#small shower stall curtain rod

[siilvan]

bloodsport – II

prologue | part one | next

characters: vladimir makarov

summary: you never realized how boring captivity could be. you hate to admit it, but makarov is the only interesting thing around, and perhaps the closest thing you have to an ally in this place.

genre: angst, slowburn, enemies to ?, fem!reader (callsign: petra, no desc.)

warnings: semi-proofread, cursing, canon-typical violence, descriptions of blood/injuries, inaccurate medical procedures, reader gets harassed :/, reader kills a dude, russian written by a non-russian speaker (please correct me if it's wrong!!)

word count: 3.7k

note: the temptation to write the filthiest makarov/reader/yuri fic is slowly taking over my brain. i'm begging activision to reveal my ex-war-criminal husband already bc i have two hands for a reason

true to his word, you don't see makarov for the rest of the day. after you're brought back to your cell and locked away, you take the time to rest and gather your thoughts. the lumpy bed provides little comfort as you try to sleep, but it's better than the cold floor. you manage to drift off eventually, even with every voice and sound in the corridor stirring you awake.

when you finally drag yourself out of bed the next morning, blinking away any lingering exhaustion and gently stretching your sore muscles, the sky is still dark. the storm that was raging all night had subsided for now, and through the single barred window on the back wall, you can see groups of soldiers outside. running drills, training in marksmanship, transporting supplies, patrolling the grounds - it reminds you of the bases you've visited with the team.

the team. you trudge over to the only other furniture in the room, the metal chair that you moved to sit near the window, and plop down onto the seat unceremoniously. with how muddled your mind has been since the conversation with makarov, you've hardly had time to think about them.

they're alive. you just need to keep telling yourself that. they'll come for you as soon as they can. all you can do until then is keep faith and survive.

as a pair of boots stomps down the hall towards your cell, you begin to ponder if taking matters into your own hands is the only way you'll escape. you're just as capable as the rest of your team, surely you can find a way out of this crumbling prison.

you turn your head at the sound of keys jingling. a guard is standing at your door, unlocking it, before looking at you. "let's go," he says, thick accent lacing every word. "you're on a schedule."

with a small wince, you rise from the chair and cross the room. the guard starts down the corridor, heading in the opposite direction that you went yesterday. you follow close behind, clammy palms wringing together. it almost feels like you're restrained again, with metal cuffs digging into your wrists and binding you, keeping you from struggling or defending yourself.

after descending a staircase and passing a few corners, you reach wherever the guard was taking you. he pushes a door open and ushers you inside, revealing a sizeable shower facility. you send him a cursory glance, confused as he motions for you to step further into the space.

"shower." he mutters, standing by the door. you wordlessly turn to the showers, then back to him.

"do you mind?" you ask, nodding towards the door. "i'd like a little privacy. it's not like i can tunnel my way out."

he shakes his head at first, refusing your request, until you decide to do the same, silently staring at him. a beat passes between you until he spins around, grumbling something along the lines of "hurry up," and exits the room. once the door slams shut behind him, you let out a relieved breath and walk over to one of the many stalls.

you scan the area before carefully undressing, paying close attention so as to not mess up your bandages or strain any of your healing injuries. you quickly dive past the thin curtain and toss your clothes over the curtain rod.

a string of curses fall from your lips when you twist the knob and cold water pours out of the shower head, prickling like ice against your skin. cleaning yourself up whilst protecting your bandages is a difficult task, but you manage to keep them relatively dry. you were in need of a fresh set, anyway. grains of sand and dust leftover from al-mazrah is washed down the drain, and as you start to adjust to the freezing temperature, some of your muscle aches follow suit.

a few minutes of relief pass by as you try to relax, though the bliss is short-lived when you remember your conversation from yesterday. you hate the thought of listening to makarov of all people, but did he have a point? are you truly just as bad as him, even with good intentions being your motivation?

you're well aware of what your job entails. as captain price so bluntly puts it: we get dirty, and the world stays clean. you know that some missions leave a sour taste in your mouth and a doubt in your mind. are you truly doing the right thing? can you do better? is there a way to save everyone?

as you shut off the water and attempt to dry off with a clean towel left on a small bench nearby, you realize that you're giving makarov exactly what he wants. he brought up the topic with the intent of messing with your head. he's trying to break you - for whatever reason, you're not sure. all you know is that you can't give up. you have to stay strong for the team.

you pull your clothes back on, nose scrunching at the uncomfortable feeling of damp gauze sticking to your skin. the guards seemed to bounce between civility and cruelty depending on the moment; perhaps you can catch someone in a good mood and request a replacement.

the door swings open and you jolt, spinning around to face the intruder. the man from earlier is standing in the doorway, a look of disinterest evident even through his balaclava. "you are done, yes?"

clearly he isn't the person to ask, you think, following him into the corridor. he leads you back down the same path as earlier, through winding halls and up a set of stairs, stopping once you arrive at the cell you call home. you keep an eye out for anyone along the way who looks to be doing well, searching for a person to seek help from.

no one catches your attention, leaving you only one option: the guard currently locking the door behind you.

"uh– can i ask you a question?" you turn around to look at him, wrapping your hands around the iron bars. he sends a small glare in your direction, but pauses nonetheless.

"what?" he murmurs, standing up straight.

you lift your arms, showing off the damp and gradually loosening bandages. "any chance i can get these changed?"

his eyes flit down to your arms, then back to your face. he sighs, heavy and deep, and grumbles out a reply. "i will get the doctor."

with that, he leaves your sight, lifting a hand to his radio and saying something that you can't understand. "should've agreed to those fucking russian lessons from price," you mumble, staggering across the room and sitting on the bed while picking at your loose gauze.

it feels like an hour passes by before you hear someone coming down the hall again. by this point, you were assuming that the guard had forgotten about you.

you sit up from your slumped position against the metal frame and are immediately greeted by a new person on the other side of the door. an older man, nicely dressed and carrying a heavy bag that you fear will topple him over, regarding you with a grin that feels out of place in this shithole.

"you must be petra," he starts, pushing the door open and letting himself inside. he keeps his distance, both hands visible and wrapped around the handle of the bag in front of his body. "doctor tarkovsky." he continues, introducing himself. you nod, watching closely as he approaches you and places his bag on the bed next to you. the chair is dragged over, much like the other day, and he sits.

"the work you did... you saved my life, doctor." you mutter, allowing him to take one of your arms into his gentle hold. he hums in reply, taking great care in undoing the dressings.

"спасибо, but it was not me that saved you." he chuckles softly, eyes briefly lifting from your arm to meet your gaze. "the commander was responsible for that. by the time you arrived here and into my care, he had managed to stabilize you."

he mumbles something to himself about "his military days" while dropping his gaze back down to your newly exposed skin. your eyes follow his, and you wince at the sight of burn marks and stitched lacerations. a cold breeze enters into the room through the window and stings as it sweeps over you, making you clench your hand into a tight fist.

"the commander? you mean makarov?" you ask, forcing yourself to look away and stare at the wall behind the doctor. the same man that put you here is the one that kept you alive. go figure. you glare holes into a random brick, trying to make sense of it. based on the few interactions that you've had with him, as well as the many things that price had to say, that kindness seems out of character.

the fact that he hasn't tortured you to the brink of insanity is odd enough.

"yes, he demanded that i give you the best treatment. said he wanted you alive and in good condition." the doctor rummages through the bag next to you and begins to clean your wounds and apply new dressings, deft hands making quick work of the process. you remain silent as he wraps your arm in a new set of bandages, waiting for him to finish.

you finally speak once he's halfway through rewrapping your other arm. "is he always so... touchy?" you murmur, almost a whisper.

"touchy?" he repeats the word.

"i think i pissed him off yesterday," you say, tongue darting out to wet your chapped lips. "ended up slammed against a wall. is he always so quick to anger?"

after securing the bandages on your arm, the doctor leans back and shakes his head. "commander makarov is usually the calmest person in a conversation," he replies with a surprised huff. "whatever you said or did must have struck a nerve, made him lose his temper. even the soldiers working under him struggle to do such a thing."

you furrow your brow at him. he waves off your befuddlement and gets started on treating your other injuries - namely, the large gash on your side and the burns on your back. as he's loosely wrapping your back in gauze, he makes another comment.

"it could be that you angered him, rather than what you did."

"i angered him?" you parrot back to him, craning your neck to look at him over your shoulder. the doctor nudges you forward again and hums affirmatively.

yet another thing that doesn't make any sense, you think. besides your affiliation with the one-four-one, there's nothing about you that should stand out to a man like makarov. you don't possess any top secret intel or really hold any importance to anyone outside of your team; so, why is he treating you so strangely? is it a game he's playing, trying to mess with his real enemy, the captain?

are you merely a pawn, a bargaining chip between two forces much bigger than yourself? makarov is dangling your life like bait, hoping to catch a better prize. you squeeze your eyes shut and take in a deep breath, considering your options.

makarov would only hold onto you for one reason. drawing out captain price. that means price is alive, at least to makarov. if you stay here, you might be able to confirm this plan for yourself. however, if you can escape and deliver all the intel you've collected so far, you could prevent the plan from advancing any further. no matter which option you choose, rotting away in this prison cell won't help.

as kind as the doctor is, he's still one of makarov's men. you can't trust him. you're on your own.

"so, is it going to scar?" you inquire with a smile, fixing your shirt after he pulls away. he moves to gather his things, reaching into his bag and handing you a dose of painkillers.

he sighs and sends you another smile of his own. "the burns aren't deep enough, thankfully, and the lacerations shouldn't scar so long as they're properly cared for. you are very lucky."

"guess i am. thank you, again."

you swallow down the pills - dry, much to your chagrin - and give him a small wave as he exits the room, the iron door closing behind him with a soft clunk. the guard from earlier reappears to lock it moments later, leaving you trapped in the cell once more.

⋆⋆⋆

another five days pass by, and you mentally curse whatever higher power put you here. your routine remains largely unchanged: at roughly seven o' clock, one of the guards stops by to take you to the showers. by seven-thirty, the doctor arrives to change your bandages. you're given your only meal around noon and left to your own devices until eight in the evening, when the doctor arrives to change your bandages again.

you are slowly beginning to heal, at least. the lack of nutrition was stunting the process, but according to the doctor, you were still on the mend. it won't be long until you can get the stitches taken out.

you've spent several of these past one-hundred-and-twenty hours wondering if that's what makarov is waiting for. he wants you alive to torture, to indulge in breaking something fixed by his own hand. maybe the doctor is in on the plan. you wouldn't be surprised to discover that he's reporting your healing process to makarov, giving him a countdown of sorts.

as you rest on the cold, hard stone floor, with your back propped up against the side of the bed, tossing a rubber ball that you pocketed at the wall, you question if your paranoia is getting the better of you.

the rubber ball rolls across the ground after you throw it at the wall. it starts to come back to you, before bouncing off the edge of your boot and heading towards the door. you lazily follow it with your eyes, until you notice a person standing at the other side of the bars, their gaze transfixed on you.

it's a man wearing an outfit similar to the doctor's, though you can easily tell that he's substantially younger. in his late thirties to early forties, you estimate. he carefully kicks the ball out of his way after entering the room. you watch him like a hawk, an uneasy feeling washing over you.

"i'll be handling your care today." he announces, plopping his similarly-designed supply bag on the mattress. you pull yourself up to stand and dust yourself off, taking a healthy step back from him.

"something happen with doctor tarkovsky?" you ask as the younger man rummages through his bag and slips on a pair of latex gloves. he shakes his head, not even bothering to look at you, and continues searching through his supplies.

"tarkovsky is busy," he responds, motioning for you to sit. you hesitate for a second, but ultimately decide to shake off the nerves and follow his orders. "i'm going to start with your back today." he adds. you nod, moving to face away from him and lift your shirt up.

he's silent while replacing the gauze, and you're not sure whether you prefer that or talking. his touch is slightly less gentle, which you chalk it up to less experience. eventually, he moves on to the gash on your side, settling in the normal chair with an expression that you find hard to decipher.

your unease is suddenly validated as he cleans the stitches. his unoccupied hand comes to rest on your thigh, just above your knee, catching your attention. your eyes fall from the wall to his hand, then to the open bag at your side. laying near the top of it is a scalpel - small, but lethal in the right hands. you clear your throat and shift, bouncing your knee under his hold, testing the waters.

instead of removing his hand, he slips it just barely higher. you squint, gnawing at the inside of your cheek, debating on acting now or waiting a little longer. maybe he doesn't realize it.

as his hand slides higher, though, gloved fingertips digging into the plush of your thigh, that notion goes out the window. you slowly lower your hand closest to the bag and place it on the mattress next to it. the younger doctor pulls back, examining his work, his thumb rubbing languid circles into your skin. you act while he's distracted.

with trained proficiency, you grab the scalpel from the top of the pile and shove the man forward, slicing across his neck in one swift motion. he stumbles backwards, reaching up to desperately grasp at his throat as he chokes on the blood pouring from the open wound.

"don't fucking touch me again," you seethe, fixing your shirt and holding the scalpel in a white-knuckled grip. the sounds of him tripping over the chair and falling to the ground alerts the guards stationed in the corridor, who immediately rush through the door with their guns drawn and pointed at you.

they're shouting at you, but you can't make out what they're saying over the blood pounding in your ears. you turn away from the dying man and stare them down, unmoving from your spot in the middle of the room.

after a brief standoff, the guards suddenly look over their shoulders and shuffle away from each other, revealing a familiar face. one you haven't seen in almost a week, and assumed you wouldn't see for a while longer.

makarov steps to the front of the small group as the ringing in your ears begins to subside. his eyes dart from you to the man lying on the ground, having choked to death shortly before he arrived at the scene. he chuckles, low and controlled, and turns to the guards.

"убрать этот беспорядок," he mutters, waving towards the corpse. the men holster their guns and move past him, lifting the body up and carrying it out. as the group disappears down the hall, you find yourself alone with makarov. the scalpel slips from your fingers and clatters against the floor, pulling his focus back to you.

"well? are you going to punish me for that?" you ask plainly, the pool of red still visible in your peripheral vision.

"should i?" he counters, casually sauntering across the room. his gaze flits from yours to your cheek, which you soon realize is wet with the man's blood.

you shrug, shoulders drooping. "i killed one of your men. most people would punish a prisoner for less."

he wipes the blood off your cheek with his forefinger and huffs softly, seemingly pleased with the situation. it's only now that you notice his slightly disheveled appearance; his white dress shirt is untucked and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his forearms that are covered in a light layer of dirt. minor cuts and bruises bloom on his skin, resembling self-defense wounds.

"i could never expect a member of the one-four-one to accept capture quietly," makarov remarks, picking the chair up off the floor. "i'm surprised it took you this long, if anything. i was expecting to receive reports by the second day."

he raps his knuckles against the seat twice, urging you to sit. you end up mirroring your first interaction after he sits on the bed across from you, elbows resting on top of his knees.

you grab a set of cleaning wipes from the bag forgotten at the foot of the bed and offer them to him. "so, i'm assuming you're not here to share the fun story behind those obvious self-defense wounds?" you tilt your head to the side, regarding him with a sarcastic smile.

"like i said in our prior conversation," he takes the pack from your outstretched hand and haphazardly wipes his arms clean, the lack of care enough to make you inwardly flinch at the potential pain. "once traitors are found, they are dealt with."

"seems like they got to you first," you snort.

besides a pointed glare, he doesn't dignify your comment with a response. instead, he takes your arm into his hold, removing the old bandages with almost the same level of indifference that he treated his own injuries with.

"ow." you grunt, a bit overdramatic. in truth, his touch isn’t any less gentle than the doctor you just killed.

"stop complaining." he responds bluntly.

"maybe be more careful, then." you snap, tugging your arm back. you're being intentionally difficult, pushing his buttons, but you deserve to be a little shitty to the man holding you hostage.

makarov grabs your elbow, one of the few relatively uninjured parts of your arm, and yanks you forward, until your free hand slams down onto the space next to him to catch yourself from falling. he leans in, your noses nearly touching, and sneers.

"this is the extent of my kindness, petra." he tightens his hold when you try to create some distance, locking you in place. "do not tempt me to withdraw it." he whispers, dark eyes boring into yours.

you swallow back a whimper as his grip tightens again, blunt nails digging into healing skin, nodding in reply. he releases you a moment later and resumes his previous actions, quickly yet effectively rewrapping your arm. you grudgingly decide to cooperate for the other set, making it go by much faster than the last.

"tarkovsky said you're usually pretty calm," you mumble as he secures the bandages in place. "is it the one-four-one that frustrates you so easily? or, am i just a special case, hm?"

makarov, clearly interested in continuing the running theme since your first meeting, does not respond. you really should get used to it. you say nothing more as he stands up and grabs the discarded supply bag, walking towards the door. he pauses, holding the door open, and you nearly miss the words said to you over his shoulder.

"anyone else would be dead already."

translations:

спасибо (spasibo) - thank you

убрать этот беспорядок (ubrat' etot besporyadok) - clean up this mess

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[movertoronto]

What You Need When Moving Out for The First Time

One of the greatest joys in life is finally leaving the nest where you grew up, spreading your wings and growing roots somewhere else. It’s a thrilling and emancipating leap into freedom; to enter a comfortable new space where you can call the shots, no longer live under a parent’s thumb and do what you will when you will. But before you get there, it’s important to know what you need when moving out for the first time.

What are the essentials I’ll need when I move out?

The easiest way to identify the essentials you’ll need when you move out is to walk through your new living space in your mind flowing from room to room. You’ll soon realize there’s a lot to keep track of, so breaking your list of essentials into digestible bites will make it easier to keep track of everything. Let’s start with the room you’ll likely spend the move time in…

Bedroom

A restful night’s sleep is among the most important factors in maintaining a healthy body and mind. It’s important to equip your room with everything you’ll need to close your eyes in comfort and get those ZZZs with ease.

You may be lucky enough to bring your bed with you from your current home, though a new beginning is the perfect time to get a new mattress, bedframe and bedsheets. Visit your local mattress retailer and test-lie a variety of mattresses, from soft to firm, and see which one feels the most comfortable for you. Don’t skimp on the bedframe and simply set your mattress and box spring on the floor; a bedframe not only looks classier but extends the life of your mattress and is better for controlling allergies, too.

If you’re buying a new bedframe, why not look at a whole new bedroom set so you can have a matching nightstand and dresser. A nightstand is ideal to keep your phone, book/digital reader and a glass of water within easy reach even in the dark. You’ll also need a dresser no matter what, even if you prefer to hang most of your clothes.

Next, you’ll need a pillow, and at least two or three sets of bed linens (including pillowcases). Make sure to purchase these items ahead of your move and give them a wash according to the instructions on the label before use if at all possible. When you move in, one of your first priorities should be to assemble your bed frame (if necessary), top it with your box spring and mattress and make your bed. If your new digs don’t have window coverings such as curtains or blinds, that’s a must-have, too. It’s easy to lose track of time on moving day, suddenly feel tired and need to go to bed; a completed and comfortable sleeping quarters is the best reward you can ask for after such an emotional and arduous day.

Rounding off your bedroom essentials are a laundry basket for your dirty clothes and a trash can. Your new environment is bound to look and feel chaotic on the first day after your move; putting your dirty clothes and trash where they belong represents a small (but not insignificant) bit of order. 

Summary:

Mattress and box spring

Bedframe

Bed linens

Curtains

Laundry and trash baskets

Bathroom

It’s amazing to think how many of life’s basic essentials get squeezed into even the tiniest bathroom. When making your move, clearly mark the box that contains all your important bathroom items because you may need access to them the moment you cross the threshold. Better yet, if you get possession of your new address prior to your major moving day, move in all your essential bathroom items ahead of time. These items naturally include toilet paper and hand soap, a hand towel and a box of tissues.

After a long and rigorous moving day, one of your finest rewards for all your hard work might include taking a relaxing warm shower or bath. If that suggestion has already piqued your interest, you’ll want some heavy-duty cleaning supplies for the shower stall or bathtub; a shower curtain, curtain hooks and possibly a curtain rod; shampoo; and a bath mat and bath towel. And in case of emergency, bring a toilet plunger on move-in day as well; if you only have one toilet and it gets backed up, that spells trouble.

Summary:

Toilet paper and box of tissues

Hand soap and hand towel

Bath/shower cleaner

Shower curtain, hooks and curtain rod

Body wash, shampoo and conditioner

Bath mat and bath towel

Toilet plunger, toilet cleaner and scrubbing brush

Kitchen

While the bedroom and bathroom require your immediate attention on moving day, the items you’ll need to supply your new kitchen aren’t nearly as urgent. If fact, some people have been known to live on take-out, delivery and drive-thru food for years, possibly decades. However, this is not a good idea if you have visions of saving money to, one day, move into an even bigger home or live in a better location.

Starting with the basics, you’ll need water glasses, wine glasses and coffee mugs; plates and bowls; and knives, forks and spoons. Your best bang for your buck is to purchase these items in sets, though if you really want to save money while doing good for the environment you can find all these essentials at your local thrift shop for next-to-nothing. Another easy way to save money (and live green) is to purchase a coffeemaker instead of getting your caffeine from Starbucks and Timmies, and whether you’re a tea drinker or not a kettle is another important kitchen item. You’ll also want a couple of dish towels on day one, plus all the necessary cleaning supplies.

A modern-day must-have is the ingenious microwave. A toaster or toaster oven are practically essential kitchen fixtures as well, as are an electric can opener and mixer, and it’s amazing how much a kitchen wand/immersion hand blender can help around the kitchen, too.

Whether you’re a reluctant cook or a serious home chef, you’ll need a set of pots and frying pans, spoons and spatulas. A set of chef knives will eventually come in handy, as will a cheese slicer or cheese grater, a garlic press and cutting board, kitchen thongs and a whisk, and measuring cups and spoons. The list of items you’ll eventually own as you grow into your new kitchen is practically endless, and as unique to you as your fingerprint and DNA.

Summary:

Cleaning supplies

Water glasses, wine glasses and coffee mugs

Plates and bowls

Knives, forks and spoons

Dish towels and hand towels

Microwave and toaster/toaster oven

Coffee maker and kettle

Electric can opener, mixer and blender

Pots and pans

Spoons, spatulas, whisk and tongs

Set of chef knives

Cheese grater, garlic press and cutting board

Measuring cups and spoons

Living room

The room in your home you’ll likely spend the second-most amount of time in after the bedroom is the living room; if you work from home this room might even be your number one. You’ll want your living room to look inviting and chic, feel comfortable and reflect your personal style.

The two most important furnishings you’ll need in your living room are a couch and a coffee table. There’s no better place to relax at home after a busy day’s work than on your couch vegging out to a fun TV show, with your favourite beverage and snack nearby as you escape into fantasy. This is also the space you’ll tend to hang out in when you have friends over, so you’ll likely want a couple of chairs as well. And, of course, if you can’t mount your television to the wall, you’ll need a TV cabinet as well. Other nice-to-have furnishings that will make this space feel homier include a bookcase or shelving, an area rug if you have hardwood floors, and window coverings if necessary.

Summary:

Couch and chairs

Coffee table and side tables

TV stand

Bookcase and/or shelving

Area rug

Window coverings

What are some things to get when moving out for the first time?

We’ve covered the three main rooms you’ll need to furnish and equip when moving out for the first time, but this is just the tip of the iceberg. You’ll need general cleaning supplies such as a mop, a dustpan and brush, a variety of cleaning solutions, laundry detergent and garbage bags. Accidents happen, which is why you should have a first aid kit with bandages, antiseptic ointment and hydrogen peroxide, a thermometer, pain killers (Tylenol/Advil/Aspirin) and cold medicine. You’ll also need a toolbox with equipment to maintain your property including a hammer and screwdrivers; a wrench and pliers; nails, screws and hooks; an electric drill and drill bits; and a level and tape measure. Just in case, you should also have a flashlight and candles, and batteries in all the popular sizes.

All in all, that’s a lot of stuff to move into a new home, and you can’t do it alone. Instead of leaning on your friends for favours, do your friends a favour and contact Rent-a-Son instead!

How much you should save before you move out

The general rule of thumb is that you should have a three- to six-month buffer in your savings account to cover your rent or mortgage payments (and condo fees, if applicable). So, if your monthly housing expense is $1,000, that means you’ll need a minimum of $3,000 just to keep a roof over your head alone. Next, you have to factor in utility bills like water and electricity, internet and phone, parking fees and property tax if you own the home. Oh, and don’t forget regular living expenses…

When you add up all the first-move essentials we’ve listed above, the overall expense runs well into the thousands of dollars. The best advice to help you land on your feet safely is to plan carefully and be smart with your money. You don’t need wall-to-wall luxury furnishings, all the latest and greatest gadgets and gizmos, and the top brand-name towels and linens.

An easy way to save money is to prioritize what you absolutely must buy new, and identify what you can purchase used or even get a hand-me-down from a relative or friend. Let everyone know you’re moving and looking for “donations”; you can even think outside your immediate network and post a message on your social media accounts. There may also be a Facebook group or two in your area that posts used furnishing that could be yours for the taking if you’re willing to pick up the item(s) yourself.

How to budget for living on your own for the first time?

Once you’ve decided to move out for the first time, it can be very tempting to just find a place, move and take it as it goes when it comes to money management. But moving without a proper plan can turn out to be one of the biggest mistakes you could make, leading to credit card debts that can take years or even decades to repay… if you haven’t given up and declared bankruptcy instead.

Most people who have lived at home with their parents have no idea how much it actually costs to live day-to-day and month-to-month. Food expenses add up quickly. The entertainment budget you once enjoyed suddenly shrinks as the simple cost of living adds up. Some expenses come out of the blue because accidents happen, and they will.

Your best bet is to talk with a friend or family member who has lived on their own for at least a year and get a general idea of their expenses. Then apply their experience to your own lifestyle, create a budget and live by that budget while putting those future expenses into savings while you still live at home.

While you’re budgeting for your first big move, make sure to factor in your actual, physical moving expenses. It may feel tempting to try and DIY your move, but Rent-a-Son’s professional moving team can save you significant time and stress, and help you focus on the 1,001 other things going on in your life. Simply contact us now for an estimate; you may be surprised how little it costs to make your first move as easy and stress-free as possible.

Source:https://rentason.ca/what-you-need-when-moving-out-for-the-first-time/

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[zrtranscripts]

Season 9, Mission 9: Last Night

Blame it on the Vodka

~

[bells ring, distant voice gives call to prayer]

SAM YAO: [groans] Oh, the call to prayer is lovely, but my head really hurts. I guess that means we're in New Agadir. Oh, this must be our hotel. My memory's really fuzzy. Five, is... is that you on the top bunk? [bed frame creaks] Oh. Morning, Five. You look like how I feel. My skull's throbbing, feels like something's stuck to my head. [rubber stretches] Oh, hang on. No, something is stuck to my head. It's a sort of rubbery swimming hat. It's really cold, it's probably not helping my headache. I'll take it off. [rubber snaps]

What happened last night? I mean, we can't be the only ones who made it over the border. Where are the others? And who's got Veronica's briefcase? Ow! Oh, we need to stay calm. My head is killing me. I'm gonna get some water from the bathroom. [door opens, shower water runs, shower curtain whips across curtain rod, zombie moans] Zombie! In the shower! It's-it's soaking wet and tangled up in the shower curtain. We're six floors up, how'd it get here? It's coming after us. We've got to lead it out of the hotel. Run!

~

[zombie moans]

SAM YAO: Oh, the zom's almost on us. There's no time to pay the hotel bill, Five, just keep running, out into the street. [door opens, crowd chatters] Oh! Oh no, we're in the souk. There are people everywhere! Well, we can't leave the zom on the loose. Quick, Five, grab something from that market stall, the one with all the laptops. Yeah yeah yeah, that hard drive looks perfect. Aim at the zom. [zombie flesh squelches] Yes! Nice job, Five, you completely destroyed its head.

SHOPKEEPER: You completely destroyed my hard drive.

SAM YAO: Oh, we're so sorry. I-I can pay for the damage. My wallet's in my pocket.

[cloth rustles, dates squelch]

SHOPKEEPER: Ugh. I don't know what pre-apocalyptic guidebook you read, but dates are not considered currency here.

SAM YAO: My pockets are full of dates. How did they get there? Oh, why can't I remember anything?

SHOPKEEPER: Look, I don't want to involve the city guard, but the damage must be paid for. I'm sure we can come to... an agreement.

SAM YAO: [in a high-pitched voice] Disorganized. Useless things everywhere.

SHOPKEEPER: What did you say about my stall?

SAM YAO: Oh! Oh no, nothing! I mean, [nervous laugh] those words, they just-they just fell out of my mouth. Your stall's lovely!

SHOPKEEPER: Guards!

SAM YAO: Oh, no no no! Please no. I didn't mean to say that. I didn't even think it! [guard whistles] Oh no, it's the guards. Didn't Mo say the ones on the gates in the city were employed by New Agadir, not Skull-Kicker? Still, maybe if we explain...

GUARD: It's those two again. After them!

SAM YAO: Again? What did we do last night? Oh, come on, Five, we can't get caught. Run!

~

[goats bleat, chickens cluck, crowd chatters]

SAM YAO: All right, we've lost the guard, but we're surrounded by... goats, chickens, and uh... [mechanical sounds] robotic horses. I think we're in the livestock market.

MARYAM ABANI: Sam, Five, is that you?

SAM YAO: Uh, hello. Do we know each other?

MARYAM ABANI: We met last night.

SAM YAO: Oh yeah. Um, if it's not a rude question, why are you in a goat pen?

MARYAM ABANI: I'm in a what? Oh, I have no idea. Oh, how embarrassing.

SAM YAO: Don't be embarrassed. I can't even remember your name.

MARYAM ABANI: I'm Maryam Abani. Amelia Spens sent me to rendezvous with you outside New Agadir's walls.

SAM YAO: Did she? Then why didn't she tell us?

MARYAM ABANI: She intended to, but perhaps her transmission was intercepted.

SAM YAO: But why exactly did Amelia send you?

MARYAM ABANI: I'm a medical doctor. I believe I'm meant to replace... Dr. Myers?

SAM YAO: Maxine! Oh, okay. Yeah, we do need someone who can impersonate the doctor in Death's Hand. You can sort of hand-wave a lot of things, but it's hard to pretend to know how to take out an appendix if you don't.

MARYAM ABANI: [laughs] I believe I'm to play the part of Doctor Death, which is interesting.

SAM YAO: You should see who I'm supposed to be.

MARYAM ABANI: I think you might have told me something about it last night.

SAM YAO: Do you remember anything else?

MARYAM ABANI: The New Agadir city walls are encircled by a ring of traders. Last night, I found you in one of the refreshment tents and we started making plans to get you into the city.

[flashback]

MOHAMMED BOUJETTIF: It will not be so simple to get across this border into New Agadir. Skull-Kicker holds a monopoly on all advanced tech in the city. Anyone carrying new technology must surrender it to protect the city from infiltration by virus or spyware. Veronica would surely be taken, as would your headsets. Our heroics with Medhi will grant us no exception. We need a plan.

MARYAM ABANI: Let's have some tea while we have a think.

JANINE DE LUCA: I hardly think tea will help.

MARYAM ABANI: Nonsense. Sharing tea is a wonderful way to cement new relationships. I wouldn't have survived the fall of Lagos without a nice bottle of jasmine tea. Also my medical hammer. It turned out to be more useful at caving in zombie skulls than the makers probably intended.

JANINE DE LUCA: Well, I suppose some refreshments would be in order. [tea set clinks, tea pours] It's rather nice, actually.

FRANCES DEMSPEY: [slurps] Yum!

SAM YAO: Mm. Oh, that's delicious. Five, try some.

PETER LYNNE: Mm. Oh! Oh, that's um... it's really um, it's fresh and sort of floral and uh... Mo, aren't you having any?

MOHAMMED BOUJETTIF: [sniffs] Is this cactus tea?

MARYAM ABANI: I thought it was mint.

MOHAMMED BOUJETTIF: No, it's cactus, which should not be enjoyed by people who have a heavily-patrolled border to cross! It's very fast-acting! Everyone, stop drinking.

FRANCES DEMSPEY: I do feel a bit light-headed.

MOHAMMED BOUJETTIF: This is a disaster!

JANINE DE LUCA: Calm down, Mr. Boujettif, we're bonding. Dr.... whatever your name is, have you heard of the McShell maneuver?

MARYAM ABANI: No, tell me about it.

JANINE DE LUCA: Well, you... Uh, how would you explain it?

SAM YAO: Ah, that, well, that, well... McShell's just for zombies, uh, really, but um... Sir, may I, can I borrow your goat? [goat bleats, SAM clears throat] Maryam, now imagine this goat is a zombie. And if two people run away from it at exactly the same speed and distance... Well, we'll show you. Come on, Five, let's confuse some goats.

~

[flashback continues]

[crowd chatters]

MARYAM ABANI: I-I think I've got the hang of it?

JANINE DE LUCA: As you can see, the McShell maneuver is an effective method of leading goats... [laughs] zombies into -

[goat bleats, table crashes over]

SAM YAO: - into the refreshment table. I guess, unlike zombies, goats don't follow the closest target. Unless that target's a platter of dates. Aha! Don't worry. If I put all of them, the dates in my pockets, then the goat can't eat them.

[dates squelch]

MOHAMMED BOUJETTIF: [laughs] Sam, stop.

MARYAM ABANI: Maybe we're not using enough goats? Once we're over the border, let's try again.

[present time]

SAM YAO: So you got over the border and went looking for goats?

MARYAM ABANI: And passed out in their pen. What a terrible first impression!

SAM YAO: Don't worry, I'm sure none of the others remember. That tea was really potent.

MARYAM ABANI: Mhmmm. Speaking of the others, where are they?

SAM YAO: No idea. I'm worried about Veronica. It sounds like we'd have needed to smuggle her over. Maybe – [high-pitched voice] Head!

MARYAM ABANI: What? What?

SAM YAO: Ignore me. That is the second time this morning I've blurted something involuntarily. I do have a splitting headache.

MARYAM ABANI: Oh. It could be an aftereffect of the tea.

SAM YAO: Well, if we all drank it, none of us would have been in a fit state to get Veronica across the border. We could have left her on the other side.

MARYAM ABANI: I can lead you back to the border, but we'll have to hurry before anyone steals your machine. Come on Sam, Five. Run!

~

[crowd chatters]

MARYAM ABANI: There's a chain link fence at the border and a contraband store on the other side. The guards are selling off confiscated goods, though Skull-Kicker usually keeps the best tech.

SAM YAO: If they took Veronica, she could have been sold.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Sam, Five, there you are! I couldn't wake you up this morning, so I came here alone, but it looks like you had the same idea. Have you found Veronica?

SAM YAO: Not yet.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Wait, you're Maryam, aren't you? I remember meeting you, and then tea, and then... Oh.

SAM YAO: And then what? Frances, you have to tell us everything you remember.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: We made quite the fool of ourselves, Maryam.

[flashback]

MOHAMMED BOUJETTIF: That goat has made a terrible mess, and now the guards think you're troublemakers. To smuggle Veronica into the city now, you'll need to buy the most conspicuous piece of contraband you can find and carry it over the border.

JANINE DE LUCA: Mr. Boujettif, I am a highly experienced tactician, and that doesn't make sense.

MOHAMMED BOUJETTIF: You're not a highly experienced tactician, you're a trader and a dilettante. Someone who doesn't do their research, cannot handle their tea, and absolutely not the sort of person who'll be trusted with an advanced computer.

JANINE DE LUCA: Ah, clever. Miss Dempsey, Dr.... Doctor, would you care to undertake this very important mission?

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Yes.

MARYAM ABANI: What was the question?

FRANCES DEMPSEY: We're going shopping, Maryam. Come on!

~

[flashback continues]

[crowd chatters]

FRANCES DEMPSEY: We've got to find the stupidest bit of contraband on this whole stall.

[bees buzz]

MARYAM ABANI: What about this jar of animatronic bees?

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Too small. Mo said we needed something to get us noticed. Like this!

[cloth rustles]

MARYAM ABANI: Is that a zombie? What's wrong with it?

FRANCES DEMPSEY: It's dead, Maryam.

[MARYAM and FRANCES laugh]

MARYAM ABANI: I mean, why does it look like jerky, and why isn't it moving?

FRANCES DEMPSEY: It must have dried up in the salt flats. It's so leathery.

MARYAM ABANI: It stinks.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: It's perfect.

MARYAM ABANI: Let's get it back to the others.

[glass shatters]

GUARD: All units to zone six.

MARYAM ABANI: You don't think that's anything to do with us?

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Let's avoid the guards, just in case. There aren't any by that fence, come on. [footsteps] Where are we?

MARYAM ABANI: I think we crossed the border by mistake while the guards were distracted.  

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Is that a good thing?

MARYAM ABANI: I-I can't remember. Maybe?

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Let's go to our hotel and wait for the others.

MARYAM ABANI: I'll catch up with you. I need to find some goats.

[present time]

SAM YAO: Frances, once you got back to the hotel, you didn't put the desiccated zombie in the shower by any chance?

FRANCES DEMPSEY: No idea. Why?

SAM YAO: No reason.

MARYAM ABANI: Look, that man has Veronica's briefcase!

SAM YAO: We've got to stop him. Run!

~

[crowd chatters]

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Hey! You with a briefcase, stop!

BUYER: Excuse me?

SAM YAO: Uh, hello sir. Your briefcase... [high-pitched voice] Not necessary.

BUYER: Excuse me?

MARYAM ABANI: I'm sorry, he had a late night.

SAM YAO: Uh, please, uh, can we see that briefcase?

BUYER: No.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: I can see the monogram. I'm sorry, but there's been a mistake. This belongs to us.

BUYER: I bought it only an hour ago.

MARYAM ABANI: Can we buy it back from you? Sam, do you have any money?

SAM YAO: Uh...

BUYER: It's not for sale. I like the color. Good day!

SAM YAO: I can't believe I'm about to say this, but Five, can you... grab it!

BUYER: How dare you! Give that back!

SAM YAO: We're really, really sorry, but we need it because our friend is sort of -

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Veronica's not inside! All her components have been torn out. There's nothing in the briefcase except papers.

BUYER: Yes, my papers. Guards, guards!

GUARD: It's those reprobates! After them!

SAM YAO: Oh no, not again! Five, give the briefcase back and run! We can't get caught by the city guards. We're wanted for disorderly conduct, destruction of property, and now theft!

MARYAM ABANI: Not to mention anything else we got up to last night.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Don't panic. We'll find Janine, Peter, Mo, and Veronica and get this all sorted out. Just keep running!

~

#zombies run #zrs9 #s9m9 #last night #zr transcript #zrs9 spoilers

[mattzerella-sticks]

Four of Swords

Destiel, 7.1k, M, Ao3 link

Super happy I can finally share what me and my amazing partner, @maleyah-givemetomorrow, cooked up for the @supernaturaltropecelebration

Hope you all enjoy! (story below, but if you go to ao3 there’ll be pretty pictures - I definintely recommend viewing them and showing love to the artist!)

The Four of Swords, in the present position, means you don't want to interact with the rest of the world. Because of stress, you need to spend some time with yourself - unhealthy always being 'on'. That the healthiest thing to do is to escape.

Dean might crave escape, but it's not something he thinks he can have. Something he deserves, even. After his and Sam's most recent hunt, this cancerous feeling has grown heavy and weighs him down. He cannot escape on his own, as best he tries.

Luckily a guardian 'former angel' angel swoops in at his lowest. Helps pick up the pieces as best he can and lovingly put them back together. But he can only do so much. The rest is up to Dean.

Can Dean take those final steps, say those final words, and finally free himself?

        His leg bounces, foot playing with the pedal while forcing the speedometer past its limits. Fingers squeeze the wheel tight enough he knows will leave permanent indents in the leather. Dean feels, more acutely than ever, how small his car’s interior is. Her cabin walls closing in around like the Death Star’s trash compacter. Aided by Sam’s ever-present stare, weighted by all the questions Dean will not let him ask. Forbade with a shake of his head and a rough flick of the ignition.

        The sun creeps past the horizon, morning rudely greeting them. Beams of light pierce the glass, its glare interfering with his driving. Dean swings a heavy paw up towards the visor and pulls down, hard. It blocks most of the sun but gives Dean a worse distraction.

        His gaze strays from the road to the tiny mirror embedded within the visor. Bounces around the borders of his face, studying the features and additions. Green eyes burdened with purplish bags. Dirt smudged around his hairline, disappearing into his short, mussed locks. Scratches peppered his cheeks like freckles, and the dried blood around his lips looks almost comical. Like he overlined them with an ugly shade of lipstick, clownlike and surreal.

        “You’re drifting.”

        Sam tugs the wheel closer, straightening their car. Dean wills back the discomfort of having Sam’s hand covering his. Of the memory, hours ago, where their layered hands held different context. Pushing. Praying. Reaching for a spark of Dean that nearly drowned and was lost forever. He shakes his head, focusing on the road again. “Thanks,” he says once his brother’s hand drifted away.

        They reach the Bunker minutes later, Dean parking between the green Hudson and silver Chrysler. Both collecting dust. Dean checks his phone – 8:34 a.m. 3 missed calls, 8 unanswered texts. He swipes for the message thread, not reading any of the grey bubbles and typing a simple message. Back. Then Dean drops it in an empty cupholder and lays his head on the wheel.

        Exhaustion drips along his bones like slime, filling the spaces between joints. His muscles broadcast their pain in full stereo, working in tandem with his brain. Each twinge a reminder of what happened. What he did and what he almost became.

        Someone howls. It is far, but familiar. It sounds like – home? Belonging? Right? More noise, this time closer. Snarling. Snarling and growling. His jaw shudders and bends, reforming. A fire crackles under his skin, urging him forward. Follow the call. Follow the scent. Smell that, hear that, it is all so… pure. Free. You are free. Trust your instincts.

        “Fuck,” he hisses. Dean presses his dirty nails into his palms, a reminder of their usual bluntness. Definitely not sharp enough to pierce the skin. He can’t hurt anyone else with them. “Fuck…”

        Sam shifts at his side, hovering. Worrying. “Dean –“

        “Not now, Sammy,” he says. Dean sucks in a large breath, fixing his armor. Raises his head off the steering wheel, staring out the window. “I’m not ready, not yet.” He wasn’t ready when they watched the barn disappear behind them, burning, smoke drifting into the starless night. When they stopped at the motel so Sam could collect their stuff while Dean idled in the parking lot. When Sam exploded halfway between Denver and Cheyenne, drool wet on his chin, and still unprepared when he apologized minutes later.

        He didn’t deserve his damned forgiveness.

        “Just…” Dean breathes, shivering, “go.”

        The car door opens and shuts with soft clicks. Dean watches his brother stumble over half-asleep legs to the exit, Sam’s gait heavy and awkward. He pauses under the archway. His head tilts slowly right, and Dean tears his eyes from the rearview mirror. Dean counts the beats of his heart, waiting. After thirty he checks the rearview and Sam is gone.

        Flinging himself out the car, Dean falls on hands and knees while his stomach revolts. He coughs, splutters, and heaves with all the force he can muster. There’s not a lot in his stomach but it surges up, splattering against the floor. Mixes with the blood and dirty already staining his fingers. His nausea passes the crest and recedes, body nearly purged. He spits into the bile, running his tongue over the waxy film coating his teeth. Gross, but not enough. The taste lingers.

        Right there. Follow the fear, the rapid breathing – babumbabumbabumbabum. There is sweetness in victory, in the thrill of chasing. No escape, only death. Screams cut short when you tear through the throat. Chestnut fur matted with blood, goes down smooth. Delicious. Filling.

        Dean winces at the mess. “Not cleaning that up,” he says, “at least not now.” With his remaining strength, Dean drags his body up. Leans on his car for a moment, then walks away with the door still open and with bags in the trunk. He cannot remember if he left the key in the ignition, nor does he care if he did.

        There are more pressing matters that need attending.

        He wanders with intention, drifting past rows of doors until he reaches the shower room. Dean turns, slowing to a shuffle and then a full stop once halfway inside. Head bowed, he focuses on the contrast between his mud-caked boots and the pristine tiles ruined by his intrusion. Squints and sees a twig lodged in the loop of his lace. Looks closer and sees a small pawprint left immortalized on the material.

        In one bite the head tears completely off, blood spurting up from the severed neck. Sprays his face while he chews. Dean smiles, teeth catching the droplets and licking them clean off. He greedily stuffs the rest of its small body into his mouth, then licks his hands. Uncurling from the forest floor, he continues on. There is a call he needs to answer.

        Dean hears the twig snap while clawing at the laces. He throws his left boot to the side, followed by his right. Peels his socks off and does the same. The second round of dizziness descends as the cool floor coaxes a more measured response from him. Sighing, Dean closes his eyes and continues stripping.

        Even blind, Dean knows what he throws away. A yellow plaid button-down ripped across the back. Brown t-shirt crusty with dried blood all over the front. Jeans camouflaged in various stains, held up by a belt that worked in saving him from succumbing. And underwear that, while clean, were rather unwanted in the moment.

        Goosepimples rise along the blades of his shoulders, rushing up his neck and over his back. Dean shakes, crosses his arms and tucks his chin against his chest. “Come on,” he says, bouncing on his feet, “In and out… you’ll feel much better.” He steps forward and then returns to where he was. “You’ll feel better and clean and – and like yourself again.”

        “This is who you were truly meant to be…” His voice purrs, sparks firing off pleasurably in his brain. A rough tongue licks up his neck, and Dean nuzzles the hand petting his cheek. “Who we were always meant to be… give into your instincts, my pet. Give into yourself…”

        “Dean what are – oh! I’m sorry!” He whips around and finds Cas standing in the doorway. Hands squeezing the towel, eyes trained upwards and not ahead like they must have been moments ago. The blush on his cheeks clueing him in. “I thought, when you said you were home, you’d be in bed…”

        Dean rakes his gaze over the other man’s body. At the scruff in serious need of shaving, unkempt along his jaw and overrunning his neck. The oversized t-shirt, tie-dyed in various shades of oranges, reds, and yellows. A graphic from a Led Zeppelin album ironed on from a collection Dean found at a garage sale, given over because the angel reminded him of Cas. His shirt’s hem overhangs and covers half of the shorts he wears, hairy calves fully on display.

        A year into humanity and Dean marvels at how he stays so heavenly.

        “No,” he says, “don’t feel much like sleeping…” Then Dean drifts his focus away from the other man and back to the shower stalls. Empty and waiting. In a few seconds he could wash the entirety of yesterday into the drains, dirtied water swirling at his feet. Scrape any trace of the wildness with soap and scalding, hot water. Keep at it, until the knot in his chest unraveled finally.

        Dean stiffens. Someone brushed his arm. Cas squeezes, whispering, “Are you going to shower?”

        He nods. Steps forward, and again. And collapses at the mouth of the shower, scrabbling for the curtain and ripping it from the rod. Dean gasps, the harsh sound echoing in the room, and curls in on himself. The cheap plastic crinkles and sticks to his skin, blanketing his thighs. One of the metal rings completely tore and now digs into his stomach. Cas calls for him, but his voice is distant.

        “We can start anew once your transformation is complete. I can hear it inside you, Dean. There’s a killer in there waiting to be unchained. Let me free you from the prison society forced you in, allow your true self to roam, empowered in its glory and righteousness. You’ll be my right hand in my new pack. All that’s left, is for you to break the final lock…”

        “Dean, Dean I need you to say something,” Cas presses a warm hand into his back, kneading the clammy skin. “Please… I know not to hope for anything good but at least tell me you’re here, with me.”

        “I’m here,” he murmurs, “I’m… I’m here.” More of a reminder than an answer. Dean blinks, leaving the acrid stench of death for faint, lemon cleanser. Shadows and dim lighting for humming fluorescents. False promises for strong foundations. “I’m here,” Dean says again, sliding his hand from the curtains to Cas’s, the other hanging at his side. Squeezes at his wrist. “Thanks.”

        “It’s no problem,” Cas huffs, sizing Dean up. He shrinks under his gaze, conscious of how he must look. “Do you want to –“

        “No.”

        Cas nods, as if expecting it. “You want to clean yourself up?” Dean shrugs. He clucks, fingers skimming his hairline on a wide rub. “Look as if you’ve glued yourself to the underside of your car and had Sam drive across any backroads he found.” The joke inspires Dean’s dimples to appear, and Cas’s overly proud smile forces a small chuckle. “Are you able to stand?”

        “I think I can manage…” Dean winces, the plastic shower curtain peeling off him. Cas keeps his face steady, not even a flicker of interest in peeking as it falls, when Dean exposes himself. A superficial wound. Fortunately Cas’s hand on his back and the other, now holding his, stay and help him up. He wobbles on shaky legs but won’t fail. “Thanks.”

        “No problem,” Cas tells him, thumb tickling his pulse point, “do you want me to give you privacy?”

        He swallows his tongue. Or rather, something living inside his throat snatches it and prevents him from speaking. Dean glances at the shower, dread crawling forth once more. The scant space between him and the handle stretches, vision tunneling. He wants nothing more, if only the thought of it didn’t paralyze him. Cas murmurs at his side. “What?” he chokes out.

        “I might have an idea,” Cas says, “that is… if you’re okay with me seeing you like… like this?”

        Dean raises a wry brow. “Does it matter?” he asks, “You already have.”

        “Just being polite…” Cas moves away from him, Dean following for a beat until he stops himself. The other man looks to the door, than at him. He scoops his forgotten towel, dumped on the floor at some point in the past few minutes, and offers it to him. “Here.”

        “Like I said, Cas –“

        “I know,” he interrupts, “but I doubt you want to walk the halls like that, where at any point Sam could stumble on you and… assume.” A hell of an assumption. Favorable too, he thinks. Dean blushes and bites his lip. He accepts the towel, lazily wrapping it around his waist. Not bothering to tuck it, holding it with his hands so they wouldn’t hang without purpose. Cas finally dips his gaze towards his crotch and relaxes. “Okay,” he says, “follow me.”

        They leave the shower room, Dean practically hitting Cas’s heels with how closely he trails the other man. Enough that he could swing his arm and accidentally brush his hip. He won’t, though the possibility is tempting.

        It’s not a far enough walk for that.

        Cas turns the corner and leads Dean to the second door on the right. “I found this awhile back, early on in our stay here and carried it to this room one day when you were out.” He opens it for him, gesturing inside with a lackluster flourish. “Glad I did, don’t know how I would have managed without my angel strength.”

        Dean steps inside, searching. There is not much waiting for him. Smaller than most rooms, he can imagine it being a closet with ease. Spots the tiny holes where screws must have been. Hidden in the outlines of where shelves once were. “Didn’t know you were handy.”

        “I learn fast.”

        “I’ll say,” Dean says, “plumbing’s a bitch to do.” He smirks at the large, stainless steel faucet. There’s another outline underneath against the wall that marks where a sink used to be. Removed so the porcelain, clawfoot tub can rest. “You take baths?”

        “When I can,” Cas tells him, “I find it very healing. Even when I could mend broken bones and turn jagged cuts into flawless, smooth skin with my grace, I found myself drifting here every now and then, sitting for a soak.”

        Dean taps at the rim of the bathtub, pouting. “And you brought me here, thinking I want to…” He doesn’t finish, instead studying the other man. Watches how the innocent question rocks the boat of his good intentions. Cas pouts, folds his arms and scuffs his toe on the floor. Dean softens, “Thank you.”

        “…You’re welcome,” he shifts, turning his back, “Now, do you want to get in? I find that when you twist the handle on the right, the water is warmer.”

        He waits. Panic rises, thinking Cas might leave. Worse that he can’t find it in him to ask that he stay. But then Cas settles, staring at the closed door. Dean smiles and starts the faucet.

        When the bathtub is halfway full Dean climbs in. His knees poke from up out of the water, too tall to stretch his legs. He slides in further, so the water laps at his chin and more leg is on display. Already it fogs over, a filmy layer swirling on the surface. Dean cups some of the water and splashes it on his face, all too aware of much red drips. “I’m as decent as I can be,” he calls, splashing.

        Cas sighs. “How does it feel?”

        “S’nice,” he shrugs, “Not that I get to do this often but…” Dean sees Cas walk over, grabbing at a nearby bucket. “What are you doing?”

        “Helping,” Cas says, dropping the bucket. He kneels, presenting a washcloth and a soap bar he must have pulled from below.

        “Aw, no Cas,” Dean starts, sliding into a low crouch. Braced on the edges of the bathtub. “You don’t have to –“

        “Please, Dean,” Cas whispers. Two fingers rest over his knuckles, feather light and barely there. “Let me do this for you… after what you must have gone through…”

        Dean will not break his staring contest with his navel, sure that if he glanced in Cas’s direction another episode like the one in the shower room will happen. “Fine,” he mutters, plopping back into the tub and spraying Cas with a few errant drops. “If you want, go right ahead.” His arms encircle his knees, stricken expression hidden. Sitting in the center of the bathtub, Dean never felt so small.

        Cas carries on wordlessly. Runs the soap under the faucet before turning it off. It’s filled to about a few inches from the rim, any sudden movement able to cause a good spill. Which is why Cas talks him through the steps. Like a skittish animal, provoked at the tiniest snap of a twig or rustling leaves.

        Defenseless. Unaware. Fattening itself for the lucky prey that happens across it. His lips peel back for his teeth to appear, spit dripping from them. His fingers lead him forward, nails glinting when the moonlight breaks through the foliage and hits them. One clumsy step and what sounds like a gunshot echoes in his ears. It stops. Then it sprints off. So does he, a fraction of a second later. The chase begun. He huffs, he smiles, he growls. Hungry.

        Dean hisses when the cloth rubs over a badly healed wound, reopening it. “Sorry,” Cas says, dabbing the spot again and pouring some water from a cupped hand over the skin. “I didn’t see – I’m so sorry.”

        “It’s okay, Cas.” He offers a wobbly smile, shrugging. “It’s okay.”

        Cas grimaces, Dean staring on the thin, chapped line. Better than blue spotlights running across his face. Soon his lips smooth into something more neutral, and Cas resets.

        He focuses on how the washcloth feels, Cas lathering soap across him. Doesn’t fight when he grabs Dean’s arm and holds it up, running the fabric over and leaving soap bubbles in its track. There’s a jagged cut slashed across his knuckles from a misplaced lunge. Cas, prepared, gently dabs at it. His hold is firm and touch careful.

        Too careful. Too caring. The special treatment makes his skin crawl. Dean winces again as Cas drags the washcloth along his shoulder blades and onto his other arm. “Sensitive?” Cas asks, because he notices. Add too observant, too. “Days like these make me miss my powers.”

        Dean snorts, “So you could fly on out of here without any problems?” That escapes easier than he would like. He curses under breath, sneaking a peek at Cas. Like Dean expected, Cas’s expression makes his heart sink into his stomach. “Shit, sorry…”

        “I don’t need wings to ‘fly on out of here’,” he says, “if I wanted, I could get on a plane tomorrow.” Cas finishes lathering his arm and soaps his chest. Rubs the washcloth over and over his tattoo. Its ink vibrating erratically because of his words, the possibility, and Cas’s closeness “The operative term being wanted. What I want right now is… well, I want you to not feel any pain.”

        But he should. It’s all he should feel. Dean deserves the pain. For yesterday, what he almost did. For now, what he callously said to Cas. For years and years of causing so much hurt and enjoying it and taking pride in it. He should drown in all this pain. Instead he has an angel bathing him in kindness.

        He tries every day to be better than his darkest moment. When he and Cas stared across at each other, fully ruptured. Dean throwing more dynamite into the divide until the ground crumbled beneath their feet and the landscape of their relationship was unrecognizable. After Purgatory he made a promise. His pain should remain with him, not forced into the hands of others.

        Some days they wriggle, others they slip. Dean tries every day. If only every day, he succeeded.

        Cas washes his face, leaning half over the tub so there’s barely a breath of space between them. A simple turn and their noses brush together. He cannot do more than breath, sharp puffs out his mouth. Sometimes muffled when Cas wipes at the dried blood marking the skin around it.

        It’s too much.

        “I almost killed Sam.” Cas pauses, frozen at the corner of Dean’s lips. Some of the soap drips into his mouth, and he can taste it. “Yesterday, on the hunt I… I almost killed him.”

        His brain steams ahead, thinking how Cas might wish for the plane ticket now that he knows. Imagines him dropping the washcloth into his hands and leaving without a word. Again, wiping his hands of Dean’s garbage and climbing out the hole before any more shovels in to bury him.

        Instead Cas runs his fingers through Dean’s hair, smiling. “Tell me what happened.”

        His walls crumble immediately. Dean savors the touch while he begins his story. Cas already knew the beginning – driving into a town beset by murders, where killers left heartless bodies for the police. Rolled in with the script memorized, asking all the right questions. Found the pack’s den and attacked. “We said we got all of them,” Dean sighs, ducking his head, “but that wasn’t the whole truth.”

        The leader escaped. They only realized it when counting the bodies, battle too confusing that losing track of one werewolf in a dozen was unavoidable. Risky in their line of work, but a quick perimeter search kicked up no trace of him. Dean and Sam closed the case, driving off to the motel and licking their wounds.

        “I was careless, or… or I don’t know, didn’t think much of it but…” Dean holds his arm up and looks at it. There’s no mark on the skin, but he traces the bite from memory. “Got me when I wasn’t looking. By the time I knew what was happening it was like I… like something had come over me. I heard howling and I tore off after it. Sam coming back to an empty motel room with a broken lock.”

        If he stays too long in his memories, he will lose himself in them again. Racing through the woods with newfound agility and grace. Jumping, launching himself over fallen trees and boulders. What it felt like ripping apart the first woodland creature he crossed paths with. The soapy taste in his mouth turns sour.

        “The leader was crazy… had this whole philosophy that I believed because he said it and all I could think was how much I trusted him. Thinking was too difficult while all fanged out and slobbering and – and so when he said to trust my ‘instincts’ I… I bared my neck. His instincts were my instincts. By that point Sammy snuck in, and – well protect is a pretty strong instinct.”

        Sam plead, rallying all his strength so Dean’s claws wouldn’t eviscerate him. Dean straddled his brother, raging. Spat on him while gnawing for his neck. The last werewolf cheering Dean on. “Free yourself of your human burdens and join me in total freedom!” he sang, “Eat of his heart and you will be mine forever!”

        “You don’t want this Dean,” Sam said, struggling. The syringe nearby looking damaged but not completely broken. “I know you. Fight him!”

        Dean growled, “Want… want free… want blood!”

        Sam sneered, tightening his grip on Dean’s wrists. He shifted and kicked Dean off. Dean flipped, landing on his back. They both scrambled upright, not wasting any time. With misguided fury Dean pounced for Sam, his brother twisting at the right second. Their fight continued in that fashion. Sam dodging Dean’s attacks, the latter growing more frustrated and sloppier.

        Exactly what Sam planned.

        Dean dove and smacked into a wall, knocking the breath from him. Stunned, Sam dove for his belt and slipped it over some exposed pipe. Not knowing any better, lost within the wolf, Dean struggled helplessly until brute strength won.

        By the time Dean ripped the pipe from the wall Sam killed his sire. Injected Dean with the cure when he scurried towards the corpse and mourned. When all traces of his bite left Dean’s system, he mourned again. Sam standing overhead, watching, unable to lay a hand on his shoulder lest Dean bite at it in his familiar defensiveness.

        “So Sam is fine?”

        He bristles at the placid tone. Unbothered. Like Dean mentioned some off-hand piece of gossip that he happened across while scrolling through his phone. “Yeah,” Dean says harshly, “but I… I almost did him in. Nearly ate his heart before skipping off with some werewolf Charles Manson to start another werewolf cult and...”

        Cas raises a brow. “And?”

        Processing the events aloud help him realize how wildly he overreacted. How Sam clearly held no anger towards him for being on the menu. How there’s no reason for the inky sadness clinging to his heart and soul that makes him feel bad.

        Except it’s there, and having no reason makes it even worse.

        “And…” he fumbles, “And I think I’m getting too old for this.” Dean huffs, sinking against the bathtub while Cas continues petting him. “I’ve been doing this for what? Nearly forty years? That was how it’s going to end… Because I let that werewolf creep bite me and nearly turn me into his slave? Kind of makes everything I said about free will look like I pulled it from my ass.”

        Cas chuckles, laying the washcloth on the porcelain rim. He pulls back, laying both arms along the edge and resting on it. Smirking, “No one will call you a hypocrite because you were under the influence of a werewolf bite.”

        “Yeah, but…” Dean sighs, “I’m supposed to be better than this.”

        “If I’ve learned anything from my time on Earth – from you – is that sometimes we have our off days,” Cas says, “We have to forgive ourselves for them.”

        “Maybe if I tripped and scratched Baby’s paint or-or took a risk on some leftovers I don’t remember, sure,” he scoffs, “but when it comes to hunts… an off day can easily become my last day. Hunters don’t get off days. Heroes don’t… don’t…” He digs his nails into his knee, willing away the waterfall hovering around the edges of his eyes.

        “Well, as true as that is, the fact you were able to see the sun rise means yesterday definitely wasn’t your last day.” The faint traces of humor in his tone barely lifts the corners of Dean’s mouth. Cas sighs. A few droplets splashing at Dean’s exposed leg, his hand now gently splashing the water. “I stand by what I said. Yes, you could’ve been more observant during your battle. And more conscious of your injuries. Then neither you nor Sam would still carry what should have been a simple hunt on your shoulders.” Mentioning it makes his shoulders sag further. “But then again, I could be beating myself for staying here watching Netflix while you and Sam got your hands dirty –“

        “You kidding, Cas?” Dean bursts in, brows furrowed, “The Hell should you feel bad for?”

        “A third set of eyes could’ve seen the werewolf escape – or stop him before he did… make sure you were checked over for serious injuries…” His fingers circle lazily, Cas’s mouth tugged down in a way that unsettles Dean’s stomach.

        Dean sits straighter, glaring at the other man. “You needed the rest, Cas. After that ghoul tore your back up something fierce in Missoula? Even if you knew you could do something, I’d still have kept you –“ The tirade cuts short, Cas’s prideful smirk stealing the words from him. He sinks into the water, so low that water hides his burning cheeks. Adjusts by fully removing his legs from the bathtub, bracing his feet on the wall. Faucet between them.

        Cas chuckles, rustling Dean’s hair. “See. Hindsight is only good for the future, to learn from our mistakes. Time is better spent in the present. Accepting that you did the best you could and… glad there are people who care about you, who will do anything to see you feel better.”

        Dean looks up at Cas, the overhead bulb shining. Mimicking the effect of a halo. He lifts his chin enough to free his mouth. “I don’t know how you can put up with my stubborn ass.” I don’t know why I deserve you.

        “I recall you calling my ass stubborn many times.” I don’t deserve you.

        They always end up circling the drain. Never quite going in, a piece of hair clogging the passage. Right now, with Cas petting Dean’s hair and gazing into his eyes, Dean exposed under him in more ways than one, it cannot get any more tender. It’s still not enough.

        At the top of the peak, you can only go off. They never jump.

        Dean knew his reasons. When it felt like they could, there was never enough time. Something more pressing to deal with, a battle to fight. Always promising that when the moment was right, Dean would do something. But then when those moments came Dean and Cas were never there for them. Kept apart by circumstance, by death, by each other. Compelling. Dramatic. Completely frustrating.

        But then Chuck vanished, he and Amara – light and darkness, creation and destruction – becoming one. Becoming entirely new. Blinked off into somewhere that Dean doesn’t care knowing about. As long as, on their way out, they cut the strings hanging over their heads.

        It seemed like it. Life went on, as normal. Monsters needed hunting and beer needed drinking. Except there wasn’t anything more.

        Hell stayed relatively calm with Rowena reorganizing it. Jack, seated on the throne of Heaven, brought a righteous humanity in his leadership. Even Billie took a holiday.

        When the dust settled, Dean was ready for Cas to be on his way, too. One was offered.

        “Are you sure?” Jack asked, eyes still aglow. Hand raised inches from Cas’s bloodied head. “I can give it all back to you. Give you more… you’d be the most powerful angel in my new Heaven. You can help me make it even better than it was.”

        “Thank you, but… I think it’s time you left the nest, Jack,” Cas smiled, stepping back from him. “Heaven is in capable hands because they’re yours… I… we trust that you can do this without us.”

        Jack nodded, light snuffed. He dove into Cas’s arms, then, hugging him. Then Sam, and finally Dean. “I’ll visit when I can,” he promised, trying not to cry.

        Dean coughed, swiping a finger under his eye. “Soon!” he barked, “I don’t want to see you when I’m eighty!” Their laughter was bittersweet. Fully bitter when Jack disappeared with a flap.

        Sam scuffed the ground, turning. “So,” he said, “what do we do now?” He scanned the area, Dean tracking the same space alongside him. At the scorched earth, barely recognizable from when they arrived. Green drained away and left lifeless, with a few serious scorch marks in certain areas. Like the one near a cracked mausoleum, where Chuck threw Cas. Where he held him by the neck and spit serious venom. Where he drained the little angel grace he had left and made him human again.

        Cas clears his throat, drawing their attention. “After a shower and a change of clothes,” he said, “I think some sort of celebration. At home.”

        Dean’s heart skipped over itself. “Home,” he repeated, “Yeah, I like that.”

        Cas chose and chose again, and his choice never wavered. It was Earth. It was humanity. It was him, and it was home.

        “Why are you staring at me like that?” Cas asks, frowning, “what are you thinking?”

        Dean rises somewhat. “I love you.” He would rather he weren’t naked, nor shaken from a hunt. And a forgotten supply closet with a dirty bathtub in it is hardly the number one place for a confession. But waiting for perfection screwed him over so many times.

        “Oh,” Cas relaxes against the bathtub, sinking his hand back into the water, “is that all?”

        Or maybe he should have kept waiting. Dean pouts, “I love you.”

        “I know. You’re repeating yourself.”

        “No, like…” he drags a wet hand over his face, “I love you. Like, I love you love you.”

        Cas chuckles, light and carefree. Lines around his eyes crinkling in delight. “I know, Dean. I know.”

        Dean gapes, chin slapping the surface of his bath. “You have?” Spurred into action by Cas’s growing laughter, Dean sinks his legs into the tub and sits up again. “For real?” The other man nods. “How long?”

        Cas shrugs, “Awhile.”

        “Why didn’t you say anything?”

        Joy retreats from Cas’s expression, leaving him somewhat guarded. He breaks with Dean’s stare. His hand glides through water and finds Dean’s leg. Strokes it. “I thought nothing needed to be said.”

        Dean raises a brow, clicking his tongue. “So you were happy with…”

        “I was content.”

        He frowns, courage leaping up inside his chest and banishing the lingering traces of sadness and self-pity clinging inside his chest. “Well, I wasn’t,” Dean says. Waits for Cas to look at him again. “Do you know how many times we sat together and I wanted to hold your hand, but didn’t? Roll over on my bed and wake up next to you only to remember that you were down the hall? Sit in a diner and-and when the waitress came by I could say, ‘I’ll have this and my boyfriend will have that’ but was only able to order for myself? I won’t even mention the amount of times I wanted to kiss you because at this point I’ve lost count…”

        Cas squeezes Dean’s thigh, lips stretched wide in a tight grin. “You want all of that?”

        “And more. A hell of a lot more.”

        “Then… late is better than never, I suppose.”

        Dean blinks, “What?”

        He resumes stroking his leg, smiling so openly all his teeth are on display. “I’m saying,” he continues, “that if you want to do all that, I find myself being… amenable. We can even start now.”

        “Are you sure?” Dean asks, too experienced with his luck that he knows he needs more. “Is this what you want? You said you were –“

        “Content,” he says, “But not happy. Doing all of what you described – and more – will make me very happy.”

        Dean smiles, “Really?”

        “Ecstatic.” It’s so deadpan, so blasé, and completely incongruent with the mood of the room that Dean cannot stop the snort escaping from his lips. Followed by hiccupped giggles and, finally, laughter that echoes in the tiny space. Joined by Cas, their voices swell to fill the room. Until Dean snatches Cas’s collar with his wet fist and drags him in for a kiss. Closes his eyes and savors the taste of the other man, taking note of every sensation he guessed right and scribbling over what he got wrong with the parts he never could have imagined.

        In the midst of their makeout session, when Cas presses their foreheads together and laughs about not needing a shower after all. Because Dean hauled him into the bathtub with him despite protests, water leaking onto the floor. When he can, without guilt, lose himself in Cas’s eyes, Dean remembers the werewolf from yesterday. Remembers what he thought freedom meant, and how the monster hadn’t the first clue what it actually was.

        Freedom is not power. Freedom is being yourself. Freedom is the ability to show others the deepest parts of yourself and have them stay and love you for it. Freedom is acceptance.

        Freedom is the way Cas’s fingers scratch at the nape of his neck. Freedom is Cas pressing lazy kisses against his cheek. Freedom is the way their feet knock into each other on the edge of the porcelain bathtub.

        Dean, for the first time in his life, feels free.

Epilogue:

        Midnight is a terrible hour to crave bacon. Time cannot stop Dean’s watering mouth or his growling stomach. He disentangled himself from Cas and blindly pieced together an outfit that, in the hallway’s clinical lighting, included his cowboy pajama bottoms, Cas’s dried shirt, and his robe. Dean shrugs and carries on his way towards the kitchen, hoping for a quick trip.

        Seeing Sam hunched over at the table crushes that idea. He perks up at Dean’s entrance, faltering. Rises for a second before thinking better, instead fiddling with his coffee mug. “Dean.”

        “…Sam.” Unsure, Dean’s own hands run rampant. Closes the robe and hides Cas’s shirt, tying a neat, little bow and securing it tighter. Then he unravels it and lets the robe swing open like curtains. “What’re you doing up?”

        He shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep anymore. You?”

        “Hungry.” Dean winces, the image of Sam struggling underneath him flashing into view. It fades almost as instantly as it arrived, replaced with a more annoyed looking brother. Mouth pulled taut like a bowstring, aimed and ready. Dean glances at the mug for safety. “You make enough for the class?”

        “Check the pot.”

        Shuffling over he sees more than enough coffee inside for him. So, he pulls out two mugs and prepares them. Three teaspoons of sugar in one, four tablespoons in the other. A dash of milk on the left, because Cas thinks it muddies the taste of the coffee. “Thanks.”

        “Dean…”

        His tone draws a quiet sigh from Dean. Settles the hunger that dominated his stomach and replaces it with a slight nausea. “Sam,” he says, “can you not…”

        “We need to talk about it,” Sam continues, “Please, Dean, I –“

        “We will.”

        Sam pauses, stunned. Dean turns around and tamps down the laugh bubbling up. Hard given how rare Sam’s jaw drops so far. In the blink of an eye Sam shakes his surprise off. “What?”

        “We will,” Dean repeats, leaning on the counter, “I promise. I just… I’m not ready, yet.”

        It’s not the best answer. Sam doubts him, evident by the gleam in his eye. And the follow up, “Are you ever gonna be ready?”

        His eyes never strayed from Dean’s face. If he dropped his gaze a few inches Sam would see Cas’s shirt. But he didn’t. Dean can rewrap the robe and pretend it’s not on him.

        Except Dean hadn’t the urge. Instead he draws attention to it, rubbing the hem between his fingers. “Hopefully soon… Cas and I had a good talk and – and well, maybe in the morning I might be okay enough that we can sit and talk about it, or whatever…”

        Sam finally looks at his shirt. Then at Dean with a subtle awe. He braces for an onslaught of feelings, exactly what Dean tried avoiding. Why he thought using Cas as a distraction from talking about those was a moment of delirium. Dean sips at his mug, hiding ruddy cheeks behind the rim.

        Thankfully Sam says nothing. Instead mirroring his sip. “Okay.”

        “Okay?”

        “Okay.”

        Dean nods, drumming his fingers on the counter. There’s kindness in how Sam offers the escape tunnel, even though so much is brewing under the surface. A rarity that Dean never expected. He should take it.

        But there’s more. Dean figures ripping the band-aid off all at once is better than peeling it and feeling every single hair torn from his arm.

        “I think I’m gonna stop hunting,” he says. Sam spits a mouthful of coffee into his mug, choking. “For a while,” Dean quickly explains, “Like, maybe a few months?”

        Coughing, Sam wipes at his lips. “Is this because of the werewolf hunt?”

        “Yes?” Dean says, “No – I mean… Look, it’s not because I’m too scared to get back into the game because of what happened but I am kind of… skittish?” He frowns, staring at the light brown pool in his hands. “Like I’m running on empty and… and I don’t think I have enough in the tank. That’s what happened yesterday, but thank God there was a little more in yours to get me to the next rest stop! Who knows what might happen on the next one so I… I’m making the adult decision and taking myself out of the game before the big loss.” Dean gulps at his coffee, throat suddenly dry. “But not forever,” he adds, “Long enough to sort things out… do the stuff we said we were gonna do when the Chuck mess ended. Maybe go on a road trip or, ah… give Cas a proper first date –“

        “First date?” Sam croaks, a tiny snort escaping, “Think you two’ve past that by a few years. Third honeymoon, maybe.”

        Dean rolls his eyes. “Yuck it up… but I’m not the only one who can use this opportunity to focus on important things… things that you’ve been neglecting… when’s the last time you and Eileen had any quality time together?” Sam answers with a blush. “Thought so… at least I’ve had two honeymoons, or so you think.”

        “Shut up,” Sam huffs, drinking his coffee again. His gaze drifts from Dean over to the door, and the fluster drains off his face. Replaced with a more gleeful expression, lips curling. “Hey Cas,” he sings, “how’s it going?”

        Dean accepts all the awkward energy Sam shed. His grip on the coffee mug falters when he sees Cas. Dressed in a stolen pair of sweatpants and nothing else. “Sam, Dean,” he yawns, shuffling closer. Cas squints at the untouched mug on the counter, “Is this for me?”

        “Yeah,” Dean says, handing it over, “just the way you like.” Cas purrs, kissing Dean’s cheek before sipping. Sam's chuckles accompany his approval. “It wasn’t too much of a problem…”

        “So, Cas,” Sam starts, “what got you out of bed?”

        Cas scratches his head and presses against Dean. Slides an arm around Dean’s waist. “Pee,” he says, “and then I noticed Dean wasn’t there so…” If Cas didn’t drive the point home clear enough Dean would worry after his brother’s intelligence. He feels Cas’s chin rest on his shoulder. “Why did you get up?”

        Dean gestures at the stove. “Hungry.”

        “Hmm… I can eat.” Cas taps on Dean’s stomach, pushing off. He moves and joins Sam at the table. “Whatever you were going to make yourself, make double?”

        “Triple?” Sam adds, “All this talk of food is making me hungry.”

        “Yeah, yeah…” Dean flicks the stove on, dropping the pan on the active burner. His hunger returned, aided by the easy conversation flowing between the three. Cas settles across from Sam asking a question about something he read. The conversation quickly devolves into nerd speak, Dean throwing quips in every few seconds.

        He lays a strip of bacon down, and then another one. And another one. Greases a second pan and cracks an egg on the surface, tossing one half of the shell at Sam and the next half at Cas. They retaliate by pelting him when he retreats to the refrigerator for more bacon. Dean doesn’t care that they hit, nor that he steps on one and has to spend time between the eggs frying and the bacon cooking to pick pieces of eggshell off his heel. What he cares about sits giggling at the table, watching while he cleans.

        Dean is happy.

#supernatural #spn #supernatural trope celebration 2020 #destiel #destiel fic #deancas #deancas fic #dean winchester #castiel

[cakesunflower]

The Viridian [C.H. One Shot]

sooo this is over 20k words of something i really enjoyed writing omg. if you’ve seen Good Trouble, the spin off of The Fosters, this may remind you of it based on the communal living situation. but yeah. i hope y’all enjoy it omg. happy reading!!

“It’s a glorified dorm. That is what you’re subjecting yourself to.”

Parker Hayden rolled her eyes at the words of her best friend, Sage, who had just dropped a box of Parker’s medical books on the wooden floor with a loud thud. Focusing on her task of hanging her clothes in the closet, Parker responded, “There’s nothing wrong with communal living, Sage.”

There was a scoff from behind her as the metal of the hanger clinked on the rod she was hanging them on, the closet space slowly but surely filling up with each additional hanger. “Maybe when you’re in college,” came her best friend’s unconvinced response. “Not when you’re a prodigal, badass trauma surgeon in one of the top hospitals in the country.”

Parker’s lips quirked up at the compliment, ignoring the prodigal part of the sentence. She was quite young for someone in their third year of residency, only at twenty-five when most people graduated medical school at twenty-six. But Parker was smart and made her way fast by herself, without coming from a family lineage of doctors, and had the sociable personality to never let anyone doubt her. Turning around to raise an eyebrow at Sage, who was getting ready to put the sheets on the bed, Parker walked over to help and teased, “I thought I already was a badass trauma surgeon? Have you been lying to me this whole time?”

Sage rolled her eyes as she grabbed onto the edge before letting the rest of the sheet fly across the mattress so Parker could grab onto it. As they tucked the teal colored sheets in, Sage retorted with a small smirk, “You’re a trauma surgeon living in a commune. That’s not entirely badass. Or very prodigal of you.”

“You’re just jealous I get a pool.”

Sage’s movements stopped, straightening as she stared at Parker with dark eyes narrowed in disbelief. “This place has a pool?!” she demanded, hands finding her hips indignantly as her lips parted at the newfound fact.

This time Parker smirked, continuing to fit the sheet on the mattress before snickering, “Not so subjecting now, is it?”

With a dismissive scoff, Sage went back to making the bed as she grumbled, “Whatever. Almost everyone in L.A. has a pool.”

Parker’s blue eyes sparkled against the sunlight streaming through the large window panes behind Sage, whose dark skin was practically glowing against the late afternoon golden rays. They put the pillows on the bed, and Parker grinned. “Everyone but you.”

Sage was quick to toss a decorative pillow at Parker’s face, their laughter ringing through the surprisingly open space of her bedroom. Despite all of Sage’s teasing and comments, Parker was looking forward to living The Viridian. She never really had a problem with living with strangers; she dormed with strangers all throughout college and then in a shared apartment through med school where she met Sage. The two of them lived together during their intern year, but the more Sage and her boyfriend got serious, the quicker Parker realized she was going to have to find another place to live because the apartment they shared was under Sage’s name. The neuro surgeon would never kick Parker out, would’ve forced her boyfriend, Xavier, to be okay with the fact that he would have to live with his girlfriend and best friend. But Parker wanted them to have their own space, would’ve felt like she was intruding despite Sage’s protests, so she found The Viridian, and was excited to stay.

Part of Parker knew that Sage’s comments stemmed from her desire of hopefully getting Parker to move back in with her, but Parker wasn’t going to budge. She was happy for Sage and Xavier for taking that big step forward in their relationship, and she didn’t want to put herself in a happy time that Sage should just have with her boyfriend. Plus, Parker loved meeting new people, had to do so every day at work, and while she understood that living in a place like this meant sharing it with a bunch of complete strangers she’d have to see every day, she was still excited.

The rent was cheap, and the place was quite spacious. The gated elevator would come up to a hallway, glass doors right across that opened up into a wide foyer with grayish-blue walls with a coat closet on the right along with the doorway to the communal bathrooms. There was a row of sinks in the middle of the bricked room with mirrors, the left side where the showers were—sealed only by curtains—and the right side with toilet stalls—though those were actually sealed by proper doors. Parker was used to sharing bathrooms with men when she lived in the apartment during med school, though she knew she would have to get used to stepping out of the shower in her towel and having to see one of her male housemates standing at the sink brushing his teeth or something.

Then again, she was a surgeon. The human body didn’t really leave her flustered.

“Oh, hi! You’re here already, good!” Parker and Sage paused in their way towards the main doors leading to the elevators in the hall, watching as Roslyn, the building manager and just a few years older than Parker, entered with hands carrying bags filled with clinking bottles of alcohol. Lots of alcohol. She offered a friendly smile to Parker, green eyes bright yet apologetic. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, I had to run some errands and—”

“Oh, no, it’s fine, really,” Parker immediately placated with a light laugh, waving her off with a smile. “One of the guys let me in—uh, Luke, I think?” she tried to recall with a furrow of her eyebrows, recalling the exceptionally tall blonde that had greeted her downstairs with blonde hair tied back into a bun and blue eyes that put her own to shame. He’d been startlingly handsome, rendering Parker dumbly speechless for a moment before remembering her ability to speak.

“Good, good, Luke’s a sweetie,” Roslyn smiled in relief, blowing a lock of dark hair away from her face. She reminded Parker of a cute cartoon character, animated in the way she spoke and acted, a happy glimmer in her emerald colored eyes. “Have you had the chance to meet the others?”

Parker remembered the pretty Italian girl with the dirty blonde hair who had greeted her in a hurry as she ran past Parker’s new room, stopping to say hello before running off to a work function she’d been running late for. “Carina,” she answered, laughing lightly as she thought of their brief meeting.

Roslyn nodded along, curls bouncing as she did so. “Well, you’ll meet the others tomorrow night at the party. Calum and Ashton should be back from their trip by then.”

Sage raised an eyebrow, bumping Parker’s hip with hers as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re having a party and didn’t tell me?”

Shaking her head, Parker parted her lips to deny her knowledge of any party, which she truly had no idea about, before Roslyn cut in with a laugh. “Oh, sorry, I forgot to mention it! We throw a party at The Viridian on every first Friday of the month, it’s kind of a tradition.” With a smile at Sage, she said, “You’re more than welcome to come! It’ll also be a housewarming party for Parker! Invite as many friends as you want. There’ll be plenty of liquor,” she assured with a giggle, holding up the bags that were weighed down by the bottles inside. Her grin widened, moving around the two other girls to go into the kitchen as she chirped, “Prepare your livers!”

Sage exchanged a look with Parker, her smirk returning as an approving look flashed across her face—the first one since she’d stepped foot into The Viridian. “I like her.”

                                                       *****

When Parker shut the glass door of the foyer behind her later that same night, it was around two in the morning. A couple of hours after completely moving into her new place, she had to go into the hospital because there had been a ten car pile up, so her presence was demanded in the E.R., which was her area of specialty, with the Head of Trauma. They’d been lucky; no lives were lost in the accident, but the E.R. had been crazy and there hadn’t been a moment’s rest, and no matter how many times Parker thought she was used to being on her feet all the time, the thought was thrown out the window by the end of the day when all she wanted to do was chop off her legs.

It was quiet in the loft, almost eerily so, the only light being on was the one above the stove in the kitchen, providing a soft and dull glow while most of the living room was shadowed pieces of furniture. The large window panes on the opposite side of the foyer in the living room showed the darkened city of downtown Los Angeles, some lights scattered about to showcase a bit of life that still remained awake at this hour.

Silently, Parker wandered into her bedroom, clicking the door shut behind her as she switched on the light and toed off her shoes by the door. As she approached her bed while undoing the button and zipper of her jeans, Parker caught sight of a bottle of Sutter Home white Moscato sitting on her bedside table, her eyebrows shooting up at her favorite wine that she most definitely hadn’t bought, picking up the little card that was leaning against it.

Just a little housewarming gift for you. Welcome to The Viridian, Parker! We’re so happy to add you to the family!—Roslyn

A smile quirked at the surgeon’s lips at Roslyn’s loopy handwriting, perfectly fitting her personality. Parker felt touched at the warm gesture, vaguely recalling how Roslyn had asked her about her favorite kind of drink when Parker had met up with her for the first time about the empty space she was hoping to rent. The fact that Roslyn went out of her way to buy the wine for her as a gift was so sweet, and only strengthening Parker’s resolve of wanting to live her—as if she’d even doubted it.

After changing into a pair of night shorts and an oversized Stanford shirt, Parker found herself not really too tired to fall asleep. She sat on the edge of her bed, eyeing the bottle with a thoughtful twist of her lips. She wasn’t as tired as she thought she’d be, but she was thirsty.

So with her phone in one hand and the bottle in the other, Parker slipped into her flip flops and left her room, walking into the kitchen to pull out a wine glass, rinsing it in the sink before her eyes drifted to the stairs. There was no second floor, with all the rooms on the same level as hers, but the stairs led to the roof she’d only gotten to see when she first met with Roslyn to check out the place. It was spacious and open up there, with a pool in the middle and chairs around it, as well as a space that had turned into a makeshift bedroom with three glass walls anyone could look into.

Parker recalled Roslyn saying that was Calum’s bedroom, one of the two guys she had yet to meet, and seeing as he wasn’t here, Parker quietly made her way up the twisting stairs that led to the door.

It was beautiful out, warm with a calming breeze, as Parker stepped outside, eyes going to the buildings towering around the one she lived in. They provided optimal light for her to navigate her way around the roof, as did the lights in the pool, as she walked around it towards the bricked railing to lean against it, setting the glass on top of it as she poured some of the wine into it.

There was a sense of tranquility that washed over her as she sipped at her drink, arms folded on top of the cool brick as she gazed out at the city, the buzz of cars driving around incessant and never ending. Everything seemed so alive around her, even at this late hour, the occasional blaring of horns reminding her of the millions of hearts beating around the city. She was always around death, trying her hardest to save lives instead of lose them, that the strangest reminder of the life around her was always welcomed. It eased the somewhat erratic rate of her heart after a trying day and steadied her trembling fingers, reminding herself that not everyone’s life was in her control. That she was going to lose people despite her best efforts.

Parker took a sip of the wine before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, inhaling the dull smoke of the city and the chlorine of the pool, her lack of sight making her aware of the sounds around her. Like the gentle rattling of the fairy lights hung around the roof, unlit. Or the distant bark of a dog somewhere below.

And then there was a splash.

A startled gasp escaped Parker, grip on her glass tightening as she swiveled around jerkily, widened blue eyes on pool where the previously undisturbed water were rippling violently, watching as a warbled figure moved underwater. Her pulse was racing, she could acutely feel it, eyebrows shot up and breath still as she waited for whoever the hell it was to show their face. She hadn’t heard anyone else step out onto the roof, too lost in her thoughts, and frankly assuming that everyone was asleep to join her out here.

A few moments passed, with Parker impatiently watching with furrowed eyebrows, not wanting to look away from the pool just yet as a light breeze tickled at her skin. She chewed at the corner of her lip, breath hitching when the person finally decided to break through the surface—right in her direction.

A dark head raised from the water, soaked and sticking to glistening brown skin. It was a man, whose eyes Parker couldn’t see since they were closed, but could make out tattoos marking the skin on his collarbones and arm, water splashing and dripping as he raised his hands push back the hair that matted his forehead. Parker couldn’t tear her eyes away, admiring the way the lights in the pool reflected against him animatedly, watching as his eyes finally opened and she caught sight of dark brown irises and full lips with water dripping from them.

He was probably one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever laid eyes on, she decided then and there, unable to look away even when she was aware of the confused, almost glaring, frown furrowing at his thick eyebrows when he noticed her presence. Two strangers watching each other, lost in thought and confusion and admirance, yet neither daring to just yet break the silence existing between them. For a moment, Parker imagined how he’d glow under the fairy lights if they were on, if his brown skin would appear more golden in the warm yellows.

“Who are you?”

His voice was deep, not uncomfortably so, carrying a bit of a rasp and a hint of an accent in the cautiously curious tone he spoke with. He eyed her suspiciously, dark eyes taking her in, from her mint painted toes to up the length of her exposed legs to the top of her blonde head. Yet somehow, Parker didn’t find herself bristling under his scrutinizing gaze, despite feeling the intensity roll off of it in heated waves, nor did she find it leering. He looked at her as if she couldn’t be trusted, floating away from her slightly, as if the already existing space of water between them wasn’t providing enough distance.

Parker tried not to be offended, not entirely used to people not trusting her right away; as a surgeon, gaining her patients’ trust was always something she excelled at. She swallowed, feeling the remnants of the wine in her throat, as she answered, “Parker Hayden. I, uh, just moved in today.”

A vague recognition flashed across the guy’s face, lifting his chin as droplets of water raced down his neck and collarbones before disappearing back into the pool. Parker did her best not to follow them. “You’re the one who moved into Mike’s room,” he stated, more to himself than to her, his words not entirely having an effect on her. She didn’t know who Mike was, didn’t really care to ask when she found the availability for the room. A place to live popped up and she’d grabbed it. Though, judging by the disenchanted way the guy spoke, it seemed as though he’d rather she hadn’t.

She offered a single, slow nod, grip on her glass tight as her gaze remained fixed on the man in the pool. Parker wasn’t sure if it was the shadows of the lights of the buildings and the pool, but she could make out some definition in his arms, the left one tattooed, biceps glistening with water. “Guess that’s me,” she confirmed, raising her glass to her mouth, taking a sip after questioning, “Who’re you?”

Instead of answering right away, the dark haired man swam towards the far end of the pool before using the steps to climb out, and Parker’s traitorous eyes followed his every movement. They took in the way the muscles on his back rippled as he went, the water melodically dripping down his body as the black trunks stuck to his strong flexing thighs with each step. Parker held her breath, watching as he picked up a towel from a nearby chair and wiped at his face and rubbed it through his hair, dark eyes finding her blue from the distance as he rubbed himself down.

All the while, Parker was forcing herself not to let her gaze linger on his body. His tattooed, brown skinned body with a delicious amount of muscles in all the right places as his dark hair stuck up in places haphazardly. He took her in, as if he was memorizing every part of her, and for the first time Parker found herself flushing under his gaze, wondering what he was thinking as he took in her legs and beach wave hair and makeup free face that showed off the hundreds of freckles decorating her. She refused to shift her weight on her feet, only ever wanting to feel judged by her teachers at the hospital, not by some half naked guy who was making her feel more warm than the wine she was drinking.

And as scrutinizing as his gaze was, it was also lazy, hooded eyes and full lips parted ever so slightly in thought as he regarded her. For the few moments he was staring at her—though, they felt like hours—Parker hated that he was so easily, so effortlessly, driving her crazy in wondering what he was thinking as he looked at her.

Then, he wrapped the towel around his neck, holding onto the ends with both hands before he turned around. Parker blinked at him, affronted that he wasn’t even going to bother introducing himself after she had given him that courtesy. But then she took a soft breath as he took a step up on the platform that led to the only bedroom on the roof, realization striking her a second before he opened the door and answered with a name that sounded like a goodbye to end the night, “Calum Hood.”

                                                         *****

The Viridian was flooding with people by the time Parker arrived with Sage and Xavier. She’d known she’d get back when the party was already started, having stopped at Sage’s place after work to change into more appropriate wear consisting of heeled boots, a tight black leather skirt and a royal purple colored bodysuit with spaghetti straps and tight to accentuate her breasts in all the right ways. They had heard the music blaring halfway up the elevator ride, the sound louder and clearer as they stepped out in the hallway where a few people were lingering before entering the large loft.

The smell of booze and weed hit almost instantly, and Parker raised her eyebrows at the amount of people gathered, dancing to a remixed version of Sicko Mode playing throughout the loft. But before letting herself get lost in the party, Parker quickly went over to her room, smiling in relief that the door was locked before pulling out her key to unlock it, toss her bag inside, and pocket her key with her phone after locking the door behind her so no one would enter.

She heard an excited squeal over the music as she found Sage and Xavier in the kitchen, pouring themselves some drinks. “The guest of honor has arrived!”

Parker turned to look at a grinning Roslyn, her cheeks flushed which told the surgeon that the green eyed girl was already slightly drunk, letting out a laugh. “No, no, I’m not the guest of honor. Please don’t say that.”

Roslyn clicked her tongue, waving her off with her free hand as the other held a cup, before gesturing to a guy that she’d pulled along with her. Parker looked up at him, just now noticing the tall man who had a dimpled smile and red hair that put her lipstick color to shame. “This is Ashton!” Roslyn introduced loudly, hugging the man sideways as he chuckled and draped his arm around her shoulders. “His room’s the one next to yours. Ash, this is Parker, our new roomie.”

“It’s great to meet you,” Ashton smiled, shaking Parker’s hand as she returned the friendly grin. “I was hoping to meet you this morning but Rose said you were already out.”

Smile turning slightly apologetic, Parker let out a short chuckle. “Yeah, sorry—I’m a surgical resident over at St. Ambrose so I’m always running out at odd hours,” she informed him, leaning her hip against the stoned counter where all of the bottles and cups were laid about for people to help themselves to.

At her words, Ashton’s eyebrows shot up as he tilted his head. “Oh, really? That’s cool as shit,” he grinned in admiration. “What’s your, uh, specialty?”

“She’s a kickass trauma surgeon,” Sage’s proud voice cut in, widening Parker’s grin with a scoff as she felt Sage’s arm drape around her shoulders. Ashton and Roslyn both looked at her with smiles quirking at their lips while Sage held her cup, not so humbly adding in, “And I’m neuro. Saving people’s lives—it’s what we do.”

Parker rolled her eyes, laughing out a muttered, “Oh, God,” as Sage introduced herself and Xavier. The two of them then conversed with Ashton, while Roslyn looked around before huffing to Parker, “I want you to meet Calum too, but I don’t know where he is.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Parker shook her head, turning to the counter to grab a clear plastic cup to make herself a margarita as she spotted the ingredients around. “I, uh, met him last night, actually,” she added, feeling her throat dry just a little bit at the image of the shirtless, soaked man that flashed through her mind.

“Mm, really?” Roslyn questioned excitedly after swallowing a sip of her drink, stepping up next to Parker as she made her drink. The high volume of the music practically made the stone counter vibrate under her touch. “What’d you think of him?”

Intense. Hot. Drop dead gorgeous. “Uh, we didn’t really get to talk much but he seems. . .”

A small, knowing smirk quirked at Roslyn’s lips as she raised her eyebrows, tilting her head slightly. “Quiet? Broody? Like he would rather get hit in the head twice over than have a conversation?” Her quick words had a startled yet amused laugh escaping from Parker, eyebrows shooting up as she glanced at the building manager, catching the grin spreading on Roslyn’s lips. At least Parker wasn’t the only one who got that kind of vibe from Calum. He did seem like the type to keep to himself, but she just figured that was because they were literally meeting for the first time at two in the morning, when neither of them were too in the mood to hold a proper conversation. “Trust me, he’s a real nice guy once you get to know him. He just keeps to himself most of the time.”

Parker nodded along as she brought her cup up to her mouth, taking a sip of the margarita and enjoying the perfectly bittersweet taste of it as her gaze just happened to look over Roslyn’s head. What she caught sight of, through the dancing people, had her eyebrows raising as she chuckled to Roslyn, “He definitely looks like the type to keep to himself.”

Roslyn’s eyebrows furrowed at her statement, turning around to follow Parker’s gaze. When she caught sight of what Parker saw, Rosyln let out a snort of a chuckle. They were both currently looking at Calum, seated on the couch with a cup in one hand while his left arm was wrapped around the shoulders of a leggy dark blonde, a flirtatious smile on her lips while he talked into her ear, whatever he was saying only making her grin widen and lean into him more.

“He is,” Roslyn responded with a dismissive roll of her eyes, looking back at Parker with a shrug of her shoulders. “That’s just Violet, his flavor of the month. By the time the next party rolls around, it’ll be a different girl.”

Lips pressing together, Parker nudged them downwards at the information, acknowledging it with a thoughtful hum. But when her eyes flickered back to the sight across the room, all the way on the other side, she felt the faintest twists in her stomach as she watched Calum’s finger graze up and down Violet’s arm, still speaking into her ear as if he was sharing a deep secret. They looked comfortably lost in their own bubble, no acknowledgment to the party around them as her right hand reached up to touch the side of his face as his lips remained by her ear.

Parker blamed the fact that the guy was so ridiculously attractive, because there was no other justifiable reason as to why she recognized that twist in her stomach as jealousy.

She felt her heart stop as Calum pulled away from Violet and, through the people moving between them, his dark eyes met her blue. Their gazes locked, and Parker felt the breath catch in her throat as he leaned back where he sat, Violet occupied by talking to some girl, and Calum’s attention seemingly focused on Parker.

She tried to look away, to tune into whatever conversation Roslyn and Ashton were having with Sage and Xavier, but she felt herself freeze in place, like Calum’s dark eyed gaze was rendering her unable to move. The music was pounding in her ears, her focused attention on Calum making everything sound muffled, like cotton was stuffed in her ears, fighting to take a breath as she watched Calum raise his cup and take a sip of his drink—all the while staring at her over the rim.

Parker didn’t know him well enough, and it was driving her crazy that she couldn’t tell what he was thinking as he looked at her. Was he even thinking of her, or were his thoughts occupied by something else while his eyes decided to settle on something mundane in the meantime? It was unnerving, her body’s reaction to just his gaze, akin to what she had felt the night before when he just stared at her. Silent and observing and intense. And as he lowered the cup, lips parted ever so slightly as his jaw worked, still fucking looking, Parker forced herself to look away. To sip on her margarita and join in on the conversation going on right next to her. Anything to distract herself from the weighted stare of a man sitting across the room.

There was a party going on around her. That should be enough of a distraction.  

So Parker drank and danced with her friends and housemates, meeting their friends and new people—including Michael, the guy who used to live at The Viridian and whose old room was now Parker’s, and his girlfriend Crystal, both of whom were sweet and friendly and down to take shots whenever anyone suggested them.

“Viridian fam! Gather ’round!” Roslyn’s voice shouted over the music at some point during the night, her loud voice clear and effective as while everyone else at the party did their own thing, the current residence of The Viridian gravitated towards her in the kitchen. Parker stood between Carina and Luke, just slightly tipsy, as she saw Calum approach leisurely, standing opposite of her as they all looked at Roslyn. Parker tore her gaze away from the dark haired man, looking at the dark haired girl, who was balancing a tray of shots despite not being completely sober. Some club remix was playing through the loft, screwing with Parker’s ears, as she watched Roslyn grin. “Alright! We’re gonna toast to the newest member of our lil’ family here, to welcome Parker to The Viridian. Grab a shot!”

Both Ashton and Luke let out boyish whoops, and Parker felt her face flush slightly at the unnecessary but sweet gesture as she grabbed one of the shot glasses, filled to the brim with some kind of vodka she knew would burn her throat. Everybody was all smiles, grabbing a glass and standing in a circle, and Parker’s gaze happened to flicker towards Calum once more as his ring clad fingers grabbed a glass.

Unlike everyone else, he wasn’t wearing much of a smile, and Parker’s analyzing mind couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with her—something personal that Calum held against her. He stood tall, in an all black ensemble complete with a leather jacket on top—she didn’t understand how he could wear that, since her entire body felt flushed with heat—but he just looked so good. And unlike when she first met him getting out of the pool, his dark hair was set perfectly atop his head in curls that brushed along his forehead, and not for the first time that night did Parker feel the desire to run her fingers through them.

He stood there, effortlessly stunning, his mere presence capable of catching everyone’s attention. It had been difficult, trying to avoid him throughout the night, seeing as he demanded to be noticed and everywhere Parker looked her eyes seemed to find him. And sometimes, she’d catch him staring back, face clean of any type of expression that would give away his thoughts, that only left Parker tightly frustrated. His lack of reactions only made her feel as though he didn’t want her there. And while the thought was discomforting—she didn’t even know why she cared what he thought—she tried not to let it get to her. Too much.

Even as everyone raised their glasses in the middle to cheers, Calum didn’t even bother with a smile, looking perfectly stoic. And even when everyone exclaimed, “To Parker!” Calum’s lips barely moved, his eyes remaining on the glasses as a way of making sure his gaze didn’t wander. His mouth was pressed together, jaw tight and the muscles moving, with eyes looking void of any emotion that she couldn’t help but think was too intense of a non-reaction than the situation called for.

Parker tried not to let it get to her. Tried not to feel too affected to some guy’s indifference towards her because it didn’t matter—no matter how confusing and annoying and nagging it was. Instead, she clinked her glass with an appreciative smile on her face for everyone else around her, swallowed down the vodka that burned her throat, and tried to have a good time.

Even if one of her housemates was making it painfully obvious she wasn’t entirely welcomed.

                                                           *****

Calum rinsed out his mouth, spitting out the water after brushing his teeth as he stood straight in front of the mirror, eyes on his reflection. His cheeks were ever so slightly flushed from the hot shower he took, dark strands messily sitting on his head as he reached up to fix them as best as he could. One of the showers behind him was still running, though the sound was almost calming, being the only thing he could hear in the quiet of The Viridian. Almost everyone was already out for the day, Calum was sure, save for whoever was in the shower. No matter how long he lived here, he never made it a point to converse with anyone while in the shower or toilet—some moments were just meant to be private.

But then the shower cut off as Calum rubbed his hand down his face, scratching at his stubbly chin as he considered shaving. However, his thoughts only last a second, because the shower curtain right behind him slid open, the rings on the rod zinging in the quiet of the bathroom, and Calum felt his heart stop before feeling it drop to the pit of his stomach when he caught sight of the woman in the reflection.

Throat drying, Calum remained perfectly rigid where he stood, watching as Parker froze with one arm still holding the curtain when her eyes landed on the only other person in the room. The blue of her eyes was bright under the lights of the bathroom, blonde hair appearing darker as the wet strands fell just a little bit past her shoulders, and Calum felt an unknown lurch in his chest when he took in the freckles that decorated her prettily flushed face. So many all over, and he didn’t understand where the sudden urge to take his time and count every single one of them came from.

Parker stood there, just in a peach colored towel wrapped around her, showing off the milky, freckled skin of her collarbones and neck, just as unmoving as Calum was, yet the overhead light still glinted against the thin silver nose ring she had pierced. But she could notice the way his dark eyes trailed the length of her figure just through the reflection, noticed the clench of his jaw as he did so, and Parker felt her cheeks flush even more than they already were from her hot shower. Not because she was shy about a guy so openly checking her out—but because she was pretty sure her and Calum were at some type of odds yet the look in his eye said the opposite.

Swallowing the dryness from her throat, Parker approached the sink to Calum’s left, two already in between them as she grabbed the bottle of lotion she had kept there before hopping into the shower. She kept her gaze from drifting over to him, standing in front of the mirror with pursed lips and hyper aware of the man to her right as she rubbed the floral scented lotion on her arms. It was difficult to ignore him; not when he stood tall with straightened shoulders and tattoos inking his golden skin while the only thing both of them were wearing were towels.

But above all else, what was bothering Parker the most was his attitude towards her. She hadn’t been able to shake away the image of him looking at her during the party, like he didn’t want to welcome her the way everyone else living here did, and it kind of stung. Parker didn’t care if people didn’t like her—as a surgeon, she implemented the belief that as long as she saved a life, she didn’t care too much for the patient’s opinion of her—but most people did return a smile when she offered one. Most people didn’t just seemingly dislike her for no reason. And that’s exactly what Calum, in her opinion, was doing.

“What’s your problem with me?” Clearly, she didn’t care much for having a filter in this moment, turning to face Calum as she crossed her arms over her chest, mindful of the towel tightly wrapped around her. Calum merely glanced at her from his peripheral, not even a proper look. Parker’s jaw tightened briefly, eyebrows drawing together. “I barely know you and have rarely seen you in the two days I’ve been here, but whenever I do, you look like I’m some kind of intruder here. What’s the issue?”

She had a bit of a habit of being straightforward and blunt. Right now, though, Parker wasn’t entirely sure if that was a trait she was proud of.

The muscle in Calum’s strong jaw worked as he looked down to put on a silver bracelet on his left wrist before picking up a necklace resting on the sink and putting it around his neck without needing to unclasp it. “The issue here, sweetheart,” Calum spoke up, clear and condescending as he finally turned to face Parker, unimpressed and bored. “Is that you basically are an intruder. Everyone can welcome you with open arms and say you’re part of the family, but just because you occupy a room, doesn’t mean you are. You’ve got to earn your place.”

His words brought a frown to Parker’s face, insulted and hurt. She understood the people who already lived here being close, they obviously knew each other a lot longer, but it wasn’t like Parker arrived with the motive of trying to break into their group. All she wanted was a place to live, that’s it. They were a tight knit group, she got that, but Calum’s indifferent hostility didn’t seem warranted in Parker’s eyes.

“Earn it?” she repeated, letting her own irritation seep into the mild disbelief in her voice, scoffing as she raised an eyebrow. She almost laughed. She couldn’t help but think how ridiculous and juvenile this was. It wasn’t even that serious if everyone else who lived at The Viridian had given her a warm and friendly welcome—it was just Calum who had a problem. And she didn’t see why. The mocking tone slipped into her voice as she gave a tilt of her head. “Would you like me to complete some kind of rite of passage?”

Something changed in Calum’s dark eyes, just then. She saw it in the way he narrowed them ever so slightly at her, his tense posture relaxing ever so slightly as his chin lifted. And just like that, the air in the room shifted, a different kind of tension mixing in with the slight humidity as Parker felt a delicious kind of twist in her stomach as she kept her gaze fixed on Calum. On the way his tattoos were in bare view for her to admire, on his damp dark hair that he had tried to push back but left a few haphazard strands to do their own thing, and on the faint trail of hair going from his belly button and disappearing under the dark blue towel wrapped around him.

Parker’s skin suddenly felt hot, knowing that he was watching her exactly in the way she was watching him, eyes drinking in everything they could, and as smart as she was, she couldn’t figure out how quickly the air in the room changed.

Especially when Calum’s raspy, taunting voice hummed back, “That’s exactly what you need to do.”

Her heart jumped, his words stirring something right in the pit of her stomach as her throat worked, trying to quickly adjust herself to the heat in the room that no longer emitted from the hot showers they’d taken. “Which would be what?”

The suggestive tone Parker’s voice took wasn’t lost on either of them, only serving to add to the newfound tension in the room. Her words were accompanied by her taking a few steps towards Calum, slow yet purposeful and laced with intent. Her blue eyes never left Calum’s brown, and the intensity and fire she could see in them so clearly only fueled the desire running through her veins. It was dizzying how the aura around them changed, how the clench in Calum’s jaw went from seemingly being aggravated with her to something so much more animalistic. The same kind of pining that was incessantly drawing Parker closer and closer to him as the distance between them decreased.

He gazed down at her, dark eyes eating her up as his figure loomed over her. It was just them, right here, right now. And neither were ready to walk out of the room without getting what they both suddenly, so intensely, wanted.

Calum’s lips quirked in the subtlest of smirks, gaze flickering to her mouth suggestively. “Surprise me.”

Oh, she didn’t even hesitate.

Her lips met his heatedly, pouring every bit of intensity her body was tight with yet it still didn’t ease as Calum instantly kissed her back, their lips moving together frantically, desperately. Parker’s hands found Calum’s face, pulling him into her as the sharp lines of his jaw pressed into her palms and his hands tightly gripped her hips through the obstructive material of the towel, chests pressed together as Calum didn’t hesitate in slightly biting down on her lower lip. He drew a quiet moan out of her, just like he wanted, using it to his advantage to allow his tongue to deepen the kiss.

Hearts were beating wildly within chests to keep up with the fiery desire they kissed and grabbed at each other with, and Calum could already feel his head spinning in the best of ways at the floral scent of Parker’s lotion washing over him. They weren’t close enough, his lust driven mind decided, and knowing the layout of the bathroom like the back of his hand, Calum used his grip on Parker’s hips to walk her backwards. She easily complied, trusting him to guide her, gasping slightly when the towel around her body was roughly pulled away and her exposed back was being pressed against the cool tiles of the shower wall, bare chest against Calum’s own warm one.

She gasped against his mouth, arching her back off the wall slightly as she quietly hissed, “Too cold.”

Calum chuckled against her, the sound low and throaty, though he kissed her fervently, one hand leaving her now bare hips and Parker heard the zing of the shower curtain closing. And then, a moment later, the beginning hiss of the shower before pleasantly hot water cascaded down on them, a surprised breath hitching Parker’s throat as she was, once again, under the shower. A soft moan muffled against Calum’s lips as his fingers dug into her skin, their bodies impossibly close, feeling the lack of his own towel against her as the hot water instantly, gloriously, warmed her up more than she already was. Parker’s hands greedily ran across his body; up his arms and sides and back, feeling his smooth wet skin against hers as the soft yet greedy touch of his lips on hers left her dizzy.

The spray of the shower drowned out the sounds of their gasps and groans, Calum’s lips leaving Parker’s as he trailed hot kisses down her jaw, her eyes remaining closed at the sensation of his stubble scratching at her skin. She preferred the burn of that over the burn of the water as Calum’s lips worked on her neck, feeling his smirk on her skin when he felt her racing pulse under his mouth.

When his lips found hers once again, the water heating up their bodies, Calum brushed his lips over her kiss swollen ones, right hand teasingly sliding up the inside of her left thigh and slowly getting close to where Parker needed him desperately. “Your heart racin’ for me, doll?” Calum whispered, lips brushing against hers with each word, watching her with hooded eyes as she leaned her head back against the tiled wall.

Parker’s blue eyes, dark with desire for him, remained on Calum’s lips, chest moving steadily, quickly, at each drag of his fingers towards her anticipating entrance, other hand gripping her hip and keeping her against the wall. The rasp in his voice twisted Parker’s stomach, gaze flickering up only slightly to see the way his dark hair stuck to his forehead under the water, noticing droplets run down the curve of his sharp jaw and glitter against his supple lips.

She was reminded, in that moment, of the first night she saw Calum, getting out of the pool and soaked to the bone. In front of her right now, just as soaked, but completely naked and bare, had electricity sparking in her veins once more, had her fighting for air because of how ridiculously gorgeous she was. So Parker raised her right hand, index and middle fingers wrapping around the necklace he wore before using her grip on the chain to pull him even closer than he was.

Lips curling into a smirk, Parker murmured, “My heart’s racing because it’s not pumping enough blood.” Her words were quick to register in Calum’s head, his previous expression melting into one of understanding amusement, the mirth dancing in his eyes as he let out a scoff through his own smirk. Parker’s nose brushed against his, unable to keep her smirk from transforming into a grin, the surgeon in her jumping out just to tease. “Tachycardia is no joke.”

Calum’s chest sank with the heavy, amused breath he let out, giving a shake of his head as he breathed, “Shut up, doc,” before silencing her mouth with his.

All jokes flew out of Parker’s head as his tongue met hers, moaning into Calum and nails digging into his shoulders when his finger slid inside her without warning. Calum groaned against her, whether it was because of the way her nails were marking his skin or feeling her around his digit, Parker didn’t know, her heart stuttering when added another one while continuing his motions. The drag of his fingers was enough to curl Parker’s toes, breath shallowing as she was hyper aware of only Calum; the minty taste of him, his wet skin against hers, long fingers intimately grazing her to entice her closer to the edge.

“Not yet, doll,” Calum muttered against her lips, minutes later, when he could just feel Parker beginning to lose any sense of control. He enjoyed the complaining whine that left her as she felt him remove his fingers, breath stuttering as she watched him lick them clean and taste her mixed in with the water. The sight was sinful, with his tongue making an appearance between plump lips and eyes never leaving hers as he enjoyed the taste of her, and Parker’s desperate breathing was replaced by a choked gasp when his fingers swiftly grabbed the back of her thighs to lift her, the excited not in her stomach never ceasing. His movements were quick yet careful, not wanting to slip under the spray of water, as Calum wrapped Parker’s legs around his hips and moved her so her back was against the back corner of the shower. His eyes met hers just then, questioning as he tried to restrain himself long enough to breathlessly ask, “Can I—”

Parker’s hands gripped his biceps, finally being able to feel the muscles under her touch as she responded, breath just as stolen as Calum’s, “On the pill.” She let out a blissed out laugh, the sound easing Calum’s heart more than he cared to admit as she added, “I’m a doctor. I’m prepared. Please.”

She was driving him crazy in the best way.

They were still under the water, slightly so, as the sounds of their satisfied groans mixed in together sinfully when Calum eagerly slid in. Parker’s eyes squeezed shut, head tilted back as Calum admired the part of her pretty lips and the droplets of water running down the column of her throat and line of her jaw. He stilled, giving her a moment to adjust, to get used to the delicious stretch of his cock as he felt her left hand dig her nails into his shoulder. She felt good, so fucking good, and Calum could’ve collapsed from the aching need to move if she hadn’t finally let out a needy, breathy hiss of, “Please, fuck, do something.”

He needed to feel her lips again, mouth slanting over hers in a sloppy kiss as his hips snapped into hers, finally being able to fuck the frustration that burned him into her. The frustration of thinking about the softness of her lips and the blue of her eyes and the smoothness of her skin and how fucking good she must feel against, around, on him. And he was finally feeling it because he couldn’t fucking keep it together. Because he’d let himself give into the instant attraction he’d felt for Parker despite his decision of rejecting it, rejecting her, harshly.

Her teeth teasingly, greedily, bit into his lower lip and Calum could feel himself losing it. He was losing himself in her and for now, he let it happen.

Right hand still holding her up with the support of the wall behind her, Calum never ceased the movements of his hips, each drag of his cock between her walls throwing him further and further into the thought of Parker. And so his left hand grabbed her right, pulling it up above their heads, fingers lacing together, grips tight, as he held her arm up against the cold wall, feeling his bracelet slide a little lower on his wrist, and completely gave himself to her, just like she was doing with him. For now, he lost himself in her intoxicating kisses, in the sounds she made that were prettier than any song he’s ever heard, and in the way her skin deliciously burned against his that made him tighten his grip on her hand and made him frantically want more.

The aftermath was something he’d concern himself with later.

                                                    *****

“Hey!” Parker’s gaze wandered to the kitchen where Carina’s voice sounded, rounding the counter to get a better look at Parker, who just entered through the foyer. She noticed the green eyed girl was dressed in a cute baby blue colored bathing suit, in her hand a bag of Lays. “If you’re not too tired, everyone’s hanging out on the roof. You should join us. We’ve got drinks and snacks,” she added in a melodic tone as a way of enticing Parker, both girls letting out a few giggles at that.

A dip in the pool actually did sound like an amazing idea, the mere thought of the cool water on her overworked body seeming heavenly. Her shift had been long, though Parker had managed to sneak in a nap in one of the on call rooms between surgeries after making sure her interns were on top of things, so she wasn’t that tired to crash into bed. Besides, the sun was high up in the sky and it was warm out, perfect for a swim that she couldn’t pass up.

“I’ll be up in a few,” Parker smiled at Carina, who let out a cute “yay!” before running up the stairs to head back out. Entering her room, Parker put away her things and used the bathroom before changing into a bathing suit of her own, throwing a cover up over the black bikini before going up the stairs. The closer she got to the top, the clearer she could hear music playing, mixed in with the sounds of everyone talking.

Stepping onto the roof, Parker grinned when she heard a chorus of greetings, waving back at her housemates who were either lounging on chairs or the ledge of the roof or in the pool. Settling herself on the edge of the pool after kicking her slippers off, Parker dipped her feet into the cool water as Ashton, who stood by a makeshift bar, called out to her, “Do you want a margarita, Parker?”

She looked at him over her shoulder, grinning, “How can I ever say no to that?”

He giggled in response, a sound Parker didn’t think she’d ever get tired off, as she moved her feet around in the water. The sun felt nice on her skin, the music playing through a speaker drowning out the sounds of L.A. traffic from below as Parker watched Michael, his girlfriend Crystal, Roslyn and Luke play a round of volleyball with an inflatable ball in the pool. However, as she watched, Parker’s gaze wandered across the pool, right to the glass walled bedroom that was currently hidden from view because of the drawn curtains.

Calum’s absence was something Parker noticed almost immediately upon stepping out onto the roof, missing amongst her housemates. It was unnerving how, after that morning in the bathroom, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking about him. Only three days had passed, but Parker’s body was physically yearning for his touch once more. Aching to feel his lips against hers, on her skin, to taste him and feel the muscles of his body press against hers deliciously. His touch had burned into her, leaving imprints of where he’d been, of where she wanted him again.

Parker could barely focus, as if all she could think of was feeling him again. So instead she distracted herself with surgeries because in the O.R., the only thing she focused on was the patient. Nothing else. Especially not Calum Hood.

She’d only told Sage about what happened, about how she and Calum somehow lost every sense of control and could only think of losing themselves in each other. Her best friend had been proud of her antics even though Parker said it was only a one time thing. Sage very much doubted that, which only served to fluster Parker. She had no idea what Calum’s mindset was; spending most of her time at the hospital provided Parker some distance from Calum, though she wasn’t too sure if she was grateful for that or not. She yearned for his touch and it was unsettling how much of an effect he had on her after just one time.

He was mesmerizing, addictive. Parker had gotten a taste and she craved for more; she missed the softness of his lips and scratch of his scruff and the delicious way he fit into her so perfectly. How was she expected to just not want more?

Tearing her gaze from Calum’s room with a deep breath, Parker smiled at Ashton as he walked over to where she was sitting and handed her the glass of margarita. The cold drink felt good as she listened to everyone around her chattering and watched the volleyball game in front of her. The bittersweet taste wonderfully tickled her throat, lightly kicking her feet in the water as the game ended and cheers erupted from Luke and Roslyn over their victory.

“You feel good, champ?” Parker grinned at Luke, who pushed himself out of the pool to sit on the edge next to her.

He laughed, dimples appearing as his body glistened and dripped with water. Pushing the blonde hair away from his face, Luke answered with a puffed chest, “Hell yeah. I’m the king of volleyball, you know.”

Michael, who’d heard Luke’s statement, scoffed loudly from where he still was in the pool. “Winning one game doesn’t make you the king!” he exclaimed through a bemused laugh, not even hesitating to call Luke out on his bullshit.

Luke kicked a leg out in hopes of splashing Michael, though the green eyed man was too far away by the other end of the pool as Parker snickered at the childish antics. She engaged in a conversation with the blonde then as he asked about her job and she told him about the last tie she was in charge of running the E.R., which he thought was pretty awesome. Which it was—but also intense and exhausting, especially if it was overrun with patients who needed immediate assistance.

It was easy talking to Luke; he was all smiles and bright eyes, and Parker mentally made it a point to talk to him and her other housemates more. Being a senior surgical resident kept her busy, spending most of her time at the hospital, and while she’d moved into the Viridian a week ago, there was still room for her to get to know the people she was living with more.

Just as her thoughts began trickling into the dangerous territory of reminding her of just how well she’d gotten to know a certain roommate a few days ago—as if she could ever forget—Parker noticed the door on the other side of the pool open and out stepped a familiar leggy dark blonde. An uncomfortable twist in the pit of Parker’s stomach hitched her throat at Violet’s lazy smile and marked up neck and bikini clad body, looking far too satisfied, looking just like Parker probably had the other day for the same delirious reason.

But the discomfort in her stomach didn’t compare to the breathtaking dread that clogged Parker’s throat when Calum walked out behind her, fingers running through unruly curly hair as the sun rays reflected against his skin in a heavenly glow, only dressed in swimming trunks as his necklaces rested against his chest. He nodded in greeting once, directed at everyone, bare feet padding on the ground as his dark eyes took in who all was there. Parker’s grasp on her glass tightened when his brown eyes met her blue, his already leisure pace slowing down just a fraction, so subtle, when their gazes locked.

Parker’s throat worked, deaf to the world like there was cotton in her ears, noticing how, even from this distance, Calum’s jaw worked. His expression was unreadable, blank, as he continued walking and broke their gaze, not even a polite smile as he followed Violet to the makeshift bar where Ashton was.

But then Calum walked past where she and Luke sat, his gaze sliding over her head as some of the blankness from his face erased, softening into one of casualness as he lifted his chin in a quick nod to Luke. The action was accompanied by a greeting, “Hey, man.”

Luke returned the greeting, and Parker watched as Calum’s gaze went from his friend before shifting ahead once more as he continued his pace. And she was left, staring after him in indignant surprise, because he wasn’t even going to acknowledge her? Just stare from a distance and then if he was near her, she ceased to exist? Parker had never been treated so rudely before, no ounce of respect thrown her way, and she hated that it hurt. Hated that it stung that she wasn’t given something she was desperately seeking against her better judgement.

She hated that she felt a suffocating weight settle on her twisting stomach at his reaction—or, as usual, lack thereof. Calum kept going, as if nothing had changed between them since she moved to the Viridian, as if he hadn’t had her pressed against the wall with lips muffling her moans as he drove himself deeper and deeper into her just a few days ago. With a tight throat, Parker forced herself to drink her beverage, fighting the urge to turn and follow Calum’s movements to the bar behind her, not wanting to appear as some kind of longing, kicked puppy.

The fact that his ignorance of her even stung bothered Parker. Perhaps she was justified—she would at least acknowledge the existence of someone she’d slept with, especially if they were living together. But then again, maybe she should’ve known better. There had already been some kind of tension existing between her and Calum—sleeping with him probably wasn’t the best and most effective of solutions. But it just happened. That’s all Parker could say to somehow justify it, if possible. What happened between her and Calum had just happened and it left her dizzy and wanting more—despite the fact that he continued to look at her the same way he had since she moved to the building.

“Kinda cold.”

Blinking back into reality, Parker turned her head to look at Luke, who’d been following Calum with his eyes before he looked down at Parker with an almost apologetic raise of his eyebrows. Parker blinked, her own eyebrows drawing together at that, realization coming slow yet not entirely sure if he meant what she was thinking. Hoping it wasn’t. “What?”

Luke ticked his head to where Calum was, eyes flickering to the brunette before looking back at Parker. “Him ignoring you like that after what happened. Not cool.”

Raising her eyebrow, for a second Parker considered Luke was maybe talking about something completely different, but she knew there wasn’t anything else. Honestly—she didn’t care who knew, although she didn’t want it to be made into a big deal. She had just moved into the Viridian and the last thing she wanted everyone to talk about was how she already hooked up with one of the guys. Knowing about it was one thing, but gossiping about it was completely different.

Luke didn’t look like he was judging her or anything, didn’t really look like he was viewing her in a different light. But that’s not what stuck to Parker—it was how he knew. She surely hadn’t said anything, and she knew no one else was in the loft when she and Calum hooked up, so there really was only one explanation.

Parker’s eyebrows shot up as she quickly put two and two together, glancing around briefly before leaning into Luke, her voice a quiet murmur as she asked in surprise, “He told you?”

He shrugged his broad shoulders while taking a sip of his beer, throat working as he swallowed and licked his lips before looking back at Parker, who was gazing up at him in taken aback confusion. For some reason, she didn’t think Calum would bring it up to anyone, unsure why she would think he’d keep quiet about it. Although, maybe it was because of just how much of a silent person he was. How he seemed to keep to himself—at least when Parker was around.

But they weren’t friends. And Parker didn’t really know him.   

“He may have mentioned it,” Luke admitted with a nod, leaning back on his hands as his blue eyes remained on hers. When Parker’s eyes remained raised, nodding her head as if to get more out of him, Luke smiled apologetically. “That’s all he said, honestly. I would think he’d be more of a gentleman and not do it in the bathroom but I guess raging hormones were too powerful.”

Parker’s face flushed at this, pursing her lips together and hoping to suppress the flustered smile that threatened to tug at the corners. Part of her hoped that that’s all Calum said; that they hooked up, and that’s it. Maybe then it would justify why he’s just ignoring her at this moment. Even though Parker hated that she was even bothered in the first place that he was pretending as if it never happened. It was, annoyingly enough, kind of embarrassing.

Not to mention confusing. Utterly bewildering. She wasn’t even sure what to feel, what she was justified to feel. It had been a one time thing. And no matter how badly she wished for it to happen again, Parker would have to come to terms with the possible fact that Calum didn’t want the same thing. Not when he had Violet.

“It’s whatever,” Parker shrugged with a shake of her head, in that moment wanting to forget about everything. Her feelings were hurt, she understood, but it was her own fault for even having that seed of wonder of something more happening. They’d fucked, once, in the bathroom in a mess of breathless gasps and clinging fingers. Why would there be more after that? She offered a close mouthed smile to Luke, one she wouldn’t even believe if she saw, but Parker didn’t care enough to make it seem real. Or maybe she cared too much. She wasn’t sure. “Just a one time thing, honestly.”

Luke looked at her, blue eyes bright under the sun, a softness taking over his features that made him appear almost angelic. In a quiet voice, he asked, “Then why do you sound so disappointed?”

Parker pursed her lips, the smile diminishing as her gaze flickered past Luke and right to where Calum was. She didn’t understand why she felt so attached after a single fling, why it had to be Calum of all people she somehow couldn’t find herself moving past. She was a surgeon, for fuck’s sake; moving forward was what she was trained to do. But Parker’s eyes were on Calum, sitting at the end of a beach chair, legs spread so Violet could sit in between. The familiar twist tightened Parker’s stomach, watching as Violet’s hair was over her right shoulder and Calum, with one hand nursing a beer, mouthed at her neck as she leaned back into him with a lazy smile returning to her face.

It wasn’t normal, was it, to feel the burn of jealousy in her veins at the sight of a guy who she didn’t even think liked her, a guy who she hooked up with once, put his lips on the skin of someone that wasn’t her? It wasn’t normal to feel the yearning tightness in her chest at the desire of wanting him maybe once more, twice more? Why the hell was she so stuck on him?

Maybe because he was so outrageously handsome. Or that his lips were made for kissing. Or that the sex had been so mind blowingly fantastic that Parker had dreams about it, about the words he’d said and the sounds he made. Or that he was just so frustratingly intriguing that Parker couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Or maybe she was just an idiot of a masochist for feeling herself start to fall for someone she slept with once, who’d been an ass to her even after the fact, and she was doing nothing to stop it.

Suddenly dark brown eyes locked with Parker’s blue, and she felt the breath in her throat hitch sharply and a shiver from the cool water race up her spine at his blank, handsome face. She watched as Calum took a sip of his beer, eyes never leaving hers in the distance, watched as the ever so light breeze made the few curls across his forehead partake in a gentle dance. And then she watched, with blood frozen in her veins and a lump forming in her throat, the sight bothering Parker so much more than it should, as Calum slid one tattooed arm around Violet’s bare waist and pulled her even closer to him purposefully. His purposeful, daring eyes never left Parker’s.

Oh, wow. He was an asshole.

How he could go from being so attentive and giving like he had been in the bathroom and switching to an intentionally indifferent jerk was beyond Parker.

She looked at Luke, a soft scoff escaping her nose as a self deprecating smile tugged at her lips, lifting her near empty glass while answering his question with a defeated, “I have no fucking idea.”

                                                  *****

He kept looking towards the door. Or, at least, tried to since the view of it was a bit obscured from where he sat in the V.I.P. section of the club, booked by Carina’s parents in honor of her twenty-fifth birthday. He sat in the middle of the red half circle couch, left arm spread on the top while his right hand gripped his third glass of whiskey, holding it on his knee as he tried to look at the faces entering the club through the crowds of people and colorful flashes of light.

It was frustrating, how the moment he stepped into the club, Calum’s dark eyes were searching for Parker, hoping to catch sight of her eyes blues through the pleasant lighting of the club, grateful that it wasn’t too dark. The music was pounding in his ears and his chest, but Calum was too focused on trying to sense Parker’s presence to even acknowledge what song was playing that his friends were dancing and singing along to. So he just sat, feeling the alcohol course through his system and the warmth of the club stick to his skin, all the while waiting for Parker’s arrival.

“You’ve been sitting since we got here.” Violet’s pouting voice reluctantly dragged Calum out of his thoughts, forcing his gaze to break from the door to look at the girl sitting to his right. She wasn’t technically invited to Carina’s party, the birthday girl choosing only to bring close friends including her housemates, but Violet was there as Calum’s plus one. And for the first time, he was regretting her company. His eyes didn’t even take in the skin she was showing in her short tight dress which showed off her long legs and hugged her chest. Feelings for Violet never existed in Calum’s heart, but even so, the last thing on his mind was taking her home with him. That was different and unnerving. She gripped his arm, giving it a squeeze as she leaned into him and offered a smile. “Come on—let’s dance.”

He remained seated, teeth pressing together as his gaze dropped to Violet’s hand sliding down his arm towards his hand. Calum’s grip on the glass tightened as her fingers neared his wrist, knowing that she could feel his muscles tensing under touch. His breath was held in his lungs, almost painfully so, and it wasn’t until Violet’s fingers almost reached his around the glass did Calum force himself to his feet. The sudden action startled Violet, looking up at him with raised eyebrows, as Calum downed the rest of his beverage.

“I need another drink,” he excused gruffly, briefly wondering if his words were drowned out by the music, though not caring as he began walking to the bar on the other side of the dance floor. Calum didn’t even pause to hear what Violet said in response, taking a breath as he shouldered through people with pursed lips and a tense back.

He was basically running away from Violet and it was all because of Parker. Because for the past week, he couldn’t seem to get the blonde out of his mind, couldn’t seem to satiate the animalistic desire of wanting to press his skin against hers in any way. Violet was just a crutch, a familiar warm body in place of the one he’d been able to have once. Calum had thought maybe, if he eased whatever the fuck he felt for Parker just once, then it would be fine. That he’d be able to have a taste and that would be it.

The last thing he expected was to crave her even more.

Being unable to see Parker around the Viridian so much was both a blessing and a curse; whatever he felt for her seemed to calm when her presence wasn’t nearby, but as soon as she walked into view, it was like Calum couldn’t breathe because of the distance between them. The need to be near her, to hold her again and feel her lips on his was almost maddening, and it was fucking terrifying. Such an intense desire, need, yearning for someone had never been something Calum experienced before.

It was dizzying and perplexing and left Calum laying in bed staring at the grey ceiling of his bedroom at night, wondering just how Parker managed to get such an overwhelming grasp on his thoughts. How one moment—one tantalizing, blissful moment—had taken over Calum’s mind without warning. Work and sleeping with Violet didn’t do much to distract him, nothing did. And it was so damn frustrating.

He’d see her around the loft and he’d just. . . Lose his breath. It had happened right on the first night, right when he met her after getting out of the pool. Calum remembered the image perfectly, with Parker standing on the roof with a glass of wine in hand and blonde hair dancing in the light breeze, blue eyes bright just like the city lights around them. Part of him had hoped, in that moment, that she was some girl Luke had brought home and she’d just found her way to the roof. Because then, maybe, Calum wouldn’t feel the instant, snapping attraction that hit him so hard that he felt as though he was drowning in the very pool he’d just gotten out of.

Was that even possible? To take one look at someone and want them in that same moment?

With someone as beautiful as Parker, Calum didn’t doubt it.

Right hand splayed on the bar top, Calum waited for the bartender to give him his drink as he turned sideways, body involuntarily facing the door as his left hand ran through his dark curls, a heavy breath escaping him. He tugged at the curls at the back of his head, eyes washing over the faces all around him as they blurred together while hoping to find the one he’d been searching for.

What was he even supposed to do if he found it?

Mumbling a thanks to the bartender, Calum’s hand wrapped around the glass right when his eyes landed on exactly what he’d been looking for. He paused, the glass midway to his mouth, as he watched with a still heart Parker enter the club. Feeling his breath hitch in his throat, Calum’s eyes tracked her through the crowd, greedily drinking in the sight of the white crop top and leather skirt she wore, blonde hair tied up as her blue eyes searched for familiar faces in the busy club. Even from a distance, Calum’s throat dried at how gorgeous she looked, at the glow of her creamy skin against the lights, wanting to feel it under his fingers and lips.

Then those blue eyes met his brown, and Calum remained perfectly still. He watched the subtle raise of her shoulders as she took in a breath while looking at him, lips parting ever so slightly. Was she going to walk over? Did he want her to?

Why the hell did she confuse the shit out of him?

Parker walked from around one of the raised platforms where a couple of people were dancing and Calum watched as she headed in the opposite direction of where he stood. He knew he had no reason to be disappointed, that he’d been acting like a complete asshole to her and so why would she approach him? Yet still he felt his grip on the glass tighten, watching her go and feeling a discomforting twist in his stomach as she walked away from him. It was his own doing, Calum was aware, and not for the first time did Calum want to punch himself for it.

That desire got stronger throughout the night as Parker kept her distance from Calum, only staying with everyone else but him as she danced and drank and enjoyed her night without him. And all he could do was sit by and watch, letting the alcohol mix in with his blood while he stewed in a pit of irritation and jealousy because she was laughing and smiling with everyone else and it was his fault that she wasn’t doing that with him.

Calum found home against a support beam, using it to keep him upright as he sipped a beer in place of the liquor he’d been drinking throughout the night. He felt warm thanks to his drinks, head feeling heavy and eyes slightly hooded as he watched Parker like he had been throughout the night. It was creepy, he figured, to keep his eyes on her so intensely, but he couldn’t fucking help himself. But she was right in front of him, her hands holding Roslyn’s as the two girls danced together, hips moving to the beat of the music and a happy smile on her face. So easily gorgeous, and Calum probably fucked it up royally with her.

“Stop staring and just talk to her.” Rolling his head to the side against the pillar, Calum caught sight of Luke leaning against it on the other side, blue eyes trained on who Calum was looking at. His blonde curls were wild, cheeks flushed as he too kept himself upright. There was a furrow between his brows as he continued drunkenly, almost drowsily, “It’s obvious you like her. Why’re you acting like such a douche, man? Pushing her away isn’t going to push away your feelings for her.”

Blowing out a soft raspberry, Calum leaned his head back, eyes lifting to look at his taller best friend. He could acutely feel the music drumming in his chest, lazily gripping his drink. “I hate when you become all insightful when you’re drunk.”

Luke rolled his eyes, twisting his lips to the side before retorting, “I hate when you try to ruin things for yourself because you’re scared of your own feelings.”

Jaw slacking, Calum let out a scoff before turning so he could lean against the pillar on his shoulder to properly look at Luke. He felt affronted at the blonde’s statement, despite the truth even his drunken mind could pick up on. Luke was right, because Calum did self sabotage, particularly when it came to relationships. Becoming close with someone was never something Calum was too good at, the fear of letting someone else have a piece of him, a big piece, preventing him from giving anyone any part of himself. And he was fine with that. Hell, he was good at it—a professional, basically.

Which is why whatever he felt for Parker—this mess of desire and want and just as emotional as it was physical—overwhelmed him with confusion because how could it happen? One minute he was fine and the next she was taking over him without even trying. That never happened before and he just. . . Didn’t know how to deal with it. Why was it so hard? Why did he make things difficult for himself? Why couldn’t he just allow for himself a shot at potential happiness without trying to ruin something before it even had a chance of starting?

Calum hadn’t even responded to Luke’s words before the blonde commented, “That must’ve been some good sex if she caught feelings for you after one time.” Then he hummed thoughtfully after taking a sip of his drink. “Or maybe she just really wants to fuck again.”

For a moment Calum felt his thoughts freeze at Luke’s words, eyes widening ever so slightly as he finally choked out, “I—Feelings? What feelings? She’s got feelings? Did she tell you that?”

He sounded uncharacteristically needy, desperate, as the words tumbled out of his mouth and it irked Calum but, shit, he didn’t care in this moment. All he could care about was Luke’s words, the insinuation of Parker having feelings for him even after the shitty way he’d treated her, of that small spark of hope that jump started his heart and had him pushing off the pillar to look at Luke with shot up eyebrows and widened eyes. Feelings. Did Parker have feelings? Still, after how he’d treated her? His heart was pounding and, shit, when did he become someone who cared so much for this?

“No,” Luke scoffed, amusement dancing in his eyes as he looked at Calum, lips curling at the frown that took over the brunette’s face. Offering a shrug, Luke continued, “But it’s obvious. And it’s obvious that you like her too. You’re always making these eyes at each other and I can never tell if it’s because you wanna declare your love or jump each other’s bones.”

Calum’s lips clamped shut, pouting drunkenly and defiantly as he glared at Luke. He did not appreciate the observation, making him feel as though he was being watched. Like his friend was watching him continuously act like an idiot because he couldn’t get his shit together. Because both he and Parker knew there was something there but Calum was an asshole who was pushing her away and she was too good to allow herself that kind of treatment, so she kept her distance. He didn’t blame her. He just was so pissed off at himself for it.

Eventually he found himself at the bar once more, though this time he managed to order himself a club freaking soda rather than indulging himself in more alcohol. The dizziness from the alcohol had him leaning his temple against the palm of his hand, arm propped by his elbow as he kept his eyes closed and let the music drum through his mind.

It was close to two in the morning and Calum was tired, wanted his bed and wanted the girl, but he remained on the stool at the bar. His friends were enjoying their night and he didn’t want to leave them. So he stayed. And he watched Parker dance. And maybe even stewed in a bit of self deprecation and hatred.

“Hi, can I get a margarita, please?”

Opening his eyes, Calum blinked against the flashing lights before his gaze settled on the girl that came up next to him. Calum’s back straightened, watching Parker lean forward on the bar, hands rhythmically tapping on the bartop as she waited for the bartender to get her drink. There was the ever slightest, thin layer of sweat sheening her skin and she looked like she was glowing against the lights, cheeks flushed and just a few of her freckles surfacing across the bridge of her nose and speckled some on her cheeks.

He remembered the way his lips trailed the sharp line of her jaw, wanting so badly to do so again as he rolled his lower lip into his mouth. Calum’s throat worked, eyes drinking in the sight of hers, and then her eyes met his. And then, to Calum’s surprise, instead of frowning or scoffing or turning away, Parker smiled.

A breathtaking, pretty smile that showed off white teeth as she turned her body to face his. “You look like you’re having the time of your life,” she commented, a giggle in her voice as she leaned on the bartop with her arm while her left hand rested on her hip.

Hiding the way he felt off guard at her starting a conversation, Calum swiveled in the stool to face her. She was only a couple of inches taller than him in her heels as he sat, blue eyes looking down at him. “Waitin’ to go home,” Calum answered truthfully, slowly. Her eyes were so pretty. With a small shrug and smile, he added, “Don’t wanna ruin anyone else’s fun.”

Parker raised an eyebrow, tilting her head as she gazed at him. “So you choose to make yourself miserable instead?”

Calum took a soft breath, looking her over as if it was the first time. Because she was so gorgeous and he wanted to get to know her. Yeah. He wanted to know her instead of jumping into bed with her again. He wanted to know her and then go from there. “I tend to do that a lot,” Calum responded, his speech slow thanks to the alcohol. Was it possible for the sight of someone else to sober him up? Parker took a breath at his words and Calum found himself asking, “What took you so long? Getting here?”

“I had surgery,” Parker answered with a hum. “And then had to take care of post-ops. Busy, busy, busy-bee,” she added with a happy grin, thanking the bartender for her drink before lifting it to take a sip through the straw.

“What was it?” Calum asked, genuinely curious as he blinked away some of the drunk fogginess. “How’d it go?”

Her smile widened and Calum tried not to focus on the way her body seemed to move closer to his, to notice the way her thighs pressed against his jean clad knees. “Colon ischemia,” she told him, nodding along to her own words. “Had to remove dead tissue in a dude’s colon. He’s in recovery now.”

A small smile tugged at Calum’s lips as he looked at her, catching the glint in her eyes as she went into some detail about the surgery, the alcohol in her system not inhibiting her from talking about it excitedly. And he listened over the sound of the music, took in the excitement she felt when she talked about something she loved and was good at. It unloaded something in his heart, the smile easing as he looked at the amazing, pretty girl. “You’re kind of a badass, aren’t you?” Calum admired, smiling, truthful.

There was a pinkness in her cheeks, probably matching whatever warmth he was feeling in his own at the sight of her. Fuck. She even made him blush.

And then she leaned in, hand gripping her drink and lips curling into a smirk. Even through the lights, Calum could pick out the freckles on her face under the makeup, could enjoy the glimmer in her eyes and whatever fruity scented perfume she was wearing. His heart was pounding in his ears, muffling the music, as his legs parted without thinking and she stepped in the space between them. Parker’s nose brushed against his and Calum breathed her in, shaky and unsure, wondering what the hell she was doing and knowing he wasn’t going to stop.

Her lips parted, pink and inviting, and she murmured, “I’m a superhero. And one of my superpowers is knowing you’re only talking to me because you’re drunk. Tomorrow, you’re gonna go right back to ignoring my existence, so I’m gonna walk away before you can hurt me more.”

Calum’s eyes widened ever so slightly, throat drying at Parker’s words that made his stomach lurch unpleasantly. He looked into her eyes, blue framed with long lashes, and Calum could make out the disappointment and hurt the supposed truth behind her words that weighed on her and he desperately wanted to get rid of it. Loathed that it was because of him it was even present in the first place.

So when Parker made a move to lean back and away from Calum, his hand found hers, fingers gripping her own as he held her in place, though his grip wasn’t tight. Just enough to keep her there but also so she could break away if she so desired. Parker paused, gaze dropping to their hands before looking back at Calum, questioning and reluctant. He could tell she was fighting her instinctive response of pulling away, lips pursing as she looked at him with a conflicting gaze. He hurt her with his behavior and Calum was still kicking himself for it. If she walked away right now, he wouldn’t blame her.

“I’m a piece o’ shit, I know.” Calum’s words were hasty, like he wanted to quickly get them out before she walked away but not lose any of the genuinity he meant his apology with. He stood to his feet, feeling just the slightest bit dizzy, as Parker’s eyes remained on his while she had to tilt her head back to maintain the gaze. Her throat worked as he towered over her, the minimal space between the stools on the bar forcing them to stand close together as the heat on their skin went from being caused by the buzzing club to their proximity. Looking down at her, Calum licked his lips, trying to put together the right, honest string of words while trying not to think too much about her hand in his. They’d held hands before, in the bathroom against the tiled walls of the shower, but it’d been different. “I’ve been actin’ like a dick and I’m sorry ’bout that, Parker.” The alcohol was making his words sound drowsy and slurred even to him, but Calum hoped the sincerity didn’t get lost. “’M not the best when it comes to dealin’ with certain things and I just—”

Parker pulled her hand from Calum’s, just as he had feared, stumbling ever so slightly as she took a step to her left and back from him. Her right hand gripped her glass, watching the defeat and disappointment that washed over Calum’s face against the light colored flashes of the club. The knot in his chest tightened at the loss of her skin against his, at the slight furrow in her eyebrow as she shook her head. “You’re apologizing because you’re drunk,” she decided after releasing a breath. “And maybe because you wanna fuck again and fill me with disappointment before you start ignoring me again.” Calum’s breath hitched at her words, eyes widening at the sting they snapped through his body as his body leaned back ever so slightly, as if she’d pushed him. Parker gave another shake of her head, eyebrows drawn together as she gave him a once over, a look filled with dismay and despondency. “Just—leave me alone, Calum.”

Then she was turning and walking away, disappearing into the crowd of people, and Calum was left with the aching desire of exchanging his fucking club soda with the harshest whiskey the bar had.

                                                           *****

“Fuck!”

Calum’s fingers instantly froze over the strings of the guitar, eyes widened in confusion flickering up to look at the glass paned wall of his bedroom, though his view to the outside world was obscured thanks to the curtains he’d drawn. For a moment, he wondered if he’d imagined the shout, fluttering unexpectedly through his mind as he enjoyed a quiet night with his guitar. And he’d have believed it, if it weren’t for the unmistakable sound of glass shattering that followed it—the sound that occured right outside of his room.

Getting up from his bed, Calum rested the guitar on the stand by the bedside table before approaching the glass wall, eyebrows drawn together as he strained his ears in hopes of hearing something else that would give him a clue as to what the hell was happening. Parting the curtain ever so slightly, Calum peeked a look outside, gaze darting around the empty roof under the night sky, wondering what it was that he had heard.

But then his eyes landed on the sight of Parker, hard to miss with her blonde hair, since that’s all Calum could see. Because she sat on the ground, back against the raised brick railing of the roof, forehead against her knees with her legs brought up to her chest. Under furrowed eyebrows Calum’s eyes narrowed as he tried to get a better look over the bright lights of the pool, back straightening and the creases in his forehead smoothening when he made out the shaking of Parker’s shoulders, of her body. Like she was crying.

He took a breath, pausing for just a moment as he considered what to do. But another look at Parker, at the way her entire body was trembling and how he had definitely heard something break just moments ago had him coming to a decision before he even let any other thought run through his mind.

Quietly, swiftly, he parted the curtains and opened the glass door of his room, stepping out with his slides on his feet as he cautiously made his way towards Parker. And over the hum of the cars in the city below, Calum could make out the broken, shaky sounds of Parker’s sobs, of her sniffles and choked breathing the closer he got to her seated figure. His heart twisted at the knowledge of her crying, walking around the pool to where she was, eyes catching the glint of glass and when he looked over, just a few feet away from where she sat, were different sized broken pieces of what he could make out as a wine glass. Or what was remaining of one, being able to figure it was that due to part of the handle that remained intact to a half broken base.

It was a bit chilly that night, the cool breeze raising goosebumps on Calum’s arms and legs, exposed to his T-shirt and athletic shorts as he hurried over to where the crying blonde was. “Parker,” Calum breathed, feeling something inside him crack at the clear sounds of her cries, crouching down to her right with his left hand against the brick wall and his right wanting to reach out to her, but unsure if he was allowed. Her hands were gripping knees, head bent and face out of his view, but visibly shaking. A bubble of panic started expanding in the pit of Calum’s stomach at the sight of her, unsure of what happened, unsure of what to do. “Parker, sweetheart, what’s wrong? What’s—” He shook his head, lost and wanting to help. “What’s happened?”

She kept crying. Kept sobbing into herself, either ignoring Calum or not even registering his presence. And that bubble of panic kept growing, a lump forming in his throat because the two of them hadn’t spoken in days but the absolute last thing Calum ever wanted was for Parker to be going through something so awful that she was crying like this. Crying like something terrible had happened. Crying like she’d lost some—

Oh. Shit. Calum hoped that wasn’t the case.

And then, a moment later, Parker’s thick, anguished voice finally said, “She was my first patient.” His heart stopped at her words, his fear being proven correct, as his eyebrows drew together in distress over her state and jaw clenched tightly. Parker lifted her head and despite the nighttime, Calum got a good look at her face, and he didn’t at all like what he saw. He didn’t like the redness of her nose or her eyes, the blue glazed behind pools of unshed tears as the rims of her eyes were lined red; raw and bruised from crying as hard as she was. The sight, undoubtedly, broke Calum’s heart, rendering him breathless from just how broken she looked, and how the only thing he wanted in this world right now was for her to not feel like this. The waves of her blonde hair framed her tear stricken face, lips trembling as her eyes met Calum’s worried brown. “One of my first days my intern year we—she needed an appy and I-I was given the first solo surgery to perform it. And she—she lived.”

The tears in her eyes and sobs in her throat had Parker stumbling over her words, voice scratchy and thick, having to pause to sniffle and catch her breath and Calum listened patiently. Listened with his lips pressed together and fighting the urge to pull her into his arms because she looked so heartbroken and he couldn’t stand it. And it was terrifying to him, how the sight of her was absolutely breaking his heart more than he ever thought possible, more than one would justify. But he couldn’t give a shit. She was hurting, and not for the first time, Calum wanted to make it better, whether it was his fault or not.

Parker blinked, looking away from Calum for a moment as she licked her lips, trying to get her thoughts together. “She—Joanna was my patient for three—” The last word came out breathless, like she ran out of whatever little air she had left, neck tensing as she regained her breathing, all the while looking out at the pool in front of her. “Three years and I was her doctor whenever she came in. One of her doctors but still. “I-I took out her appendix and—and treated her when she got in a car accident last year and helped deliver her baby yesterday and now she’s—she’s gone and we should’ve saved her. I should’ve saved her.”

She broke down. Completely, utterly crumpled in front of Calum’s eyes as the sobs that escaped her strengthened with the help of her heartbreak. Parker’s eyes clenched shut as more tears escaped, body shuddering with her cries and Calum instantly wrapped his left arm around her shoulders, pulling her in and letting her rest her head against his chest as his other hand buried itself in her hair.   

He could feel every cry of hers just as well as he could hear it, holding her close and shutting his own eyes as her grief washed over him. Not as severely as she felt it, but Parker going through it was enough for Calum to feel a suffocating tightness in his chest and strengthen his own hold on her. And her understood, selfishly for the first time, that Parker probably lost people in her line of career, that there were just some that died on her watch and she could do nothing about it except for grieve and then fight to never make the same mistake twice.

And holding her right now, in this period of heart wrenching mourning, Calum rested his chin atop her head, the faint scent of her fruity shampoo washing over him, and let her cry into his shirt. He felt her fist his shirt in her grasp, felt her clutch onto him desperately as she ached over the loss of someone important to him. And he hated that he couldn’t do anything to help except hold her to him.

“Parker, you—” Calum cut himself off, unsure of what to say, unsure of what were the right words because he didn’t know if there were any. He opened his eyes, taking a breath as he looked up at the dark cloudless sky with a few stars glittering across. “I’m sure you did everythin’ you could’ve—”

“I should’ve worked harder,” she whimpered, shaking her head before pulling away from him, red eyes and red nose and flushed cheeks that were all breaking Calum’s heart further. How she managed to get such a tight hold on him, he had no idea, but he didn’t question it. Not right now. Her hands pressed against his chest, putting some distance as she continued, “Should’ve looked at her tests and should’ve picked it up sooner—”

“Parker, Parker,” Calum cut her off, his voice raspy in his own desperation as his hands found her freckled, tear splattered cheeks. His thumbs wiped away what he could, feeling the softness of her cry-blotched face as he got her to look at him, his throat working at the redness of her face. Ignoring the tickles of his own curls across his forehead, Calum cleared his throat lightly as their faces neared, holding her close. “You did everythin’ you could’ve,” he repeated, stronger and surer this time. He couldn’t be sure, he knew, but he believed it. “You’re in pain and you’re grieving and it’s just making you blame yourself. Please, don’t. You just—you need rest, okay? This isn’t helpin’ you. Don’t do this to yourself, sweetheart, please.”

She’d been crying for hours, he knew—could tell from the state of her eyes and the hoarseness of her voice—and so he wanted her to just stop for now. Wanted her to be able to take a breath and close her eyes and be able to sleep despite the heaviness in her soul. Even if she disagreed, even if she began shaking her head as she understood his words and closed her eyes, trying to pull away, but he kept his hold. “Sleep, please, it’ll—”

“It won’t bring Joanna back,” her voice cracked, shoulders sinking as she sniffled.

“Neither will this,” Calum told her, swallowing the thickness in his own throat, keeping his dark eyes on her blue. “Neither will sittin’ out here making yourself sick over somethin’ like this.”

She was quiet for a few moments, the only sounds coming from the still awake city below and the occasional sniffles she was trying to get control over, glassy eyes looking out at the pool as she considered Calum’s words. He looked at her, patiently and worriedly, chewing on the inside of his lower lip. And then her gaze dropped, looking at the length of Calum’s tattooed arm since his hands were still on her cheeks and then she spoke up. Her voice was a whisper, almost lost in the night, but Calum heard it. “I don’t wanna sleep alone.”

Calum’s expression softened, understandment washing over his features as he took a quiet breath. When her blue eyes met his brown, Calum felt something in his heart clenched and he nodded without hesitation. Despite their distance in the past however long, Calum was keen on not leaving her side. Because he’d hurt her enough and wanted to make up for it, but he hated that it had to be this way.

“Come on,” he murmured, soft and reassuring as one arm went around her waist. “Up you go.”

The walk to his room was a quick one after Parker wiped at her face, the door clicking shut behind them as he hesitantly let her go to close the curtains, the room a bit dark to the lack of light save for the single lamp on his bedside. When Calum turned, he saw Parker, red eyed and nosed, looking around his room, taking in a part of him she hadn’t been privy to until this moment.

He watched her take in the two bookshelves full of books and vinyls, the record player right by it along with the guitar, the TV set up on a table opposite of the bed. She took in the furry dark rug by the bed, the cushioned chair and covers of vinyl records he had taped to the wall above the bed. There was a doorway to a closet, as well as to a showerless bathroom to make things just a little bit easier for Calum living so far from the communal bathrooms. But the other trinkets and decorations around the room, they all screamed of Calum’s personality Parker wanted to know, and he realized, over the course of the past few days, that he wanted her to.

His hand lifting, running his fingers through his hair as he took a breath and licked his lips. The sight of Parker standing in the middle of his room, taking in everything around her, had his throat tightening. “You can take the bed.”

Her head turned to look at him, a delicate furrow on her eyebrows as she asked, “What about you?”

Calum offered her a smile, reassuring and sincere as he gestured to the comfortable chair by the bed. It was cushioned and soft, whoever sat in it would just sink into the material, and he’d already fallen asleep in it more than once. “I’ll sleep on that.”

Eyes darting to the chair, Parker’s frown deepened with parted lips, taking a disagreeing breath as she shook her head. “Wh—no. I can’t ask you to do that.” She swallowed, throat working as she added, “I’ll just go to my room. I shouldn’t even be bothering you with this.”

She made a move to walk towards the door, but Calum was in her way, his heart in his throat. “No—stay.” Parker stopped at Calum’s words, mouth pressing together as she stared up at him with wondrous, disbelieving eyes. She saw the corners of his lips quirk upwards in a hopeful smile. “You shouldn’t—I don’t want you t’be alone tonight. So just—stay, yeah? Please.”

If she really didn’t want to, of course Calum wouldn’t force her to against her will. But fortunately, he saw Parker’s resolve breaking, probably because of how late it was, how tired she was over her loss. It was quite the change both of them were faced with, going from him avoiding her to her avoiding him to him offering his bed to her. But the sight of Parker crying so hopelessly had shaken Calum, so much more than he ever thought possible, making it a sight he never wanted to witness again because it was awful.

Parker pulled her lower lip into her mouth, chewing it for a moment as she looked at him. They stared at one another for a moment, taking in the sight of his tattooed arms and curly hair and sincere expression that melted some of the tightness in her heart, and she relented. “Okay.”

They adjusted, with Calum taking one pillow and blanket from the bed for himself on the chair, settling into the comfortable furniture as he watched, just a few feet away, Parker take off her slippers and slip into the bed under the blanket, already in her pajamas. The glow of the lamp lit up her face as she lay on her side, facing it, facing where Calum laid on the chair nearby. He looked at her, cheek resting against his own pillow with the blanket at his waist also resting on his side.

It was a sight, having her in his bed, not exactly expecting it to be under these circumstances. But Calum didn’t care nor did he mind. He didn’t want to be alone tonight and if this was how it had to be, he was perfectly fine with it. So long as Parker knew that he would be there for her if she needed him to be.

They were quiet for a moment, the silence of the night settling over them in his room. He wondered if his pillow and blanket would smell like her in the morning, kind of hoped for it, prayed that she’d be able to get a good night’s rest.

“She had complications after delivery.” Parker’s voice was quiet, eyes unfocused and looking at something past Calum, maybe the shelves behind him, and he stayed quiet. “Postpartum preeclampsia. It—it’s a rare condition and we should’ve known because she had diabetes. But she just—” Parker stopped, voice shuddering, throat working as she remained laying on the bed. “She stroked out. And we were just—too late.”

Calum swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, feeling the pain in Parker’s voice and just how much this was affecting her. He couldn’t imagine that kind of ache she was suffering through, couldn’t imagine the weight of the guilt she was enduring over losing a patient she’d known for so long, someone she was meant to take care of. Having someone’s life in your hands—Calum couldn’t imagine it, and he realized that he admired Parker for the career she had. She saved people’s lives for a living. No doubt the loss of one she failed to help would eat away at her tremendously, especially if it was a patient she’d been treating for years.

He so desperately wanted to help her. Except all he could say right now was a soft and sincere, “I’m sorry.”

For everything.

Parker pulled the blanket up to her chin, blue eyes flashing to Calum’s brown, letting out a breath. She looked at him and Calum felt a shiver run down his spine because the way she was looking at him made him feel as though she was looking for something. He wasn’t sure if she found what she was looking for, wasn’t sure what she was thinking, as Parker reached for the hanging handle of the lamp and murmured to Calum, “I know,” before shutting it off.

Both spent most of the night thinking of each other, thinking of everything that’s happened, but never saying a word. Never reaching out to the person laying just a few feet away from them. But they thought of each other. Dreamt of each other. Hoped things would get better. And, eventually, fell asleep.

                                                       *****

Parker stood in front of the glass door, shuffling on her feet and wondering if she should just knock on the damn door. She’d been standing outside of it for about five minutes now, silently debating this, when she knew she should just fucking knock. But Parker was nervous and a little bit scared, if she was being honest, because last night Calum had been so kind and sincere with her that she was dreading the potential rude awakening she may have to face. That it had only been a one time thing because he caught her sobbing her heart out and felt for her in that moment, and now things were going to go back to the way they had been for weeks now.

Still, Parker felt bad. She had left early this morning, before Calum even woke up because she was being paged, and left in a hurry. Truthfully, she wanted to thank him for letting her stay in his room last night, because despite the way he’d been acting towards her leading up to last night, Parker still appreciate the kindness—even if it was simple, decent human behavior. But she’d never been one to take someone’s kindness and not thank them for it. Which is why she was here now.

So she knocked, knuckles rapping on the glass pane, throat working to swallow the nervous lump that had formed as she waited for him to answer. Parker played with her fingers, picking at her unpainted nails as she looked around the roof, the late afternoon sun providing a warm glow all over. Her admirance of it was cut short, however, when the door swung open and there stood Calum.

Her breath hitched at the sight of him, only in grey sweats and an oversized darker grey shirt, looking unfairly adorable with his messy curls and providing Parker with the sudden, ridiculous urge to just fucking hug him. He looked so comfortable in his clothes, yet so attractive with the tattoos inking his brown skin and the scruff he was sporting. It was dizzying, just looking at him.

“Hi,” she found herself greeting, voice expectedly a whisper as she offered a smile.

She noticed the slight raise in Calum’s eyebrows at the sight of her, hand going from gripping the door handle to the frame higher up, offering a small smile of his own. “Hey,” he responded easily. His dark eyes took in the sight of her, showered and in leggings and a tank top after returning from her shift at the hospital. Brown met blue as he surprised her by asking, “Wanna come in?”

Parker looked over his shoulder into the familiar room, not entirely expecting that offer. She’d been waiting for the cold yet blank looks and unfriendly nature, which may be unfair given how he’d acted the night before—yet still justifiable because of how he’d behaved every day leading up to it—right? Still, Parker felt herself nod as she answered, “Yeah.”

She got a whiff of his familiar, dizzying cologne as he stepped aside to let her in, mixed in with the faintest scent of nicotine as Calum shut the door behind her. The room was just as same as the night before, of course, only this time the afternoon sun sweeped in through the curtains and their was a glow in his room in place of the darkness from before. Turning to face Calum, Parker was once again playing with her fingers as she started, “I just, uh, wanted to thank you. For, you know, listening to me last night and letting me sleep in your bed.” She licked her lips nervously, heart leaping ever so slightly as she saw his eyes track the movement before unapologetically meeting her gaze once more. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, I did,” came his immediate response, one corner of his mouth lifting up, as if allowing Parker to sleep in his bed was something he did all the time. Like it was no big deal. “You were going through somethin’ and I don’t—I didn’t want you to be alone last night.” Then Calum let out a quiet, raspy and breathy chuckle that screamed of self deprecation as he shrugged his shoulders and his left hand reached up to rub the side of his neck, silver bracelet slinking downwards. “You probably wanted to be with a friend or somethin’, but I, um, I wanted you to know that ’m here for you, too.”

Parker could feel her heart pounding in her chest and hear it in her ears, teeth pressing together briefly at Calum’s words, eyeing him for any sign of insincerity. But he looked genuine, sounded it too, along with disappointment in himself for even having to put himself in a category that wasn’t considered being friends with Parker. Yet he still managed to make her heart race, make her wonder if he wanted to be just her friend or something more. “Really?”

Calum’s hand dropped to his side, Adam’s apple in his throat working as he instantly answered, “Yes.” He released a sharp breath, sounding so loud in the comforting quiet of his room as he took two steps towards Parker as he said, “I’m sorry, doll, for everything. I’m sorry ’bout your patient—’bout Joanna. I’m sorry you’re hurtin’ and that I can’t fix it. And I’m—’m sorry for bein’ such an asshole and hurtin’ you just because I couldn’t get my own shit together and treated you so badly. I’m sorry for callin’ you an intruder when you first got here—” He almost laughed at how stupid he’d been.” Calum wasn’t sure if he’d apologized to one person so much before in his life, but he meant every word. Every fucking syllable. Hurting Parker ate away at him a lot more than he thought it would, the whole situation escalating out of his control, and it almost drove him crazy. It drove him crazy that he wanted her right away, drove him mad when he finally got to have her, and it drove him completely fucking insane that he was being such a shitty person to her when she’d done absolutely nothing wrong. Who was he to give her more crap to worry about than she already had to? Who the fuck did that? Especially to someone they liked? It was sick.

His throat felt dry, but Calum didn’t care as he now stood in front of Parker, his height towering over hers as their eyes never left each others; his genuine and honest and desperate and hers incredulous and bewildered and—dare he consider it—elated. It gave him a little bit of hope, a little bit of a push to keep going. “I don’t expect you to forgive me right away, or at all, but I really am sorry, Parker. I am. . .” He trailed off breathily, letting out a slightly incredulous laugh as he shook his head at himself. “I am so sorry that ’m absolutely terrible at tellin’ the girl I like how I feel because she deserves more than that from me. You deserve more than that.”

Parker wondered, right there, if Calum could hear the way her heart was hammering in her chest, how she could feel every nerve in her body electrify with every word he spoke. She was acutely aware of everything; of the strands of her blonde hair tickling the bare skin of her shoulders, of the complete dryness of her mouth Calum’s tenderly intense words created, of the glorious tightness in her chest that wasn’t caused by pain or hurt but by relief and disbelief and so much more her spinning head couldn’t quite properly focus on.

He liked her. He liked her and he was sorry for everything. He liked her and he completely meant it.

She could see the apology in Calum’s eyes, could hear it in the desperation of his words. They could, and would, have a much longer conversation about it all later. But right now, Parker didn’t want to hurt. He was trying to make up for it, was already succeeding at it, and she could give him grief over it later on. Right now, she just wanted him.

“You know,” she spoke up, a lilt creeping into her tone as she took a step towards him, the distance between their bodies closing up exponentially as her eyes never left his. Calum watched her, intensely and hopefully and longingly, and she felt her heart flutter. Parker was tired of all the bullshit. She just wanted to go past it. And, admittedly, she wanted Calum. Practically from the moment she’d met him. Her eyes flickered to his lips, full and pink and kissable, before continuing, “I’m getting tired of you deciding what I deserve. You can’t decide things for me and expect me to abide by them, Calum.”

His throat worked, eyes dropping to her own pink lips, adoring the freckles on her face and wanting to spend hours counting every single one. Maybe he could someday. “You’re absolutely right,” Calum responded, his voice unintentionally dropping to a raspy whisper, one that sent a pleasant shiver down Parker’s spine. His forehead dropped, pressing against hers, curls brushing against her skin. The small smile that had tugged on his lips faltered slightly, sighing softly as he admitted, “I definitely don’t deserve you, though.”

Parker couldn’t help but roll her eyes, leaning away ever so slightly as their hands absently found each other’s. “Again with the executive decision making,” she huffed out, only slightly joking, as she pursed her lips up at Calum. He rolled his own lips into his mouth, gaze dropping, and Parker shook her head, squeezing his hands as she felt the cool metal of his rings against her skin. With a kind, gentle smile, she added, “I forgive you.” His eyes met hers, disbelieving and confused, and her smile widened. “I do, because I spend way too much time in a hospital where people don’t ever say what they mean to those they care about and who regret what they didn’t get to do once it’s too late. I don’t—” Parker paused, worrying that she may be coming off too strong, relaxing only at the sight of the soft smile on Calum’s face and the reassuring squeeze he gave her hands this time. Her heart fluttered; she liked this side of him. Could definitely get used to it. “I don’t want to have any regrets, and I don’t want you to, either.” She smiled, pretty and honest. “Doctor’s orders.”

The last two words had a gentle, adoring laugh escaping Calum, one that widened Parker’s grin because it was a sound she wanted to hear more of. A sight, full of a wide grin and crinkled eyes, she never wanted to forget, as his forehead returned to press against hers. It was tender, he was tender, a complete change from how things had been between them, yet neither would have it any other way. Because even though it may only have been a few weeks, it felt like a lifetime where they spent avoiding each other, acting stupid and ignoring their feelings. And being there, holding each other’s hands and breathing the other in, strangely felt like coming home.

It was terrifying and nerve wracking and completely ridiculous to feel this way after only meeting just weeks ago. But, God, neither of them cared. Not when it felt this good and this right. Not when they’d gone through tedious avoidances and mishandled feelings.

“Doctor’s orders, huh?” Calum grinned, nose brushing against Parker’s, their foreheads still pressed together and the distance between them practically nonexistent. Their skin was heating up with the desire of wanting to be closer than they were, both eager to give in. Calum hummed approvingly. “I think I can follow those.”

Parker couldn’t help the grin on her face; wide and goofy and relieved as she stared into a pair of brown eyes that were more warm and inviting than she’d ever seen them. She tilted her mouth towards his, lips brushing together and sending jolts of electricity down both of their bodies. It was a wonder they didn’t close the gap right then and there. “You sure?”

She was teasing him. Calum could see it in the glint in her eyes and the lilt in her tone, and it only made him want to kiss her more. Made him appreciate Parker and who she was, and he couldn’t wait to get to know her more. In every single way possible. Trying to keep his distance from her when she first moved into the Viridian had been an idiot’s move on his part, which only backfired on him later on. But Calum knew, in that moment with her hands in his and her lips slowly coming to touch his, that Parker Hayden being the newest member of the Viridian had the potential of being the best thing that could’ve happened to him.

His lips brushed hers, a soft and honest murmur of, “Yes, doc,” escaping him, and the last thing he saw was Parker’s widened smile before pressing his lips to hers. They melted into each other, instantly and familiarly and finally. This time, the promise of there being more excited their hearts and slowed their kiss; soft and languid and savoring every movement of lips. This time, they allowed themselves to truly get lost in the other’s touch because they knew, deep down, they may have also found themselves in the other.

tags: @crownedbyluke @irwinkitten @glitterprincelu @softforcal @valentinelrh @hotmessmichael @meetashthere @astroashtonio @calumh-excess @hearts-to-the-sky @old-zeppelin-shirt @angelbbycal @captain-what-is-going-on @calumthoodsyonce @cathartichaoss @misskarynie @softboycal @soulmatecashton @babygirlcashton @cxddlyash @calumhoodless @wrappedaroundcal @calumculture @ohhmuke @fucking5sos @heavenlyhemminqs @cosmixcalum @invisiblexcth @gettingjillywithit @calistheloml @cliffordcntrl @asht0ns-world @hereforlukescruff @ghostofch @ghostsofhood @dxmncalum @bitchinbabylon @walkedhomealone @poppedpins @5secondssofssummer @calumsmermaid @booklove-2 @empathycth @checkeredcalum @lovelettercalum @kchillout @rosecoloredash @theagenderwhocriedwolf @cal-pal-cuddles @xhaileyreneex @calteahood @biwriting @2k17muke @sublimehood @tupeloohoneyy @egyptiangoldhood @x-valntyne-x @bloodlinecal @97britt @emma070900 @mmxiihood @monsteramongmikey @akacalciumhood @thebodaciouscth @5sos-stan4lyfe @lipstickstainfading @flannelpunkcalum @c-sainthood @inlovehoodx @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you @fireupthatthrone @lmao5sosimagines @isabella-mae13 @mysteriouslycali @teageowen @fallfrxmgrace @dontjinx-it @thewackywriter @caswinchester2000 @calntynes @post-traumatic-mess @kissmefree 

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[httpjeon]

— the cockpile: velvet | hoseok (m.)

hoseok/reader | smut | pornstar!au

wordcount: 4k

contents: sex work, pwp, binding, spanking, hair pulling, oral (male recieving), anal play, light orgasm denial, light overstimulation, safeword, dirty talk, light choking 

― synopsis: wanting to burn off some stress, you apply to attend a session at a kink dungeon. hoseok is your master.

note: thank you so much for the love on my jin fic! here is hoseok’s version which means jungkook is coming next week!

blog masterlist | series masterlist

© httpjeon 2019. do not repost, modify, or translate.

You sighed as you dropped down into your office chair, feeling all the stress from working nonstop lately. No matter how much you tried to get time off, your boss repeatedly declined. You carefully typed the password into your desktop, opening excel to begin the task your boss had given you.

Just as you started your draft, your phone lit up beside you on your desk. The notification let you know you had received an email. Carefully, you examined around, making sure no one else in the other cubicles before you unlocked your phone to open the email.

“Good evening, Miss. _____, We looked over your application to attend a shooting with one of our masters. Congratulations, we’ve decided to accept you! We have an opening at 8pm this Saturday. Please arrive 30 minutes to an hour early to allow for time to fill out paperwork. See you soon! kinkdungeon xxx”

You bit your lip as you desperately tried to hold in your squeals of excitement.

You see, with your bastard boss denying you vacation days even though you had more than enough saved up, you took it into your own hands to find a way to relieve your growing stress and tension. Most people would get a massage or go to the spa, but instead you wanted to get railed as hard as possible. What better way to do that than to visit a kink dungeon?

So, you finished work as fast as you possibly could before you were let off of work precisely at 5pm. You rushed home to give yourself a facial mask and shave everywhere you possibly could before moisturizing your whole body.

Tomorrow was the day.

You nervously pulled the sleeves of your sweater down over your hands as you entered the intimidating doorway to the kink dungeon. When you stepped into the lobby, you were hit with warm air and the pleasant scent of lavender. The heavily tattooed lady at the front desk looked up from her computer and smiled softly.

“Can I help you?” She asked, eyeing you up and down as you approached the desk.

“I have an appointment…8pm?” You nervously cleared your throat as your mouth felt dry from nerves.

“Name?” She asked, moving her gaze to her computer.

“_____,” You responded automatically, keeping your eyes on the woman as he typed into the computer before she gave a firm nod.

“Okay,” She said, turning to the side to pull out a little stack of papers. “I need you to fill these in for me.”

“R-Right,” You muttered, remembering the email said there would be paperwork. You carefully took the papers and a clipboard with an attached pen. Placing it down on the desk, you read through the papers which were basically waivers, consent forms for filming, and just basic information about you. When you finished with your signature, you returned the clipboard to her. You stood there, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other as the lady put in your information into the system. You looked on the wall behind her, noticing that there were several portraits of people on the walls.

“Who are those people?” You asked the lady, causing her to look behind her before smiling.

“Oh, those are the masters and mistresses of the dungeon,” She replied, returning to finish entering your information. “Okay, so you’re all set, you can go ahead through that door. Jieun is back there and she’ll help get you situated and you can ask her any questions you have!”

“Thank you,” You smiled before going through the door she had pointed out.

As you stepped inside, you found yourself in a hallway with a large handful of doors. There was a lady, who you assumed to be Jieun, sitting at a desk situated in the corner.

“Hi,” Jieun grinned, waving you over to her. “So, your appointment is set to start soon. I want you to into the room behind me and get changed into one of the complimentary robes.”

“O-Okay,” You bit your lip as you stepped behind her desk to enter the room.

When you entered, you immediately noticed it was a locker room. It had lockers and shower stalls like at a school along with some changing stalls with a red curtain to hide your dignity. Carefully, you stepped into one of the changing rooms, closing the curtain before taking off the clothes you wore to the dungeon. After you were naked you took off the robe that was hung up on the wall of the stall, taking a careful smell of it to make sure it was clean. The scent of fresh laundry detergent filled your senses and you smiled before sliding the soft material over your body, tying the sash tightly to prevent it from falling open.

You made sure to put your belongings into a locker, memorizing it as locker number 7, before you stepped out of the room. Jieun grinned at you as you stepped out.

“Good, you’re ready!” She smiled, standing up from her chair, waving you to follow her down the hallway until she stopped at one of the last rooms. “Please go inside this room and have a seat, the recording will start soon. Do you have any questions?”

“Um, w-who will I be filming with?” You asked nervously.

“You mean your master?” You nodded in response. “Mr. Jung is your master. He’s perfect for beginners like yourself and he’s a real charmer! You’re in good hands, trust me.”

You thanked Jieun before she opened the door, allowing you to step in. The loud clang of the door seemed final as you stared at the room you were now in. It was completely different from what you expected. Instead of dark walls and concrete floors with scary metal rods everywhere, you were greeted with a calm beige painted wall and soft carpet beneath your feet along with navy blue furniture littering the room in various areas.

You padded across the floor to take a seat on the couch, the plush fabric helping to relax you. As soon as you sat back against the couch to relax, the door opened once again.

“Hello,” A man called, walking in with a bright smile on his face. “My name is Youngjae, and I’ll just be here to record the opening segment of the film, and then I’ll be out of your hair!”

“That’s f-fine,” You muttered, wincing as you stumbled over your words.

Youngjae opened a closet door and pulled out a tripod and a case, which he carried over to where you were situated on the couch. You watched in tense silence as he set up the camera and tripod, so it would face directly at you.

“Okay,” He said, taking a seat on a chair opposite of you. “I’m going to ask you some questions, is that okay?”

“Y-Yeah…” You responded immediately, already feeling awkward before he even pressed the record button.

“Alright,” He reached forward to the camera before announcing ‘action’ and beginning the recording. “Please state your name for the viewers and your age.”

You did as you were told, gaining a smile of encouragement from Youngjae.

“So, what brings you here?”

“Works been stressing me out…so I figured…why not?” You responded, fiddling nervously with the hem of your robe.

“You seem a little nervous, have you ever done anything like this before?”

“No,” You shook your head. “Well, I’ve experimented in BDSM with past boyfriends, but I’ve never done it with a professional or in a…facility.”

“Oh! So, we’re popping your dungeon cherry!” Youngjae laughed gleefully, making your face burn hot at his choice of phrasing.

Youngjae asked you a few more questions before he stood up and bid you goodbye. Once he was gone, the room was filled with an almost deafening silence.

Before you could get too nervous from the overbearing silence, there was a gentle knock on the door. After a second of silence, you replied to come in, causing the door to open.

“Hello!” A man beamed at you, taking your breath away with his sunshine exterior. “I’m Jung Hoseok and I’m going to be your master for this session,”

“O-Oh…” You swallowed thickly, watching as he walked up to you with his hand held out, meeting you in a handshake. “N-Nice to meet you,”

“Likewise,” He said, flashing you a dazzling smile before he took a seat across from you, looking as if he’s done this a million times; which, he probably has. “Now, I’d like to talk to you about your limits and do’s and don’ts. I know you filled out the paper, but I’d like to hear it from your mouth.”

“O-Okay, what do you want to know?” You asked, mentally slapping yourself for stuttering so much.

“How do you feel about restraining, blindfolds, and spanking?” He asked, crossing one leg over the other with an encouraging smile on his face, his black bangs lightly hanging in his eyes.

“Um, I’ve never really tried restraints but I’m open to it, I don’t like blindfolds and I love spanking,” You smiled to yourself for not stuttering.

“I see, I see,” Hoseok paused, seeming to think for a second before asking the next question. “Have you ever done any anal? What over overstimulation?”

“I’ve…never done anal but I really want to and I have dabbled in overstimulation,” You bit your lip, feeling your face heat up from the confession.

“Wonderful,” He grinned, making you blush further at how attractive he was. “I have a scene in mind that’s perfect for you. Now, I want to give you your safeword.”

“Okay,” You replied immediately, giving him your full attention.

“If at any time during the session you feel uncomfortable or something’s wrong, you can use the safeword. You won’t be gagged at any time so you will be able to tell me,” He smiled, standing up and holding his hand out for you to take, which you did with a small smile of your own. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, go ahead,”

“Velvet,” When you gave him a firm nod he shook his head. “I need to hear you say it, darling,”

“V-Velvet,” You breathed, already beginning to feel your body heat up as Hoseok’s demeanor began to change.

“Are you ready to start?” He asked, moving to stand closer to you, reaching up and brushing your hair behind your ear gently.

“Y-Yes…”

“Yes what, kitten?”

“Yes sir…” Your voice trembled as you uttered the words, feeling heat spread through your body as your arousal settled in your stomach.

“Good girl,” He cooed, cupping your face in his palms, gently smoothing his thumbs over your skin. Slowly, he used one hand to untie the sash on your waist, letting the robe fall open to expose your bare body to both his gaze and the cool room. “Can you sit down on the floor for me?”

“Y-Yes sir,” Connecting your eyes with his, you slowly sunk to the floor, the carpeted floor greeting your knees when you finally settled, feeling even more exposed to his gaze now that you were both naked and on your knees at his mercy.

“That’s a good girl,” He gently patted your head before turning around, making his way to a closet.

Your eyes were locked on the way his lithe body moved so confidently. He fished around in the closet for a second before he pulled out a duffle bag. When he made his way back over to you, he placed the bag on the edge of the couch before opening it and pulling out red ties. He briefly showed the material to you before he made his way behind you.

“Put your arms together behind you, please,” He said, voice soft but still commanding.

You quickly brought them to your back, which Hoseok then took and folded them together so it would be comfortable for you but still render you immobile. You immediately felt the cool silk when he began to tie your arms in place. It took you a moment to get your balance when he released you, leaving you to kneel with your arms tied behind you.

“There you go, sweetheart,” He cooed, moving to stand in front of you.

You bit your lip, staring up at him as he began to unbutton his jeans. Your eyes widened when his cock was exposed to your gaze for the first time, making your mouth run dry. He was already hard just from tying you up, and you automatically opened your mouth, resulting in a ‘good girl’ praise from him.

Ever so slowly, he sunk his cock into your mouth, making him moan softly when he was surrounded by the wet warmth of your mouth. Your tongue swirled gently around the head, coaxing a bead of precum from the tip. You moaned at his taste, closing your eyes as you carefully sucked his cock, making sure not to graze him with your teeth as he carefully thrusted in and out, just barely kissing your gag reflex.

“Fuck,” He groaned, tangling his long fingers in your hair. “I knew you were going to be a good girl for me,”

With your mouth full, you were unable to answer, but his praise had your core tingling and you were positive by the end of this you’ll have to drink 50 bottles of Gatorade to make up for the loss of moisture in your body from where it all leaked out to form a puddle on the floor.

Suddenly, he pulled his cock out of your mouth, leaving you to whimper and squirm in a pit of your own arousal. You licked your lips, collecting the string of spit that connected your lips to his cock still, making him moan softly as he wrapped his hand around his cock and pumped it slowly, smearing your saliva all over the shaft.

“Bend over, put your head on the couch for me,” He ordered, roughly grabbing your arm to tug you into the correct position.

Your bare ass and core were exposed to his gaze now as he rounded behind you, still pumping his cock in his hand. He kicked the insides of your thighs, forcing you to spread your legs more until your body weight was supported by holding yourself up by leaning on the couch.

Hoseok released his cock, squatting down behind you. You whimpered softly when his hand cupped one of your cheeks, spreading it to get a good view of your leaking entrance and twitching rosebud. He groaned softly, releasing your cheek only to bring his hand down with a resounding smack that made you whine in shock from the sudden sting.

“God, you have a beautiful ass, babygirl,” He growled, delivering another slap to the same spot, watching the skin jiggle under the impact.

He continued to rain down smacks onto your ass, forcing moans and whimpers from you while he gave growls and praises as you took every slap. Your ass became red, the once apparent handprints becoming blotches of red that appeared all over the skin. Every time he paused to sooth the skin with a gentle hand, the contact made you squirm in place. You were so wet, clenching around nothing as your juices slowly leaked down your thigh and onto the floor. Hoseok hadn’t yet commented on how wet you were and you were filled with embarrassment at the prospect of how he would degrade you once he noticed.

“Dirty girl,” He cooed, standing up once again, making you sigh once all contact with him ceased. Mindlessly, you ground your hips into the air, desperate for some kind of friction on your aching clit. “You want to get fucked, beautiful, is that why you’re dripping all over the place?”

You whimpered in response, biting your lip as your hole clenched pathetically once more. When you didn’t respond, Hoseok grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking you up to look at him, making you cry out at the shock of pain through your scalp.

“I asked you a question, princess,” He growled, lust-filled eyes burning holes into you the longer he glared at you.

“Y-Yes I wan-want to get fucked so bad, sir!” You cried, barely even aware of the words that left your lips as you were sucked into a haze of arousal.

“There’s a good girl,” He cooed, gently letting you lay back down on the couch. “Since you’re being so good, I’ll fuck you, how does that sound?”

“Y-Yes please Master!” You whined, poking your butt out more when you felt him kneel behind you.

He reached between your legs, his fingers sliding between the swollen, wet lips of your heat to find your clit. You keened immediately, grinding down into his touch only to whine in disappointment when his touch disappeared.

“Fucking soaking cunt,” He growled, sliding the fingers he had just touched you with, which were coated in your juice, into his mouth. “And so sweet too, I’d love to spend all day tasting your little pussy but I really gotta fuck you now,”

With a desperate whine you felt Hoseok’s head prod at your entrance. While you weren’t prepped at all, you knew you were more than wet enough to accept his member all at once. This was proven the moment Hoseok thrusted forward to sheath his entire length into your hole. Once he was fully seated to the base, he paused for a moment to listen to you whimper in pleasure at being filled finally.

His fingers gently caressed down your spine, soothing your whimpers and trembling with his gentle touch. When he was sure you were adjusted to his sudden entrance, he pulled back only to thrust himself back inside you with a loud, wet smack. Your hands, bound behind you, flexed as you desperately wanted something to grapple onto to ground yourself with Hoseok’s cock kissing against your g-spot causing untold pleasure.

“It-It’s so good…Master, please,” You begged mindlessly, feeling tears prick at your eyes at the pleasure.

“Please what, little one,” He asked, leaning over your body, feeling your hands grip at his shirt once it was within reach.

“F-Fuck me…” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut, causing a stray tear to roll down your cheek.

“If that’s what you want, then you’ll get it,”

You whined when he pulled away from you, causing your hands to scramble at nothing for a second before he started fucking you with all he had. You felt your eyes roll back into your head the faster he went, his jeans scraping against the tender skin of your butt only added to all the sensations you were feeling at once. His cock pounded away at your g-spot, and you felt so close to your orgasm, but you were unable to release without the needed stimulation to your clit. Hoseok reached beneath you, both hands cupping your breasts before he pulled you until your back was pressed against his chest and you were standing on your knees.

“God, you’re so fucking wet…and tight…” He growled into your ear, nimble fingers pinching your sensitive nipples.

His filthy words only added to the ever growing unachievable orgasm that dangled in front of you. Hoseok merely chuckled when you your head flopped back against his shoulder, your eyes rolled back into your head as your hole desperately convulsed around his penetrating cock. Your juices flowed endlessly, coating his cock and balls and down your thighs. You were an absolute mess for him, and it was fucking beautiful.

“You wanna cum, huh?” He growled into your ear, only receiving a small whimper from you in response.

He released one of your breasts, wrapping his now free hand around your throat, immediately cutting off your air supply. The way your eyes bulged in shock was humorous to him, making him smirk. Your cheeks slowly became a deeper shade of red as you blindly stared at him while he fucked you. Just as your eyes began to roll back once again, he released your throat, taking in the desperate sound of you gasping for air.

“Now, do you want to cum, slut?!” He growled into your ear once again.

“Y-Yes! Yes, please Master!” You cried, practically sobbing for your release.

“Alright, get down then,” He released you, letting you drop down to the floor with a solid thump, but you barely noticed as you buried your face in the carpet.

You were able to stare between your legs to watch Hoseok’s cock pound in and out of your desperate hole. You were expecting to feel his fingers find your hard little clit, but instead you felt him circling around your other entrance. Your mouth dropped open in a silent moan when he sunk his thumb into the puckered hole, feeling even more full than you ever had before.

Suddenly, you were cumming. The sound of your heart pounding filled your ears, you weren’t aware of anything other than the orgasm wrecking your body. Your walls convulsed helplessly around Hoseok’s thick cock, coating him in your cum and making a complete mess.

As your senses returned to you, you immediately became aware of Hoseok’s groaning and how he was still fucking you without missing a beat.

“Fuck, you came so hard for me, babygirl,” He cooed, pulling his thumb from your ass, only to bring his fingers to your clit, too sensitive for his expert touch.

“Ah! P-Please, I’m too sensitive!” You cried, trying to dislodge his fingers from your bud.

“I’m gonna cum,” He growled, suddenly, the feeling of your walls tightening on him from your oversensitivity causing him to race towards his own end.

With your own sob of pleasure, he yanked himself from your hole, desperately jerking himself off over your body. You were unable to see him, and you wished you could, so you closed your eyes and listened to the way his moans rose in frequency until you felt a hot splash against your rosebud. He slowed his pace on his cock, making sure to milk out every drop of cum until his orgasm came to an end.

You were both panting by the end of it, a calm stillness overtaking the room. However, Hoseok was the first to move, stuffing his softening length back into his jeans before standing up. Ever so gently, he untied your hands, allowing you to sit yourself up.

You were still returning to a solid headspace as you sat there on the floor, feeling sticky but satisfied. You blinked your bleary eyes, finding Hoseok where he was digging through the bag he got the ties from. He pulled out a blue and white package from the bag and found his way back over to you.

“How’re you feeling, beautiful,” He cooed, offering you his brilliant smile once again. This time, you were able to offer him a hazy smile in return.

“I’m okay,” You replied softly, making him chuckle softly.

“I’ve got some baby wipes if you want to wipe down, do you want a bottle of water or candy? Get your sugar up?” He asked softly, keeping his voice level and calm.

“Yes please,” You took the baby-wipes he offered to you and began to wipe down your center and thighs, where the stickiness and wetness was concentrated, while Hoseok went to a mini-fridge to get what you asked for.

After about 30 minutes, you finally felt steady enough to move on your own. You felt like yourself as well, sitting there eating a Snickers and drinking a bottle of water until both were gone.

“It was lovely meeting you, _____,” He said, blushing softly at the relaxed nature of his words despite the fact that he had just fucked you silly not that long ago.

“Y-You too,” You offered before you parted your ways.

Finally dressed in your clothes, you were ready to go. However, you had to fight the blush as you stepped outside once again, worried that everyone would know what you had been up to-even though no one else was around the building at this time of night.

You sighed, getting into your car before your phone went off.

“From: Unknown On a scale of 1-10, how would you rate our service at Kink Dungeons?”

With a shy smile, you carefully typed a 10.

#bts #bts smut #bts reaction #bts scenario #bts preferences #bts imagines #jung hoseok #bts jhope #hoseok smut #min yoongi #bts suga #yoongi smut #kim seokjin #bts jin #jin smut #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #park jimin #bts jimin #jimin smut #kim namjoon #bts rm #namjoon smut #kim taehyung #bts taehyung #taehyung smut #bts fanfic

[we-shyrebelbouquet-love-blog]

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[pocket-luv101]

KuroMahi 19. Yes I went there. (I’m so sorry, thank you)

Anon, I know you probably want angst but I can’t write any right now. I hope you’re okay with fluff and some NSFW-ish stuff at the end.

KuroMahi {19: “There’s so muchblood”}

Kuro was dozing off in Mahiru’sclassroom and reading a manga. He flipped the page but his mind wasn’t focusedon the story. Mahiru had told Kuro that it would be best if he waited in the classroomwhile he worked with his classmates in the gym. He wondered when Mahiru wouldbe finished with his after school activity. His class was organizing a play sohe had to stay after school to help. Of course, he volunteered for a lot ofjobs and Kuro hoped he wasn’t overworking himself.

He heard footsteps outside the doorand he debated if he should hide or not. He knew that the staff would likelykick him out because he wasn’t a student. Kuro jumped to his feet when therewas a loud crash and he heard someone scream in the hall. It was Mahiru’svoice. His heart began to race when he realized that and he rushed out to thehall.

“Mahiru, are you okay?” He calledhis name even before he opened the door. Then he stepped into the hall and hisheart stopped. Mahiru was laying on the ground with blood around him. There wasblood on his clothes and hands as well. Kuro knelt in front of him and hereached out to help him sit up. His hands shook but he tried to check Mahiru’sinjuries. “Where are you bleeding? Oh god, there’s so much blood.”

“Kuro, it’s okay. Calm down.” Mahirucould see how panicked he was and that his face was pale. He cupped his cheeksand forced him to look into his eyes. He smiled reassuringly and he was gladthat Kuro paused long enough for him to explain. “I’m not hurt, Kuro. I’mcompletely fine. See?”

“Thank God,” Kuro breathed a sigh ofrelief. He hugged Mahiru tightly to his chest. Seeing Mahiru covered in bloodgave him a heart attack. He reluctantly let him go and leaned away from him. Henoticed that Mahiru had a small smile on his face. Kuro realized that heprobably embarrassed himself with his reaction. He tried to mask his blushunder a disinterested tone. “So, what’s with the blood?”

“It’s fake blood for the play we’reputting on, don’t worry. I was just taking a bucket of it to the gym andtripped. Now I got this nasty stuff all over me. I need a shower,” He said witha sigh. With his words, Kuro visibly relaxed. Mahiru stood and looked over themess. “I should clean this up before there’s any more confusion. I’ll textRyusei to tell him what happened and that I’ll be back late.”

Mahiru started to leave but hestopped when Kuro took his hand and pulled him back into his arms. Kuro triedto wipe the red water off his cheek using his sleeve. Even though he knew thatit was fake, he didn’t like the sight. It only reminded him of all the terribletimes Mahiru had been hurt because of him. “Do you need any help cleaning this up?”

“Really?” Mahiru raised a brow athim. He would occasionally help him clean but that was after a lot ofpersuading on Mahiru’s part. It was rare for him to offer to help clean. Thehint of remorse in his red eyes confused him as well. Kuro didn’t make him tripso he had no reason to feel guilty. He was certain that he would’ve caught himif they were together when he tripped.

But Mahiru pushed those questionsaside for now. He was grateful for Kuro’s help and nodded. “Thanks Kuro! Withyour help, we can finish cleaning this faster and I can go shower. I’ll talk tothe school janitor and ask him for some mops. Just wait right here and I’ll beright back. If someone comes along, explain that it’s fake blood.”

After giving him the instructions,Mahiru ran off. Kuro wanted to tell him that he should shower first instead of walkingaround with fake blood on him. A part of him knew that he was overreacting. Hewasn’t drenched in the fake blood. It was only a few splatters but Kuro simplyhated seeing Mahiru injured.

Soon, Mahiru returned with mops andbuckets of water. The janitor also came to help them clean the fake blood. Theywere able to finish quickly. Mahiru had to stop by his locker to get a sparechange of clothes before walking to the school’s showers. Kuro thought that hewould be waiting outside so he was shocked when Mahiru pulled him into thechanging room. “What are you doing, Mahiru?”

“Well, you’ll look like a creeperstanding outside of the changing room and I would worry about a teacher callingsecurity on you. Thinking simply, you can just wait in here. But no peeking,”Mahiru said with a tiny giggle. He placed his clothes and shoes on a bench inthe changing area. He gestured for Kuro to sit on the bench as well. Then hewalked into the shower stall and pulled the curtains close between them.

“I hope I can wash this fake bloodout of my uniform.” He heard Mahiru mutter to himself before the shower cameon.

“What kind of play are you guysputting on that you have to need so much fake blood?”

“Romeo and Juliet.” Mahiruanswered him. Kuro wasn’t as knowledgeable as his brother about Shakespeare’splays but he did know Romeo and Juliet. He didn’t stop Mahiru fromsummarizing the play though. He liked to listen his voice. When he wasfinished, Mahiru added, “They made things needlessly complicated if you askme.”

“They should’ve kept things simple.”

“Exactly!” Kuro chuckled slightlybecause it was the response he thought Mahiru would make. “If we were intheir position, what would you do?”

“I wouldn’t marry you, that’sfor sure.” Kuro answered. He heard Mahiru make a sharp gasp and realizedhow his words must’ve sounded. He explained, “I know how important yourfamily is to you so I can’t ask you to give them up for me. I love you and Iwant to make you happy. It would be tiring but I’ll talk to your uncle andconvince him to let us be together. Hopefully, he won’t run a sword through mewhen I try to talk to him. This is a Shakespeare tragedy, after all.”

“Unless you can die by badpuns, you’re safe from my uncle. Anyways, I wouldn’t let him do anything toyou.” Mahiru said. “Can you bring me my towel, Kuro?”

He took the towel sitting next tohim and went to him. He wanted to respect his privacy so he hanged the towelover the shower curtain rod. “Do you want me to get your clothestoo?”

“Actually, I just wanted to seeyou. It’s hard to hear you when the shower is running and you’re in the changing room.” Mahiru poked his head out of the shower and grinned up at him.He held the curtain over his body for modesty’s sake. His eyes softened when heasked, “What would you say to my uncle to convince him? I’m curious.”

“The simple truth: I loveyou.” He brushed his wet hair from his face. Kuro was relieved that theblood was gone. The fact that Mahiru was human was always on the back of his mind.That was why seeing the fake blood bothered him so much. He loved seeing Mahirufull of life, with his eyes bright and his cheeks flushed, like he was now. Hecaught a water droplet on his cheek and let his fingers linger over his skin.

“Even if we’re in the middle ofa war, I’ll do anything to protect you. I know that it’s going to be hard butI’m going to stay by your side no matter what happens. You’re worth thetrouble. Once your uncle accepts us, I’ll marry you.” Kuro promised andkissed his full lips. He only meant for it to be a short, light kiss but hefound himself drawn into Mahiru’s warmth.

Mahiru let go of the curtain andgripped his jacket. With his lips still pressed against Kuro’s, he walkedbackwards and pulled him into the shower. His back hit the wall and he gaspedat how cold it was compared to Kuro’s body. His gasp turned into a whimper whenKuro deepened the kiss. He returned the kiss and tasted him on his tongue. Histongue massaged his and coaxed a moan from Kuro. The running water from theshower drowned out the sounds of their wet kiss.

“You look like a drenched cat,Kuro.” Mahiru leaned away the barest amount and smiled against his lips.He reached up and pushed his hood off his head. He stood on his toes and buriedhis fingers into his hair. Love and lust clouded his brown eyes and the sightmade Kuro want to kiss him again. But he knew that it wouldn’t stop with just akiss. Kuro ran his hand over Mahiru’s hip. Then wrapped his arm around hiswaist and pulled him flushed against his body.

“Be careful or else I’ll makeyou late for your play.” Kuro warned but he hoped that Mahiru wouldn’tstop.

“I did text Ryusei to tell him thatI would be coming back late. Don’t worry about that. I think the more pressingmatter right now is that one of us is wearing too much clothes.” Hegrinned at him as his fingers worked on the buttons of his jacket. He wanted tofeel his skin against his. Mahiru peppered kisses onto his neck as Kuro fumbledwith his clothes. His hot breath brushed against his ear as he whispered, “Sinfrom thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged. Give me my sin again.”

“I don’t speakShakespeare.” It was difficult for Kuro to speak when his mind wasbecoming a haze. The only thing he could focus on was Mahiru’s voice and handsteasing him.

“I asked you to kiss me.”Mahiru amended. He didn’t need to ask him a second time before Kuro caught hislips in a heated kiss.

Maybe one day I’ll write another full smut.

[FanficPrompt List]

#servamp #kuromahi #sloth pair #mahiru shirota #servamp kuro #fanfiction #Anonymous

[fairyling]

code orange // part 1

summary: mike gets admitted to a psych ward. he’s scared of what’s going to happen and what kind of people he’s going to meet, but his mother made him promise to give it a chance because she didn’t know what else to do for him

a/n: so i’ve seen a lot of psych ward aus and tbh they make me mad?? i was in and out of psych wards from the age of twelve to eighteen and i’ve been in several different psych wards. it’s almost never like what people paint them as in the aus that they write so i wanted to try to write one with my own experiences. let me know what you guys think

word count: 2793

“You don’t really need a tour. All of this stuff is labelled and it’s really hard to get lost around here. They typically just have someone give a tour so that you can get to know someone. It’s really overwhelming to just walk into the common area and be attacked by literally everyone. They get really excited when someone new comes in.”

Mike nodded and continued to follow the shorter boy down the hall. The nurses station was the first thing he saw and then the other boy had walked him down the hallway of bedrooms. About halfway down the hallway it split off into an intersection. To the left were a few more bedrooms, the kitchen, and a dining area. Ben had explained that that was where they ate breakfast but they ate lunch and dinner off the unit. To the right was the common area and a hallway that led to a door which was locked, but led into the courtyard. There was a whiteboard on that wall that had a list of names with backwards checkmarks beside the names. “Why are the checks backwards?” he had asked, walking closer to the whiteboard as he studied it.

“Bethany always does the checks backwards when she’s counting how many people are leaving. It’s just a silly thing that makes some of us laugh. Some other patients get pretty annoyed by it, but she continues anyway.” Ben explained with a smile. Ben was almost a head shorter than Mike. He was much rounder, but it was clear to Mike that he was trying to hide that behind a baggy grey sweatshirt and pajama pants with snowflakes decorating them. The hem of one pant leg was rolled up and the other pooled around Ben’s toes.

Nodding with a smile, Mike turned his attention away from the board and back to the boy that was giving him a tour. He opened his mouth to say something because he felt like he should. Nothing came to mind, though, so he simply closed his mouth. Ben offered a warm smile before he pointed down the hallway that stretched on. “There’s some more bedrooms down there. I’m pretty sure that they said you’d be rooming with Richie. He tends to always be talking but we had lights out about an hour ago and he’s on pretty heavy sleep aides. So you probably won’t experience him in all of his glory until the morning.” Ben smiled, walking down the hallway to lead Mike to his room. “I’m in the first room on the left. My roommate is Bill and he’s, uh, something. We both tend to stay up later so rather than letting our roommates complain about us they just put us together. Don’t go up to him tomorrow, though, wait for him to come to you.”

Mike nodded once again and he bit his lip. Ben seemed nice and friendly, Mike hoped that most of the other patients were like that. Something about Ben seemed vaguely familiar as well, but Mike couldn’t quite place where he recognized him from. “Do you know when I’ll get my clothes back so I can change into pajamas? I meant to ask but my mom had a lot of questions for the nurse and before I knew it, I was being introduced to you.” he explained, tugging awkwardly at the edge of his shirt. He was still in a worn pair of blue-jeans and a graphic tee and he really was hoping that he wouldn’t have to sleep in those.

“They usually check stuff overnight for any form of contraband. If you need something before bed, though, you can go down to the nurse’s station and ask for something. They usually give you what you ask for as long as it doesn’t have strings or anything else that’s against the rules.” Ben explained. Mike could see that the other boy was growing tired and he didn’t want to keep him away from his bed any longer.

A calloused hand came to rest on the smaller boy’s shoulder and he smiled warmly. “Thank you for showing me around and being so friendly. I was kinda nervous but you make this a little less scary.” he smiled. Ben didn’t flinch away from the touch and instead he nodded a little. He looked like he was going to say something but a staff member came down the hall and ushered Ben to his room while thanking him for teaching Mike the ropes.

Mike asked the nurse if he could get some sweatpants from his bag and she told him that they’d have to cut out the strings if it had any. It made sense to Mike and he nodded, following the nurse to the nurse’s station. It took a few seconds for his bag to be located and a pair of sweatpants to be found in the clothes that his mother had packed for him. The nurse pulled the string out of the waist of the sweatpants and held them out for Mike. He walked back up the steps that led to the boy’s side of the unit and walked into the room that he was told was his.The room was filled with snores and Mike could see moonlight mixed with streetlights coming in through the window. Mike considered turning on the light but he decided to not disturb the sleeping boy.

Glancing at the figure sleeping in the bed closer to the window, Mike noticed that the boy seemed too big for the twin sized mattress. Curly hair was splayed across the pillow and Mike couldn’t help but laugh when he saw that the boy still had glasses resting on his nose. A white tank top twisted around pale skin and the white blanket that was provided by the hospital was tangled between long legs. Mike ducked into the attached bathroom and flipped on the light. The shower was a simple stall with a shower curtain attached to the ceiling. There was no rod for the curtain and the showerhead looked different than the one at home. The mirror seemed to be attached securely to the wall and Mike wondered if it was real glass when he changed into his sweatpants. Sleep came quicker than Mike thought it would. He thought the new environment would make it difficult but the whole day had been so exhausting that Mike fell asleep within moments of his head hitting the very flat pillow.

~~~

“It is seven thirty in the morning. The kitchen opens at seven thirty in the morning. Why is the kitchen still locked, Amanda?” A harsh voice pulled Mike out of his dreams. He looked over to see that the boy beside him was still asleep. The glasses seemed to have fallen onto the floor at some point during the night and with the sunlight creeping in, Mike could see a bruise forming on the boy’s cheek. He wondered how that got there. Stretching his arms over his head, Mike got out of the bed and poked his head out of his room to see a curly haired boy standing where the hallway split into four paths. A young looking woman with blonde hair stood in front of him with a tired look in her eyes and a clipboard in her hand.

“Stanley, I’ll open the kitchen when I finish room checks. We have this argument every morning.”

“We wouldn’t have this argument every morning if you guys knew how to follow a simple routine.” Stanley bit back. Mike studied the other boy for a moment and he found it out how the boy was dressed before most of the other patients were even awake. He was wearing a polo with some khaki pants. Mike noticed a cast on his foot and the other foot had a shoe missing it’s laces. It seemed to be such a strange contrast to how perfect everything else looked. Mike considered going out to talk to the boy but he remembered Ben’s advice about Bill and instead sat on the edge of his bed while he listened to the boy argue with the staff member. “Amanda, if you want to help me you’d follow the schedule.”

“Stanley you know that the whole point of you being here is to help you. I have to help everyone, though, and I’m not helping everyone if I’m ignoring room checks to monitor the kitchen so you can get your breakfast.”

“Why do you all think you have to monitor me in the kitchen? What do you think I’m going to kill myself with a banana?”

“Go to the nurse’s station and see if someone else can open the kitchen for you. I have to finish room checks.”

He could hear Stanley scoff and then he heard retreating footsteps. Mike assumed that Stanley had given in and gone to the nurse’s station. A few moments later there was a knock at his door before a friendly face poked in. “Room checks!” she chirped, smiling when she saw Mike sitting on his bed. “You can go sit in the dining area and wait for breakfast, honey. They take you all to school after breakfast.” Mike nodded and got up from his spot on the bed as the woman stepped into the room. “Richie! Rise and shine!” she said, picking the glasses up from the floor and holding them out to the sleeping boy.

“Amanda, I always tell you, there’s a much better way that you could wake me up.”

“Put your glasses on and go apologize to your roommate for your snoring.”

“I don’t have a roommate.”

“You got one last night.”

“Oh, shit! Well, I hope we can sure breakfast, m’love.”

Mike could hear Amanda laughing and then he felt an arm around his shoulders. He looked up to see the face of his roommate about even with his own. It was hard to tell if Richie was taller than him or if it was just his wild hair. “I’m Mike.” he said with a small smile as he walked in the direction of the dining hall. They didn’t get far before Stanley was walking down the opposite end of the hallway and he could hear him groan.

“Richie! We don’t all want to see your stained tank tops and dirty boxers! Go put some clothes on you walking garbage can.” The nurse seemed to consider intervening, but decided against it. Richie flipped Stanley off before Mike felt the arm leave his shoulders. Richie was mumbling under his breath before he shut the door to the shared room. Mike sat down at the picnic style table in the dining area and rested his elbows on the table.

“I wouldn’t put my elbows on that table if I were you. Richie spilled jelly on that table three days ago and I’m pretty sure it’s become a part of the table now.” Stanley said as he sat across from Mike. He pulled his elbows off the table and inspected the top of it. It was decorated with a variety of stains and there were some things carved into the top of it.

“Did we get another new kid overnight? I swear we’re going to run out of room in this fucking place. Can people stop trying to kill themselves?” a voice came from behind Mike. It was laced in sleep and a bit higher than Mike expected. He turned around to see a boy with messy hair and freckles across his nose. His hair was a chestnut brown and he was in red shorts with a rainbow along the side of it. He also had a sweater that seemed to practically hang off of him and socks pulled up to his mid-calf.

“If they catch you wearing Bill’s clothes again then they’ll kick you out and we’ll have room for another new kid, Eddie.”

“Shut the fuck up. I found this in the lost and found.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Keep talking and I’ll code again and throw off the entire schedule.”

Stanley opened his mouth to say something else but decided against it. Mike simply watched with curiosity as the smaller boy sat beside him. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes while he tucked his legs beneath him and his shoulder bumped against Mike’s. “I’m Eddie. That’s Stanley. He’s training to be a staff member here so he can just be in the psych ward for the rest of his life while the rest of us are trying to get on with our lives.”

“I’ll tell them that I saw you kissing Bill yesterday, Eddie.”

“You’re an asshole.”

The banter had a friendly tone to it, so Mike wasn’t sure if they were being serious or not. Neither boy seemed to offended by what the other was saying and they seemed to have a playful undertone. “I’m Mike.” he said after a few moments, looking between the two boys.

“Well, why are you here, Mike?” Eddie asked, resting his chin in his hands.

“Eddie you can’t just ask people that. That’s insensitive.” Stanley interjected with what sounded like a kick under the table. This only resulted in Eddie laughing since his legs were folded underneath him on the bench.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I--”

“Eds! Do you have any of your own clothes?” Richie’s voice came booming through the small dining area. He sat down beside Stan and Mike didn’t miss the way that Stan scooted away rom Richie a bit. Eddie made a face and tugged the sleeves of his sweater down over his hands. Richie began to tap out a rhythm on the table while he looked at the other’s seated at the table. “Where’s Big Bill and Haystack? Did they stay up all night again?”

“Probably. They’re going to hold us up, again.” Stanley muttered, brushing a loose curl away from his forehead.

“We left without them yesterday. We could probably do that again. It depends who is taking us.” Eddie explained, peering over his shoulder at the locked kitchen. “I’m starving. Did you ask them to open the kitchen, Stan?”

“Of course I asked them to open the kitchen. They told me to wait and that it wouldn’t be the end of the world if we were a couple minutes late. I already know it won’t be the end of the world because we’re a couple minutes late every day and somehow we still manage to sort of function.” Stanley explained.

Mike watched as Richie’s lower lip turned up before he pushed himself up from his seat next to Stan. “I’ll fix this.” he insisted with a smirk before his lanky limbs carried him out of the room. Eddie groaned and Stan rolled his eyes. Mike gave the other two a confused look, but he didn’t get a chance to hear an explanation before he heard Richie’s voice.

“We’re starving in there! Do you guys want us all to starve? Someone needs to open the kitchen before Eddie’s mom calls the news team on you guys for withholding food from her Eddie Bear!” Richie yelled.

“I’m going to fucking kill him.” Eddie mumbled, hiding his face in his hands. Ichie’s voice carried on throughout the unit until Mike heard footsteps coming towards them. He turned to see a man with short blond hair and some keys opening the kitchen door. The others got up and lined up outside the kitchen while the staff worker let them go in one at a time to get their breakfasts.

The staff member didn’t talk much and neither did the boys while they ate. Richie warned Mike about the food between mouthfuls of bland cornflakes mixed with honey while Eddie told him that he was disgusting. Stan had moved so he was diagonal from Richie and Eddie was across from him. This left the spot for Mike beside his roommate. He simply listened to Richie’s advice and ate his toast. His attention was brought back to the doorway when a tall, thin boy with auburn hair and dark circles under his eyes appeared. The boy sat beside Eddie and took a piece of toast off of the napkin beside Eddie’s bowl. The boy looked tired and his clothes seemed very worn. His hair almost reached his eyes and his knuckles were scarred. Mike opened his mouth to say something to the new boy, but he decided not to and instead took another bite of his toast.

“Boys! Line up! We’re leaving for school, if you aren’t lined up in the next thirty seconds then we’re leaving without you.”

“Oh, so now they want to follow a schedule.” Stanley mumbled as he took the last bite of his plain cheerios and threw away the bowl.

#mike hanlon #ben hanscom #stan uris #stanley uris #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #bill denbrough #it #it 2017 #it fanfiction #fanfiction #mike hanlon fanfiction #ben hanscom fanfiction #stan uris fanfiction #stanley uris fanfiction #richie tozier fanfiction #eddie kaspbrak fanfiction #bill denbrough fanfiction #mine. #mine #psych ward au

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @notcrypticbutcoy!

Read on AO3

*****

The More I Know You (The More I Want To)    

Magnus starts it…well not on a whim, per say. But it does just sort of happen one day, when he decides he’s going to restore the old Victorian house he lives in. The house stands on twelve acres of land in western Massachusetts and, while it was beautiful when his parents bought it (long before he came along), it’s since fallen into disrepair.

His parents passed away a year ago, and now every time he walks through the house he’s reminded of its potential. Of the potential they dreamed for it. So he finds himself sitting at the kitchen island one day, eating breakfast and scrolling through tile options on The Home Depot website.

Two hours later, he’s at the cash register with a cart full of tile, glue, faucets, drawer pulls, and curtain rods. The cashier smiles at Magnus as he rings him up. “Big project?” the man asks. His tag reads “Jace.”

Magnus smiles at the blonde teller and nods. “Yes! I’ve decided to update my house and figured I could start in the bathrooms.”

Jace quirks an eyebrow. “All on your own?”

“Actually, I was wondering if you knew any good handymen. I was going to look online but thought I might try word-of-mouth first.”

As Jace pushes buttons on the screen and tells Magnus his final total, he nods. “Actually, my brother, Alec, does some housework. He’s pretty good, helped me rewire my house last year. I can give you his number if you want?”

Magnus pays and loads his haul back into the carriage. “That would be fantastic.”

Jace grabs a slip of paper and writes down a ten-digit number. “Have a wonderful day,” he says with a smile, handing over Alec’s number.

---

“Hi, is this Alec?” Magnus paces in the small area of the first floor bathroom, stalling at the sink before turning and running into the half-demolished tub-slash-shower mess. He runs his hand through his already disheveled and plaster-dust-filled hair.

“Speaking…”

Magnus tilts his head back, eyes closed in silent thanks. “Jace at The Home Depot gave me your number. You’re a handyman, right?”

“That I am!” the voice on the other line confirms. “Do you have a project you need help with?”

Magnus chuckles. “Uh, you could say that. I’m knee-deep in some renovations and have discovered that not only is this a lot harder than I thought it would be, it also requires two people. And one of those people needs to have some basic knowledge of how to demo properly.” He closes his eyes again. “You wouldn’t happen to be free today to help me? I’m kind of stuck between a rock and a hard place. And I mean that almost literally.”

“Sure…but do you want to know my rates first so you can—?”

Magnus cuts him off. “Not to be rude, but if you’re as good as I need you to be then I’ll pay you whatever you want. I’m in quite the pickle right now and could use you ASAP.”

Alec pauses and then Magnus hears him ask, “What’s your address?”

---

Magnus….Magnus did not expect Alec to be this attractive. He just kind of stands there, looking at the exceedingly handsome, well-built Alec, while the handyman stands in the entrance of the bathroom surveying the damage. Magnus tries not to stare at the muscles peeking out from beneath the sleeves of Alec’s black tee or at the toned legs shown off by Alec’s jean shorts. And he tries valiantly to keep his cool when Alec turns his teenage-dream-boat eyes to Magnus. He fails epically.

“This is a lot of damage already for such a small person,” Alec remarks, a hint of a joke in his tone.

Magnus blinks at him. “I promise to not take offense to that if you promise to help even now that you’ve seen the damage.”

Alec grins at his new boss and nods. “Fair enough. Sounds like a deal to me.” He steps over the huge pile of tiles (using his long legs that have not gone unnoticed by Magnus because damn) and stops in front of the shorter man. “So you’re trying to replace the…?” He quirks his eyebrow, waiting for Magnus to fill in the gaps.

Magnus smiles. “What, you can’t tell by the mess?” His grin falls and he shrugs. “Ok fine. No, you can’t tell by the mess. I was hoping to replace the shower unit with tile instead of that ugly white plastic. Also the faucet in the sink, the drawer pulls on the cabinet, the showerhead….there’s something I’m forgetting…oh! The flooring!” He looks down at his feet and taps the toes of his shoes against the bright blue ceramic tile. “Ugly fucking floor,” he mutters under his breath.

Alec must hear him, because the next thing Magnus knows, the man is guffawing. The sound resonates around the small room and Magnus can’t help but join in, the sound contagious. “That really is a lot of damage for someone with no experience.”

“How do you know I don’t have any experience?” Alec quirks an eyebrow and Magnus nods. “Point taken. So? Where do we start?”

Alec grins. “Well, we start by you stepping over this pile and leaving me to work on this.”

Magnus frowns. “Well, I sort of wanted to work on this, too.”

Alec nods. “I understand, but there’s really only enough space in here for one person…and that person needs to have a clue what they’re doing.” He surveys the damage again, thinking. “How about this? I’ll work on clearing this out while you do…whatever you want to do. And when I’m ready to start laying the tile down you can come in and tell me where you want things to go. And you can help lay the tile if you promise to do it exactly how I tell you to.”

“I suppose that’ll work. I’ll just be in the office, then.” He turns to leave and then reverses course. “You’ll come get me?”

Alec looks up from where he’s squatting down, hands full of plaster. “Of course I will. These tiles are heavy and I don’t feel like bending to pick them up. I could use an assistant.” He winks at Magnus and then turns to get to work.

---

“So what prompted the renovations?” Alec asks an hour later.

Apparently, he wasn’t kidding about the helping, and Magnus hands him another tile before responding. “My parents have been gone for a year and I grew up in this house with them. I had the money and the time and I guess I wanted to honor their investment by making it a little nicer.” He shrugs. “The house hasn’t been the same since they died.”

Alec looks up at him after placing another tile on the wall. “I’m sorry if I brought up any negative emotions.”

He looks sincere and so Magnus smiles wanly. “You didn’t know. It’s ok…this house holds a lot of great memories for me. And honestly I think they would want me to do this. They always complained about how the house was falling apart.” He bends to pick up another tile and tilts his head as he looks at the ones on the wall. “Do those look crooked to you?”

Alec’s eyebrow shoots up. “My work is perfect. Your head is crooked.”

Magnus grins and hands him the tile. They work in silence for a while longer. Magnus’ stomach growls loudly and he inspects the time on his phone. “Can I get you anything for lunch?”

Alec, who crouches over a plastic jug to mix grout, pauses to look at Magnus over his shoulder. “You don’t have to do that.”

Magnus waves him off. “I’m going to order sandwiches from a shop in town and go pick them up. What would you like?”

“A BLT? Mustard, no mayo. And a Pepsi?”

Magnus grins. “Got it. Will you be ok here until I get back?”

Alec nods and turns back to mixing the grout. “I’ll be here. Might be able to finish up the shower before you get back.”

“Perfect! I’ll see you in a bit.”

---

On the drive to town Magnus realizes two very important things. The first is that he’s going to need to keep Alec around for a while because this is going to take a lot longer than he expected. And the second is that, if he’s not extremely careful, he could find himself falling headlong in love with Alec.

He lists all of the adjectives he thinks describe Alec (gorgeous, witty, intelligent, gifted, strong, compassionate) in his mind while he pays for the sandwiches and then spends the entire car ride back wishing he hadn’t. Because Alec is exactly the type of guy Magnus would fall for and he seriously can’t spend the next few weeks ogling his handyman at every turn.

He thinks, though, as he hands over the sandwich to Alec who takes it with a smile, that they could become friends.

---

“Did you have a plan at all when you started this?” Alec asks over lunch. In the time Magnus was gone, Alec managed to redo the tile in the shower. He’d emerged triumphantly when Magnus arrived with the sandwiches, taking his lunch gladly and proclaiming his genius.

“Of course I did. I wouldn’t start a project without a plan or an end goal.” He shrugs and takes a sip of his soda. “I just underestimated how much work it would be.”

Alec nods. “That’s what they all say.”

“How long have you been a handyman?”

“It’s been a while. I finished high school and my parents tried to push me down one path but I ended up forging my own. I’ve always been good with my hands.”

Magnus bites his tongue on the many lines of innuendo he wants to spew out. Instead he comments, “The bathroom does look great so far. When you’re finished with that do you think you can help me reno the kitchen?”

Alec looks around at the vintage cabinets, the art deco ceiling, the granite countertops. “Uh…what is it you want to renovate in here?” he asks dubiously.

Magnus sets down his sandwich. “I’ll show you.”

Twenty minutes later Alec is shaking his head and batting at Magnus’s hands to push him back and away from the plans on the table. “First of all, this ceiling is amazing and you just can’t do anything with it. And the cabinets are perfectly fine so don’t touch those either.” He starts to sketch something and cuts off Magnus’s protests. “You can, however, move the island back farther and do something with this wall separating the kitchen and the living room. It’s not load baring and it would open the space up more.”

“And I suppose you could do all this?”

Alec looks up with a smile. “I could, but it’ll take some time. You might be stuck with me for a month or so.”

Magnus shrugs nonchalantly, even though his smile ruins it. “I can think of worse things.”

---

Magnus likes having Alec in the house. He likes it a lot. Alec is even more amazing after two weeks than after two hours. So far, Magnus has helped him finish laying the tile on the bathroom floor, change the showerhead and faucet, and dismantle the current island in the kitchen. And they haven’t stopped talking the entire time.

“Is ‘Alec’ short for anything?”

“Yeah, Alexander.”

Magnus snorts. “Alexander the Great. What a fitting title.” He grunts as he shoulders one end of solid oak used in the construction of the kitchen island. On the other end of the plank Alec just shakes his head and lifts one hand to brush his hair from his eyes. He holds the plank easily in one hand.

“Lift with your knees, Magnus,” Alec says instead of retorting. Magnus just huffs.

While they’re covering the furniture in the living room with tarps to protect from demolition dust Magnus gets curious about Alec’s business. “So, you’ve been here Monday through Friday from ten until five for the past two weeks.”

Alec looks up at him over the back of one of the sofas. “Yes?”

“Do you not have any other clients?”

Alec smiles and looks down at his hands, smoothing out the tarp. “None that are this much fun to work with. Plus, the renovations you’re doing now are extensive enough that I don’t need to take on any other jobs at the moment.”

“So I have you all to myself.”

It’s kind of said in an undertone and Alec isn’t quite sure if he’s supposed to hear it. But he still smiles and says, “I guess you do.”

Magnus looks up at him. “What would you like for lunch today?” he asks instead of commenting on what may have been (what he hopes was) a moment between them.

---

Magnus cackles wildly as he brings down the sledgehammer against the wall once again. Dust and debris flies everywhere, ricocheting off the safety goggles Alec made him wear. His eyes are bright with joy when he looks over at Alec.

“Having fun?” Alec asks. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest like he’s waiting for Magnus to get tired and for the real demolition to begin. But he has a wide smile on his face and Magnus thinks they’ve crossed another threshold in their friendship. There’s something about the smile, like it’s a mixture of fond and fed-up that can really only be achieved once feelings get involved.

Magnus presents the hammer to Alec. “That was the most fun I’ve had in years.”

“You definitely need to get out more.” Alec keeps smiling as he says it, though, and takes the hammer. “Please stand back while the real professional works.”

Magnus rolls his eyes. “And when does she show up?”

Alec pauses with the hammer on his shoulder. “Are you questioning my abilities while I have a sledge hammer on my shoulder?”

Magnus chuckles. “No, of course I’m not,” he sarcastically tosses over his shoulder as he saunters out of the room. He can just barely hear the sound of Alec’s laughter over the hammer hitting plaster.

---

“So Jace tells me you haven’t taken any other clients in two months,” Isabelle says easily around her mug of coffee.

Alec rolls his eyes. “I’m allowed to run my business however I want to.”

“Run it straight into the ground for all I care. What I want to know is who is this mystery guy?”

“He’s…I don’t know, Iz, he’s great.” Alec blushes and takes a sip of coffee while Isabelle squeals in delight. “I’ve never met someone quite like him.”

“You like him! That’s amazing, Big Bro! Have you put the moves on him yet?” She waggles her eyebrows.

“It’s…there hasn’t been a right time. We’re just friends right now. Close, but friends.”

Isabelle rolls her eyes. “There’s gotta be more than that if he keeps making up projects for you.”

Alec shrugs. “The kitchen is almost done. He’s probably just going to pay me for that work and then send me on my way.”

“Yeah, but if he doesn’t that means that he still wants you around. Just go for it!”

Alec sips his coffee. “Maybe.”

---

“Do you think you can help me renovate the master bathroom and bedroom?” Magnus asks one morning while Alec’s measuring out the wood for the kitchen island. He’s standing in the (one unaltered) doorframe clutching his cup of coffee to his chest.

Alec looks up at him. “It’s going to be another few weeks of work.”

Magnus takes a sip of his coffee. “Good. I’ve started to enjoy having you around.”

Alec smiles, his heart skipping a beat, and looks down at the wood in his hands. “Why don’t you put that coffee down and come help me measure?”

Magnus snorts. “Right, cause that went so well the first time.”

“Just shut up and come over here.”

Magnus rolls his eyes but he’s smiling once he makes his way through the construction and debris. “Where do you want me?”

Alec grabs his arm and gently pulls him over where he’s standing. His arms form a cage around Magnus and they’re standing chest to back facing the wood. Magnus stops breathing. “This is your ruler,” Alec states, lifting Magnus’s left hand and placing it on the metal ruler. “And this is your pencil.” Alec folds a pencil into Magnus’s right hand. “Put the ruler on the end and measure six inches in.”

Magnus is hyper-focused on Alec’s touch surrounding him, his warm hands on his and his warm chest pressing into his back. He can even feel Alec’s breath on his ear as he leans over his shoulder. “Here?” Magnus asks, pressing his pencil down.

“Right here is perfect,” Alec replies quietly.

Magnus reads the double meaning in the statement and tries not to blush too furiously as he makes the mark. “Well this has all been very educational—“ he begins, turning in Alec’s arms. He’s stopped by their proximity, faces now inches away from each other, and looks down at Alec’s lips distractedly.

“I’ve always been told I’m a good teacher,” Alec says lowly, also staring at Magnus’s lips. His tongue comes out to wet his as he leans down toward Magnus, pulled by the gravity between them.

Magnus wants to lean in and seal their lips together but something is still holding him back. He leans away with a small apologetic smile. “I need to go do some of my own work. Thanks for the lesson.” He nudges past Alec’s arm and walks away but can’t help turning around and checking on Alec before he leaves the room. “Maybe you can teach me something else tomorrow.”

Alec looks up with a smile on his face. “I’ll be here for a while, right? Plenty of time to show you everything I know.”

Magnus picks up his mug and walks out of the room. He pauses in the hallway to lean his head against the wall and just breathe.

---

“Do you like him?” Catarina asks him over the phone. Magnus can hear the smirk in her voice.

“Gee, let’s think. I’ve been talking about him non-stop for three months and I keep making up projects so he’ll stay. Yeah, Cat, I think I like him.” He pauses, reconsiders, admits “I think I love him” in a quieter voice, full of vulnerability.

“Oh, honey, you’ve got it bad. But if you feel this way why haven’t you told him? You said he’s made moves on you, right?”

“Yes…”

“Well, why don’t you just let it happen?’

Magnus sighs and thumps his head back on the guest room bed. He’s been using this room since they started master bed and bath renovations. “I don’t know. Because I’m afraid it’ll end badly? What if he doesn’t love me, too, Cat?”

“Sounds to me like he does.”

“Maybe…”

Catarina sighs. “You want my advice? Go get him. Next time he makes a move don’t run away from him just go with it. I’m willing to bet you won’t be disappointed.”

Magnus nods. “You’re probably right. Thanks dear.”

She snorts. “Of course I’m right. Why else would you be calling me? Love you!”

---

Ultimately, it’s Magnus’s decision to rewire the house that brings them together. It’s…not his best idea. And he’s lucky Alec was coming over on his day off just to spend time with Magnus because something goes terribly, horribly wrong.

Alec pulls into the driveway just as lights in the living room start to flicker. He throws the truck in park and bolts into the house, his feet barely touching the ground. He finds Magnus lying on his back in the living room. When he presses his fingers to his neck he can’t feel a pulse.

Alec’s heart almost stops beating at the thought that Magnus might be dead. He dials 911 and puts the phone on speaker as he starts CPR. “911, what is your emergency?”

“I’m at 1149 Harkness Road. There’s a thirty-year-old man who was trying to rewire his house and got shocked. I can’t feel a pulse and I’m doing CPR,” Alec speaks quickly but clearly as he presses down on Magnus’s chest. The emergency service technician is speaking to him but he’s not listening, focusing entirely on keeping Magnus alive.

“Damn you,” he mumbles under his breath. Magnus doesn’t respond. Alec pulls back, takes a deep breath, and seals his lips around Magnus’s, pushing air into his lungs. He takes another breath and does it again before going back to compressions. “Come back to me,” he begs.

He gets through two more sets before panic starts to set in. He presses harder on Magnus’s chest and sends a prayer out to the universe before pressing his lips to Magnus’s again.

He doesn’t realize what’s happening at first. But then Magnus’s tongue presses against his and he’s now no longer performing mouth-to-mouth. Now it’s a full-on kiss. He pulls back with wide eyes and stares down at Magnus.

“You’re alive!” Alec breathes. “He’s alive!” he says loud enough for the phone to pickup even as he hears sirens in the distance.

Magnus blinks up at him, stunned. “What happened? Were you kissing me?”

Alec shakes his head. “You idiot.” And then he leans down and kisses Magnus properly because his heart is beating a mile a minute and he almost just lost this imperfect and ridiculous human and he can’t bear that thought. So he kisses Magnus softly and brushes his hair back from his forehead when he pulls back.

The paramedics come in after that and Alec follows them to the hospital. He waits for an hour until they’re done checking Magnus over and he can go into the room. “So apparently I have no idea how to rewire a house,” Magnus says sheepishly.

Alec shakes his head. “You scared me.” He walks over to the bed slowly, still talking. “What the hell were you thinking? Were you even thinking? You could have died, Magnus. Do you understand? I told you not to touch the wiring. Will you ever listen to me?” He reaches the bed.

Magnus grabs him by the shirt and reels him in for a kiss, because all he heard in Alec’s entire speech were the words I love you repeated over and over in six different ways. “I’m sorry,” he whispers against Alec’s lips.

“Moron,” Alec replies, though the insult is diminished by the fondness in his voice and the smile on his face.

A tiny voice sounds at the door behind them. “Knock, knock.” Alec turns to see an adorable nurse (she’s so tiny and there’s no way she’s much older than Alec) standing in the doorway looking sheepishly at them. “Sorry, gentlemen, just need to check on Mr. Bane here.” Alec steps back from the bed and she smiles at him. “Excuse me.”

“Do you think I’ll live?” Magnus asks, all serious. Alec wants to reach out and choke him. Too soon he mouths behind the nurse’s shoulder.

“Just barely, thanks to the person who saved your life,” the nurse responds, tilting her head in Alec’s direction. Alec nods in a ‘she knows what’s what’ sort of way. Magnus just grins at him.

“Am I cleared to leave?”

She shakes her head. “Not just yet, sorry. The doctor wants to keep you overnight to be certain you’re ok. I’m the overnight nurse on call, so if you need anything just press the button and ask for Clary.” She turns to Alec. “Good work saving him. I’ve known him all of five seconds and I can already tell he’s a pain.” She winks at him and walks out.

“Hey! What about bedside manner?” Magnus calls after her.

Alec chuckles. “Well I guess I’ll leave you to rest up for tonight. I’ll come back tomorrow to pick you up after they discharge you?”

Magnus nods and reaches out a hand. “Thank you for saving my life,” he says sincerely. “And I solemnly swear to never touch live wires ever again.” He squeezes Alec’s hand. Alec squeezes back and then they just sort of stay like that, looking at each other, until Magnus breaks first and bites his lip. “So, the kissing thing is nice,” he says.

Alec smiles back. “It’s much better when you’re fully conscious and not trying to lick my tonsils.”

Magnus drops his hand to throw both of his into the air. “I try to say one nice thing and you have to go and be all sarcastic about it.”

Alec’s laughing, though, and pulling Magnus’s hands back down onto the bed. “Calm down or they’ll keep you for longer than a night. Yes, the kissing is nice. And when I bring you back home tomorrow maybe we can continue it horizontally.”

Magnus quirks an eyebrow. “Oh yes, I think that can be arranged.” They lock eyes for a second and then both break down into laughter.

“I should go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Kiss for the road?” Magnus asks. Alec bites his lip and then leans down to kiss Magnus gently but thoroughly. “Damn,” Magnus whispers when he pulls back.

“Rest up,” Alec demands as he heads out of the room. He can’t fight the grin on his face.

When he gets to the parking lot, Alec pulls out his cell phone and calls his brother. “Hey, Jace, I need your help tonight. Think you’re up to pulling an all-nighter for the job I’m working?”

---

“So this is Magnus, huh?” Jace asks, studying the family picture on the wall. Alec remembers Magnus telling him about it, the happy photo of him and his parents smiling and laughing together. It was a candid photo during the last family photography session they ever had.

Alec stops next to Jace, arms full of wooden planks, and smiles. “Yeah, that’s Magnus.” He’s so happy in the picture, face lit up with joy, that Alec can’t help but smile.

Jace catches the expression on his face and rolls his eyes. “You’re so fucking in love it’s disgusting.”

Alec slaps him with the boards. “Shut up and follow me.”

They work through the night, finishing the painting and laying the wooden flooring. Alec already finished the master bath a week ago and the lighting in the room is done. All in all it looks warm and homey, even without furniture. “Not bad,” Jace says with a nod as he surveys their work.

“Come on, let’s work on the kitchen island while everything dries and sets.”

By the time eleven am rolls around and Magnus is texting Alec for a ride home, the furniture is back in the master bedroom and the kitchen island is three-quarters finished. Alec claps Jace on the shoulder. “Thanks for the help.”

Jace, expression exhausted, just nods. “Only because you love him.” He points at Alec. “And only because he almost died. You know you’re going to have to fill Izzy in about all this eventually, right?”

Alec groans and ushers Jace out of the house, locking up quickly. “Maybe if I stay away and keep hiding she’ll never know?”

Jace chuckles. “Like that would ever work. She’s Izzy.”

Alec waves him off and climbs into his car to head to the hospital. He parks in the lot and finds Magnus checking out at the front counter. Alec also notices a familiar head of red hair. “Hi, Magnus,” Alec says as he walks up to them.

“Hi Alec!” the nurse, Clary, greets. “Magnus and I were just talking about you. Well…we kind of didn’t stop talking about you all night.”

Alec’s eyebrows shoot up and he turns his gaze on Magnus, who’s looking sheepishly back at him. “I was bored. You know how it is. And it was a slow night for her so Clary and I stayed up chatting.” He yawns. “And as a result I didn’t get much sleep. The guest bedroom still has a mattress for me when we get home, right?”

Alec thinks of the surprise he has for Magnus but nods anyways. “Yeah, it’s still there until the master is finished.” He smiles at Clary. “Sorry he kept you from your work. Magnus doesn’t really have a concept of other people’s time.”

Magnus rolls his eyes and scoffs while Clary just giggles. “Oh, please, Alexander. Clary and I are great friends. She even added me on facebook.” He takes Alec’s hand and laces their fingers together. “But you are right. We should get home. It was lovely to meet you, Biscuit.” Magnus wraps his free arm around Clary and then lets Alec pull him away.

“How are you feeling?” Alec asks on the drive home.

Magnus shrugs. “Like I got electrocuted, died, and was brought to life by my boyfriend.”

Alec looks at him. “So we’re dating?”

Magnus rolls his eyes. “Unless you kiss every person you work for.”

“You mean you don’t kiss everyone who works on your house? My brother’s going to be so offended.”

Magnus scoffs but then hones in on part of Alec’s sentence. “Wait, when did your brother work on the house?”

Alec shrugs noncommittally and doesn’t respond. Magnus frowns but drops it. They’re almost home anyways.

---

“You’re kidding.”

Alec’s standing behind Magnus, arms wrapped around his waist and head lowered to rest his chin on Magnus’s shoulder. “Jace, my brother, helped. Do you like it?”

Magnus spins in his arms and locks his hands together around Alec’s neck. “I almost died and you saved me and yet instead of waiting for me to do something for you, you came here and did something for me?” Magnus pulls him down and kisses him. “Of course I like it.”

Alec leans down to kiss him again, except Magnus yawns and breaks the moment. He looks sheepish and sorry about it, but Alec can’t help the fond smile that breaks out on his face. “Let’s take a nap,” he suggests.

Magnus nods and slides out of his embrace. “A nap sounds like exactly what I need.” He kicks off his shoes before walking into the finished bedroom and walks into the closet to change into pajama pants. Before he gets too far with changing, he grabs a pair of his larger sweatpants and throws them out to Alec.

They climb into bed together; Magnus curls up against Alec and shivers at how warm his body is. They fit together easily and being in bed like this is just as easy as every conversation they’ve had since Alec saved Magnus in his bathroom all those weeks ago. Alec kisses the top of Magnus’s head and smiles down at him.

Magnus pulls him closer. “I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship,” he mumbles sleepily.

Alec chuckles. “Just go to sleep.” But there’s a smile in his voice and on his face, and he pulls Magnus just a little bit closer. Right before Magnus dozes off, he hears Alec whisper, “I’m so glad I didn’t lose you.” And he thinks he might hear Alec whisper, “I love you,” but he’s already half-passed-out and it might be his imagination.

Alec stares down at Magnus, running his fingers through his hair and thinking about what he just said to this man. The words feel heavy in his mouth, but still right. “Maybe I’ll tell you for real when we wake up,” Alec muses. He doesn’t think for much longer, though, as his own sleep deprivation pulls him under.

It’s the best either of them has slept in a long time.

#notcrypticbutcoy #malecsanta17 #*fic17 #*gifts17

[supershoppinglust]

6 SHOWER CURTAIN IDEAS FOR SMALL BATHROOMS

Everybody dreams of having a spacious bathroom in their home but nowadays, every home has that one bathroom which is so small in size that you feel like you have come to a garment shop’s trial room. It’s hard to believe for you that a bathroom can be so small in size. But do you know, there are several ways through which you can make your small bathroom look larger & spacious in size? For example, getting a shower curtain that’ll make your space seem open and inviting.

Shower curtains are an essential element to any bathroom with a tub or shower stall. There are numerous types of shower curtains to choose from for the bathroom so selecting one is not as easy as you might think. Each type and style has its own features, so you should take a look at several options before you decide which one is the best for your bathroom. Various designs, patterns, patterns and fabrics are available in shower curtains.

Whether you wish to update the look of your decor or simply want something reliable to repel moisture and also keep water off your bathroom tile, the ideal shower curtain should be both functional and attractive. This guide will help you narrow down your options so you can choose a curtain that suits your particular needs.

1.      CLEAR SHOWER CURTAIN

A clear waterproof shower curtain, made with heavyweight vinyl just keeps water away from splashing onto your bathroom floor. This curtain would prevent deterioration from mold and mildew, thereby extending the useful life of the liner. Vinyl material reduces movement and keeps the liner close to the tub. It measures 72 x 72 inches for full coverage and also includes plastic curtain hooks for easy hanging. The transparent curtain helps the light move through your room and allows you to see deeper into your space, making your bathroom look bigger. Also, it is very easy to handle, as you simply have to wipe it with mild soap and water for a quick and easy clean.

2.      COTTON FABRIC SHOWER CURTAIN

Cotton shower curtains are usually the most common choice people make while selecting a shower curtain for their bathrooms. A calm and composed design or a solid color design over your cotton fabric curtain just makes a relaxing beach vibe to your bathroom decor. Cotton as a fabric is easy to maintain as you can easily wash it in a machine and it does not need ironing. Also, it does not contain the vinyl smell and easily drapes on the outside of the tub. Most cotton curtains have buttonholes at the top so that it is easy to assemble the hooks and hang on a standard shower rod. Therefore, you can certainly choose a cotton shower curtain for your bathroom.

3.      TEXTURED SHOWER CURTAIN

While some textured shower curtains can look heavy in small bathrooms but if you choose a lightweight and thin polyester fabric curtain, it will be an ideal piece for your bathroom. A shower curtain that is soft with an allover textured, ruffled, floral design can definitely enhance your space. This shower curtain is fabric mildew and heat resistant. It’s also machine washable so you can always keep your shower curtains clean and looking like new. But due to the delicate nature of the design, this item is dry clean recommended. So to make any shower and bathroom look neat, modern, and elegant, one can anytime give a try to the textured shower curtain.

4.      KNIT SHOWER CURTAIN

This Soft waffle-weave knit shower curtain with a pattern evokes a luxurious, spa-like feel which brings luxury hotel style to your bath. It is made from 100% durable polyester fabric. When you touch it, it gives you a cotton feel as polyester is a heavyweight fabric which means very heavy duty. Water glides off and dries quickly, ensures that your solid white waffle shower curtain remains fresh and clean. You can easily take care of this shower curtain as it is machine washable in cold water, gentle cycle, and tumble dry. This knit shower curtain would give an elegant drape with generous size 70-inch width by 72-inch length, an upscale look to your small-sized bathroom.

5.      PATTERNED SHOWER CURTAIN

This bathroom shower curtain is perfect for keeping the bathroom clean during a shower. It is a printed light teal patterned fabrics long size bath drapes, made of a 100% soft, durable polyester fabric that is easily washed. This shower curtain can add some flair to a plain, small bathroom while still making your space feel open. It strikes the right balance between sheer and opaque, so it will still let some light into your shower without being completely see-through.

6.      HOOKLESS SHOWER CURTAIN

Hanging up a shower curtain has never been easier! Effortlessly hook up the shower curtain in seconds thanks to these hook free design. Hookless shower curtains are the perfect choice for modern-styled bathrooms ceiling-track curtain rods. It is designed with built-in grommets, hook less curtains slip easily over shower curtain rods for a seamless look, while eliminating the need for additional curtain rings. These curtains are available in a variety of fun patterns and colors, and many hookless shower curtain designs include built-in liners for added convenience.

A new shower curtain can instantly transform a bathroom. Whichever color, pattern or texture you choose; it can have a dramatic effect. Go ahead, get more space in your bathroom with these ideas and see how your bathroom will instantly look better!

#https://www.xerve.in/

[guestcanpost]

Necessary Things Should have in Your Modern Bathroom

Do you realize how people tell your restroom is a sanctuary? And you ought to ultimately regard it this way. Consider it: You invest such a vast amount of money and time in that room — taking a bath, brushing your teeth, washing your face, putting on your cosmetics, doing your hair. So is there any right reason why you wouldn't have any desire to stock your washroom completely? No, we aren't looking at loading up on bathroom tissue or Q-tips; and no, we aren't going so extraordinary as to recommend unnecessary items like double bidets or a warmed latrine seat. We're talking basic restroom needs: a hand towel to utilize while cleaning your hands, a shower floor covering for when you're venturing out of the shower, a vanity reflector — a cracking rubbish can, for the good of Pete. In this way, here's our list of 12 restroom basics, including all that you'd need from washing and additional capacity to cleaning supplies you ought to have close by consistently.

1. Shower Curtain

Except if you have glass entryways that cover your stall or close before your tub, a shower curtain is an absolute necessity. Shower window ornaments come in pretty much every shading, texture, and pattern you can consider. In a little restroom with constrained space, it might be one of only a handful scarcely any odds you need to flaunt your style! Ensure it's the correct width for your tub or stall and that you have the right sort of rod and hooks to hang it on.

2. High-Quality Towels

It's always a smart thought to have a heap of new, crisp towels for your visitors. No one appreciates utilizing old, threadbare towels. Regardless of whether it's only a washcloth and hand towel for a half-restroom, ensure you have new (or practically new) things to give your visitors. Get something sumptuous and delicate; Turkish cotton makes the best extravagance towels. To stay away from potential skin reactions, wash your towels with hypoallergenic cleanser. Overlay them flawlessly in a heap (or cause a swan if you to can) and place them on the toilet seat or vanity.

3. Minimize Mess, Maximize Storage

Being of small size, a restroom is intended to keep heaps of things, including things you utilize day by day, incidentally, week after week, or just when you become ill. Right now, it is very entangled to get them sorted out in a manner to be handily snatched whenever you require them. Cut back your toiletries – it is improbable that a group of three would require 8 shower towels, 4 hair conditioners, 5 cleanser bottles, and considerably more ointments. So the standard number one for a messiness contender is to dispose of extreme things in a restroom. Check the timeframe of the realistic usability expiry date and toss terminated toiletries out. Remove great stuff in a cabinet and utilize it just when required. – Add some racks – in a spot with little space, even a corner or a wall specialty matter. Utilize it by appending some shelves there, which are useful for storing towels or different supplies.

4. Toilet Paper Stand

Ensure there's in every case additional tissue close enough on the off chance that the roll runs out. This stand makes that conceivable, while additionally giving your visitor restroom a stylish flair.

5. Add Fresh Flowers and Plants

Nothing causes a space to feel like home like a bundle of new cut flowers or pick some from garage sale. Set up beautiful blossoms not long before your visitors show up. It will cause them to feel unique, and it will give your visitor washroom a style of help. White and pastels are tremendous and foolproof, yet you can likewise set out with more shading on the off chance that it suits the space. If you realize your guests' preferred blossoms, it could be a decent decision, as well.

6. Toilet Brush

Remember to keep a toilet brush and additionally plunger close by if there should be an occurrence of an emergency. Trust us—your visitors will always be appreciated.

7. 4-Piece Bathroom Hardware Towel Accessories

At the point when the family is big, and the towels are various, you will require enough racks and hangs to maintain them in control. You can practically arrange restroom accessories, upscale and comprises of 4 useful yet various things. At the point when the last screw is trapped, appreciate sorted out towels in your restroom!

8. Diffuser

An aroma that keeps the washroom smelling decent and crisp can have a significant effect. The diffuser is pretty so that it won't conflict with your interiors.

9. Swing Towel Bars

If you are a fan of minimalistic design with no gimmickry, at that point, you may like this basic 4 of every 1 bar. They are just 13.8 inches long; however, they can securely hold 4 little to large towels. Due to being smaller, this bar set can be mounted wherever in a restroom and effectively take care of the issue of dissipated towels.

10. Comfortable Floor Mat

Another brisk and minimal effort approach to tidy up your washroom's style is to change an old, exhausting shower mat for something somewhat more vivid, vibrant, and delicate. Since no one loves strolling on a cold floor in the night, it's additionally a matter of comfort for your visitors. A basic, non-slip microfibre shag in a shading that matches your restroom is a natural choice. They're incredibly flexible, feel delicate underneath, and the microfibre dries rapidly, which implies less mildew covered scents. Another option is flexible foam shower mats, which are entirely agreeable to remain on over extensive stretches. If your visitors invest a great deal of time doing their hair or putting on cosmetics, this sort of mat would be high.

11. Hand Soap

Purchase your fluid hand cleanser in mass, that arrives for a situation of six, to set aside cash and consistently have some prepared when your visitors come. We love soap's lavender scent.

12. Box Organizer for Vitamins

On the off chance that classic wellbeing supplement holders you have an assortment of pill rankles, bundles, and other strange structures tranquilize bottles that can't stand, at that point, lie them down in a helpful, clear box. This is an incredible option in contrast to dispersed stuff. Stackable boxes are prepared to keep your cabinet efficient and clean. Read the full article

#bath #bathroom #elements #home

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BEST BLACK WAFFLE SHOWER CURTAINS

# Preview Product Rating 1

Barossa Design Extra Long Waffle Weave Shower Curtain 71" W... 2,480 Reviews Check Discounted Price 2

mDesign Hotel Quality Polyester/Cotton Blend Fabric Shower... No ratings yet Check Discounted Price 3

AmazerBath Waffle Shower Curtain, Heavy Duty Fabric Shower... 216 Reviews Check Discounted Price 4

Hanhao Shower Curtain of Dobby Texture with Rustproof Metal... No ratings yet Check Discounted Price 5

CAROMIO Black Fabric Shower Curtain, Hotel Quality Waffle... No ratings yet Check Discounted Price 6

mDesign Premium 100% Cotton Waffle Weave Fabric Shower... No ratings yet Check Discounted Price 7

Shower Curtain Waffle Dark Grey Fabric Bathroom Curtain... No ratings yet Check Discounted Price 8

MAYTEX TEX Double Roller Glide Hooks Shower Curtain Rings,... 14,896 Reviews Check Discounted Price 9

Dainty Home Waffle Weave Ombre Stripe Fabric Shower... 18 Reviews Check Discounted Price 10

mDesign Long Premium 100% Cotton Waffle Weave Fabric Shower... No ratings yet Check Discounted Price

We always keep receiving tons of questions related to buyers who are going to buy BEST BLACK WAFFLE SHOWER CURTAINS. Because spending money on quality products is important, Jack will help you to get your best-desired product which you are searching for. There are lots of questions in mind such as

What are Top 10 BLACK WAFFLE SHOWER CURTAINS for 2020 for 2021 or even 2019 (The older Models)?

What is the best Place to buy?

Is the product we referring Assured & Justifies its price?

Before deciding to buy any products, make sure you research & read carefully the buying guide from the amazon else or from trusted sources. We will not repeat it here to save time.

We will assist you to know how and What things you should consider while buying and Where to buy for the best results. Just consider our rankings above as a suggestion. The final choice is yours, Give a look to listed products below.

THE LIST OF 10 BEST BLACK WAFFLE SHOWER CURTAINS ARE FOLLOW:

#1 BestSeller

2,480 Reviews

Barossa Design Extra Long Waffle Weave Shower Curtain 71" W...

Hotel Luxury: Soft waffle-weave shower curtain with diamond pattern evokes a luxurious, spa-like feel, brings luxury hotel style to your bath

High Quality: Touches like a cotton feel, heavyweight fabric with 230 GSM (gram per square meter) means very heavy duty, crafted with premium fabric ensures long-last use and durability. Elegant and upscale look easy to...

Serve Well: Water glides off and dries quickly, ensures that your black waffle shower curtain remains fresh and clean. Reinforced top header, rust-resistant metal grommets and fade-resistant fabric make these as functional as...

Simple & Contemporary: No coating fabric material, simple shower curtains for bathroom

Easy Care: Machine washable in cold water, gentle cycle, tumble dry. Cool iron if needed. Elegant drape with generous size 71-inch width by 84-inch length, fits your special xlong sized shower/bath

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#2 BestSeller

mDesign Hotel Quality Polyester/Cotton Blend Fabric Shower...

PREMIUM QUALITY: Heavy-weight woven fabric construction prevents the curtain from billowing; Perfectly sized for most bathtubs and shower stalls; Drapes beautifully for a clean, fresh look in your bathroom

ELEGANT & CLASSIC STYLING: Features a waffle weave pattern designed after luxury hotel shower curtains; Soft hand feel; Sturdy top hem with rust-resistant metal grommets; Holds up to daily use; Instantly upgrades any bath to...

SIMPLE INSTALLATION: Each curtain contains 12 rust-resistant grommets that fit most standard shower hooks or rings (not included), and the generous size is sure to fit most bathtubs and showers; Machine washable to keep mold...

QUALITY CONSTRUCTION: Made of a 65% polyester and 35% cotton blend; Easy care - machine wash cold, gentle cycle; Tumble dry low for worry-free maintenance that keeps it looking like new; Warm iron as needed; Use of a liner is...

THOUGHTFULLY SIZED: Measures 72" x 72" long

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#3 BestSeller

216 Reviews

AmazerBath Waffle Shower Curtain, Heavy Duty Fabric Shower...

SUPERIOR QUALITY - Made of heavy-duty polyester fabric. 240GSM (Gram Per Square Meter). About 1.2 pounds heavier than normal 90GSM fabric shower curtains. It feels soft and comfortable, no smell, no-blowing, withstands moist...

EXPERIENCE LUXURY - Pure white curtain complemented by stylish waffle-weave pattern adds elegance to your bathroom, letting you enjoy luxurious hotel bath at home.

EASY TO CLEAN - Machine washable in cold water, dries quickly. Extra strong fabric and tight hem could avoid shrinkage and deformation.

EASY INSTALLATION - Each curtain has 12 rust-resistant metal grommets which fit most curtain hooks. The 72x72 Inches curtain fits most standard-sized bathtubs and showers.

WARM TIPS - The heavy-duty polyester fabric can resist water to some degree. Only a little bit of water will soak through, and most of the water will form water drops on the surface and quickly be repelled. Recommend using...

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HURRY#4 BestSeller

Hanhao Shower Curtain of Dobby Texture with Rustproof Metal...

PREMIUM FABRIC: Hotel quality premium polyester with luxury heavy weight waffle woven fabric. Curtain or liner made of this fabric is washable.

REINFORCED RUST PROOOF GROMMET TOP: Specially engineered metal grommet offer 10 times interlock capacity than traditional metal eyelets. Compatible with various rings and hooks

ECO-FRIENDLY WEIGHTED BOTTOM HEM: 100% non toxic 16G/M weighed bead string are sawn inside the bottom hem. Keeps shower curtain straight down and close to the tub wall.

WATER REPELLENT: Heavy duty woven fabric with water repellent treatment which prevents the water from penetrating the fabric and sheds moisture. Water bead will be lighted up and glides down the curtain quickly. This curtain,...

PROFESSIONAL DESIGN: The best way to reduce bacterial and mold grow is to keep the shower curtain clean and dry after usage. We re-engineered the shower curtain structure and folded the bottom weighted hem to front (the back...

$23.00 −15%

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#5 BestSeller

CAROMIO Black Fabric Shower Curtain, Hotel Quality Waffle...

Waffle Weave Fabric: Made from expertly chosen 100% polyester fabric with exquisite 0.18 inches small waffle weave texture. Modern and simple design is sure to compliment any bathroom setting or bathroom color scheme, a great...

Serve Well: This shower curtain is treated to repel water and resist soaking, fits for moisture-rich environment.Kindly note-Not total waterproof, for use with an interior shower curtain liner (not included)

Exquisite Workmanship: Reinforced top header with 12 rust-resistant metal grommets as well as fade-resistant fabric make these curtains not only functional but also fashionable, your best choice for outfitting your bathroom

Safe and Durable Shower Curtain: Simply the safest shower curtain for you and your family. It doesn’t give off unpleasant chemical odors like vinyl, PVC or plastic ones. Various Colors and Sizes are sure to fit most...

Easy Care: Machine washable in cold water, gentle cycle, tumble dry low,cool iron if needed.

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#6 BestSeller

mDesign Premium 100% Cotton Waffle Weave Fabric Shower...

PREMIUM QUALITY: The tight weave of the fabric and superior quality of the cotton yarns provide this curtain with a firm, smooth texture that is made to withstand damp, moisture-rich bathroom environments; Drapes beautifully...

REINFORCED BUTTON HOLES: Reinforced button holes work with most types of shower hooks and rings for quick and simple installation; Top hem is reinforced to hold up to long term use; This shower curtain will complement any...

SIMPLE INSTALLATION: Each curtain contains 12 reinforced button holes that fit most standard shower hooks (hanging hooks not included), and the generous size is sure to fit most bathtubs and showers; Machine washable to keep...

QUALITY CONSTRUCTION: Made of 100% cotton; Easy Care - machine was cold, gentle cycle; Hang to dry for worry-free maintenance that keeps it looking like new; Warm iron as needed; Use of a liner recommended - this curtain is...

THOUGHTFULLY SIZED: Measures 72" x 72"

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#7 BestSeller

Shower Curtain Waffle Dark Grey Fabric Bathroom Curtain...

1, 100% Polyester, include 12 rust metal grommets with a reinforced top-header,12 Plastic Hooks , Measures 72" x 72"(180CM*180CM)

2，SUPERIOR QUALITY, DURABLE SHOWER CURTAIN: Our shower curtain is made from expertly chosen and thoroughly tested polyester fabric, which is made to withstand moisture-rich bathroom environments. it is sure to...

3，Healthy Shower Curtain: Simply the safest shower curtain for you and your family. A quick rinse and clean up with water or a damp cloth

4，WATER REPELLENT: The shower curtain’s expertly manufactured fabric provides it with a firm yet smooth texture, which promotes water bead formation and prevents shower curtain soaking and bathroom floor messes....

5,EASY TO CARE:Your brand new shower curtain is effortless to maintain and easy to use, too! It's machine washable, so it is hassle-free cleaning

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#8 BestSeller

14,896 Reviews

MAYTEX TEX Double Roller Glide Hooks Shower Curtain Rings,...

EASY ROLLER GLIDE: Open and close your shower curtain easily with the Double Roller Glide Shower Rings

DESIGN: The Double Roller Glide Shower Curtain Hooks separately hang the shower curtain and shower liner

RUST RESISTANT: Made of durable, rust resistant metal

FRICTION FREE: These shower curtain hooks will quietly glide across the curtain rod

SET OF 12 SHOWER HOOKS: Sold in sets of 12 for standard shower curtain installation

PACKAGING: Item should come in Maytex branded packaging such as packaging pictured on left

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#9 BestSeller

18 Reviews

Dainty Home Waffle Weave Ombre Stripe Fabric Shower...

BEAUTIFUL SHADES OF COLOR FOR THE BATH: Ombre dyed fabrics fade from dark to light shades, offering degrees of color that easily compliment any bathroom style or décor.

INSTANTLY TRANSFORM WITH TEXTURED BATH CURTAINS: Waffle weave woven fabrics have lovely texture like the honeycomb of a waffle or hone beehive found in nature - luxurious hand for a hotel experience.

FASHION, FUNCTION & STYLE IN ONE: The perfect addition to your bathroom makeover or DIY bathroom redesign - shower curtains add a level of decoration and instant color to your bathroom décor.

COLORFULL UPDATES FOR THE BATHROOM: Ombre colors and stripes add visual interest and are pleasing to the eye - creating a bathroom spa oasis at home.

EASY TO HANG - MACHINE WASHABLE: Ombre Waffle Weave Shower Curtain offers 12 finished button holes for hanging on any straight, curved or tension curtain rod - perfect for house, apartment, camper, beach house and more.

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#10 BestSeller

mDesign Long Premium 100% Cotton Waffle Weave Fabric Shower...

PREMIUM QUALITY: The tight weave of the fabric and superior quality of the cotton yarns provide this curtain with a firm, smooth texture that is made to withstand damp, moisture-rich bathroom environments; Drapes beautifully...

REINFORCED BUTTON HOLES: Reinforced button holes work with most types of shower hooks and rings for quick and simple installation; Top hem is reinforced to hold up to long term use; This shower curtain will complement any...

SIMPLE INSTALLATION: Each curtain contains 12 reinforced button holes that fit most standard shower hooks (not included), and the generous size is sure to fit most bathtubs and showers; Machine washable to keep mold and...

EASY CARE: Made of 100% cotton; Machine wash cold, gentle cycle; Hang to dry for worry-free maintenance that keeps it looking like new; Warm iron as needed; Use of a liner recommended

GENEROUSLY SIZED: Measures 72" x 84" long; (Please note - this curtain is 12" longer than a standard shower curtain which is typically no more than 72" long)

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(Disclosure: As being Amazon Associate I earn from purchases over amazon. This page may contain affiliate links, which means I may receive a commission if you purchase something that I have recommended.)

WHY YOU SHOULD BUY BLACK WAFFLE SHOWER CURTAINS FROM AMAZON?

Amazon checkout is simple, particularly in the event that you as of now have a record. You can add things to your cart and experience a multi-step checkout procedure, or you can purchase items with just a single tick by utilizing you’re put away charge card data.

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#Shower curtains

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Arplis - News: Affordable Sink Stopper Stuck

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How to remove a stuck drain stopper in a bathroom sink to properly clean it. . So, this is one of those not so pretty posts, but I promise it is Oh So Handy! 17 déc. 2018 – A stuck metal sink stopper prevents water from draining out of your sink, which stops you from using the sink until it is removed. If the stopper is . Hi, My sink stopper is stuck in the closed position, hence water is unable to . between the stopper and the sink to try to pry it up as it’s pretty flush. 22 févr. 2015 – It just happened to me with water in the sink. I spent an hour unsuccessfully trying to pry it out with a butter knife. I couldn’t find a plunger or . We have these spring loaded push button sink plugs in our house, and from time to . If the plug is jammed shut the push down on the top surface while trying to . will usually come apart pretty easily, for extra grip try wearing a rubber glove. How to remove a stuck metal sink stopper that doesn’t have a knob: A stuck sink . on top of the sink stopper and push down on the suction cup to create a seal on the . How to Replace a Sink Drain Pretty Handy Girl Replace Bathroom Sink, . How to remove a stuck drain stopper in a bathroom sink to properly clean it. Doing this tonight! . If your disposer won’t start, find the reset button, push it and . So, this is one of those not so pretty posts, but I promise it is Oh So Handy! Our push-in sink plug has been a bit sticky for a while now: this . with a sucker on the top which could work but mine was jammed pretty hard. 22 févr. 2015 – I filled the other sink and quickly let the water out. . Just open your clippers and rap them around the rubber ridge in the middle of your plug like you’re going to cut a nail. . the way, you could undo the drain pipe under the sink so that you can push the stopper up and out. . Remove stuck tailpipe from sink. A pop-up stopper is definitely a convenience when it’s working properly, but all too often it isn’t. The culprit is often an accumulation of hair in the drain, but . 17 déc. 2018 – A stuck metal sink stopper prevents water from draining out of your . to remove some parts to push the stopper up and free it from the drain. How can I get a bathroom sink plug removed when it won’t unscrew? 6,954 Views · How do you fix a . What is the best way to remove a stuck ring? 1,119 Views. 17 déc. 2018 – Lift up to remove the stopper with the suction cup. If the metal sink stopper is still stuck, proceed. Remove the pivot rod nut under the sink by turning it counterclockwise with a pair of pliers to remove the pivot rod. To make your pop-up stopper work, you may have to reconnect or adjust the . The lever connects to the lift rod by a metal plate called the clevis, which has a . 6 oct. 2011 – Clogged or slow flowing bathroom sink? How to remove, dis-assemble, clean and re-assemble a button type pop up stopper in a bathroom sink. . quick and easy is to clean and repair slow, leaking or clogged bathroom sinks . How to remove a stuck metal sink stopper that doesn’t have a knob: A stuck sink stopper prevents water from draining out of your sink. There’s a trick you can try . I have a newer sink with a drain plug that is controlled from a single post behind the water spout – like most bathroom faucets. . -Metal post is adjusted vertically by user -Post moves lever under . aka I-zheet M’drurz [ have some sympathy, and some taste. . Is the stopper stuck in the down/closed position? 1 févr. 2013 – There are blocked drains that can be quickly fixed with a plunger or some . Crowdhacker · Drains · Clogs · Plumbing · pipes · Home Improvement · Home Repair · Top . I have used foaming and non-foaming drain unblockers. . Especially if there’s a whole family in the house, and they aren’t sympathetic. . at the back of the waiting room buzzed open, and Bria stuck her head out. . Stainless-steel vaults, each one fronted with its own door, lined two of the . metal tables took up the center of the room, each positioned above a drain in the floor. . his dark hazel eyes were kind and sympathetic behind his round silver glasses. A Tribute To Judas Priest — Legends Of Metal (Century Media) mostly features . takes you there anyway. by Douglas Wolk ] THE MUFFS “I’m A Dick” Sympathy . Light Building-TVT STUCK MOJO Pigwalk Century Media DOWNSET. do we speak a . Mercury DRAIN S.T.H. Horror Wrestling The Enclave EL DOPA United In . Results 1 – 24 of 337 – Online shopping for Drain Stoppers from a great selection at Home & Kitchen Store. Shop Sink Stopper (2 Pack) Rubber Bathtub Drain Stopper & Kitchen Sink Plug The Best Universal Sink Stopper and Travel Plug by Muzitao. Free delivery on . Free next day delivery on eligible orders for Amazon prime members Buy pop up sink plugs on Amazon.co.uk. Products 1 – 14 – Concept Freedom Gel Headrest for Concept Freedom bath · E1092 · E1092 . E5795 · E5795. Waste 1 1/2in combined bath pop-up and overflow. Buy Drain Strain – No-Clog Sink Stopper (Chrome): Drain Strainers . Great concept, but the drain can now only go through several small holes which become . the concept of pushing down to unseal the stopper is bad. With a sink full of soapy water, dishes and silverware, something is naturally going to push down on . 20 oct. 2018 – Protect virtually every drain in your home with the most advanced . Our design was inspired by the cork concept you find in various bottles. . in many countries such as Canada, Mexico, UK, France, Japan, and more. Ideal Standard Ceramic Basin pop up Waste Seal A911754 . Ideal Standard Ideal Standard Concept Bath Pop Up Plug Iws TT0284566 . Ideal Standard . Smart handling concept, elegant puristic design – the innovative drain system for kitchen sinks. 11 feb. 2019 – Where a new born baby is stuck down a storm water drain. Rescue workers are busy trying to get to the baby at the moment. Picture: Rescue . 12 jul. 2018 – KNYSNA NEWS – “Good morning Mark, we have a small whale stranded in the surf. Do you know who we should call?” It was 10:00 on Friday . Plettenberg Bay, or ‘Plett’, as it is commonly known, is one of the most . little of historical interest, the compact centre is attractive and the main beach beautiful. . The Portuguese had a number of names for the bay, but none stuck for very long . Travel information for Plettenberg Bay – Safety Advice. . If your card gets stuck, immediately call that ATM’S helpline number. Be alert, and never turn your back . 29 ene. 2018 – So, we think, Plett still has plenty of appeal. . We are stuck in an old paradigm which sees public and private interests moving in different . 22 de Ene de 2019 – Alquila un lugar especial en Plettenberg Bay, Sudáfrica desde $20 la noche. Encuentra alojamientos únicos y anfitriones locales en 191 . Casey Plett (Goodreads Author) these stories are so genuine and beautiful. honestly “lizzy & annie” stuck with me the most, but i think they all will, all these . 1 ene. 2019 – In December 2017, the Supreme Court of Appeal ordered the Home Affairs Department to open a new facility by the end of March 2018. Nuwe , AANTREKLIKE, VRIENDELIKE , ATTRACTIVE MATURE WHITE LADY , AWESOME MASSAGE Dana Bay , BOEREMEISIE vriendelik en , BONGI Sexy, . Located near Plettenberg Bay on the Garden Route, South Africa. . (It was stuck to the chicken’s foot!) Why did the turkey . (Because it had appeal!) What did . #StuckBauLeistungKontakt0176 #SinkStopperStuckHowToFix #MetalSinkStopperStuck #SinkStopperStuckUpsideDown #StuckInTheMiddleWithYouChords

Arplis - News source https://arplis.com/blogs/news/affordable-sink-stopper-stuck

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Tub Vs Shower: The Big Bathroom Remodeling Design Decision

Contents

Search query trend

Design blogger swears

Soaker tub removed

West shore sales team

Clawfoot tub … design

Difference. … aesthetic

Jul 20, 2012 … We are remodeling 3 bathrooms in our 1970s home. … If you already have a walk -in shower in the master bath, the tub is not a big factor … keep on in case you have a … tubs and how the style can enhance the design of any bathroom … Is glass or a curtain the perfect partner for your shower-bath combo?

the leading online platform for home remodeling and design ideas. In Sioux City, the tub-less trend is catching on. “We’re doing a lot more steam showers or doorless showers in lieu of a tub in the …

Kitchen and Bathroom Design and Remodeling Firm in Dallas & Plano. When planning a remodeling project—for your kitchen, bathroom, or whole home—choosing your team of specialists is the most important decision you will make.

Are you wondering about the hot bathroom trends for 2018? We’ve compiled a list of them, using insights we discovered from a variety of different sources: residential architects, trade associations, remodeling companies, contractors, interior designers, real estate agents, real estate stagers, retailers and their bestseller lists, Internet search query trend data and homeowners who are …

Philips Hue Outdoor Sensor Review: A Perfect Add-on For Outdoor Lighting Review: Weatherproof Hue Outdoor Motion Sensor Lets You Automate Your Indoor Or Outdoor Lights Mar 3, 2019 … The philips hue line of lights have been controllable via an indoor … As with all Hue products, the Outdoor Motion Bathroom Remodel Ideas For Small Bathrooms Bathrooms can look outdated quickly. Rather than wanting to redo yours every five years, stick to neutral and classic designs for tiles … and can Box Office: ‘how To Train Your Dragon 3,’ ‘a Madea Family Funeral’ Vie For No. 1 Tyler Perry’s ‘madea Family Funeral’ Tops Box Office With $9m Friday Friday Box Office: ‘a Madea Family Funeral’ Comes To Life With $9.2 Million ‘madea Family Funeral’ And ‘how To Train Your Dragon 3’ In Tight Race At Box Office Tyler Perry Speaks Out On Why He Is Retiring Madea 4 Money-saving Renovation Hacks One design blogger swears By Powder room decorating ideas – Powder Room Design And Pictures Circuit Court Candidates Make Their Cases

We just had a large soaker tub removed and replaced with a shower, the west shore sales team did a excellent job of showing us samples in our home and explaining …

Thanks for sharing this advice on getting a shower door over a curtain. My husband and I actually just bought a house, and the master bathroom has a shower curtain rod instead of a shower door.

Nearly 370 people suffer bathtub or … families safe in the bath and shower areas of the home. “With just a few easy-to-implement remodeling solutions, injuries can be prevented,” said Redmon, who …

Are you on the precipice of a bathroom renovation? We assembled a team of experts to identify the big mistakes you need to avoid … you should always include a bathtub or shower in the remodeling …

The Styling Secret of Wall Mounted Hooks. Towel bars are bad for marriages. Brian is constantly, after turning off the shower, asking me if he can use one of the perfectly styled towels that took me 3-5 minutes to hang (see above).

Mar 28, 2017 … But when you are deciding whether you want a shower or a bathtub in your most … The size of a new tub or prefabricated shower makes a big … This is why prefab showers and bathtubs are installed in new construction so early in the process. … Many sizes and designs of bathtubs are available, even …

With that much space, it’s possible to include a separate tub and shower, Roman or Jacuzzi tub, dual showers, double large-bowl sinks, or even multiple big fixtures … called universal design …

Whether it’s a charming clawfoot tub … design trends: 25 years ago, big whirlpool tubs were super popular, often paired with a smaller shower stall. Since then, more homeowners opted for a …

Jan 3, 2018 … So the questions for these people is: bath, shower or both? … A wide variety of design choices (style, material, tile surrounds etc.) Plenty of …

January 2019 “About 5 or 6 years ago we remodeled our downstairs bathroom and we decided on Onyx for the shower and lavatory because of the outstanding look of the product.

… in the universe to jump on anything that’s considered a new decorating or design trend. … If you’re planning a master bath renovation, would you consider it ? … to sell down the road, or does that not really matter in the making of your decision? … for things you deemed more important, like double sinks or a bigger shower?

Jan 28, 2019 … Are you struggling to choose between a tub and a walk-in shower? You are not alone. Homeowners who are remodeling or constructing a new bathroom get stuck … That extra 7% of open floor can make a surprisingly big difference. … aesthetic, easily incorporated into modern, rustic and antique designs.

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#Tub Vs Shower: The Big Bathroom Remodeling Design Decision #Skill Trade Contractor

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Size Of Shower Curtain Furniture Size Of Shower Curtain Furniture | This wonderful image collections about Size Of Shower Curtain is available to save.

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