you start after a few seconds. “Are we picking anyone else up?”

“Yugyeom,” Jungkook replies, opening up the driver’s side door and climbing in. Hesitantly, you make your way over to the other side of the car, wondering if there’s any way you can avoid sitting in the passenger seat without looking like a total weirdo.

“Oh! Jungkook’s here already?” Jimin exits the house at last, lugging his suitcase and a smaller backpack. He shoves both into the backseat of your mother’s van before coming over, frowning when he sees you hovering near the trunk. “Why are you just standing there?”

You make a face at him. “We’re waiting for you, dumbass. Who’s riding with you?”

“Tae, Minho, and Taemin,” your brother replies. “Didn’t you see the group chat this morning?”

“I muted it days ago,” you admit. “You guys were annoying as hell.” Then another thought strikes you, your brain belatedly registering the names Jimin listed. “Wait, what about the girls? Aren’t they coming?”

Your brother rolls his eyes. “Jisoo’s working as a camp counselor this summer, and Lisa has other vacation plans. Maybe if you hadn’t muted the chat, you’d have known that.”

He has a point, though you aren’t about to admit that. You’re also wise enough not to inquire about the third member of the trio, remembering Jisoo’s revelation at the party. It’s no surprise that Chaeyoung isn’t joining you for the weekend—you’d want to avoid extended periods of time with your ex-boyfriend too. At the thought, your gaze reluctantly flits back over to the ex in question, who raises an expectant brow when he catches your eye.

“Ready?” he calls out the open window.

No, you want to say. But Jimin has already clambered into the van and slammed the door shut, and Jungkook’s car is blocking the van in the driveway so you suck in a deep breath and slide into the passenger seat beside your dark-haired neighbor.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Jungkook nods and throws the car into reverse. One hand splays across the wheel while the other comes up to rest on the back of your seat, and your breath hitches when he cranes around to check his blind spots, his face suddenly too close for comfort.

He’s playing with you, you tell yourself firmly, leaning back until your back’s pressed against the door and you can safely breathe again. Chaeyoung. Think about what he did to Chaeyoung.

“Hey, I made a roadtrip mix,” Jungkook pipes up all of a sudden. He grabs his phone from where it’s resting on the dashboard, tapping at the screen until the first strains of a melody filter through the car speakers. “It should last us the whole way.”

You perk up when you recognize the tune. “Oh! I love this song.”

Jungkook watches out of the corner of his eye as you bob your head to the beat, before smiling down at his lap. “Yeah. I know.”

///

Yugyeom lives on the other side of town, in a sprawling, winding neighborhood that sends your brain—and your phone’s GPS—into a complete and total tailspin. “Wait, wait—hang on. I think you missed a turn. You must have.”

Jungkook’s face crumples in confusion as he slows the car to a crawl, drawing a few irritated honks from the cars behind you. “There weren’t any streets back there, though.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, twisting in your seat to get a better look. “The directions said to take a right in… oh, fuck, hang on. We’re not even on a digitized road anymore, apparently.”

Jungkook heaves a sigh, but when you glance up at him, he’s wearing a grin. “Come on, Noona. You’re supposed to be my navigator. I’m depending on you.”

“I only know how to get us to the lake house, not Yugyeom’s,” you sniff defensively. “This is way beyond my pay grade.”

Jungkook chortles and reaches out, extending an open palm. “Can I see your phone for a sec?” You nod, handing it over, and he clicks his tongue as he turns it upside-down—rotating it a full three hundred and sixty degrees before returning it. “We might be lost,” he declares.

“Gee, you don’t say.”

He chuckles again. Picking up his own phone, he swipes a thumb across the screen before handing the unlocked device over. “Here, call Yugyeom. Put him on speaker, yeah?”

You hum in acknowledgement and scroll down in his contacts until you find the other boy’s name, clicking it open. A photo fills the screen as it rings—clearly a group photo from the way it’s cropped, zoomed in on Yugyeom and the ridiculous face he’s making.

“Is this from graduation?” you ask curiously.

Jungkook blinks and tears his gaze away from the windshield. “Huh?”

“Yugyeom’s contact photo,” you clarify, tilting the phone screen so he can see. “He’s got robes on.”

“Oh.” He looks away again, cheeks flushing. “Yeah. It’s lame, I know.”

You shake your head. “Don’t say that. I think it’s nice.”

Jungkook doesn’t get a chance to respond, but it’s impossible to miss the grin that crinkles his face and settles there. There’s a staticky hum as the line connects, and then Yugyeom’s voice is filling the vehicle, sounding as if he’s just rolled out of bed.

“Whaddaya want?”

“We can’t find your fucking house, man,” Jungkook says bluntly, turning onto a street that you’ve driven down at least three times by this point. “Where do you live?”

On the other end of the line, Yugyeom sighs. “Okay, okay. What street are you guys on?”

That gives Jungkook pause. “Uhh, Cedar Street? Oak Avenue? It has a tree name.”

“Neither of those streets exist, dude.”

“Birch Boulevard!” you exclaim. “We’re on Birch Boulevard. I saw the sign a while back.”

“Ah, okay. You’re close, then. Do you see a sign for Linden Lane?”

You glance around until you alight on a signpost. “Yeah.”

“Turn right onto it. Then take the first left, go past the cul-de-sac, and another left. Do not pass Go, and do not collect two-hundred dollars. I’m the fifth house on the right.”

He ends the call before you can ask him to repeat the directions, and you send Jungkook a helpless look. “Did you get all of that?”

“Besides the overused Monopoly joke?” Jungkook asks.. “Yeah, I got it. Right, left, left. Fifth house. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to get there.”

And true to his word, you arrive at the house three minutes later. Yugyeom is standing on the front step with rumpled hair and a duffel bag at his feet, and you snort when he throws open the car door and flops across the entirety of the backseat.

“Rough morning?”

“Stayed up late packing,” he says by way of explanation, his eyes already beginning to drift shut. Jungkook immediately turns the music up, and you giggle when Yugyeom shoots upright at the bassline that’s now shaking the entire vehicle. “I’m up, I’m up! Jeez, man.”

Jungkook just sends him an innocent grin in the rearview mirror. You turn the volume back down to a reasonable level as Yugyeom directs Jungkook onto the best route to take out of the neighborhood, and it isn’t long before you’re merging onto the highway that leads toward the coast.

You’re just beginning to get comfortable, staring out the window at the passing cityscape, when your leg vibrates with an incoming text notification. Glancing down, you see that Jungkook’s phone has slipped between your thigh and the seat, the screen lit with a new message.

[10:21am] Minho: gonna be at the store in 10

“Minho says they’ll be at the grocery store in ten minutes,” you relay to your companions. “We have a little longer to go. Probably another half hour or so.”

“We wouldn’t be so far behind if Yugyeom didn’t live in a fucking labyrinth,” Jungkook remarks, but a glance at the young man in the backseat reveals that he’s drifted off despite your earlier stunt. Rolling his eyes, he turns to you. “Can you text him back, Noona?”

You nod and hold out his phone so he can unlock it with his thumb. “Hey,” you say once you’ve hit send on the message. “Do you have a contact photo for me?”

Jungkook stiffens slightly, his gaze skittering between you and the road. “Oh. Uh, yeah, I guess I do. But it’s nothing, really. It’s kinda lame. But you… you can look at it if you want.”

Curiosity piqued, you scroll down until you find your name, tapping on the image beside it. The photo is from several years ago, during a family trip to the lake house with the Jeons. You are no older than fifteen, your arm slung around a fourteen-year-old Jungkook as the two of you stand knee-deep in the lake, wearing swimsuits and bright smiles. In the background, you can just barely make out a blurry Jimin mid-splash.

“I remember this,” you murmur, zooming in on your smiling faces. “That was a fun summer.”

“Junghyun was grumpy the whole time,” Jungkook recalls with a laugh. “But we had a good time, didn’t we? We practically lived in the lake that entire week.”

“Or that old canoe.” You grin, taking one last look at the photo before locking his phone and handing it back to him. “Remember? We’d always row out too far, and our parents would scream for us to come back before we fell in and drowned.”

Jungkook snickers. “As if I’d ever let you drown. I’m a great swimmer.”

“Are you saying I’m not?”

He backpedals immediately, realizing his mistake. “Hey, don’t twist my words. I said nothing of the sort.”

“That’s what I thought.” Giggling, you turn to look out the window, propping your chin in your palm as you watch the scenery flash past. “And I want that photo, by the way. Send it to me?”

“As soon as we get to the store,” Jungkook promises. “Speaking of which, we’re getting close. Keep an eye out for the exit for me?”

“Deal.”

///

Jimin and the others are waiting in the parking lot when you arrive, perched on and around the van as they watch Jungkook expertly maneuver the car into a neighboring parking space. “Took you long enough,” your brother says once the engine is cut, hopping off the hood and landing lightly on both feet.

“We’re here now, aren’t we?” you snark as you join the others hovering near the grocery store entrance. Jimin makes a face at you, and you stick your tongue out in response. After a quick huddle—wherein you form a very haphazard game plan—everyone disperses. Jimin grabs a shopping cart and heads inside with Taehyung and Minho, the latter of whom is trying to clamber his way into the cart to hitch a ride.

Sighing, you grab a shopping cart of your own and scan the interior of the store for the produce section. They’ve rearranged the aisles since you were last here, but you quickly find what you’re looking for and begin picking your way over when Jungkook materializes at your side.

“So, what are you thinking for food?” he asks, nudging you away so he can push the cart in your stead.

You allow him to take over, gesturing toward your destination. “I know my brother,” you tell him dryly. “He’s going to buy meat and completely forget about everything else. And I don’t trust any of you to buy a single fruit or vegetable.”

“I like fruit and vegetables,” Jungkook defends.

“You like everything,” you correct, flashing him a teasing grin before leading him into the produce section.

Grocery shopping with Jungkook turns out to be surprisingly pleasant—comfortable, even. He proves adept at finding the ripest fruits and greenest vegetables, and when you ask him to find some apples, he trots off immediately and returns with a handful of sweet potatoes in addition to your requested fruit.

You raise an eyebrow. “What are you planning to do with those?”

Jungkook feigns offense, slapping a hand to his heart. “That’s cold, Noona. Don’t you think I can cook?”

“I’ve never seen you cook in my life,” you respond. “How am I supposed to know if you can or not?”

“I can,” he promises. “And I’ll prove it too, if you let me.”

You get the feeling he’s not just talking about cooking anymore, but he doesn’t give you a chance to answer. Dropping the apples and potatoes into the cart, he flashes you a crooked little smile before turning toward a display of cabbages, leaving you to wonder at what exactly is going through his head.

///

It’s nearly one in the afternoon when you arrive at your family’s lake house. The last stretch of the drive takes you through the forest along a winding, narrow road, but Jungkook is a capable driver and you know the way well enough to warn him about any upcoming hairpin turns. Piling out of the car, the three of you make quick work of putting the food safely into the refrigerator. By the time you’re finished, Jimin and the others have arrived as well, lugging their belongings inside and setting them inside the entryway.

“So who’s sleeping where?” Taehyung asks, glancing around the house. It’s modestly sized, with a living area on one side and a combined dining room and kitchen on the other. Three bedrooms and a bathroom branch off of the hallway between them, ending in a back door that leads out to the lake. Through the window, you can see the water glimmering in the sunlight, hazy and golden.

“We’ll have to share,” Jimin says. “ If Noona takes one room, that leaves two bedrooms and the pullout couch for the rest of us.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “Rock, paper, scissors?” he suggests, drawing a chorus of groans.

“I always lose!” Jimin complains. “And Taemin cheats!”

“Do not!”

Laughing at the indignant expression on your brother’s face, you decide to leave them to it and head to your bedroom with your luggage in tow. The room is just as you remember it, with a bed tucked against one wall and a dresser on the opposite. There are three doors in total—one that you just entered through, and another that opens into a small closet. The third leads to a bathroom—shared with the bedroom on the other side of the wall that usually belongs to Jimin. Vaguely, you wonder who will be sleeping there tonight, before setting your suitcase on the bed and unzipping it.

“Fuck!”

You jump at the sudden shout, poking your head out into the hallway to see what’s causing all the commotion. Yugyeom is kneeling on the floor with his head down, a crestfallen Taemin standing beside him. Meanwhile, Taehyung and Minho look supremely pleased with themselves, and you see why when they grab their bags and practically skip to the master bedroom across the hall, collapsing onto the king-sized bed.

“Have fun on the couch, losers!” Jimin singsongs, grabbing Jungkook by the wrist and dragging him into their newly won bedroom on your side of the hallway. “Lake in fifteen minutes, so get changed! Last one there’s in charge of dinner!”

The door slams shut behind him, and you roll your eyes before turning back to your opened suitcase and pulling out a book. There’s a perfectly shaded spot beneath one of the trees along the water, and you fully intend to capitalize on the last few hours of daylight before the sun begins to set.

Minho is the only one outside when you exit the house, standing on the dock in a pair of green swim trunks. He waves at you cheerily before cannonballing into the lake, and you squeak as the resulting splash sends water splattering across the front of your shirt.

“Sorry!” he calls when he resurfaces, shaking his hair out like a wet dog.

You wave off his apology with a laugh, settling down onto the soft grass at the base of your chosen tree and opening up your book. The other boys trickle out of the house one by one, but you barely notice. It isn’t until a triumphant shout pierces the air that you finally glance up to see what’s causing all the commotion, your gaze immediately landing on Taehyung standing on the back steps of the house.

“Trust me,” he says, unbothered by his apparent tardiness. “You don’t want me to make dinner.”

Minho pulls a face and straightens up from where he’d been floating on his back. “You know, he kinda has a point there.”

Murmurs of agreement all around. Taehyung gives Jimin a smug smile, who scowls from where he’s sitting at the end of the dock, his bare feet dangling over the edge. “So what now? Do we have to play rock, paper, scissors again?”

“Nah, I’ll do it.”

Every head whips around to face Jungkook, yours included. He’s standing a short ways from where you’re sitting—his approach so quiet that you hadn’t even heard him arrive. The last time you checked, he’d been diving off the dock with Minho and Yugyeom, water pooling in his collarbones and dripping down the ridges of his taut abdomen each time he resurfaced.

Not that you’d been looking, of course.

“Really?” Jimin looks aghast at his best friend’s declaration. “You can cook?”

Jungkook scoffs in disbelief and plops down beside you, leaning back against the tree trunk. “Why does everyone in your family seem surprised by that?” he asks, his lip jutting out in a petulant frown. “Do I seem like someone who can’t cook?”

“Yes,” you tell him honestly, marking your page and letting the book fall shut. “Don’t take it personally, though. Men only learn how to cook in college when they have to start fending for themselves. And sometimes, not even then.”

The noise that leaves Jungkook’s mouth can best be described as disgruntled, but he doesn’t press any further. Instead, he peers over your shoulder to get a look at the cover of your book, mouthing the title to himself before glancing at you. “Haven’t I seen you reading this before?”

“Probably,” you admit. “It’s an old favorite.”

He hums, slouching back against the tree again, and when you look over, you see that both his eyes have fallen shut. With his mouth parted and his dark lashes resting on his cheeks, he looks years younger than he is—and so much more like the Jungkook you used to know.

“Tired?” you whisper.

“Long drive,” Jungkook whispers back, his head already beginning to loll. “Lemme sleep, Noona.”

Smiling to yourself, you return to your book and leave him to rest.

///

“So, what are you even planning to make?” Jimin asks, swinging his legs. He’s seated atop the kitchen counter, taking up the majority of what precious little space there is to begin with, and Jungkook sighs deeply as he’s forced to dodge around him yet again to peer into the refrigerator.

“You’ll see.”

“I don’t think you even know yet,” Taemin pipes up from the doorway. The other boys are in the living room playing Mario Kart, but Taemin and Jimin have selflessly pulled themselves away from the game to help their friend in the kitchen—or so they say. As far as you’re concerned, they’ve been nothing but a nuisance thus far, but you don’t voice that particular thought aloud.

“Ramen doesn’t count as making dinner,” Jimin points out snidely when Jungkook pauses too long next to the box of ramen packs. “Anyone can boil water. And you don’t get to add an egg and call it fancy, like you usually do.”

“My ramen is delicious, excuse you,” Jungkook retorts, pointing a spatula at him. “And that’s not even what I’m making, so fuck off.”

Jimin shrugs, but shuts his mouth nonetheless. You take the opportunity to throw some pork belly at him, the meat wrapped neatly in paper and tied off with twine. “Here,” you tell him. “You could at least make yourself useful and start grilling the meat.”

“Okay, mom,” your brother grumbles under his breath, hopping off the counter. He and Taemin head out to the back porch where the grill sits, and you join Jungkook at the stove where he’s staring thoughtfully at an empty pan.

“Try twisting the dial. I’ve heard that helps.”

Jungkook snaps out of his daze and turns to you. “Huh?”

“The stove. It won’t light itself, you know.”

Chuckling, Jungkook twists the dial as instructed, adding a drizzle of oil to the pan. As it heats up, he turns and selects a knife from the cutlery drawer. The sweet potatoes he’d insisted on purchasing are already washed and peeled, and you watch as he begins to slice them, your gaze automatically flitting down to his exposed forearms, his muscles flexing with every movement.

“Hey, Noona? Can you do me a favor?”

You blink, tearing your gaze from the branching veins lining his arms. “What?”

Jungkook, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice your distracted state. “Can you put the rice in the microwave?” he asks, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Why?” you tease. “Are you still scared?”

“Of course not,” he retorts, but you don’t miss the wary look that flashes across his face when you plop the rice inside and go to punch in the cook time.

The remainder of the cooking goes smoothly. Jimin and Taemin return with the grilled meat, and Jungkook rebuffs your offer to set the table, leaving his position at the stove to lay plates and utensils down on the table himself. “I’m just about done, anyway,” he tells you, gesturing at the plate of glazed sweet potatoes on the counter. “Sit down and relax, Noona.”

“Fine,” you relent, taking a seat. Jimin takes the chair beside you, and Taemin plops down on his other side. Jungkook sits down just to your left once he’s finished laying out the food, and for a brief, insane moment, you almost think that he’s going to repeat what he’d done at his graduation dinner. But the dark-haired young man remains on his best behavior, keeping his hands to himself under the table, and you aren’t sure whether you’re grateful or disappointed.

The meal flies by in a flurry of laughter and conversation. Jungkook discovers that his glazed sweet potatoes have adhered to the plate, and sends everyone into hysterics when he promptly starts spinning it around like a steering wheel.

It’s a good night. And at the end of it, you go to bed warm and content, with a belly full of food and a smile on your face.

///

You awaken to the sound of chirping songbirds and gentle waves lapping at the shore the next morning, thoroughly rejuvenated after an undisturbed night’s sleep. Stretching your arms overhead, you yawn and bask in the comfort of your bed for a few more moments before getting up and heading to the bathroom, thankful that you don’t have to fight anyone for sink occupancy. The toilet seat is even down, which comes as a welcome surprise, all things considered.

Before long, you are back in your bedroom, rifling through the contents of your suitcase. Belatedly, you realize that you’ve packed only one swimsuit—and a bikini, at that. Cheeks warming, you pull the two pieces out, holding them up against your body. Has it always been this small? You don’t remember. All you know is that Jungkook has two fully functional eyes, and there’s no way that he won’t be looking at every inch of skin you choose to expose.

In the end, you settle on wearing the bikini beneath a flowy, floral kimono-style robe, tied at the waist to form a makeshift dress. The ensemble reaches just past your knees and is sheer enough to still show skin, but you no longer feel as self-conscious going out into the view of your companions and that’s a victory as far as you’re concerned. Checking your reflection one last time, you adjust your sash before opening the bedroom door and heading down the hall for some breakfast.

Unsurprisingly, the kitchen is empty when you walk in, tiptoeing past a still slumbering Taemin and Yugyeom on the pullout couch. You savor the quiet as you start up the old coffeemaker, pulling a mug from the cabinet and rinsing it out to get rid of any lingering dust. The weather app on your phone promises that it’ll be a clear, cloudless day, and a glance out the window confirms it. Silently, you debate whether or not to crack a window.

Your musings are interrupted by the arrival of Taehyung, his brown hair sticking up at all angles. Blearily, he trundles to the fridge and grabs the orange juice, seemingly two seconds away from chugging it straight from the carton before you clear your throat and push a clean glass toward him. You think you hear him mumble a thank you.

As the morning wears on, the others slowly begin to trickle in. Breakfast is a disorganized affair that leaves bread crumbs all over the counter, and nearly causes a fight when everyone seems to want their eggs cooked a different way.

“Look, if you wanted your egg soft-boiled, you should’ve made it yourself!” Jimin grouches to Taehyung, the t-shirt over his head muffling his words. Everyone else is already in the water, splashing about, but you’re seated on the end of the dock with your brother and Taehyung, who looks thoroughly unfazed behind his tinted sunglasses.

“Maybe if I knew how to soft boil an egg, I would have.”

“Google exists,” Jimin says, finally freeing himself from the shirt and tossing it aside.

Taehyung nods sagely. “Exactly. So why didn’t you use it?”

Jimin is beginning to look positively murderous, so when Minho swims over and taps your submerged ankle, you are beyond grateful for the distraction. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Are you gonna swim, or are you gonna sit onshore the whole time?” Minho asks, raking his wet bangs out of his eyes. “The water’s not even cold, so get in here.”

Pointedly, you wiggle your toes. “Feels pretty cold to me.”

“Okay, fine. It’s cold.” Minho grins. “But you get used to it.”

You sigh at his easy admission. “All men do is lie. How am I supposed to believe you?”

He raises a brow. “Do I need to pull you in and dunk you under?”

“I will kick you if you even try,” you tell him, standing up and shrugging off your robe. An audible hush falls as the gauzy material pools around your ankles—Jungkook stops wrestling with Yugyeom and trying to dunk him underwater, and Taemin pauses mid-splash, his hair drenched and dripping.

It’s Minho who breaks the silence first, letting loose a low whistle of appreciation. “Damn, {Name}.”

Jimin grabs a shoe from the pile on the dock and chucks it at him, hard. “Dude, that’s my fucking sister!”

“Ow! What the fuck, man, that’s my shoe!”

“Quit ogling my sister!”

“I’m not!” Minho yells, just as Jimin chucks the other shoe and hits him square in the mouth. “Okay, I’m not anymore. Sorry, okay?”

Once he’s sufficiently sure that Jimin is done attacking him, Minho turns to you. “I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. You know that, right?”

“I know,” you reassure him. “Honestly, it was kinda good for my self-esteem. And I don’t need you defending my honor, or whatever it is you think you’re doing,” you add, glancing over at your disgruntled brother.

“Men are pigs,” Jimin sniffs. “I won’t apologize.”

You ruffle his hair good-naturedly. “I know, Chim. You’re right.” Then your smile turns mischievous. “I won’t apologize for what I’m about to do, either.”

And then you grab him by the arm and drag him into the lake, the cold water submerging you in an instant and stealing the breath out of your lungs. You’re both gasping by the time you resurface, blinking water out of your eyes, and you squeal when Jimin takes the opportunity to splash you again.

Hours pass—the sun rising higher overhead. Around noon, Taehyung disappears inside the house and returns with an assortment of snacks and sandwich fixings, ushering everyone over for an impromptu lunch on the dock. You dip your feet into the water as you munch on a bag of chips, and Jungkook plops down beside you with a juice box in one hand and a ham sandwich in the other.

“Wanna go for a ride in the canoe after lunch?” he asks, jabbing a thumb back in the direction of the house. “I found it in the garage.”

You laugh. “Really? I thought for sure we got rid of that thing. Are you sure it hasn’t sprung a leak?”

Jungkook’s face crinkles into a grin. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, huh?”

You grin back and raise your cup, the lemonade inside swishing around. “I’ll hang on to this, just in case I need to start bailing water out.”

Lunchtime winds down gradually. Jungkook polishes off his sandwich and trots off to fetch the canoe, waving off your offers to help before disappearing around the corner of the house. You watch him return a few minutes later from your seat on the end of the dock, resting your weight back on your hands and swirling your pruney toes in the water. He’s stripped off the loose white tee he’d donned during lunch, his golden skin cast in shadow by the canoe perched across his bare shoulders, and your gaze trails from his bulging biceps down to the ridges of his abdomen. The muscles flex with every step he takes, and you hastily take another sip of lemonade in an effort to combat the sudden dryness in your throat.

With a grunt, Jungkook comes to a stop at your elbow, heaving the boat into the water. The impact sends ripples across the lake and the butterflies in your belly into a frenzy, and you nearly fall off the dock when Jungkook touches your shoulder gently.

“Ready to go, Noona?”

You nod, not quite trusting yourself to speak. Jungkook holds the boat steady with one hand while offering you the other, and you gratefully grasp it as you step off the dock. The canoe rocks dangerously when Jungkook clambers in after you, but quickly steadies when he picks up an oar and jabs at the dock to push off into the lake. The glimmering expanse of blue water stretches before you, and you relax as you let your fingers dangle off the side of the boat, watching ripples form beneath your fingertips.

“I can help row,” you say after a few moments, casting a glance over at Jungkook. He’s settled into a rhythm now, the veins and tendons in his arm flexing with each movement, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he’s sitting.

“You—” Jungkook says, fixing you with a playful stare, “—just enjoy the ride, yeah?”

Shaking your head, you smile and turn back around to admire the view. Sunlight reflects off the rippling water, lending a golden iridescence to the glittering blue depths. In the distance, the opposite shoreline rises up, crowned with rocky outcrops and majestic dark green pines.

With a start, you realize how far away you’ve gotten from the other boys. The shouts and laughter from the house are quickly fading into the background, and you nervously turn to look at Jungkook as he rows you even further.

“God, my dad would freak if he saw us right now,” you remark, trying to diffuse the sudden tension that’s settled. “I mean, we don’t even have life jackets. He’d lose his mind.”

Jungkook hums. He stops rowing, his hands stilling on the oars, and you’re just about to ask him what’s wrong when a warm hand glides up your thigh.

“You think you could maybe stop talking about your dad, princess?” Then he smirks. “Unless you’re into the whole daddy kink thing, because I’d be down to explore that at some point if you want—“

“Jungkook!” you hiss, scandalized.

“Yes?” the young man in question hums, his face the picture of innocence. It’s hard to muster up your vocabulary when he’s looking up at you with those wide doe eyes, but you somehow manage to prevail over your malfunctioning brain.

“We’re in public!” you whisper, glancing back at the shore where your brother and his friends have started an impromptu game of water polo.

Jungkook smirks crookedly at you. “Guess you better not scream too loud, then.”

And then, before you can open your mouth to protest—before you can even try to call his bluff—he’s slipped his hand into your bikini bottoms and found his way to your clit. Your entire body spasms when he presses into it experimentally, and the resulting snicker that escapes him is nothing short of infuriating.

“Careful,” he coos, laying his free hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing nonsensical circles into the soft skin. “Don’t wanna rock the boat, now.”

Then he returns his attention to your clit, pinching the nub just to watch you jolt in his grasp and soothing you with a gentle kiss to the knee afterward. Your skin warms beneath the plush of his lips, and the pleased smile that curves them is all the warning you get before he sheathes a single finger in your clenching core. “Jungkook—” you gasp, shoving uselessly at his bare shoulders, but you can’t keep the edge of desire out of your voice. You can’t hide the growing wetness between your legs either—wetness that he most certainly feels as he slips another finger inside, pumping into you with ease.

“God, look at you,” he murmurs, his eyes trained on the way you clench around him. “So pretty like this. So pretty, getting fucked by my fingers. I could do this all day.”

“We—we don’t have all day,” you whisper. The last syllable dissolves into a moan as Jungkook eases a third finger into your cunt, and you scrabble to ground yourself when he picks up his leisurely pace. One hand settles on the edge of the boat, your fingernails digging into the wood, while the other finds Jungkook’s bicep. His arm flexes beneath your grip with each snap of his wrist, and you keen when he crooks his fingers just right and sends stars skittering across your vision.

He knows that you’re getting close. You can tell from the growing furrow between his brows and the hard set of his jaw, and you can tell that he won’t stop until he gets you off. Concentration etches across his face, and you gasp when his thumb finds your clit again.

“Oh, fuck, Jungkook—”

“That’s it,” he rasps, digging deeper and thumbing roughly across your bundle of nerves. “Cum for me.”

And you do. With one final flick of his wrist, Jungkook sends you hurtling over the edge that he’s so effortlessly built, a cresting wave of pleasure overtaking your body and spreading through your veins. Your leg kicks out instinctively, rocking the canoe dangerously in the water, but Jungkook catches you by the ankle with his free hand and presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. He shifts his weight until you’re steadied once more, and only then does he ease his fingers out of you, raising them to his mouth to lick them clean.

“Think we can sneak away so I can fuck you properly?” he asks.

Your cheeks heat up at the lewd display, warming even more when his words register in your muddled brain. “Oh my god, Jungkook.”

“That’s exactly what you’ll be saying when I really get my hands on you,” Jungkook agrees. Flashing you a mischievous grin, he drops his hand over the edge of the boat, letting the turquoise water wash away any lingering fluids. “What do you think? The backseat of my car isn’t half bad…”

“I will literally push you into this lake,” you tell him, trying and failing to hide a disbelieving laugh. “Why are you such a perv?”

“You like it,” Jungkook defends immediately. “‘Sides,” he adds, casting a wary glance at the shore where Jimin and the others are still fully engrossed in their game, “I wanna kiss you while I fuck you. It’s not as good like this.”

At that, something dangerously close to affection blooms in your belly, winding its curious tendrils around your heart. Swallowing the feeling down, you pick up one of the oars instead, handing it over to him before hefting the other. “Come on,” you murmur. “They’re gonna get suspicious if we’re gone too long.”

Jungkook hums. “Yeah. Probably.”

And then he raises the oar you just handed him, lifting it until the paddle covers both of your faces, and boldly plants a firm kiss on your mouth.

“I’ll row us back,” he declares casually when he pulls away, as if he hasn’t just stolen all the oxygen from your lungs. As if your lips aren’t burning where he’s kissed you, your cheeks hot beneath his gentle exhalations. As if you aren’t positively thrumming with the desire to pull him back in, and maybe take him up on his offer to fuck you in the backseat of his beat-up sedan.

“Yeah,” you say instead, your voice hoarse. “Let’s go.”

///

What few remaining hours of daylight you have, you decide to spend inside. Jungkook gets roped into the water polo match as soon as the two of you return to shore, and you take the opportunity to slip into the house and clean yourself up. Safely locked away in the bathroom, you strip off your damp bikini bottoms and toss them in the sink. The top follows, and you give both a quick wash, doing your best to ignore the remaining slick from your orgasm that stubbornly coats the material.

Once everything is washed and hanging up to dry, you step into the shower. Warm water soaks your hair and slides down your back, and you tilt your head back to let the spray wash your worries away, relishing in the rare moment of peace and quiet.

By the time you’ve toweled off and gotten dressed, you can hear the boys beginning to traipse back into the house. From what you can make out, they’re making dinner plans, and you poke your head out curiously when Jimin mentions you by name.

“What are you saying about me?” you ask, narrowing your eyes accusingly at your brother.

Jimin whirls around, his cherubic face a perfect picture of innocence. “Nothing! I was just talking about your fried rice and how good it is…”

“You’re trying to get me to make you dinner,” you sigh. “I knew it.”

“No, we’ll help!” your brother promises. “I swear, as soon as I get out of the shower, I’ll chop all the vegetables.”

“Sure you will,” you snort, brushing past him and heading for the kitchen.

Much to your surprise, the kitchen is already occupied when you arrive. Jungkook and Yugyeom are at the counter—the former poised with a knife at the ready, about to slice into an onion. The latter is digging through the cabinets, and both turn at the sound of your footsteps.

“Hey,” Yugyeom says. “You probably know where the bottle opener is, right?”

You nod. “Left of the sink, second drawer down.” Then you turn your attention to Jungkook, peering curiously over his shoulder. “What’s the onion for?”

“Dinner,” he replies, flashing you a crooked little smile. “We’re making fried rice, aren’t we?”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest and races to catch up, thumping erratically against your ribcage. It’s hard to ignore the warmth blossoming in your belly—near impossible to ignore the butterflies that have made a home there—but you somehow manage to school your expression into something passably neutral and busy yourself with the other vegetables on the counter. “I see Jimin got to you, too. Is the other cutting board clean?”

Jungkook nods, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the dish rack. “Washed it last night, yeah. It’s all yours, Noona.”

You hum and skirt around Yugyeom to grab the clean board and another knife. Chopping vegetables goes a lot faster with two people, and Yugyeom does his part by cracking open two bottles of beer and plunking one down next to each of you before opening a third for himself. “Hydrate,” he orders, and you roll your eyes before picking it up and taking a sip.

It doesn’t take long to finish making dinner. As promised, Jimin joins you as soon as he’s out of the shower, plucking the knife out of your hand and nudging you aside so he can finish cutting the vegetables. You fire up the stove and drizzle some oil into a pan, and smile when Taehyung brings you the container of leftover rice and a large serving bowl.

“You know what we should do?” Minho asks as you’re all sitting down to eat. Yugyeom’s opened more beers, and Jimin’s brought out the wine as well. Jungkook is spooning out fried rice for everyone, and you accept the bowl he hands you with a murmur of thanks before looking at Minho expectantly.

“What should we do?”

“Go to the beach,” he replies, tilting the remainder of his beer back into his mouth. “It’s only an hour away, isn’t it?”

“Closer to half an hour without traffic,” Jimin corrects. “But, yeah, we should go. That would be fun.”

By the time dinner is finished, you’ve finalized plans to drive down to the beach in the morning. “Remember, we’re leaving at ten,” you tell Jimin, elbowing him in the ribs. “That means you have to wake up before ten.”

“I know!” your brother whines, rubbing the spot where you elbowed him with a grimace. “Jeez, Noona. I’m good at waking up. It’s Jungkook and Tae you have to worry about.”

“Says the punk who takes hour-long showers,” you snark. “What are you gonna do when you have to pay your own water bills, huh?”

“Shower at your place,” he replies smugly. “You can’t turn me away. I’m your brother.”

“Please, that’s exactly why I can turn you away, you little mooch.”

“You love me!”

“Really? You wanna test that theory?”

The remainder of the evening passes in a blur of booze and board games, unearthed from the closet in the hall. Despite your collective agreement to go to bed early, it’s past midnight when you finally bid everyone goodnight and crawl underneath your covers. Shutting your eyes, you will your brain to settle and your limbs to relax, and you’re on the verge of drifting off when your phone suddenly buzzes. Lazily, you roll over and snatch the device off the nightstand, taking in the late hour before your eyes flit down to the new notification and go wide.

[1:02am] Jungkook: IMG_497

You freeze, thumb hovering just above the message. Even when your screen goes dark again, you can’t erase the sight of his name lighting up your phone, the attachment sitting there like a taunt. You shouldn’t open it. You can’t open it.

But curiosity gnaws at your belly, fraying the edges of your resolve. Slowly, you wake the screen, watching as Jungkook’s name fills it once more. You hesitate, bottom lip finding its way between your teeth.

And then your phone buzzes again, several times in quick succession.

[1:04am] Jungkook: i miss you, noona

[1:04am] Jungkook: miss your pretty face

[1:04am] Jungkook: miss how tight your pussy felt around my fingers

You drop the device as if scorched. It takes several moments to gather your wits again, but when you do, pick up your phone, clicking on his name and scrolling up to the attachment. In the darkness of your bedroom, you watch with bated breath as it downloads.

“Fuck.”

The expletive slips past your lips, unbidden, but you can’t help it. Jungkook stares out at you from the photograph illuminating your screen, his eyes hooded and his lips curled into a devious smirk. He’s in the shared bathroom between your bedrooms, and even though it’s dark inside, the flash of his camera is just enough to illuminate the distinctive palm tree patterned shower curtain behind him.

But, you aren’t focused on that.

No, your focus is zeroed in on the foreground of the photo, where you can perfectly make out the head of Jungkook’s cock, sticky and leaking copiously from between his fingers.

“Fuck,” you repeat, louder this time.

And as if reading your mind, another text flashes onto your screen.

[1:07am] Jungkook: wish your pretty little pussy was stretched around my cock right now, princess

You aren’t sure what possesses you to send the response you do, but your thumbs are moving before the more rational side of your brain can catch up and stop you.

[1:07am] You: why don’t you come over and make it happen then?

You’ve only just hit send when the bathroom door swings open, revealing Jungkook standing there in nothing but sweatpants. His face is illuminated in the stark white light shining from his screen, his eyes dark and his smirk even darker. Every movement drips with intent, from the way his lips quirk upward to the way he saunters over to join you on your bed, dropping his phone somewhere amongst the rumpled sheets. The room goes dark.

And then…

“Hey, princess.”

His lips are at your ear, hot breath caressing your cheeks and sending shivers down the length of your spine. The mattress dips beneath his weight as he joins you, a hand finding your bare thigh before sliding up to grasp your hip. Only an oversized t-shirt and a thin pair of cotton panties shield you from his roving fingers, and you can tell from the pleased curve of his mouth that he isn’t going to let either stand in his way. One hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt, dancing along your ribcage, and you let out a breathy gasp when he trails up and skims along the soft skin just below the swell of your breasts.

“Been thinking about you all night, you know,” Jungkook whispers, pushing up your shirt and peppering kisses along every inch of newly revealed flesh. “Been thinking about how pretty you looked, cumming around my fingers, and how much prettier you’d look cumming around my cock.”

Your shirt is long forgotten by this point, tugged overhead and thrown carelessly over his shoulder. Jungkook hauls you closer, slotting himself between your spread legs, and you shiver when he presses the pad of his thumb against your clothed clit, the material uncomfortably damp as it clings to your folds.

“Jungkook—” His name escapes you in an airy whisper. “Please.”

Even in the darkness, you can see the satisfied, self-assured tilt of his lips. “Such a good girl for me,” he croons, leaning down to press a kiss to your waiting mouth. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek while the other remains between your legs, and you gasp sharply when he digs his thumb a little harder against your clit, circling the sensitive bud.

Jungkook seizes upon the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips, licking into your mouth with unrestrained ardor. Your panties are peeled away, the cottony material disappearing right alongside the pressure of his thumb, and the inadvertent whine that escapes you has him chuckling darkly in his throat.

“What is it, princess?” Jungkook rasps, his voice dipping several pitches. “You have to tell me what you want, remember?”

You clutch at his wrist weakly, tugging it back between your legs until he finally indulges you and resumes his lazy revolutions around your clit. “Want you,” you whisper. “Want you inside me.”

Jungkook lets out a pleased hum, rewarding you with a single finger that he slips into your sopping entrance, your juices aiding the smooth glide as he curls it up in search of the spot that’ll have you seeing stars. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t,” you agree shakily. “But it looks like you are, so why don’t you let me help you out?”

Jungkook chuckles softly, his lips ghosting across the swell of your cheek. “Oh, yeah? And how exactly do you plan on helping me?”

Slowly, you reach down, letting your fingers graze the sizable bulge in his sweatpants. “You said it yourself, didn’t you? Me, stretched around your cock?”

A low groan escapes him when you give him a firm stroke, your fingers barely meeting around his length. “On your back,” he commands hoarsely, nudging you backward until you’re nestled into your pillows. Freeing his erection from the confines of his sweatpants, he settles comfortably between your spread legs, the mattress groaning in protest at the shift in weight.

“Wait,” you whisper, grabbing his wrist. “Did you hear that?”

His face scrunches in confusion. “Hear what?” he asks, as if he’s never heard that particular string of words before. “Are you sure it wasn’t just—”

He stops mid-sentence, and you both hear it again—the unmistakable creaking of bedsprings from next door. “Shit!” you hiss, scrambling back on the mattress until you’re nearly pressed against the headboard. “Oh, god. That’s Jimin. He’s going to kill you if he finds you in here—”

On the other side of the wall, the door to the shared bathroom opens, the light flickering on and illuminating the crack beneath your door. You hear your brother cursing sleepily under his breath as the toilet lid clatters open, and nearly shove Jungkook off the bed in your haste to get him out of your room.

“You have to go,” you whisper frantically, herding him toward the door that leads out into the hall.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls his pants back over his hips, and you can practically see him willing his erection to go away. “What am I supposed to say if he asks?”

“I don’t know! Pretend you were going for a glass of water or something!”

With a final push, you shove him out of your bedroom, leaning against the door with a relieved sigh when it clicks shut behind him. You hear Jungkook shuffle off just as Jimin flushes, and cast a prayer up to any deities that may exist as you listen to him wash his hands. And it seems your prayers are answered, as quiet descends over the house once more. Off in the distance, you think you hear Minho snoring.

Letting out another sigh, you return to bed, crawling beneath the covers and getting comfortable. And when sleep finally takes you, you dream of Jeon Jungkook.

[princessphilly]

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Word Count: 5118

CW: angst, smut but not super filthy smut (medium filth?), bad language

Dress and shoes that Nina wore in this chapter

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Only three more chapters and an epilogue left

Nina fidgeted as dug into her pocketbook for her keys to her parents’ house. It was time for Sunday dinner, the one meal a week that she wasn’t responsible for cooking and therefore, Nina never missed it. Cooking was not her forte and Nina had no problems with that. However, this Sunday dinner, she needed to talk to her family about their lives changing.

The smell of roast chicken filled the house and Nina took a deep sniff as she opened and closed the door. Aryanna and Dad were watching the late game aka hate-watching the Ravens vs Saints. The Steelers were playing on Monday night this week. 

“Heey sweettart,” Vernon said, getting up to give his oldest daughter a hug. 

Nina hugged her father back, holding him close for a second. “Hi Dad.”

“Oh no!”

Nina ended the hug, turning with her father towards the tv. Lamar Jackson had just run for a 20-yard touchdown. They all groaned; the Steelers needed the Ravens to lose as both teams were running neck to neck for the AFC North crown. As Nina got absorbed into the game, the situation with Sidney was still in the back of her mind. 

Nina had talked to her mom earlier in the day, explaining everything to her mother, well everything but the sex. Tracey had listened with an open ear before telling her daughter not to make a decision over her potential happiness just because of how it could affect her family. Tracey had reminded Nina that Jason, while he was at UNC now, had been a 5-star tight end prospect and they dealt with the media when it was time for him to sign with a college. 

After talking to her mom, Nina had taken a nap before coming to sunday dinner. As she watched the game, waiting to eat, Nina hoped for courage. However, she kept it to herself when it was time to eat, instead listening to Aryanna talk about school, her dad talk about his new position at work which meant that he wasn’t going to be going out on the road as much anymore. Nina shared some stories about her clients while Tracey talked about the switch to travel nursing over working in the hospital. But when it was over, Nina gulped and summoned her courage.

“So, I got news,” Nina started once dinner was over and dessert was served. She looked down at her glass of water. Before she could continue, Aryanna piped up. “Let me guess, you’re breaking up with Sidney Crosby because you’re a punk.”

“Aryanna!” 

Nina glared at her little sister while Tracey reprimanded, “That was rude, little girl.”

“Sorry,” Aryanna muttered.

“Anyway, before I was rudely interrupted,” Nina said, “I have news. After thinking about it, talking to Sidney, and going over the pros and cons, I’ve decided to give him another chance.”

Tracey smiled as Aryanna shouted yes. Vernon looked at his daughter and carefully said, “Are you ready for it?”

Nina grimaced. “As ready as I can possibly. Are y’all?”

“We only want you to be happy, sweetie,” Tracey consoled. “Plus, I saw those pics of you two. He’s smitten.”

Nina groaned while Aryanna laughed. Vernon added, “We were already planning to move soon anyway. We’ve been looking at homes in South HIlls and we just closed on a house in Mt. Lebanon.”

“Oh wow. When was I going to find out,” Nina said with a smirk. She knew her parents had been thinking of moving for a while but the market had been super hot for a long time. Before she had moved into her current apartment, Nina had heard of the different arguments her parents had about moving to different areas. But before they could find somewhere, someone else would snap it up.

Tracey grinned. “We weren’t going to say anything until we closed because of how long it took to find somewhere. It’s taken almost two years and we even saved enough to offer forty percent as a down payment. It’s a fixer-upper though but it has a bigger backyard for my garden and the schools are better.”

“What are you going to do with this house,” Nina asked before taking a bite of her sweet potato pie. Fuck, she wished she could bake and cook just so she could make herself sweet potato pie all of the time. 

Vernon replied, “Probably sell. There are people looking to buy even though this area isn’t that great. ”

“I guess it’s settled. This is exciting though.”

Tracey snickered before looking at her husband. “I hope you are still excited when we need you to help pack, Ni-ni.”

Nina looked to her right before taking out her phone and sending a quick message. Free monday? 12pm?

She received a quick response. Yup, just tell me where to meet

Vernon casually commented, “I’m also looking at it this way; this is a practice for when Jason is in the NFL and becomes famous.”

“Good point,” Tracey said. “I can start practicing telling people no even more now.”

Nina laughed. “Looks like I have nothing to worry about then.”

The conversation switched to the Steelers game tomorrow night as they finished dessert.

**

Honestly, Sidney was a bit surprised to get a message from Nina so quickly. He had fully expected her to wait until Wednesday and he had been preparing himself for the worst possible outcome. As a competitor, prepping for each game meant learning his opponents’ strengths and weaknesses. Nina wasn’t his opponent but Sidney was now very aware of the power she had over him with just one look, let alone her touch or words. 

Nina had asked to meet somewhere that wasn’t at their homes. Sidney suggested lunch but after looking at his schedule, he asked if Nina could maybe meet him at the Pens offices and then get lunch after. Fidgeting in the smaller conference room, Sidney began to worry that Nina wouldn’t show up when the clock showed that it was already five minutes past the time they agreed to. But then, Nina wasn’t the most on time person either so Sidney rationalized to himself, he should worry if it was fifteen minutes passed and she still wasn’t here. 

Then outside the door, Sidney saw Nina talking with Evelyn, one of their PR mavens. They were having an animated discussion and Sidney smiled softly. Nina opened the door and grinned at him. “Hi Sid, sorry for being late.”

Evelyn waved at Sidney and he waved back. After Nina walked in, Evelyn peeped in and said, “I was just catching up with Nina since it’s been a while since she’s been here.”

Sidney nodded as Nina replied, “thank you so much for the advice, Evelyn, I will definitely use it!”

Evelyn waved goodbye before closing the door firmly. Nina chose a chair directly across from Sidney and sat down. There was a brief pause before Nina giggled. “Oh my God, you looked like you were about to die before I showed up.”

“Well, I had to remind myself that you’d show up but part of me still was worried because of everything in our last conversations,” Sidney replied. 

The aura in the room turned serious as Nina bit her lip and folded her hands together. “Yeah, those conversations,” Nina started. “I like you a lot, Sidney Crosby, but… I hate this circus that surrounds you. I know that it’s something you can’t control but I hate it. But I realized, especially after talking to my mom, there’s nothing I can do about it now. My life’s forever changed.”

Sidney cleared his throat but Nina stopped him. “Let me finish, Sid because I can already tell you’re ready to make promises you can’t keep. So let me save both of us the headache.”

Sitting back, Sidney leaned in his chair. “What are your plans, pretty girl?”

“You have to get over being super private and claim me publicly. You want me to be yours, Mr. Crosby? Then you have to let the world know we are together. No are they or aren’t they bullshit.”

Nina glared at Sidney when she was done. Sidney flushed; part of him hated the idea of letting the world know more than they really needed to know about his personal life. At the same time, he already knew he was going to do whatever Nina asked him to, in his own way. “You know I don’t use social media,” Sidney began before trailing off. Then he smirked. 

Nina casually said, “you’ll find a way.”

“I already figured it out,” Sidney drawled. “What else do you want, pretty girl?”

“No more surprise meet ups with people from the team, let me know ahead of time. Just like I’ll let you know ahead of time whenever I decide you should meet my fam.”

Sidney actually blushed while Nina arched an eyebrow. “I know I’m amazing but that was a bit uncomfortable when I think back. At least you didn’t abandon me to talk to your teammates and let me fend for myself.”

“I’m sorry, Nina,” Sidney apologized. He felt really bad now: he had been so excited that he really didn’t think about how Nina would have felt. Nina shrugged; it wasn’t that bad to be honest because Sidney stayed at her side, introduced her to everyone, and made sure she was included. But that didn’t mean she wanted him to continue doing that. 

Nina smiled at Sidney and asked, “what do you think, Sid?”

Sidney scratched his jaw as he thought of his reply. It was relatively simple but it would also be life-changing for him. He finally said, “Yes, it all sounds good. But I have one thing?”

“What’s that?”

Sidney smirked as he looked Nina up and down. Nina rolled her eyes as she smiled. She could guess where his mind was, right in the gutter. But Sidney surprised her when he said, “Then let me spoil you.  I have no problem claiming you publicly, but I want you to let me treat you like I’ve been wanting to treat you.”

Nina gave Sidney a bashful smile before looking to the side. “I’ll never say no to purses and shoes but I don’t want you to buy out the store-“

“I already know that, sweetheart,” Sidney firmly said, “but let me treat you like you deserve.”

“Okay, okay,” Nina conceded.

Sidney pushed his chair back, making space. Then he patted his lap. “Come ‘ere.”

Nina got out of her chair and sat on Sidney’s lap. “You know where we are,” she hissed even though she had obeyed him. 

Wrapping an arm around her waist, Sidney smiled. Smelling her coconut-vanilla scent, he realized how much he had missed her. “I know, I’m not going to do anything inappropriate, pretty girl. Just missed having you close to me.”

Sidney kissed the back of Nina’s neck, causing her to shiver. “Watch the postgame of our next game, Nina. Now, what do you want for lunch?”

“Um, honestly, I want Chipotle. I have to get back to work in about an hour so nothing fancy,” Nina replied. 

Turning so that she was facing Sidney, she placed her index finger over his lips when he opened his mouth. “I forgot to add this earlier but I’m also going to say this now. I’m not quitting my job anytime soon. I’m going to finish my Ph.D. and if I decide to stop working, it’s because I plan to teach full-time. So, if you expect I’ll be waiting at home and living for you, now you know that’s not going to happen,” Nina stated. 

Sidney opened his mouth to reply but the door opened. “Hey, I’ve been looking for you, Sidney!”

Nina squeaked in surprise and Sidney sighed. It was Brian Burke and Sidney was sure that it was probably something important but this wasn’t quite the moment where he wanted to see him. 

Brian smiled. “It looks like you two have made up.”

Nina weakly waved. At first, she was going to move off of Sidney’s lap but his hand around her waist made that impossible. “I’d introduce myself but I figure I interrupted,” Brian continued. 

“It’s okay, I was on my way to get lunch,” Nina replied. 

Sidney added, “With me.”

“Don’t forget, you said you wanted to help with more planning for our pride game this season,” Brian reminded Sidney.

“Ohh, the pride game! You’re getting more involved in it? That’s awesome,” Nina exclaimed. 

Sidney blushed as he smiled under Nina’s praise. 

“Would you be interested in being involved, Nina,” Brian asked.

Nina paused for a second, her eyes wide. “Um, sure.”

“I can get your contact information from Sidney,” Brian asked.

Nina nodded as Sidney rubbed his hand up and down her back. Sidney said, “I’ll let you know,” as Brian closed the door. 

Placing a hand over her face, Nina sighed. “Wow.”

“It’s fine. Look, your first volunteer project,” Sidney kidded. 

“I need to eat.”

**

The game against the Isles had gone well. Sidney had tallied two assists and a goal in a 4-2 win after having a four game slump. Normally post-game interviews were a necessary evil but he was a bit nervous this time. Not because he knew they were going to ask about getting out of his slump, but because of what he was going to say. 

The first couple of questions were easy softballs. Then Sidney was hit with the question that opened the door. 

“Sidney, great breaking your slump. There were rumors that your personal life was affecting your game on the ice. What do you think about that?”

Sidney looked at the reporters, all ready for him to give a cliche. Instead, Sidney admitted the truth. “My personal life was affecting my game on the ice. But we’ve fixed our issues and I’m glad.”

There was a pause, as if the reporters didn’t know where to start. Sidney looked at one of the PR interns to the side. The intern gave him a slight smile and a quick thumbs up. Sidney decided to continue, “We prefer to keep our relationship private for now but she means a lot to me and is very important to my life. I will not be answering any more questions about my relationship at this moment.”

Luckily, the rest of the questions were about hockey but Sidney knew that his statement was going to be a big part of what everyone was going to talk about. Once back in the locker room, Geno gave Sidney a big grin. Tanger said, “You did it?”

“Yeah but I’m serious, I’m not going to answer a bunch of questions about my personal life,” Sidney replied. “Now though, every time we struggle, the dumbasses will start talking about it.”

Tanger grimaced as Geno said, “Fuck them.”

Guentzy laughed as he stated, “I agree with Geno. Fuck them.”

Sidney laughed as he pulled his shirt off before pulling off his pads. Sitting in his crocs, hockey pants and pads, Sidney pulled out his phone. There was just one message from the only person who’s opinion mattered to him, wow😍 .

Sidney replied back, made it official for u but in the way u wanted 😁😏

😘🥰 part of me can’t believe it but i’m happy u listened to me, was Nina’s reply. 

Sidney texted, only 4 u, before finishing getting undressed so he could take a shower.

**

To be totally honest, Nina thought her life would have exploded the minute that Sidney admitted that he was seeing someone in the post-game conference after the Isles game. It wouldn’t take much to put 2 and 2 together, especially when she went out with Sidney and the Malkins to a popular Shadyside restaurant the day after. But things were relatively calmer. 

There were still the nasty looks from other people, especially women when Nina was out by herself, running her everyday errands. But there were also people who seemed to defer to her and it felt so fucking weird. Like, if she wanted to, Nina felt like people were ready to let her do whatever she wanted because she was now Sidney Crosby’s girlfriend. 

Nina bit her lip as she waited in line to pay for her groceries. Then someone bumped into her and it was Ron. “Hey Nina, long time no see.”

“Hi Ron,” Nina replied with a strained smile. 

“Not everyday one sees their ex. Look at you, shopping like the rest of us. Your man ain’t ordering groceries for you.”

Nina resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She could feel the eyes of other people at Weis and she knew there were people looking for something to gossip about. Nina definitely didn’t want to give Ron the satisfaction of a reaction. She merely replied, “I have my own life I have to take care of on my own.”

“Oh wow, because I remember the way you two were looking at each other that time we went out on a date. Makes me think you were cheating on me with him,” Ron goaded. 

Nina gave him a blank look. “We were long over, for almost three years, before I went out with Sidney. But you had two other women when we were a couple,” Nina stated with a shrug. “Anyway, it’s my turn to check out. Bye.”

Nina tuned Ron out as she checked out. The cashier commented, “That guy seems like a dick.”

“You live and you learn,” Nina replied with a smile as she paid, unaware that someone had uploaded video of that encounter to the internet.

**

Sidney gulped down his protein shake, home after practice. The season was starting well but he felt like the team could be better. Sidney wanted another cup, one more cup and he felt like this was the year. Then his phone buzzed and he saw it was his mom.

“Hi Mom,” Sidney said, sitting on his sofa. He had some time before he needed to get ready for tonight and it was always good to talk to his mother.

Trina chirped, “Hi Sidney, how are you?”

“I’m doing good, short practice today before our game against New Jersey tomorrow,” Sidney idly replied as he turned his tv on. Flipping through Netflix, he chose an episode of How I Met Your Mother. 

He could hear his mother’s smile through the phone when she teased, “Your father told me you told the press that you are seeing someone last week. Is it that girl you kept talking about over the years?”

Sidney giggle-honked before admitting, “Yes, it is. I’m finally dating Nina.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea? This is something totally different for you,” Trina asked, concerned. Her son had a relationship with Kathy but this situation with this new girl was something totally different. Part of her was worried that since Sidney had wanted this girl for so long, that he was diving into this without really thinking about it.

Sidney replied, “You sound like Nina.”

“Hmm, I do?”

“Yep, Mom, you did,” Sidney said, “Nina wasn’t sure if it was a good idea for a long time but I managed to convince her it was.”

Trina was still feeling skeptical. From what she knew, this girl was from the area, a fan of the team, a different race, and had worked for the team for a period of time. It was possible she could be playing the long game. “Is she there with you now?”

Knowing her son, Trina was convinced that Nina was already living with her son. Her son, when he decided he wanted something, went all out to get it. She was surprised when Sidney said, “No, she’s at work, then she has class.”

“Class,” Trina asked, her tone perking up. This sounded interesting. 

Sidney informed his mother, “Nina decided to get a PhD in rehabilitation science this year. She works as a physical therapist.”

“That sounds interesting, isn’t that how you met her,” Trina idly said. The door opened and Troy stepped in. Trina put her finger to her mouth to shush her husband. 

Sidney scratched his head, wondering where his mother was going with these questions. “Yes. Nina works somewhere else totally different now. But she’s looking into becoming a professor after guest lecturing at, I think, Pitt.”

Trina raised her eyebrows. That was interesting information. Switching the conversation to more mundane subjects, Trina filed that information in the back of her head. It sounded like this Nina was a bit more well-rounded than she thought. 

Sidney sighed when he hung up on his mother. That conversation felt like one thing but he could sense there was another undercurrent. Then he received a picture message from Nina and his mind went straight to the gutter. Sidney sighed; it was going to be a long night.

**

“You look very nice.”

Nina smiled as she replied, “Thank you,” to the guest. 

It was kind of last minute, this dinner that Nina found herself invited to. It was thrown by Nathalie and most of the top brass of the Penguins were here as well as Sidney, the Letangs, and the Malkins. Because Sidney had gone public with their relationship, Nina had found herself suddenly invited. Luckily for her, Nina already had an appropriate cocktail dress for the occasion. 

Her dress was black with an asymmetrical one shoulder with a bow but it came to just above knee level. Nina’s heels were gold, an impulse purchase several months ago that she was happy to have. The outfit was classy, understated, and definitely Penguins colors. 

Sidney seemed to like it as well from the way his arm stayed possessively around Nina’s waist whenever possible. At least it wasn’t a public event; the possessiveness would have looked bad. But because it was informal and in a private room at PPG arena, Sidney was able to get away with it. 

The length was a blessing and a curse. A blessing that it meant that Sidney couldn’t try to do any funny business during dinner but a curse in that the more he touched her, the more Nina wanted him. By the end of the night, it was obvious that Sidney was getting close to losing his cool and Nina was loving it. 

As soon as they got into the car at the end of the night, Sidney pounced. His lips touched hers, demanding and devouring as he kissed her. Then abruptly, Sidney let go. “You'd been torturing me all night in that little black dress. So sexy, the way it showed off my pretty girl’s body.”

Sidney already knew that Nina was perfect in every way anyway. However, as soon as he saw her step in with that black dress and gold heels, it took every ounce of media training and self-control for Sidney not to strip it off of her and fuck her right there. Right now, he was glad that he hired a car after this event. 

Sidney didn’t even do anything in the car other than keep his hand on Nina’s thigh. The difference was that he told Nina every filthy thing he planned to do to her once he got her home. Nina wiggled on the seat, her legs shifting as Sidney whispered what he planned to do to her. It was insane, what he could do to her with his words. 

Nina had expected Sidney to push her against the wall when they got back to his place but instead, he just guided Nina to the kitchen before taking out two glasses. Picking out a wine, Sidney poured two glasses. 

“I’ve missed you in my bed but I’m patient,” Sidney stated, his hands palming Nina’s ass before giving both cheeks a smack. Then Sidney picked up the glasses of wine and passed one to Nina.

Nina smirked. “I’m not,” she said as she took a sip. 

“Can’t be patient for me, pretty girl?”

Nina shrugged as she took another sip. Then she delicately licked a drop that was on her lower lip, causing Sidney to visibly grunt and shudder. “Maybe,” Nina finally replied. 

“Good.”

Sidney sat down in a chair and patted his lap. Nina sat on his lap, the hem of her dress riding up. “Did you have a good time?”

“I actually did for something that was pretty last minute. Don’t ask me if I remember everyone’s name yet.”

“That’s okay,” Sidney reassured Nina. “No one expects you to remember everyone, yet.”

Nina snorted before taking another sip of her wine. Idly, Sidney added, “Fuck, I love this dress.”

“Maybe if you move your hands higher underneath it, you’ll get a surprise,” Nina taunted. Licking her lips, she winked.

Unable to resist a challenge, Sidney moved his hand higher and higher. Then he whistled when he realized Nina’s surprise. “You went commando all night and didn’t tell me?”

“I’m lucky this dress was lined so well that no one could tell,” Nina admitted. “But it was worth it.”

“How,” Sidney asked as his hand touched Nina’s pussy. She was already wet.

Nina smirked. “Because I knew if you found out tonight, the look on your face would have been priceless.”

Sidney ignored that statement as he stroked Nina’s core with his fingers. Rolling her clit with his fingers, Sidney hissed at the idea that Nina was here, with him tonight. His pretty girl, perfect in his lap. "I love how wet you get for me, pretty girl."

"Only for you, daddy," Nina moaned as she clutched his shoulders. Sidney growled at her words, her pussy clenching harder on his fingers. 

Suddenly, Sidney picked Nina up and placed her on the table. Nina smiled as she hiked up her dress and spread her legs. Sidney licked his lips. “We’re gonna see how many times you cum for me tonight, pretty girl.”

“Fuck, I can’t wait,” Nina moaned as his mouth met her core.

**

Sidney woke, at first disoriented because someone else was in his bed and curled up on top of him. Then he realized it was Nina and he relaxed. Her head was on top of his chest, one arm on him as she slept on her side. Carefully extracting himself, Sidney went to the bathroom. After relieving himself, he watched Nina continue to sleep, now curled into herself. Sidney took a quick picture, it was so cute. However, after taking the picture, he checked his messages. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted.

Nina opened her eyes slowly, her body deliciously sore after last night. Stretching out her arms, she sleepily asked, “What’s wrong, Sid?”

“Seems like someone has something against you, pretty girl,” Sidney said, suppressing his fury. 

Nina’s eyes snapped open, sleep now forgotten. Sitting up, she queried, “What happened?”

“There's a video of you with some guy at a market.”

Grimacing, Nina sighed. “I ran into Ron while getting groceries. He was being a jagoff asshole.”

“You don’t look bad at all, PR thinks you handled it perfectly.”

Nina got off the bed and walked over to Sidney. Wrapping her arms around him, she pleaded, “Fuck him and fuck whoever took video.”

Snuggling into Sidney’s chest, Nina nipped one of his nipples. “Plot your revenge later, Sid. It’s eight am and I know you have a maintenance day today. Come back to bed.”

“‘Come back to bed?’ You know this is my bed,” Sidney joked. His anger was going away each second that Nina was pressed against him, her lips giving him little kisses and bites on his upper body. 

Nina looked up at Sidney, giving him soulful eyes. “Please, daddy?”

Trailing her hands around his neck, Nina murmured, “I’ve been so good. Please?”

“Fuck, how can I say no,” Sidney groaned as Nina giggled. Picking her up, he tossed her on the bed. 

Scooting back, Nina spread her legs as Sidney settled in the middle of them. “I love the way you fuck me, Sidney.”

Sidney smirked, his brown eyes smoldering as he crouched over Nina. “Oh do you?”

“Yes, I do,” Nina hummed, her fingers tugging on his chain. “You should do it again.”

Sidney settled between Nina’s thighs, pulling her legs around his waist. His lips lowered to hers in a gentle kiss. Slow and drugging, enough to make both of them red hot for each other, full of promise. Pulling away, Sidney nipped Nina’s lower lip. Nina sucked her lip into her mouth, her brown eyes meeting Sidney’s. Cupping Nina’s chin, Sidney reminded her, “How do you ask, pretty girl?”

“Please fuck me, daddy,” Nina asked, her body arching towards his. “Make me yours.”

“Good girl.”

**

Nina tried hard not to feel self-conscious as she made her way to the ice-level with Aryanna, Catherine and her children, and Anna with Nikita. It had been a week since that awful article with video from her interaction with Ron. It had been set up to make Nina look like a gold digging whore and it hurt to have guys, guys she had only gone out with once or twice, say things that made her seem horrible. Nina hadn’t admitted that part to Sid when he was in a fury about it. Lauren had reminded Nina that men tend to be assholes about women that they couldn’t have and that Nina was way beyond their level even before her current relationship. 

Even though Nina had distracted Sidney that morning, by the afternoon, that article was off the internet. A radio host had mentioned it and then within an hour, issued an apology for talking about it. However, it was forgotten pretty quickly as more people cared about the Steelers potentially staying undefeated with a game coming up against the Browns.

Nina smiled as they reached the ice. The team was doing warm-ups and Sidney was in the midst of his pregame rituals. She actually had more enjoyment from watching Aryanna react to watching the guys on the ice. Tanev gave the glass near them an ice shower while Geno and Kris had greeted Nina and Aryanna while saying hi to their families. Then, very unexpectedly, Sidney broke one of his traditions and came over. Giving the glass a small shower, Sidney waved at Aryanna before smirking at Nina. Nina smirked back before giving Sid a little wave. 

As people took pictures of Sid waving to her, Nina smiled. She could live with this, maybe. ‘No, that was a lie’, Nina thought as they made their way to the family box. She was going to have to live with this now, it was too far gone to go back. And she didn’t want to.

[middleearthpixie]

Seven Days ~ Chapter Twenty-Three

Seven Days -  Modern Tolkien AU

Firefighter Frerin Durin died in a fire set deliberately. But after he helps his brother, Thorin find happiness, Frerin is offered a second chance. He has to prove himself worthy by righting the one major wrong in his life. Otherwise, history will repeat and he will die for good this time. The catch? He has seven days in which to do this and isn’t even certain what his major wrong is.

At least, he doesn’t know for long. 

Syd Prescott has known Frerin since high school. She spent one night with him and then he vanished from her life. Now, he claims he wants to make it up to her, to right was he realizes was his major wrong. But can she trust him? And can he prove to her that she can before it’s too late? 

A/N - I want to apologize for the slow updates, I haven’t been in a great headspace to write, and with the semester starting this week, my free time is going to be at a premium, so updates will probably be even slower. Thanks so much for your patience…

I’d like to take a moment to thank both @laurfilijames and @fizzyxcustard. The last 6 weeks or so have been the longest, and most trying weeks of my life and they each took the time out of their lives to just reach out and see how I was doing, just to make sure I was hanging in, and that means so much to me. They made a dark time a little brighter and I 💜 them for it. Thank you.

Summary: Thorin and Frerin are Christmas shopping, when Frerin gets a nasty surprise, and later, Syd asks Alex for advice on breaking the news to Gram about living in sin with Frerin.

Pairing: Modern!Frerin x OFC Syd Prescott

Characters: Frerin, Syd, Thorin, Alex

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,715

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @msjava1972

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

December 13th

Monday

It was nearly ten when Frerin pulled into the driveway behind Syd’s Jetta and eased the transmission into neutral, then pulled the emergency brake. “So, I have a few errands to run, and I’ll get you a key made.”

She smiled. “Who are you?”

He returned her smile, adding a wink as he said, “I’ve been given a second chance, Syd. I’m  not stupid, you know, so I’m making the most of it.”

She bit back a sigh at the seriousness in his eyes. No man ever looked at her the way did right then. 

“What? You’re staring?”

“I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop,” she admitted softly, letting her gaze drop to the console between them. 

“Syd?” He caught her beneath the chin with a finger and lifted her face gently. “I know you’ve got every reason in the world to think that, but I promise you, it’s not.”

Heat flooded her at his soft admonishment. His eyes were soft, but serious still and a low sigh rose to her lips. “No, it isn’t fair of me to keep bringing it up.”

“You can trust me. I know you’ve got your doubts, but I promise you, Syd, I’m not fucking around on you or playing you or any of that.”

“I know. And that’s why it’s not fair of me to keep hanging onto what happened.”

He grinned. “Hang on to that night, though. That sex was amazing.”

“Frerin.”

“What?” He winked. “It was.”

He then brushed her lips with a light kiss. “Now, let me go. I’ve got this unexpected week off, a new girlfriend to Christmas shop for, and a brother who needs my help with his own shopping. I expect dinner on the table at six, and you on that same table around seven.”

“You are going to be disappointed by the first and we’ll see with the second.”

“Christmas is coming, Frerin’s been a good boy, and he died, remember…”

“You’re going to play that dead thing for everything it’s worth, aren’t you?”

“If it means you naked on the table under me? Hell, yeah. Didn’t I just tell you I’m not stupid?” He winked and drew back. “Go. Before I kill the engine and pull you into the backseat to give your neighbors a show. That happens, and we could end up with Thorin busting both of our asses.”

She bit back a chuckle at the thought, which was almost as horrifying as it was funny to her. “I’m going. I’m going.” She pushed open the door and climbed out, then turned back to him. “You’ll be careful, right?”

His eyes softened once more. “I’ll be fine, honey. I’m on the bench for the next week. No running into burning buildings for Frerin any time soon.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do and I will. I’ll see you later, Syd.”

“Bye, Frerin.”

The rows upon rows of diamonds all sparkled up at Frerin as he said, “Do you at least have an idea of what you want?”

Thorin looked over. “A diamond.”

“Well, no shit, T.” Frerin rolled his eyes as the saleswoman approached and both he and Thorin automatically straightened up. For a moment, when she seemed to glare at them, he felt like a teenager again, about to be bodily escorted from the store.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen. Is there anything I can help you gentlemen with?”

Both he and Thorin straightened up and Thorin said, “Yeah, I’m looking for an engagement ring for my girlfriend.”

“Okay. I can help you with that.”

Frerin looked over at him. “I’ll be down here when you need my opinion, T.”

Thorin nodded. “I’ll holler when I do.”

Frerin moved down along the seemingly endless length of display case, scanning the array of glittering stones in various metal settings. Christmas music played softly overhead, Wham’s Last Christmas, so if he took part in Whamaggedon, he’d be done. But, since he didn’t…

Other men perused the various displays around him, taking care not to bump into one another as the salespeople tried to accommodate as many customers as possible. Part of him wanted to pick a ring out as well. He knew his mind, knew his heart, and knew most of all, he wanted to be Syd’s husband. Wanted to be the father of her children. And he wanted to do all of that as soon as he could. 

But at the same time, he didn't want to scare her off and he ran the risk of doing that if he got down on one knee with a proffered diamond ring less than a month after they began seeing each other. 

Still… the pull of the gemstones was strong and he found himself looking down at an array of rings that could be engagement rings, but weren’t diamonds. One in particular caught his eye—an oval-cut sapphire surrounded by diamonds. 

“Can I help you?”

He looked up and froze as he found himself staring into very family dark eyes. 

The face wasn’t Tori’s, but those eyes most definitely were. His gut kinked and his mouth went dry as he said, “No. I’m just looking for now.”

“Are you certain? I’m free and we’re close to the holidays.”

“What are you doing here?” The words were out before he could think them through, the knot in his gut sending burning anger through him. Burning anger tinged with a hint of something far more uncomfortable. 

Those wide dark eyes blinked with what he knew was feigned innocence. “I beg your pardon?”

“You think I don't know who you are?” He straightened up and took a step back. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m trying to make a sale, Mr. Durin. That’s all.”

“Mr. Dur—I never told you my name,” he paused, his eyes narrowing, “Tori.”

“Tori? I’m sorry, but I don't know who that is.”

“Sure you don’t.” He took another step back as her eyes narrowed just a bit. The look was enough to make his blood run cold. “I think, when I decide to buy a ring, I’ll go somewhere else.”

“A ring? So, you and that woman are serious?”

“What woman?”

Tori’s smile never wavered. If anything, it seemed to grow a bit colder, which made his kinked gut hurt even more. “I assume that there is a woman. But I don't mean to be presumptuous, if it’s another man.”

“Tori—”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Durin, but I don't know who Tori is.” She gestured to her name tag on the lapel of her black blazer. “I’m Christina.”

“Right. And I’ll bet you didn't know who the guy at the book warehouse was either when you pretended to be him to get S—to lure someone out there.”

Christina’s smile faded, but didn't fully disappear. But he didn't miss the way the corners of those thin lips tightened. Still, she shook her head slowly. “I’m sorry, I don't know what you mean. But, if there is anything I can help you with, please let me know.”

“Yeah. I’m good, thanks.”

He turned to walk back over to Thorin, when Christina called, “I know Syd is partial to blue stones.”

That made his blood run colder still. Oblivious to the stares of the others around him, he turned once more. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’m only making a suggestion.”

Fury pumped hot through his veins as he stepped up to her again. “You stay away from her, Tori or Christina or whatever the hell you’re calling yourself, do you understand me? Stay away from her.”

Those eyes went almost perfectly round. “I have no idea what you could mean by that,” she told him.

“You do and you will or else.” He shook his head. “I mean it. Stay away from her.”

“Mr. Durin, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

He backed away from her, bumping into Thorin in the process, who spun about. “Frer, what’s wrong?”

“I’ve got to give Syd a call, T. Do you need me for anything?”

Thorin shook his head. “No. At least, not unless you find fault with this.”

This was a simple platinum ring with a marquise-set diamond with trillions on either side. The urge to call Syd, to warn her, nearly choking him, Frerin barely saw the ring as he said, “No, man. It’s perfect. Al will love it. I’ll be right back.”

He didn't wait for Thorin’s response, but left the store, all too aware of Tori’s eyes boring into his back. Nothing ever made him as uncomfortable as that, and when he was finally out f her eyeline, his roiling belly calmed some. Still, his hands trembled as he tugged his phone from his back pocket and toggled to Syd’s contact. 

“Frerin, what’s up?”

His eyes closed of their own as her voice washed over him and he sank back against the marble wall. “Hey, honey…”

“Is something wrong? You sound weird. Is everything okay?”

“You’ll think I’m fucking crazy, Syd.”

“So what else is new? You say that a lot to me, you know.” Her smile came through in the warmth of her words. “So, try me.”

He smiled. She would believe him. And she’d be worried about him. And worried about him was something he wasn't used to when it came to women who were not his mother or his sister. He hesitated, not wanting to worry her, but at the same time, he had to warn her. 

“Tori is here.”

“What?”

He winced at the horror, the disbelief, in her voice. “I know. It sounds nuts, right? But, I swear to Christ, she’s here.”

“Here where?”

“I’m with Thorin, at the mall.” He glanced over at the jewelry store. Tori was still there, behind the counter, and had moved just enough that he could see her staring at him across the wide corridor. “He’s getting a Christmas gift for your sister and she’s here. Pretending to be a salesgirl named Christina. But, she can probably appear as anyone she wishes.”

“Frerin?”

“I just—I don't know what she’s doing or what she’s planning and but I want you to be careful, okay, Syd?”

“Me? What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.” He looked up to see Tori had disappeared from his line of sight and it unsettled him to no end. Moving away from the wall, he tried to maneuver around the throngs to peer into the jewelry store. 

“Frerin?”

“I’m fine, honey. I’m just… I’m with Thorin and she’s not going to do anything with him right there.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” He tried to force a reassurance he didn't feel into his voice. 

“Just be careful, okay?”

“I will be.” Now he managed a real smile. “You packing your things up?”

“I haven’t even figured out how to tell Gram yet.”

“I’m stealing you back tonight, Syd. Better come up with something.” He turned away from the jewelry store now. “I thought dinner, maybe a movie, then, who knows?”

“I like how this sounds. So, you’re not holding me to cooking?”

“Wait, you can cook?”

“Frerin!”

“What?”

“Frerin.”

He couldn’t hold back his chuckle. “No, I’m not holding you to it, unless you want to cook. But, either way, you have to tell your grandmother I have no intentions of ever bringing you back.”

“Frerin!”

“What? I don’t.”

“I have to come back eventually.”

“Only after I good and thoroughly ruin you, honey.”

“Ruin me?”

“Yeah.” He grinned, his blood warming at the thought. “You have no idea what I want to do with you, Syd.”

“So, tell me.”

“I’ll melt the phone if I do. And there are a lot of old ladies and little kids around me and the old ladies are already giving me the eye, so…”

“That so?”

“It is, honey. You mean to tell me you don't have any fantasies about what you’d like to do with me?”

She hesitated, then whispered, “I might.”

“Good. You can tell me when I see you later.”

“Frerin, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am positive.” Thorin came out of the store then and looked more than a little perturbed, which made him uneasy once more. “Okay, I’d better go. I’ll see you later?”

“Frerin, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m positive, baby. I’m fine. I’ll see you later and I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He smiled at the soft sincerity in her voice. “I love how that sounds when you say it, Syd.”

“Be careful.”

“Always.”

Thorin came up as he clicked off. “What’s going on, Frer? You know that girl?”

“The one at the counter? You could see her?”

“Yeah,” Thorin looked at him as if he’d lost his mind, “why wouldn’t I be able to?”

“You sure you want me to answer that?”

“Frerin.”

The look that accompanied his name reminded Frerin of their mother and his initial reaction was to apologize. “Sorry, T. It’s just… it’s crazy, is what it is.”

“Try me. You’ve already told me plenty of crazy this last week. What’s a little more?” Thorin gestured toward the sports bar one floor below them. “Come on. We’ll get a beer and you’ll spill.”

“Wait,” Thorin held up a hand, “are you serious?”

“I’m dead serious, T. It was her.”

“But, I thought she was—” Thorin hesitated, then with a slight wince, finished with, “dead?”

“You can say it, you know,” Frerin told him with no little annoyance. “I was dead. It’s not nearly as big a deal now as it was when I was actually dead. And saying it won’t make me dead again, you know. At least,” he hesitated, “I don’t think it will.”

“Yeah, but, it seems like you wouldn’t want to be reminded of it.”

Frerin traced his forefinger along the side of his half-full beer mug. “I’m not going to forget it, so it’s not like mentioning it will bring it all rushing back like an acid flashback.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He lifted the mug to his lips for a long swallow. The Yuengling chocolate porter was smooth and rich and hit the spot. One of the the things he’d missed most—aside from basic human contact and sex—was how a drink could hit the spot. One didn't get hungry or thirsty on that side, but one didn't forget the simple pleasure of eating something delicious or the feeling of a cold beer going on his throat on a hot summer day. 

Now, he savored every drop, the nuances of flavor in the porter itself, and as he lowered his glass, he said, “But what I don't get is how she’s here. The Big Guy was pissed.”

“Can you, for lack of a better word, escape?”

“I don't know. I just accepted that I was there until Tori told me I was being given that second chance.”

“Can you go back?”

“T, I don't want to go back. What if I have to stay?”

“Do you think you will?”

“I don't know.” Frerin glanced about the small sports bar, but thankfully saw no familiar faces. “And I wouldn’t even know how to go about trying to get back.”

“Well, why would she even be here?”

Frerin grinned. “You’ll think I’m an arrogant prick if I tell you, T.”

Thorin lifted his pint glass. “This ought to be good.”

“She wanted to keep me on the other side. For herself.”

Thorin rolled his eyes. “You son of a bitch. You’ve got them fighting over you on both sides?”

“I didn’t ask for this, you know. I just wanted to come back here and now I just want to stay here. With Syd.” He sat back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. “And now I’m worried Tori will go after her.”

“Did you tell her?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I told her when I called her. That’s why I called her.”

“And?”

“T, she’s used to stuff like this for the most part, but at the same time…”

“You’re worried.”

“Yeah, I’m worried. Tori has nothing to lose. She’s dead. But, Syd isn’t and that’s what has me worried.”

“Then you need to see how you reign in someone who’s dead.”

Frerin nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

“If I can help, let me know.”

“Trust me, T. You’ll be the first one I call.”

Something was wrong. 

Syd couldn't figure out what that something was, but it was definitely wrong. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Did you just seriously tell me Frerin Durin asked you to move in with him?”

“I told you that like ten minutes ago, Alex. You just processed it?”

“Well, yeah.” Alex shook her head. “A week ago, you weren’t even sure you should go out with him again and now you’re going to live with him?”

“Lex, you do remember everything that’s happened this week, don't you? You told me to go for it, I told you he had died and come back and you convinced me to believe it?”

“Well, yeah, I know, but…” Alex lifted her coffee cup from the Keurig’s tray and returned to her chair at the kitchen table. What sunlight there had been was gone now, obscured by the heavy, iron-gray clouds, and snow fell softly to dust the pine trees at the far edge of the Prescott property. “It’s just… well… I never thought you would be the first one of us to move out, is all.”

“I know, it’s weird to me, too,” Syd pulled her spoon through her coffee although the sugar had to have been dissolved by then, “but… I love him, Lex. And he wants to marry me.”

“What?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, looking up at Alex as she smiled. “And I believe him and I want to marry him as well. You and me and Thorin and Frerin should have a double wedding.”

Alex grinned. “We’d kill every single hopeful woman in Cranford Falls.”

Syd chuckled as she set the spoon on her napkin. It wasn’t quite noon yet, but Charlie was at the shop with Teddy and Gram was off shopping. “Lex, can I ask you something?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Did I tell you about Tori?”

“Tori?”

“The woman who Frerin thought was helping him out on the other side?”

Alex shook her head. “No. Helping him out?”

“Yeah, he thought she was there to make his adjustment easier. And when he came back, last week, he said she popped in on him a few times to check up on him.”

“Syd. That sounds an awful lot like she’s just my sister.”

“No, it wasn't like that. I swear it wasn’t. I was with him almost every moment he wasn't at work, remember?”

Alex’s forehead creased and she didn't look at all reassured. “Are you certain?”

“He isn’t a cheater, Lex. Trust me, okay?”

“Okay. Go on.”

“Anyway, it turns out Tori was not only not his guide, but he was hers. And not only that, but she was the reason I was at that warehouse and the reason why it caught fire. She tried to kill Frerin for good, to bring him back and keep him with her.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious, Lex. I saw her at the warehouse before Frerin lost consciousness. And now, she’s back.”

Alex’s green eyes practically bulged from their sockets. “What?”

“Frerin called me from the mall. He and Thorin are… Christmas shopping and he saw her. She saw him. And now, I wonder how I get someone who is dead to leave us alone?”

“You’d have to ask Gram. She would be the one to know.”

“And then she thinks I’m crazy.”

“I don't know about that,” Alex told her softly, her expression growing serious. “Gram will understand better than anyone. I mean, this is what we all deal in, right?”

“Do you think I should tell her I slept with him last summer first?”

“No.”

“What about my deciding I’m going to live with him?”

Alex grinned. “I think she’ll take that a lot harder than this dead woman stalking him.”

“She’s going to notice eventually.”

“You think?”

“Lex.”

“Seriously, Syd, talk to her. She will know what to do.”

“And the living with Frerin?”

“Just wait until she notices you haven’t been around for weeks. She will freak over that.”

“Even if I tell her I’ll probably marry him?”

“Tell after you marry him.” Alex smiled. “I can’t believe you tamed the untamable Frerin Durin. And before you yell at me, I think it’s awesome. I always thought that when he fell, it’d be hard.”

Syd sat back in her chair, tracing her finger along the table’s surface. “Really?”

“Yeah. He’s a Durin and Durin men are an interesting lot, Syd. They fall hard, and when they do, they don’t look back. Trust me on that.”

She smiled as she stood. “I have to go and start packing a few things. He’ll be here soon.”

“And you’ll talk to Gram about this Tori?”

Syd nodded. “I will. I have to know how I keep him safe from her. I’ve almost lost him once, I am not going to do it again.”

“And you know, we’ll do whatever we have to, to help you.”

“I know. I can alway count on you guys.”

Alex sighed softly. “Yeah. It’s nice to know that won’t change.” She glanced down at her watch. “I should go. Charlie and Teddy expect me at noon. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Lex.” 

They parted way then, with Alex going out through the kitchen door, while Syd made her way upstairs. As she stood on the threshold of her bedroom, her mind, went back to Saturday morning in the ER, when Frerin lifted her up and whispered, “Will you marry me?” as he did. She had no doubt that proposal was genuine, and she had no doubt that moving in with him was right as well. He was not the same Frerin Durin who’d disappeared on her last summer. He’d said it himself, that man was dead and the one who’d emerged from his ashes was the man she knew she was meant to be with and the one she knew she could trust. 

[palbabor-writes]

Unknown.

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x puppy!girl OC

For: @kazooli​ 

Warnings: sex pollen, tw.dubcon, tw.unbalanced relationship, tw.blood/gore, unrequited feelings, puppy!reader, established OC, NSFW/18+only

Word Count: 3681

Notes: the is part of the Evil Exchange! i had a lot of fun with this concept & am so glad i got to take part! this fic does have an established OC & while she is not named, she does have physical descriptions that are not neutral.  

[ 2:15 am, Monday morning ]

He shouldn’t have taken you along. You don’t belong here. 

Your quirk isn’t equipped to deal with something like this [ or is it perfect? since all of your senses are acutely attuned to him, your lips open, tongue heavy between your teeth, drool pooling under your jaw and down your neck, your eyes gleaming with an unnatural sheen as you try to hump against his leg like a bitch in heat ] and you have little in the way of melee attacks, or a true defense. No, all you have is your pretty blonde hair, floppy ears that prick each time you hear him, and that incessantly wagging tail that sticks out from your pert little ass, like a goddamn antenna. You’re absolutely too pure for this, too fucking saccharine, and too damn nice to be here.

Fuck. This was a mistake.

[ 72 hours before the mission ]

“It’s in that old warehouse, the one by the docks.”

“Which one? The images that we have show multiple buildings.”

“The fuck do I know? You only wanted me to ask around about the place. If you wanted me to do the damn job for you, you should have said.”

Shigaraki narrows his eyes at Dabi’s hunched back, doing his best to remind himself that they’re already low on funds, on members, and they can’t afford to lose anything else. Not now, when they’re literally scraping along the bottom of the barrel, yanking out whatever dregs they can find and trying desperately to make them stick.

“Did they give you a time?”

“For the exchange? Yeah, said they’re gonna be down there around 1am.”

“And the date?”

“Date?” Dabi questions, whipping his dark head back to Shigaraki’s impassive face, arching one dark brow. 

“Yeah,” Shigaraki intones, a half concealed snarl lifting his cracked lips. “The date for when this is all going to take place. We can’t send someone down there every night, hoping it’s the correct time. They’ll be noticed.”

“Said they wanted it to be this Monday, something about shelf life. Apparently this shit is better when it’s fresh. Sells quicker, is more effective.”

“How much did they agree to hand over?”

“Fucking–look man, I didn’t grab a cup of coffee with them, or ask if they wanted to go get some lunch. I told them our terms, they agreed and gave me the location, ‘date’ and time. What did you want me to do? Paint their nails? Suck em’ off? If you’re wanting to get into the drug trade, maybe ask a few more questions yourself. Not leave them to middlemen. You act like you wanna be a leader, so fucking act like–”  

A quiet knocking breaks Dabi’s tirade and both men turn toward the closed door.

“What?” Shigaraki snaps, raising a hand to his neck, scritching his long nails against the scars that he finds. It’s a shitty habit, and he knows it gives his agitation away, but he doesn’t care. The sooner Dabi loses his temper and fucks back off to the streets, the better.

The door creaks open and your golden head pops around the corner, hair falling into the empty air as your dog like ears waggle, listening, testing the safety of the room. Your eyes shift from Dabi’s bristled form to Shigaraki and the moment they alight on his stony expression, you smile. 

“M-mister Tomura, um, the others… well, we were talking and heard Dabi shouting… uh, they… I mean… I was wondering if you’ve assigned anyone to the new mission? The one you mentioned the other day?” 

Dabi snorts and you toss his lanky frame a glare, ears flattening along the side of your head. “Yeah, I bet you wanna know who’s going with Mister Tomura. Got news for you girly, it’s prolly not gonna be you.”

Your quivering pink lips are about to form a retort when Shigaraki’s voice croaks out. “Enough. Tell the others we’ll discuss this later. Dabi, don’t you have some recruits that you’re supposed to show me?”

The flame user waves a lackadaisical hand and stands, inky head cocked toward your pouting face, letting his sharp gaze linger against your angry expression. “Soon boss. Told you already, quality takes time. Not that you know that, since all you seem to attract is freaks, like this one.”

[ 21 hours before the mission ] 

 “You’re really taking her?” Toga asks, twirling a small knife between her splayed fingers. “I mean, isn’t she kinda lacking in… experience?”

“She’s the only one who can smell out any fakes. I don’t trust these guys. They might try to offload a lower grade product to us.” Shigaraki explains, tucking the battered case of quirk destroying bullets back into his jacket pocket. In the last 24 hours things have gone from bad to worse, what with the news that Twice couldn’t replicate the serum, and the potential, permanent loss of Kurogiri. He’s not about to add double crossed by some two bit drug dealers to that list.

“You want me to give her some weapons? A knife or something? I’ve got plenty of extra. Can’t ever have too many and besides, I like her. And I know she’ll bring them back, safe and sound. She’s such an obedient girl.”

Obedient. 

That’s an apt word for you. Maybe it’s an after effect of your quirk, or the puppy-like way you act around him [ with that permanently blissed out smile and thumping tail of yours ] but your swift, unquestioning compliance always makes him think of an over eager pet. 

“She’s malleable, and that’s what I need on this mission.”

“Ah! You saying I wouldn’t be?”

“Tch. You wouldn’t even try.”

[ 7 hours before the mission ]

He’s taking you. 

It hadn’t been some kind of dream, he’d really shown up in your doorway, with his red eyes glowing in the low light, his sharp jaw tensed, and told you that you’d be accompanying him. Just you and him, together, alone, on a mission where he’d need to rely on you. Could trust you, would talk with you.  

As soon as he left, you’d flopped back against the ratty mattress that sat in the middle of your room, trembling fingers already shoving the elastic lining of your shorts down, letting you thumb a quick circle over your throbbing, distended clit. In seconds you’re leaking all over your hand, mind whirring, picturing how he’ll look as he walks beside you, listening for the bite of his voice, imagining him telling you what a good girl you are. He’ll be so pleased, so happy with you. Oh, the things he’ll say to you. 

Look at you, you did so well. 

Thank you. Thank you for coming on this with me. 

I can’t wait to take you [ bend you over and ] with me again. 

I can’t wait to [ fuck your little pussy until you’re screaming for me ] get you home safely.

You did such a good job.

I wouldn’t have [ until you’re cumming all over my cock ] been able to do it without you.

You’d make the perfect apprentice, you know?

You really [ such a greedy little bitch ] would.

You’re perfect [ look at how you’re taking me. i’m gonna fuck you stupid, you dirty slut ] and I’m happy that you’re here with me.

That I found you.

Your release builds swiftly. Making your feathery tail ripple over the tattered sheets and your ears tremble in the chilly air. You feel you’re catching alight. It’s too much, and you hate that you’re not taking your time, but you can’t hear his voice as well now. 

The memory of it is fading as Mister Tomura pads away from you, down the long hallway that leads to his room. 

You remind yourself to listen more, as your fingers pinch and twist at your shuddering clit, to memorize every detail of him. You want to see him every time you close your eyelids and be able to picture him again each morning. To wash yourself in that hazy vermillion of his eyes and the timbre of his voice. 

It’s too soon, but your toes are already curling, your back is arching, welcoming the rush of wetness that slips between your shaking thighs. You feel lightheaded, but your dulled senses does nothing to mask the giddiness that keeps bubbling its way out of your chest. 

Tomorrow. Mister Tomura is taking you with him tomorrow.

 [ Mission begins: 1 am, Monday morning ]

 “Um, Mister Tomura… do you want me to go in first? That way you can–”

“No, they know I’m coming.”

“Oooh! So there’s no need for surprise!”

“Correct.”

The dark buildings along the wharf are slowly peeking into view and Shigaraki peers over at your grinning face, his red eyes watchful under the dark hood of his jacket. You look happy, a little too happy. You’re the best choice for this mission, but he can’t shake that uneasy feeling that keeps nagging at the back of his mind. 

Eager is one thing, but you’re practically vibrating with excitement. That tail of yours won’t stop lashing back and forth and each time he sees your ears twitch and your head snap up to his, he’s reminded that you’ll need to be looked after on this. Unlike the others, you don’t have an affinity for combat or a quirk that gives you any kind of advantage in a fight. Nevertheless, you’re a member of the league and that connection affords you certain privileges. 

Unless he has no other option, he won’t abandon you.

As the two of you step toward the fifth warehouse, you lean closer to him, your shoulder brushing against his obsidian jacket, a quiet huff of air falling from your parted lips. “This is it,” you tell him, mismatched eyes blinking up at his impassive expression. 

When he says good, you almost snatch at his arm, and you try to hold back your panting breaths, to not let them slip out, but you know he can see, he can tell. He always can. You feel his sharp gaze passing over you, and sense his blistering annoyance when you subconsciously lean into him a little harder, rubbing your clothed shoulder against his.

“You ready Mister Tomura?” The question leaves you on a whisper and you bite your lower lip into your mouth, wanting him to say yes, wanting him to tell you what a good job you’ve done, finding the location like this. That he’s ready for anything as long as you’re by his side.

“Step back,” he murmurs, lifting three fingers to the door as he shoves it open, the metal wheels screeching into the static quiet of the night.

[ 1:45 am, Monday morning ]

“What’s wrong with her?” Shigaraki demands, releasing the throat of the leader of this de facto gang, sending him crashing across the grimy floor of the warehouse.

“I– koff, koff, I d-don’t… fucking know! She just… shit… sniffed the stuff and started shaking.”

“What’s in it? I’ll give you five seconds.” There’s no time for this and if you’re having some kind of reaction to the drugs, he’s honestly not sure what he’s going to do with you. A villain hospital is out of the question and sensei’s doctor can’t be located. Shit.

“It’s… it’s got some kinda quirk enhancing property… I don’t think that–”

“Five,” Shigaraki begins, stepping over the gristled remains of the others, his red shoes bright against the pools of darkening blood.

“What!? You can’t be serious! Look, man, I’m not the one who manufactured them! I–”

“Four.”

“Oh my God, oh m-my…. look, he said something about increasing the instincts. Making the user less–”

“Three.”

“Libido! It increases libido! I think… no! No! Please! Don’t you–Keep the fuck away from me, you freak! Don’t–I’m trying to tell you! Come on! Please! I don’t–”

Shigaraki lets the man struggle, watching his fruitless scramble across the floor; hands flapping against the gritty concrete with loud smacks, and feet slipping. He looks like a fish on a line. 

“None of those things let me know what’s in the drug,” he informs his prey, blood slicked shoes stepping down, trapping the man under his heel, halting his frantic motions.

“That’s not… not… Y-you said you’d give me until five?”

“Did I?” Shigaraki asks, a wide grin cracking over his face, one hand lowering, fingers splayed, reaching. “Looks like I lied.”

The man’s shrieks quickly turn into deep throated garbles as the decay of Shigaraki’s quirk races up his body, reducing him to a mass of shattered bones, hollowed teeth and gushing ichor. Pity, Shigaraki thinks, wiping his bloodied hand against his dark pants and twisting back to your trembling form. 

You’re whimpering, your voice catching as you try to gulp down a few breaths and your tail is flat, its usual golden hanging lusterless in the darkness. When he steps closer, your head lifts and he can see the hopeful prick of your floppy ears. Your cheeks and the line of your neck are flushed, creating a burst of dusty pink that blends perfectly with your flaxen hair. You look like a doll, tiny and shivering in the cold, your puppy-like features wilted under the weight of the drug that’s coursing through your bloodstream.

“M-Mister T-T-T-omura,” you whine, one hand lifting, straining for him. “I-I feel… I feel… hot. It… it’s too warm. I think I’m… I don’t know if… if I–”

“Can you walk?” He cuts right to the chase, not liking that shimmering line of desperation that’s laced within your words. You look like you’re about to fall to pieces, but he needs more information. He can’t help you, he reasons, pushing down that inner voice that’s screaming for him to step away from your curled body, if he doesn’t know what’s wrong. 

“D-dunno…” you stammer, licking your pastel tongue across your lips, making them slick, pouting them forward. “I don’t… I don’t feel so good.”

“I know,” he reminds you, kneeling in front of you, placing himself within your reach.

In hindsight, it was a stupid move. He knows better. It could have been avoided. He should have paid more attention, not underestimated your tenacity, your want.

Your fingers are under his shirt before he can blink, and before he can breathe, you’re coiling your way into his lap, forcing him to fall to the ground, pressing against him until he’s sure there’s nothing else of you he can hold. “M-Mister… please… p-please! Mister Tomura! Make it go away!”

He tries to shove you off, carefully lifting fingers away, pushing at you with eight digits, hoping you’ll stop squirming. But it doesn’t work and the wet lap of your tongue catches him utterly by surprise. He stiffens under you, his arms falling to his sides, neck rigid, vermillion eyes wide, but you don’t care. 

Mister Tomura smells so nice this close. 

It’s a musty scent, sticky and clammy, but oh, there’s something else under there. Something that makes you think of slickening skin, the rub of your fingers, and the tacky drip that sometimes falls from between your legs. It’s too much; it’s making you feel woozy and your hands shake as they reach for his face, but you want more. You need more.

“Is this ok? I-Is this alright Mister Tomura? Can I pet you? Please?”

There’s no reply. So you continue, lacing your hands into his pearlescent hair and lowering his lips to yours. He feels rough against your soft lips, so you dip your tongue out to loosen him up, poking until he gives you a halfhearted press, the hot exhale of his nose passing over your pink tinted cheek. “That’s right Mister,” you repeat, encouraging him to let you taste more, rutting your hips against the stiffened plane of his upper thigh. “Let me take care of you, Mister Tomura. Can I be your good girl? Hmm?”

When your fingers pad over his crotch, he groans and his back arches. You pull away, awed by his reaction, hoping he’ll be looking at you, imagining how pretty his eyes will look when they’re lit up with the want of you. But his head is turned and his jaw is set in a foreboding clench. “Mist–Mister Tomura?” you blurt out, hands grabbing at the sides of his face, forcing him back to you.

The dark look he fixes you with makes your heart pound and you can tell your tail is wagging furiously behind you. You like it when he looks at you like that. He likely thinks it’s cold, uncaring, but you know. You know the truth, that he wants you. 

Everything inside of you is clattering, rattling at you, screaming out that he wants this. 

“I see,” you begin, your hips picking up their pace, hoping he’ll let you slip your rapidly dampening pants off. “You want me too, right? You want me to help you with that.” Here you pause, lowering one hand to trace up the curve of his clothed cock, cupping at it until he’s gritting his teeth, showing you a bright line of white. “I can do that, Mister. I’ll do anything for you, anything. Just let me be your good girl, ‘kay?”

[ 2:24 am, Monday morning ]

He’s pushed you back, but not too far. Not far enough that your delicate toes can’t reach him. 

It hadn’t taken much to work his black jeans open, just a quick flick of your wrist and a sharp tug and then there he was, his tip red, beads of pre-cum frothing against his slit, weeping downward. Delicious, is all that you could think, and your lips were around him before he could stutter forward. He makes the cutest sounds when he’s shoving past the ring of your mouth, but it’s gotta hurt his hands when he’s clawing them along the ground like that. 

He should relax.

Once you’d worked him over, hungrily slathering over his dripping cock head, and greedily felt him pulse against the flat of your tongue, you’d shifted off of him. He gasped when you let go, and you thoroughly enjoyed the pop that all that wetness made in the still air. 

When you slid your pants over the curve of your hips he’d stood, but maybe this drug had given you some kinda super strength besides that fire that was thrumming in your veins, because after you’d trapped him between your spread knees, he hadn’t struggled since. 

Maybe he’ll like this? Or this?

It’s really just a guessing game now, and even though Mister Tomura isn’t the most enthusiastic player, he is a reactive one.

The mess of your saliva quickly lubricated the arch of your foot and his copious pre-cum and you run it up and down his straining length, pressing the other forward when you hear him grunting, his hips bucking upwards, helping you. 

“You like this Mister Tomura?”

You’re still waiting on your good girl and you hope you’ll do something that ekes it from his clamped lips. But you can wait, after all Mister Tomura likes when you work hard, when you do your best for him. 

He lets out a yelp when you speed up and you laugh, so happy that he’s happy.

[ 2:56 am, Monday morning ]

“Mister! Mister Tomura, please! It… ah… it hurts again. C-can you p-put it… mmm… in… inside me?”

It’s the third time you’ve asked him that question, but he’s not listening to you anymore. Instead, he’s shoving you down, lifting the round globes of your red smacked ass and tracing the heavy tip of his cock over your leaking slit. He presses forward and back, slicking himself with your milky release, tacking your arousal all over him. At some point, something broke within him and you’re still exalting in the heady feel of him over you. 

“M-Mister Tomu–”

“Shut up. If you call me that one more time, I’ll stop right now. Just leave you here, naked, all alone and unprotected,” Shigaraki threatens, reaching around for your swollen clit and giving it a sharp pinch. You quake under his hands and he watches as your puppy ears fall and your tail brushes against his sweat slicked chest. “Imagine what would happen if someone came along and saw you like this? Saw you panting and humping the floor. You look like a fucking dog. Like some loose bitch who can’t think of anything other than the feel of someone’s dick. You want this? Huh?”

He grabs at your golden hair and pulls you upwards, forcing your spine into a u shape, watching as your tongue flops out of your mouth, as your drool falls down your chest. The tiny buds of your breasts do little to catch the saliva, so most fall on your trembling hands and you let out a piteous whine, hoping he’ll show you some mercy. Hoping he’ll fuck you until you can’t think. 

“Answer me.” His voice is iron and you shudder, ass wiggling as you gasp out his name and a chorus of yeses. When his tip aligns with your entrance, it sends a jolt of electricity across your heated skin. 

“Want me to call you a good girl?” he asks, pushing until his bulbous head is just tucked inside that first ring of pink muscle, grunting as you try to take him deeper, your cunt ravenously clamping around him.

“Y-yes! C-C-Call m-me that! T-Tell meee!”

“Then promise me you’ll never touch me again. Promise me you’ll never come near me. Tell me I’ll never have to look at that simpering face of yours and I’ll tell you what you want to hear.”

“B-But Mister… I mean… but… T-Tomu-Tomura. I-I can’t do that. I l-love you!”

“That’s too bad,” Shigaraki hums, jerking his hips forward, feeding you another tantalizing inch of his cock, watching as your viscid arousal gushes outward, coating the flesh of your inner thighs and staining his curled thatch of pubic hair. 

“Because I don’t love you.”

[karajaynetoday]

i'll be honest, it's better off this way | luke hemmings

image credit 

hello pals! long time no writing! i know it seems a bit weird to post a luke break up fic just after he got engaged but to be fair, I already had this in the works before the news broke yesterday, so soz not soz. It is kind of a happy break up story though... kind of? this one features lyrics from our song by niall and anne marie that are in italics throughout the piece (you know i love a song lyric incorporation lol) and i’m a bit rusty, so any feedback is welcome! a big shoutout to my dearest @notinthesameguey​ for beta-reading this one for me, you’re a gem blanca! enjoy xo

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings:  mentions of a break up and a car accident/hospitalisation (minor/non-graphic)

(This is a fem reader insert)

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

I'll be honest, I'm alright with me

Sunday mornings, in my own bedsheets

The break up with Luke had been easier than you’d first thought. It’d been months of growing apart, feeling like a stranger in your own home, before you finally worked up the nerve to utter those four words: We need to talk. He’d been spending most days and some nights in the studio, and you’d been working overtime at your job too; you were ships in the night who barely had time to say hello and goodbye, let alone have any sort of proper conversation. You’d spent an entire evening rehearsing a script in your head, and as soon as Luke walked through the door and greeted Petunia, you mustered the courage to stand up and speak your truth. 

It turned out that you weren’t alone in feeling stagnant in your relationship, and although you could feel your heart breaking as you said the words, Luke’s hand on your knee was all the gentle reassurance you needed. Just like always, even when your relationship was falling apart, Luke was there for you. And that’s what he promised, that night in the living room. It didn’t make sense for you two to become strangers overnight after 3 years together, but you also both knew that you needed space to grow and heal, and that space needed to happen sooner rather than later. 

You could tell that part of Luke wanted to fight it, wanted to raise his voice, wanted to convince you to stay. But part of Luke also knew that it was time to walk away, no matter how much his heart was feeling like it was being ripped out of his chest, because he did truly love you, and if he loved you, he’d let you go. 

Even though Luke insisted you could stay in the spare room for as long as you liked, it only took a week or so to find a new place. An apartment in KayKay’s building opened up for rent, and thanks to her help, you secured the lease and started moving in as soon as you could. Ashton accompanied you to Ikea and then helped with assembling a new bed and dining table for you, while KayKay helped unpack some of your boxes. You could tell that they were trying to be sensitive, but at the same time were desperate to know what went down in the break up, and after a few slices of pizza and half a bottle of wine, you felt the emotions rushing to the surface.

“It feels dumb to get upset, after all, I was the one who suggested we should break up.” You sniffled, smiling sadly as Ashton handed you a tissue.

“Just because it was something that needed to happen, doesn’t mean you can’t be sad about it. You two shared a lot in the time you were together, it’s only natural that it’s going to take you a while to untangle yourselves from one another and to get your head and heart back on the path that’s right for you.” KayKay spoke softly, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

You knew she was right, and the healing would come; it was all part of the rollercoaster of walking away from someone you thought was the love of your life, but had turned out not to be. Time to adjust and find some independence, and re-shape the life you found yourself in until it was the life you wanted. 

But every time I think that I can get you out my head, you never, ever let me forget

Once you’d completely moved out Luke’s house, your reasons to contact him became few and far between. A few occasional texts to advise that he’d let his family know about your split, and a link to a new cafe nearby that he thought was your kind of vibe (and it absolutely was). Everyone in your friendship group was trying their best to help you both cope, but it was hard to avoid the awkwardness that came with a break up of close friends.  

You felt like you were walking on eggshells for a while, so you started to say no to invitations out. You threw yourself into a new work project, and barely replied to any group chats. Whenever your friends called, you had the perfect script rehearsed, about how you were going to be up for promotion, and after the next month or so, you’d have plenty more time for catching up with everyone. You were fairly certain that no-one believed your story, but you were sticking to it nonetheless. You’d seen photos online of Luke out and about with various beautiful women amongst the partying crew, and even though you knew better than to torture yourself with doom-scrolling through the internet, you couldn’t help yourself. You had to keep reminding yourself that it was YOU that wanted the breakup, and that it was for the best. Or something like that.

It was coming to the end of your big project, and the entire office decided to head out for celebratory drinks. You only stayed for a couple, because after a month of overtime you were ready for bed. Your boss took you aside to assure you that the promotion was yours and the new contract would be on your desk on Monday, and as you reassured him you were excited to take on the role, a song playing over the bar’s speakers made you stop in your tracks. You’d spent many a Sunday morning dancing around the kitchen making pancakes with Luke and singing these words; something you’d completely forgotten until this moment. As you stepped outside to await your Uber, the first person you wanted to call with the news was Luke. Your fingers hovered over his name for a good few minutes before your Uber driver honked and broke you out of her trance, and you settled for texting the group chat instead to share your exciting update. Lots of confetti and heart eyes emojis started popping up alongside congratulatory messages, and you let out a giggle when you saw that Luke had sent a photo of Petunia with “congrats!” scrawled across it in purple font. It was the last thing you remembered, before the squealing of tyres and your vision going black. 

Just when I think you're gone, Hear our song on the radio

Just like that, takes me back, To the places we used to go

The rhythmic beeping of the hospital monitors was the first thing you noticed as you stirred awake. The second was a dull pain across your skull, and the third was that your arm was in a sling. Fourth was the large, warm hand that was holding your own and gently squeezing; without opening your eyes, you knew it was Luke’s. You felt too weak to say any words, so instead you tried your best to squeeze back as you slowly opened your eyes. You heard a sharp intake of breath, before Luke’s smiling face came into view.

“Hey there, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” Luke asked, reaching up to gently brush some hair out of your eyes.

“Like I was in a car accident.” You managed to croak out, shooting him a wry smile and earning a laugh in return.

“You are correct, you can pass go, and collect $200. A pretty gnarly accident, the car’s a write-off, but thankfully everyone’s injuries are relatively minor. Some dickhead ran a red light.” You could tell Luke was trying to remain calm, but under the surface he was pissed.

“Not ideal, but at least I get a few days off work.” You joked, grimacing as you tried to sit up. Luke stood and gently maneuvered your pillows to support your back and shoulders better, and you felt a zap of electricity as his hands brushed your arms in passing.

As Luke sat back in the chair next to the bed, you suddenly realised that it was just the two of you in the hospital room. 

“No offence, Hemmo, but what are you doing here? Considering we’re no longer significant others, and all…” You said awkwardly, looking down at your arm sling with sudden great interest.

“Very observant, dear. Glad to see the concussion hasn’t affected your short term memory, I was worried you’d forget me entirely. You did, however, forget to update your emergency contact details, so I guess I was first on the list for the hospital to call. Ash, KayKay and I have been taking shifts but they’re out getting food right now - “ The rest of Luke’s explanation was cut off by a gasp and a cheer at the door, signalling Ashton and KayKay’s return and subsequent delight at you being awake.

The days that followed were uncomfortable physically, but kind of heartwarming emotionally. You got home to your apartment thanks to KayKay’s assistance, and found that your friends had stocked your fridge and freezer full of ready-made meals and your favourite snacks. They’d also made a roster so not a day went by without someone popping in to check on you, although you noticed that Luke never came by. 

Your recovery was slow but steady, and soon enough the doctors gave you the all clear. At this point, it was nearly 6 months since you’d broken up with Luke, and you could feel your mindset shifting. He was no longer the first person you wanted to call with good or bad news, or the first memories that popped into your head when you needed cheering up. It almost felt like… relief? Because for the longest time, even though you knew the break up was for the best, detaching yourself from one another seemed almost in possible after so many years of so many memories. 

I've been waking up alone, I haven't thought of him for days

I'll be honest, It's better off this way

The tipping point came at Calum’s birthday party, a month or so later. Ashton had invited you out for coffee and nonchalantly mentioned that maybe, possibly, well actually extremely likely almost definitely Luke was bringing a date to the gathering at Cal’s house; a girl he’d been seeing for a month or so. Everyone wanted you to be comfortable, and everyone, Cal especially, wanted you to be there, but they also understood if you wanted to avoid any potential awkward encounters with Luke and his new love interest. You assured Ashton that it would be fine, that you honestly weren’t bothered, and laughed off his suggestion of setting you up with a super hot blind date to help level the playing field.

The night came along, and you found yourself stumbling along Calum’s front path in the dark as you tried not to drop the gift you’d bought for him (a new cookbook and a collection of various hot sauces).  “Bloody 5sos and the “no good party starts until 11pm rule”, you muttered to yourself as you almost tripped over again, and you heard an indignant shout that sounded very Ashton-like behind you.

“Oi! Don’t be mad at us, you know that rule has never let us down!” Ashton bellowed, as he came forward with his phone flashlight switched on, KayKay not too far behind him.

“Damn girl, you like fiiiiiine!” KayKay said, letting out a low whistle. You rolled your eyes, knowing she was exaggerating. Your outfit was essentially a denim skirt and a t-shirt - maybe you’d sexed it up a little bit with some thigh high boots, tousled hair and a red lip, but all’s fair in love and war, right?

The three of you made it inside, and a very tipsy Calum greeted you with open arms and a lot of excitement at your gift of hot sauce. It felt so nice to be back with all your friends at a house party, like the old days, and you found yourself stepping out onto the back patio for a moment of quiet reflection and to share some pats with Duke.

You’d exchanged a wave with Luke when you’d entered the house, but hadn’t quite worked up the confidence to go up and speak to him, especially when he had his new girl in close proximity. She looked really friendly, though, and you could tell from the spark in both of their eyes that their relationship was blossoming in the best possible way. Part of you thought you’d be upset about it, but all you truly felt was content. Content in your life as it was, surrounded by friends that loved you just as much as you loved them, and actually quite proud of how far you’d come over the past year. You’d learned to stand on your own two feet, and you’d grown into a much more settled, independent human as a result. 

You were lost in your train of thought when you heard the song change on the speakers inside. Duke’s ears perked up and he licked your hand attentively when you stopped patting him as the song registered - it was your song. Or at least, it used to be. You felt a smile creep onto your face when you remembered the Sunday mornings of pancakes and singalongs, and the smile grew wider when you saw Luke’s girlfriend dragging him onto the dancefloor, much to his (fake) protests. You made eye contact with your kind-hearted, softly-smiling, gentle-eyed ex-boyfriend, and for a split second you saw a flash of concern cross his face. In response, you raised your glass in a cheers and shot him a wink, which earned a smile and a small laugh from Luke before he turned his attention back to the beautiful girl in his arms. You took a sip, and smiled to yourself. It truly was better off this way. 

When I hear it, I just can't stop smiling, I remember you're gone

Baby, it's just a song on the radio, That we used to know

Taglist: If there’s a line through your name, I couldn’t tag you, so please message me to let me know your new URL or what the go is!   @suchalonelysunflower @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @loveroflrh @spicycal @notinthesameguey @metalandboybands @cheekysos @ashton-trash  @another-lonely-heart @queenalienscherrypie  @becihadshawn  @allthestarsandthemoon  @oyesmendes​ @andrianawinchester @333-xx  @findingliam-o @hoodhoran @rbforsmileycal @myloverboyash @myhappylittleyoutubee @saywhatnow07 @secretsicanthideanymore @ar1analara  @killmywildflower​

[pitviperofdoom]

"Vet AU" as in veterinarian? Definitely curious about that, vets don't get nearly enough love in fiction :) I had never considered that as an AU, but now I'm immediately picturing how it would go!

The Vet AU! Yes, Vet as in Veterinarian.

This one’s a bit scattered, so I’ll just post what I have written and let it speak for itself:

---

Martin was in the middle of doing payroll when Sasha poked her head into the office with a polite knock on the doorframe. “Hey Martin, Room 2 is ready for you.”

“Oh! Thanks.” Quickly, Martin finished filling in the last number, then saved the spreadsheet and got up from his chair. At the sight of her, he bit back a chuckle—she had one of the new puppies settled against her shoulder, wiggling and poking around like a furry little worm. “Tim leave you on babysitting duty?”

“Not his fault,” Sasha said with a grin. “He’s dealing with the rottweiler situation in 5. You good?”

“Yeah, fine—remind me who’s waiting for me in 2 again?”

“According to the appointment schedule, you’ll be handling a general check-up for ‘Sticks’,” Sasha replied. “New patient, new owner.”

“Right, right, yeah.”

They usually stuck him with the first-time patients. Not that Tim and Sasha weren’t perfectly friendly and welcoming, but Martin—at least according to them—had very calming manners. He had the appearance of someone pleasant, patient, and according to Sasha, far less likely to go off on people who came in asking to declaw their cats.

“I have gone off on people for asking to declaw their cats,” Martin had said when she told him this.

“Oh, obviously. You just look like someone who wouldn’t, that’s all.”

That was what he got for being the only one with years of retail experience.

As he approached the door to the examination room, he took a few settling breaths. First-time appointments weren’t always a big deal. A majority of the time, they went smoothly; the animals weren’t familiar enough with what went on in a vet office to be nervous about it, and their owners were just as eager to be polite and pleasant as he was. But once in a while…

Well, once in a while you got someone like Peter fucking Lukas—

He shook his head. No, don’t think about Peter Lukas. Peter Lukas wasn’t worth wasting the space in his brain.

Martin settled his face into a resting pleasant expression, and opened the door.

It didn’t take a great deal of self-control not to stop in his tracks, but it did take a little. More than none. It wasn’t anything bad! Nothing against this new pet owner.

Less than nothing, if Martin were privately, sheepishly honest with himself.

The person was standing by the examination table, with a cat-sized pet carrier beside them. They were tall enough for Martin to look them in the eye without tipping his chin down, which put them a cut above most. Their hair was shoulder-length, mostly black with a bit of dark blond creeping in at the roots, framing a jawline and cheekbones so sharply defined that there had to be at least a bit of makeup involved. The snakebite piercing and the bar through the eyebrow really rounded out the whole look, especially with the long black coat, and the tattoos on the hand that rested on top of the box.

Very nice hands, Martin noted, then shrugged off the observation and funneled all his nervous energy into the safety of politeness.

“Good morning,” he said. “I’m Dr. Blackwood.”

They shook the hand he offered. “Gerry. Ke—Delano. Thanks for seeing me.”

“No trouble at all,” Martin replied, nodding toward the pet carrier. “I assume that’s my patient in there?”

“Oh, right, yeah—gimme a second.” Gerry Delano unlocked the carrier, then carefully reached in and lifted its occupant out onto onto the table.

“Oh, aren’t you lovely,” Martin murmured. “This is Sticks?”

“That’s him,” Gerry replied, as the small, fluffy, and perfectly black rabbit stretched forward to give a spot on the table a sniff, then retreated back into a loaf shape. Gerry stroked him gently. “Least I think it’s a him.”

“Well, let’s see, then.” Martin reached out, careful not to spook his new patient, and started examining her. He—yes, he—handled it all about as calmly as a nervous rabbit could. Martin didn’t have to grab a towel, at least, nor did he have a repeat of the time a nervous lop tried to jump off the examination table entirely. Sticks tolerated all the poking, prodding, and manhandling, and only got wriggly once before a quick pause and readjustment calmed him back down.

“So how long have you had him?” Martin asked, once he was done. Sticks immediately fled to the nearest safe haven, which turned out to be his owner’s armpit.

“Less than a week, since Monday,” Gerry replied, petting him as he attempted to burrow deeper into his jacket.

“Well, he’s a touch underweight,” Martin told him. “There’s some information I can give you on rabbit care, if this is your first time owning one. He’s not neutered, is he?”

“Probably not,” Gerry replied, grimacing. “I don’t know much about his history. I took him off an acquaintance who got him as a present and wasn’t doing a very good job of things.”

Martin pulled a face. “Pets make poor presents, yeah. Well, he’s old enough to be fixed, and with history like that he probably hasn’t gotten the shots he needs. After we’re done here, you can talk to Rosie out front, schedule another appointment to get those done. What do you feed him?”

Gerry, as Martin discovered, was an absolutely model rabbit owner. He’d done his homework, read up on how to keep a rabbit happy and healthy, and hadn’t scrimped on expenses. It was no wonder Sticks was happy to hide under his arm for the remainder of the appointment; he had a good home with good food and toys and what sounded like a nice setup, habitat-wise.

“What sort of vegetables are good for him?” they asked at one point. “I’m thinking of growing some. I’ve got the space, but I’ve heard too much causes problems?”

They want to grow vegetables for their pet rabbit, Martin thought, a little dreamily. “Leafy greens are a safe bet,” he replied out loud. “Romaine, parsley, cilantro, kale, that sort of thing. Work them in slowly if he’s not used to them, and he’ll be fine. I can give you a list, if you’d like?”

When the appointment was done, a future one scheduled, and the patient safely back in his carrier, Martin finally let himself ask the question that had been on his mind.

“So, is there a special meaning to ‘Sticks’?” he asked. “Is it short for something, or does he like to play with them, or…?”

“What?” Gerry looked confused for a moment, before the question seemed to click. “Oh, no, not Sticks like—he’s Styx as in the river.”

“Oh! Styx, of course. Sorry, I just—I heard it, but I didn’t see it written down—”

Gerry’s grin was crooked, like they were trying to hold it back but only partially succeeding. “It’s fine. And thanks for everything.”

“Oh, no problem, you’re doing great,” Martin assured him, smiling back. “He’s lucky to have you.”

He was pleasantly baffled when a bit of color crept into Gerry’s face. “Right, well, who can resist a bunny.”

“You’d be surprised,” Martin said as he showed him out of the room. “If I get one more new rabbit owner telling me about their lovely outdoor hutch—”

Gerry looked scandalized at the thought as he left, which was another point in his favor.

“What’s that look for?” Tim asked as Martin passed him on the way back to the office. “Oh dear. Don’t tell me Jon has competition again?”

“Oh my God, Tim, give that a rest. There was never any competition!”

“Yeah, Tim, keep it straight, will you?” Sasha called out from the temporary puppy pen. “Oliver wasn’t competition. Martin was jealous of him, remember?”

“Nothing straight about it,” Tim shot back.

“I have payroll to do,” Martin reminded them primly. “You trust me with our finances and then you treat me like this. How dare you. I’m defrauding both of you, see if I don’t.”

***

It wasn’t that Martin fell in love easily, per se. It was just that he had a very specific set of standards when it came to who he found attractive, and in his line of work he always ran into people who either met every single one of them, or disappointed him in every possible way.

When he stepped into examination room 4 and found Jon Sims trying to herd three kittens away from the edge of the examination table at once, he kept his deep sigh on the inside. Jon was batting a thousand, and he’d been coming around long enough for everyone in the clinic to know about it.

“Hello again, Jon,” Martin said, doing a wretched job of hiding his smile.

Jon looked up with a helpless expression. “It’s kitten season,” he said, and Martin poured all his sympathies into a more situation-appropriate sigh.

“It’s kitten season,” Martin agreed. “So, where did these little ones come from?”

“These came from the colony in Battersea,” he replied. “Well, sort of. The mother already has an owner, and said owner keeps letting her out every day, even though I’ve told her time and again there’s that unfixed tom I’ve never been able to catch—and that’s just the one I know of—”

Martin scowled as he examined one of the squirming kittens. Much easier to manhandle than rabbits, he thought, apropos of nothing. “Better than being born on the street, I suppose.”

“Small mercies,” Jon agreed. “Anyway, when the kittens were born she told me either I could take them or she was going to take them to the park and give them out for free, which really isn’t a choice at all. Poor things.” The ginger kitten in his hands squealed until he settled it more comfortably against his shoulder, where it calmed down and immediately tried to eat his hair.

“Gonna find a foster for them, then?” Martin asked.

“I don’t have much of a choice,” Jon sighed. “I’d do it myself, but—you know how Duchess is.”

“Yes. How is Duchess, by the way?”

“Cantankerous as ever. You don’t happen to have room, do you?”

“Room, yes. Time…” The black kitten was finished with her exam, and protested when she was put back in the carrier. “Did Sasha tell you about the puppies?”

“I haven’t seen Sasha today,” Jon replied, handing over the ginger kitten when Martin reached for it. “What puppies?”

“Rosie came in early this morning,” Martin informed him, wincing when the kitten bit hard on his thumb. “There was a box waiting by the door, with four puppies inside. No note or anything. So, that’s been fun.”

“I can imagine,” Jon said distastefully. “Are you serious? Someone just left a box of puppies on the doorstep? Like foundlings in a Dickens novel?”

Martin snorted before he could think better of it, startling the kitten into biting him again. Jon was the only person he’d ever met who would use a word like foundlings. “More or less. They are cute, though. Tim says his brother might be interested in taking one, and Sasha says she’s got friends who volunteer at a dog rescue. Retrievers usually aren’t too hard to adopt out.”

“Well, good luck to you. I suppose the season’s hard on everyone.”

The three kittens were in good health, which Martin was more or less expecting. Kittens tended to have a better chance when born in a home than out in the street—even in a less than responsible home. Between the two of them, Martin and Jon got them back into the battered old carrier, where they went back to wrestling each other in the blankets. Jon reached in to tickle one between the ears and got nipped for his troubles, but it only made him smile.

“Well, anyway,” Martin went on, realizing that he’d been staring long enough for it to be rude. “I don’t think you need any follow-up care instructions?”

Jon laughed quietly before closing the carrier. “No, I think I’m alright. Thank you, Martin.”

“It’s not problem. Always a pleasure.” Martin beamed. “Good luck on finding them a foster. And—catching that tom.”

“One of these days, I swear.”

Martin showed him back out to the front. Not necessary, considering how often Jon walked that hallway. But it felt nice to walk beside him, talking shop or chatting about nothing, all to the background tune of healthy, vocal kittens.

After waving Jon off, he turned back to find Sasha watching him from behind the front desk, chin in hand, the very picture of unimpressed.

“What,” said Martin.

“He’s been coming in for months,” she said, raising an eyebrow at him. “Are you going to make a move or not?”

“No I’m not going to—Sasha, he’s a client.”

“So? It’s not like you’re his doctor. There’s no conflict of interest or weird power dynamic when your role in his life is taking care of animals he brings in.” Sasha sat back, letting the swivel chair roll backward. “You’re already chatting like old friends every time you see him.”

“I know, I know, it’s just—it’s weird?” Martin shrugged helplessly. “We only ever meet during business hours, so it’s like—how much of our, our, our friendliness is just a working relationship?”

“Easy fix!” Sasha spread her hands wide. “The man works at a cat rescue! You can just swing by and say hello anytime!”

“He works there part-time, and I don’t know what hours! Not like I can just stand outside and case the place until I see him.”

At that moment, the door to the back swung open, and Tim poked his head out. “Could I get some help? Bailey’s giving me some trouble and I need an extra set of hands.”

“Be right there,” Martin replied. To Sasha, he said, “Look, I’m fine. It’s not a big deal, we’re just two people who keep meeting in very specific circumstances. And that’s all it needs to be.”

Sasha sighed. “I just think you’re making this out to be more complicated than it needs to be.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Martin muttered, and followed Tim into the back.

[marimopeace]

d. gray-man still fucks me up...

in the best of ways, even after all these years plus breaks on my end as a fan and hoshino's circumstances.

loved all things gothic and fantasy in middle school to escape my life via power-wielding teens (i.e. 07-ghost, pandora hearts, soul eater, karneval, hakkenden, etc.) and d.gray-man was huge for me since i was still in a phase where i was binging all the long anime series i could since it gave my attn span something to latch onto and be immersed in for a good amount of time. tbh i can't tell if my attn span has gotten even shorter considering i usually substitute streaming social media videos over tv nowadays or better since i'm able to better sustain interests in specific niche things?

i switched to consuming content on a more seasonal basis in high school but i became more of a manga reader so at the time i was still on the nose for the rare new d.gray-man chapter. i was so excited for when hallow was announced! i think the hallow promo visuals + posters were some of the last things i shared on my old tumblr blog actually lmao. didn't love hallow as a show but i loved it for what it brought back to me in terms of bringing hoshino's drawings to life via sound + color and seeing ppl turn into fans via gifs in comment sections. that's part of the reason why the furuba reboot meant a lot to me too tbh! always so nice when you can see new and old fans come together to show artists the love they deserve <3

took a break from d.gray-man specifically since the searching for a.w. arc was just a lot for me to take in chapter by chapter since it was hard to keep track of intricate plot details without needing to re-read some chapters for every release and that's not how i enjoy content personally. and i guess from there life just kind of ? came and went? college + growing up in general with new life obligations have changed the way i pursue entertainment aha.

i don't know what switched it on but i ended up spending this past weekend going through everything from scratch! i haven't sat down to marathon 100+ chapters/episodes of anything in a long time since i either keep up with shorter serials now or keep up with things on a monthly basis and wowwww the immersion hit different this time fr XD i swear i felt like a kid again!

but wow going through the entire manga + anime bit by bit from my new position in life really made me appreciate hoshino's storytelling a lot more; it's not so much that the plot of d.gray-man aged well, but that the whole series works together to tell one of the most cohesive stories i've seen for a fantasy shonen (esp with such a young protagonist--allen is the age of a high school sophomore!!!!!! a literal child!!!! someone be on his side kthxJohnny).

when i say i went through bit by bit i MEAN IT i fully had a list of episodes via wikipedia out and i was going through chapter arcs as they were recreated in the old anime series i went in completely XD god i'm crazy.

but it felt so sweet and so wonderful to dive into the adventure head-on.

i'm trying to do the same with the hallow sequel but reading/watching d.gray-man like this is really making me see how rushed it was ^^; it's taking more chapters to get to where each episode of hallow ends and i get why hoshino was so peeved with both shows now to be honest for the out of order details or skipping of content.

i'm also really resonating with hoshino's anger towards TMS for the hallow promo materials and i get why she went as far as to shoot their bank accounts in the foot bc the way i started tearing up during hallow episode 6 with talk of the lotus, flashbacks, and the hand reaching up to the sky....ㅠㅠ #bigoop

kanda shouldn't have been shoved into a yaoi narrative for the sake of money (nor allen esp considering his age) since it completely goes against his character arc and everything he is with alma. i'm getting so fucked up by their past lives' love story and their current again like when i say the tears i'm shedding come from something so old and deep inside of me ㅠㅠ (oh lorde it's so sad!!)

i had to pause my marathon since i spent my monday without wifi bc of a storm in my area and it'll prob be a while until i can finish re-reading/watching until the end of hallow. i'm excited to read new saying goodbye to a.w chapters though! i know it'll definitely be worth waiting these past few years <3 seeing allen's character growth as he matured as a "destroyer who saves" and how he grapples w mana's influence is fascinating and exploring the nitty-gritty of the morality that pervades the Black Order is just! ugh love this kind of worldbuilding with strong characters sm

planning this next content binge will be tricky though since i meant to catch up on the furuba reboot before it ends next week...welp i'll see how this goes ^^;

// time to get to writing this thesis marimo! //

[evening-starlight]

Warm Beers

Taglist is OPEN! Dm or comment to be added

Posting Schedule: Monday, Wednesday, Friday

This takes place before season one!

All Works Master List

Warm Beers Master List

11

Word Count: 1808

    Kenzie slips out of her room, quietly closing the door behind her. JJ was still asleep, cuddling into one of Kenzie's pillows with the green dinosaur squishmallow John B. gifted Kenzie last year under one arm. He looked so peaceful that Kenzie couldn't bring herself to kick him out, even though it was already eight in the morning, and she could hear her dad downstairs making breakfast.

    "Does JJ want eggs?" Shoupe asks, back turned towards Kenzie when she enters the kitchen. His daughter stops in her tracks and stares at his back. How the hell did he know? Kenzie made sure that everything was put away and that they stayed quiet all night. "You're not as sneaky as you let yourself believe, Z," Victor points out and looks at his daughter with a knowing smirk.

    "Dad, I'm so sorry," Kenzie starts to apologize, knowing she broke one of her dad's rules. Again. No boys were allowed to have sleepovers until after she was eighteen.

    "Don't apologize. I've known since the first night. If I wanted to get you in trouble, I would have," Shoupe points out, turning back to the scrambled eggs in the pan. "You're too good to that boy, you know?"

    Kenzie slides into a barstool and leans against the counter. She rolls her eyes and protests, "He just needs some extra love. You've seen the deadbeat dad he got stuck with."

    "I know. I'm just giving you shit. Now, does JJ like his eggs scrambled or over easy?" Kenzie shrugs. "You're best friends, and you don't know how he takes his eggs? Are you even best friends?" Victor jokes.

    "I'm sorry, I didn't know I had to know his damn egg order to be considered best friends. I'll demote us to acquaintances again," McKenzie sasses with a roll of her eyes. Shoupe laughs at her and dishes his eggs onto a plate.

    "You didn't want any, did you?" He asks as he takes his place next to Kenzie at the kitchen island. Kenzie shakes her head. She wasn't the biggest fan of eggs unless she was low on protein. If they had more cheese than egg, she would eat them, but the Shoupe household was out of cheese at the moment. Which Kenzie considered a crime punishable by death. "Didn't get any sleep last night?" Kenzie shakes her head again as Shoupe's phone starts to ring. He sighs when he sees the caller and answers it. McKenzie slips off her barstool and goes to grab a breakfast shake from the fridge while her dad gets called in early for work.

    He sighs and hangs up, looking at McKenzie. "I have to get going, Z. I'll see you later tonight?" Kenzie agrees and hugs her dad goodbye. He leaves the house with his plate of eggs and his ceramic coffee mug. Victor had already gotten dressed and everything he needed for his workday when he decided he had enough time for breakfast. Which, obviously, got cut short.

    Kenzie moves to the living room couch and sits on the far end, drinking her shake and scrolling through social media absentmindedly while she thinks about her plans for the day. She should probably clean up her bedroom, or she could forget that and go play with the Pouges on the water.

    She glances up from her phone when JJ sneaks downstairs, looking around for the deputy. "He's already at work, Maybank," Kenzie calls up, causing the boy to jump. She giggles and waves him over. JJ jogs over and jumps on the couch next to her. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

    JJ rolls his eyes and slaps Kenzie's phone out of her hands. "What the hell, JJ?"

    "I wanted your attention," JJ shrugs, smiling at her innocently. "The fuckers have work today, so it's just you and me until three. So, what are the plans?" JJ asks, heading tilting. Kenzie rolls her eyes and picks her phone up from the ground.

    "Who said I wanted to hang out with you?" Kenzie jokes. JJ pouts and crosses his arms like a child throwing a tantrum. "I'm kidding, J." Kenzie laughs, pushing JJ's arm lightly. "I thought that I should clean my room but would rather play games," Kenzie suggests.

    "I say we play games all day," JJ inputs, causing Kenzie to giggle. Her eyes catch the Hello Kitty band-aid still stuck on his chin, heightening her giggles into a real laugh. "What?" JJ asks, forgetting the bandaid is stuck there.

    "You have a kitty on your face," She laughs. JJ's hand slaps the plaster and starts to giggle as well. "You look so stupid," Kenzie continues to laugh as JJ claws the Hello Kitty off of his face.

    "You're the one who forced me to wear it last night," JJ exclaims, rolling up the bloody band-aid and tossing it to the floor. "What's the plan, Ken?" He asks, trying to forget the way his heart melted when Kenzie kissed the wound late last night. It didn't mean anything - to either of them - but it was such an innocently sweet thing Kenzie always did to make JJ feel a little bit better.

    McKenzie rolls her eyes, picks up JJ's disgusting plaster between two fingers, and takes it to the kitchen trash can. "I'm always picking up after you disgusting idiots," Kenzie says, shaking her head as she walks back to the living room. JJ just smiles a Cheshire cat-type smile as he lounges on the couch. "Pick a game, Loser," Kenzie instructs as she plops down next to him.

    JJ starts up her game system and scrolls through her options before landing on a first-person shooter he knew he'd beat Kenzie at. As she takes the remote, JJ grabs her legs and sets them on his own. She squeals slightly as she gets pulled closer to him, practically sitting in his lap. When given a questioning look from Kenzie, he just shrugs and starts the game. He just needed a little extra physical love this morning.

    The two yell and push each other when the opposite kills them during their numerous rounds. Kenzie's tongue sticks out the corner of her mouth as she concentrates on the game in front of her. JJ takes notice when he glances over at her.

    Kenzie's hunched over, feet planted firmly on the ground instead of over his legs after he brutally killed her. The controller is clutched tightly in her hands as if the pressure she hit the buttons with would make the attacks hit JJ harder. Her tongue pokes out, and her eyes squint at the screen in concentration. JJ could feel his heart pick up in pace as a smirk spreads across McKenzie's face.

    "Bomb! Headshot, Maybank," Kenzie cheers, jumping up from her seat and doing a small victory dance in front of JJ. He forces the smile that creeps across his face down as Kenzie continues to dance. She was so happy that she won against JJ that she was practically glowing. Her smile spread so far across her face that her chin dimple appears.

    At this point, JJ knew there was something else besides beers and not eating causing his upset stomach. But it didn't hit him until Kenzie turned to face him, smiling wide and eyes bright, that the feeling came up, and he felt like he needed to throw up. Kenzie was one of the most beautiful people JJ's ever had the pleasure to have in his life. Both inside and out. But was he going to confront these feelings? He's JJ Maybank. Of course he won't.

    "I let you win," JJ pouts, crossing his arms and leaning back into the couch. Kenzie giggles and jumps on the couch next to him, knees tucked under her. JJ rolls his head to the side and glares at Kenzie. Her eyes glisten with victory as she stares back at the boy.

    "You didn't let me win; you got distracted," Kenzie points out. She obviously saw JJ staring and used that to her advantage. He wasn't as sneaky as he liked to think he was. Drool was practically flooding out of his mouth as he looked her over. Kenzie was a little flattered that JJ got distracted by her, but it also made her stomach clench.

    "Yeah? By what, Ken?" JJ prompts, sitting up so he's even with Kenzie. Something was yelling at him to lean in, to make a move on his best friend. JJ knew he shouldn't, but the urge to kiss those pretty pink lips grows the longer he looks at them.

    "My unfathomable beauty," Kenzie teases, leaning closer to JJ unconsciously. JJ smirks and glances down at Kenzie's lips again. They just looked so fucking kissable right now. Kenzie's tongue pokes out and licks the soft skin, egging JJ on more.

    Kenzie can feel JJ's breath fan across her face as they slowly gravitate towards each other. This was wrong on so many different levels. They were best friends, and there was the no-Pouge-on-Pouge macking rule. But being this close and this intimate was causing both teens to get upset stomachs and throw caution to the wind.

    The garage door swings open harshly, and the deputy follows soon after, carrying his empty dishes and looking around frantically for something. Kenzie jumps to the opposite side of the couch while JJ leans back into the soft sofa cushions casually. As if they weren't about to kiss.

    "What are you looking for, Dad?" Kenzie asks, scratching the back of her neck. Shoupe takes one look at the teens and rolls his eyes. They looked like love-sick puppies who longed for the other's sole attention.

    "I got to the station and realized I left my badge at home. Have you seen it?" Victor asks, still looking in the kitchen.

    "You didn't have it this morning, so it's probably still upstairs, in your room, on your dresser," Kenzie says, knowing exactly where Shoupe keeps his personal belongings. He sighs out a thank you and goes to retrieve it. The teens stay silent and avoid all eye contact.

    This had got to be the most embarrassing situation Kenzie has ever been in. It was getting hotter in the room by the second, and Kenzie and JJ continue to ignore the other's presence in stiff silence.

    Kenzie's dad yells down that he's found as he trots down the stairs. He places a quick kiss on his daughter's head and eyes JJ suspiciously before bidding his goodbyes and running out the door. The friends continue to sit in silence, staring at the floor, before Kenzie breaks the silence.

    "Are we going to talk..."

    "No," JJ answers curtly and picks up a remote. "Let's just play." Kenzie agrees silently and goes back to fighting JJ, who won't let up on the poor girl.

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