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httphopewrld · 4 years ago

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I Don’t Know What to Call This | (f/m/a)

Just Friends? Friends with benefits? Dating? Questions swarmed your mind when one of your dear friends, Allie, asked about you and Hoseok’s relationship. The truth was you didn’t know. You and Hoseok were close, knowing each other since elementary school, and considered each other friends. However, as you two grew older, maturing into separate professions—you a well-known fashion designer, and Hoseok a famous musician and dancer—you two had engaged in some intimate activities (sex—lots of it.) After Allie’s simple question, you had to confront your feelings. But were you and Hoseok ready to be more than close friends and f*ck buddies?

Pairing: friend/lover/bfhoseok! x female reader

Genre: slowburn fluff and SMUT

Rating: 18+ because there’s swearing and pretty detailed smut

Warnings: swearing and SMUT (one of the most detailed smuts I've written, and there's more than one sex scene.) Smut includes: switch!reader and switch!hoseok, grinding and thrusting, protective sex (USE CONDOMS, I cannot stress that enough), lots of kissing, ass-grabbing, dirty talk, a wee bit of choking on both sides, squirting, male and female oral, fingering and handjobs, vibrator use, cyber-sex, the reader uses dildo, slight degradation, and just lots of filth—YOU'RE WELCOME FELLOW FILTHY ANIMALS. Oh, and spoilers for the horror movie Hush. It's on Netflix if you haven't watched it yet. It is GOOD.

Word Count: 16, 465 (wowie)

A/N: Thank you for waiting! It’s rushed, so expect some little mistakes here an there, but I’m happy with how it turned out. I hope y'all enjoy it! Also, Y/L/N means "your last name."

Taglist: @kirbykook @kleritata @taestannie @jenotation @hemmos-obrien @zeharilisharaban @speed-of-wind @kawaisoraya

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“You can move those over there,” you gestured to the left corner of the windowed room, where a pile of boxes waited. The move was going to take longer than you expected because the movers arrived a week later than your assistant, Rachel said. I really need to talk to her about this. You stressed in your mind, rubbing your temples. “Are you okay?” You looked up, vision resuming its focus on your friend, Allie. Allie, your friend for as long as you could remember, offered to help you move to your new building. She would help you manage everything, including the movers, tracking your company's items, and the layout you gave to her for said things while managing the company. “I’m just irritated at Rachel,” you noticed her confusion, “my new assistant.” She nodded, remembering, “Right. Why is she still employed?” “Because she’s new, and being an assistant is a tough feat. She’ll get it soon.” You reassured, “Rachel is a fast learner, and this is her first mistake. We’re prepared for the next show, though, because Westley's helping me organize it.” “Remind me who Westley is?” Allie asked. You sighed. “West is like my second brain. He helps organize the fashion shows, hire the models, find the venues, and secure the guest list. He has other people help him too, but he’s the brains of that. I create the fashion, and he finds a way to present it.” Allie nodded, “Gotcha.” Your phone rang, and you answered. “Y/N.” “Y/N!” Rachel chimed on the other end. “It’s Rachel. I’m so sorry about the mix-up on dates. It won’t happen again, I—” “I know it won’t, Rachel. You’re new, so I expected to slip up. I’ve gotten it taken care of,” you nudged Allie’s arm, and she smiled. “We’re luckily prepared for the next show in Vancouver, so you don’t have to worry about the mess up. All I need you to do now is make sure that my fabrics are coming in.” “Yes! They’ve arrived at the studio.” Rachel replied. "Fantastic. Thank you. That'll be all for now. Check on West if he needs anything." You ordered. “Will do, Y/N. Talk to you soon.” You hung up. The Vancouver show was in five months, giving you and your team enough time to design the clothes for the production and move to the new building. The show's theme was natural bodies of water and nature, a nod to Canada's landscape. The clothing catalogue would include various icy blue shades to represent waterfalls and warm emerald tones like flora and fauna. These colours would be encapsulated in elegant gowns and suits, worn by different body shapes, genders, and colours. The materials would be made from recycled fabrics from your previous shows and from your fellow artists. You were known for designing elegant attire, so it was best to keep to it. However, it was rare to see different sized, coloured, and gendered models on a runway; because of having to customize clothes to those models. Additionally, making clothes from recycled fabrics would be tough. “Okay,” you began, “I need to talk to my design team and plan out the gowns. Can I leave you here to deal with the movers?” Allie gave you a thumbs up. “Thank you,” you smiled, hugging her, “if you need anything, please call me or Rachel, or both. We’ll be back to help.” Before you left, a thought struck you. You turned around to face Allie. “I should just hire you.” She chuckled, “Why?” You scoffed, "Because you're here all the time!" You walked back to her. "Listen, you're the best manager I know. You can be my third brain. You already are, outside of work, so it would make sense." Allie seemed unsure. “I already have my job at Youth and Hope.” You grasped her hands. “You would be given a great wage, not just because you’re my best friend, but because you’re going to be busy with lots of work. You would be handling the management tasks, like West. You’d be given a good amount of vacation, trips for shows and meetings would be paid for—you could get that loft you always wanted downtown.” You wiggled your eyebrows, and Allie laughed. “Don’t I have to go through an interview process?” You brushed a hand through the air. “I can get someone to interview you and officially hire you. Once that’s done, you’ll start getting paid.” You checked your watch, and a quick rush of panic ran through you. “Shit, I’m going to be late. Consider it, alright! Let me know your availability, and we’ll schedule an interview!” “Okay!” She shouted back as you left. . . The coffee had become bitter. You weren’t sure if it was the roast or the fact that this was your fourth cup of the night. It had been a month since the fabrics arrived. Thanks to Allie, your friend and now employee, your move to the new building was complete; however, your designs weren’t translating as smoothly as you wish. "Fuck," you cursed, resting your head in your hands and rubbing your temples. The sketches waited in front of you—the measurements and ideas raking at your confidence. Your designs are redundant. You’ve done something similar last time. Boring. Plain. You turned back to your mannequins, still bare. The theme was in your mind, and your design team reassured you that your sketches were fine, but it all felt fuzzy. “Y/N,” Rachel peered into the studio from the door, “there’s a gentleman here to see you.” “His name?” You asked, still looking at the mannequins. You heard footsteps retreat into the front lobby, then come back to the door. “Jung Hoseok?” You turned around, trying to contain your excitement. “Please send him in.” Rachel nodded, jogging back to the lobby. You heard a muffled “thank you” before heavy footsteps approaching your studio. Hoseok reached the doorway, beaming his signature smile. He wore acid-washed jeans, a baggy white sweater that matched his chunky light sneakers. His dark hair was slightly wavy and parted in the middle. A tote bag was slung over his shoulder. “Y/N!” He cheered, opening his arms wide. “Hoseok!” You replied, running into his arms and hugging him tightly. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Hoseok—a year or two? “Fuck, how long has it been?” You asked him. He pulled away, thinking. “About six months?” Totally off. “Seriously, it felt longer than that.” You argued. Hoseok pulled out his phone and scrolled through his calenderer and photos. He made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Ah, see here,” he showed you a few photos of you two with his friends, who were also his bandmates, “six months ago, you joined us on tour for a couple days before coming back here. I have it also marked in my calendar.” He showed you the dates, which were marked with ‘💚Y/N’s visit💚.’ “Can Namjoon or Yoongi confirm this?” You crossed your arms. Hoseok mimicked your body language. “I can call them right now,” he challenged. You two stood in competitive tension. You succumbed. “You win this time, Jung Hoseok.” He playfully chuckled. You realized that Hoseok doesn’t live around here. “Wait, why are you in town. Shouldn’t you and the others be in Korea planning another album or something?” You speculated. “Our company gave us a month for vacation because we spent most of the year touring.” Hoseok sighed. “So, I decided to come to visit.” You hugged him again, happy to see someone who wasn’t your employee amidst this chaos of stress. “How long are you staying?” You asked, muffled against his chest. He paused. “Maybe a month?” You pulled away from him, shocked. “A month? Here? That’s all your vacation time.” “Yeah,” he replied, as if that wasn’t a big deal, “I didn’t want to travel to a bunch of places because the group and I have been doing that for almost a year—and it’s pretty chill in this area.” He sighed. “Besides, I don’t think many people would recognize me. The airport wasn’t busy, and I haven’t been swarmed by fans yet.” “Do you have a place to stay?” You asked. He nodded. “Yup! I’m staying at a fancy hotel. I got the suite at the top floor,” he made a gesture with his hand, indicating how high up his suite was. You playfully elbowed his side. "Wow, look at you, Mr. Famous. You can afford a top suite now. Are you sure you don't want to stay with me, though?” Hoseok dismissed your offer with a wave of his hand. “It’s alright, Y/N. Thank you, though.” He peered over your shoulder, “It looks like you’re busy anyway, so I think I’ll just stick to my suite.” He walked past you, over to the bare mannequins. “Are you preparing for that show in Vancouver that you told me about?” You nodded, relaying your theme and ideas to him. He smiled. “That sounds really cool,” he pointed to the mannequins, “but don’t you need some clothes for the show, then?” You rolled your eyes, chuckling at him for being a smart ass. “Yes, I do. I’m brainstorming some ideas right now, but I’m coming up with nothing. I have the design team coming in tomorrow with drafts, but I’d like to bring my own thing to the table, you know? I’m the main brain of this operation, and it’d be embarrassing if I come in with zilch.” You leaned against one of the tables, facing the mannequins. "The tough part is designing gowns that fit the right people, you know. Sure, you can make a collection of clothes, but they won't look good if they don't fit the models." You shook your head. "Maybe it's just tougher to design clothes for different bodies. I should just stick to one type of person and leave it at that." Hoseok walked up beside you, leaning against the same table and facing the figures. “Why don’t you find the models and then design the clothes?” You looked at him, surprised. “But wouldn’t that take a long time?” He crossed his arms, “Well, how many models would you need?” “We’re thinking around seventy. There’s going to be two changes within the show.” Hoseok nodded, and you could see him brainstorming. “Well, you have four months left, right? You and your team can make some drafts, cast the models, and finalize the ideas with said models. Which would take about a couple of months? You could do that while planning the show?” He paused, appearing to notice your hesitant expression. “Think about it. You’ve trained your team well enough to work on its own, right? That’s what you did for your last show, which was a success. You came in every day for a couple hours to make sure everything was in order, then focused on other things.” Hoseok grasped your hands. “You’re great at multitasking, so do it. It’s scary, but you can check on people every day to make sure everything’s alright.” You bit your lip, “I-I don’t know, Hoseok. That sounds like a lot of work—” “You did it last time, and it worked out just fine,” he gently squeezed your hands, “and I’m here for a month. I can help out whenever you need me. I’ll simply clean things up and fetch coffee if that’s what you need.” You laughed, “Like my intern?” “Yeah! I don’t know how to design anything or plan a fashion show, but I’ll do what I can.” He smiled. “You’re so much more than you think, Y/N, and if you need reminders, I’ll be here.” You smiled back at him, so grateful to have him here. “My god, you’re fucking sweet,” you scoffed, taking your hands out of his. Hoseok laughed. You pushed yourself off the table and faced him. “How did we even become friends?” You questioned. He actually gave it a thought. “You joined by dance club in elementary school, when no one else would.” He laughed so hard that he teared up. “I think we actually took club photos, and it was only you and I posing.” You laughed with him, remembering those days spent trying to breakdance to hip hop and presenting dance routines to your parents. “Yeah, that was before you joined that Music Academy in grade four, right?” He nodded, and you sighed, surprised you still remembered. Your mind came back to the present. “So, you’re actually okay with helping out?” You checked. “Why would I ask if I didn’t want to?” Hoseok replied. You tapped your index finger against your temple, “true.” “So, how much do you want?” Hoseok looked offended at your question. You chuckled. “Well, you’re going to work for me, so I need to pay you.” “It’s only just a month, though.” “Yeah, but—” “What about we see how much you have me do before you pay me?” He interrupted. “I might just have to fetch coffee, so you can just give me money on the spot.” You thought about it for a minute. Hoseok yawned. “This work talk is making me tired. Do you want to go out for dinner?” He looked around you, “Unless you have more work to do. I can always wait in the lobby for you to finish.” You brushed your hand through the air, “Nah, it’s okay. I’m pretty brain dead anyway. I need to be energized for tomorrow’s draft review.” Hoseok pushed himself off the table and clapped. “Awesome! Where do you think I’m taking you for dinner?” You bit your lip, trying to guess. “Sushi?” “Sushi it is!” He beamed. You grabbed your things and followed him out of the studio.

Both of you sat towards the back of the sushi restaurant, to Hoseok’s request. The waitress placed you two in a concealed booth, with drapes covering a small entrance.

You two had to take your shoes off before sitting down.

“Why did you say, ‘sushi it is?’” You asked, taking a sip of your water.

Hoseok opened his can of sprite, “What do you mean?”

“You asked where I thought you were taking me, I responded, and you said, ‘sushi it is!’” You reiterated.

He took a sip of his soda before responding, "It's a trick I learned from Instagram." He set his drink down. "You ask someone, 'where do you think I'm taking you for food?' dinner or whatever, and then take them to a place with that food. It's easier than asking 'what do you want to eat?' because people can't decide."

You nodded, making an ‘aaahhh’ sound. “Smart.”

You two caught up while eating your meals. Hoseok chatted about his bandmates and the tour, and you talked about your move to the new building.

Most of it was just adding more details about your lives because you two texted lots during the week and sometimes video chatted. You'd get to see Hoseok and his friends, and he'd get a view of your life on the other side of the world.

To others, it looked like both of you were dating. Both of your friends would tease, singing, "Y/N and Hoseok sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G." Many of his fans, ARMY, would theorize your friendship, pointing out the matching bracelets you two wore—which was later proved normal because Hoseok went live on Vlive making bracelets for his bandmates.

And you two would continually clarify that you two were strictly long-time friends. Nothing more.

Girls and boys can be friends. Simple as that.

You and Hoseok finished your meals. You two shared a few rolls and a bento box and were full.

“That was really good.” You commented, rubbing your stomach.

Hoseok chuckled, copying you, “I think I’m pregnant.”

You laughed, “Shut up! You’re so fit.”

“You’re right,” he replied, pulling up his sleeves and flexing his arms.

You both laughed as he flexed his muscles, which were significantly more prominent than your remembered. You were slightly jealous of his lean athletic figure.

And were gazing at it for too long.

“I don’t know about you,” Hoseok sighed, appearing to be tired from the food and flexing his muscles, “but I’m in the mood for some Ben and Jerry’s.”

Your eyes lit up. “YES.”

“Cookie dough with chunks?” You both said in unison.

You two erupted in laughter.

"I'll go play," Hoseok said, getting up.

You stopped him, “It’s alright,” you smiled, “my treat.”

Before you left the booth, you turned around and said thoughtfully, "But you're getting the ice cream."

Hoseok's expression conveyed the same seriousness as if a soldier on a mission.

He saluted you. “Copy that, Y/N.”

You saluted him back and left to pay.

The walk to Ben and Jerry’s was quick. Both of you were eager to share the tub of ice cream.

You ended up getting a chocolate chip cookie dough and a cherry Garcia pint, and two spoons to share. You both ate the ice creams with delight while walking back to your apartment building.

When arriving at your building, Hoseok handed you the cookie dough ice cream pint.

“What are you doing?” You asked while he gave you the closed pint.

He tilted his head to the side, confused. “What do you mean? I’m dropping you off at your place.”

You gave a shocked expression. “Dropping me off? We’re not even done our pints!”

“But you have work tomorrow. I don’t want to keep you up.” Hoseok stepped back towards the edge of the sidewalk. “I can catch a cab back to the hotel, don’t worry.”

You balanced the pints in one hand and used your other to grab his arm.

“You’re not going anywhere,” you said, pulling away from the curb and closer to your building.

Hoseok pulled his arm out of your grip. "Y/N, you need to be well-rested—"

“At least help me finish the ice cream.” You interrupted, holding up the pints that were now in both your hands, along with your spoon.

“We haven’t seen each other six months, and it’s only…”

Hoseok pulled out his phone. “Nine.”

“Exactly!” You expressed. “It’s only nine. I don’t need to be in until nine-thirty tomorrow morning. As long as you’re out by eleven, that gives me an hour to get ready for bed at twelve, and I will wake up at eight. Plenty of rest!”

You watched his unsure expression.

"If you don't want to go home at eleven, that's fine by me. Could you leave earlier? Or you can go back to your hotel if you want. I won't take offence; you know me." You held up your arms in surrender, ice cream pints still in your hands. "But if you're leaving because you're worried that I won't get enough sleep, don't. I'm a grown woman. I know how to take care of myself, and I want you to come in.

Hoseok bit his lip, appearing to debate the offer.

He sighed. "Fine, I'll come in. However, I don't want to get a text from you complaining about being tired in the morning."

“I swear,” you promised, pretending to draw an ‘x’ over your heart, “I cross my heart.”

Hoseok chuckled, and you led the two of you into your apartment building and into the elevator. You pressed the twentieth button, and you two waited in comfortable silence.

The elevator doors opened, and you two walked to your apartment.

You opened the door to your studio apartment, locking the door behind you two and hanging up your bag along with your keys.

“Want anything to drink?” You asked, setting down the ice cream pint in your hand and taking off your coat.

Hoseok set down the cookie dough pint on the coffee table. “Anything is alright, thanks,”

You hummed, getting both of you bottles of black cherry soda and bringing over the cherry Garcia pint and your spoon.

"Jesus, do you need help?" Hoseok asked with worry, seeing you holding the bottles by their necks in one hand and the ice cream pint and spoon in the other.

You chuckled, “It’s alright, just sit down.”

You two sat on the couch, twisting off the caps on your sodas and taking a sip.

Hoseok sighed. “That’s really good,” he gestured to the pop before putting it down on the coffee table.

“Yeah! They’re so addictive,” you replied, setting coasters under both of your drinks.

Both of you continued to reminisce about your childhood, especially middle school. The puberty years had been gruesome to you two, speckling your faces with acne.

You pulled out a photo album you kept on one of your bookshelves, which had pictures of your families and your younger selves—even photos when Hoseok was training, before debuting with BTS in 2013.

“Oh my god, look at you!” You gasped, showing him a picture.

In the photo, Hoseok arms were crossed over his chest, his attempt at having swagger. He wore a collared shirt, and his hair was short.

“Oh god, no,” Hoseok cringed, gently pushing the photo away.

You chuckled, "You were so adorable, always dancing and having a good time." You smiled. "You are such a hard worker, practicing so much. I remember you twisting your ankle but still practicing."

You looked at him tenderly. “I wish people could see that.”

Hoseok smiled back at you, softly touching your hand. You grasped his hand, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

He was the first to pull away.

“You remember our sleepovers?” He asked.

You giggled, "Yeah when you could leave that cramped place you shared with the boys."

He swatted your arm, “That apartment was good! It was where everything started.” He pouted. “Anyways, we would always look up deep questions to ask each other—or would you rather.”

You rolled your eyes. “Those questions were overrated.”

“I thought they were nice!” Hoseok defended. “We got to know each other more, like, ‘what is your biggest fear?’ or ‘what is your biggest pet peeve?’”

He must've seen your unimpressed expression because he continued, "You got to admit that you learned a bit more about me because of those questions!"

You sighed. “I did, I guess.”

Hoseok held up his index finger, seeming to signal ‘wait a minute.’

He pulled out his phone. “Let’s try some now, then.”

“Hoseok—”

“Come on,” he interrupted. “If you don’t learn anything new about me from the first four questions we do, then we can stop, alright? I will never bring up these questions ever again.”

You debated his offer.

“Fine.” You agreed, setting down the photo album. “Shoot.”

“Okay, but we both pick two questions and answer all of them. For example, when we ask a question, the other person answers before the picker.” Hoseok said while he scrolled.

You hummed, understanding his instructions.

“Want to do would you rather?”

“Sure.”

"Sexy edition?" Hoseok wiggled his eyebrows. "Unless you're uncomfortable."

You scoffed. “Hobi, we're grown, adults. I can take a few sexual questions."

“Okay,” Hoseok replied, “but if you ever feel uncomfortable, we can choose another question or stop.”

You nodded, and Hoseok appeared to find what he was looking for.

“Alright,” he began, “would you rather bite someone’s ear during sex or bite someone’s lip during sex?”

This is pretty vanilla. You thought.

"Lip, for sure." You emphasized the 'sure' in your sentence, stringing along with the 'er' sound.

“Same,” Hoseok agreed while passing you his phone.

You took his cell and strolled through the website.

What do I choose? Do I just dive in, or go for the vanilla shit?

“Would you rather engage in foreplay or go right into the main course?” You asked.

Hoseok thought about it. “I would say foreplay. You can warm things up—and nothing is more fun than teasing.” He shimmied, making you two laugh.

You agreed, passing the phone to him.

“Oooo, here’s a classic,” he grinned, “top or bottom?”

“I think I’m a switch,” you replied.

He tilted his head.

“It’s like, you’re both, top and bottom. I like to take control sometimes, but I can also sub.” You explained. “You?”

“Top,” he replied, “for sure.”

You laughed, “You sound so against being a bottom.”

He laughed too. “I like pleasuring the person I’m having sex with. Nothing is more satisfying than making someone cum.”

“True,” you admitted.

You found your mind wandering to unholy memories of you and Hoseok. What was odd about your friendship that—to put it blatantly—you two had sex. Not just once, but a few times.

This is why asking these questions was pretty casual and not too surprising.

You two started engaging in sex a couple years ago. You were stressed about your company starting, and Hoseok was in town. He offered to help you relax, and before you knew it, he was drilling into you from behind.

Both of you agreed to stay friends but continued to have sex every now and then. It was great, you had to admit. Probably the best sex you had in your life, and it was good that you two were able to keep your friendship platonic at the same time. Only, it was sex without the romantic feelings.

To be honest, you were craving it again.

He passed you his phone again, and you tried to pick a good last question.

“Would you rather kiss me gently or kiss me aggressively?” You asked.

Hoseok paused before answering. “Depends on the mood.”

“Well, at this moment, then, what is the mood?”

You watched Hoseok’s eyes shift between your lips then your eyes.

“Aggressively.”

You hummed. “Good to know.” You passed him back his phone. “Last question.”

Hoseok chuckled, “You seriously didn’t learn anything new?”

You shrugged. “I guess not.”

He didn't seem bothered, though, when his body shifted closer to yours.

When he looked back up at you, his expression changed. Although his eyes were already an opaque shade of brown, they had darkened.

I know that look.

He smirked. “Would you rather make the first move or receive the first move?”

You bit your lip, gazing up at his body.

Before you could reconnect with his eyes, you heard his phone drop, and his lips were on yours.

Just like his answer, his kisses were aggressive and needy. You could taste the cherry cola and ice cream on his lips and mouth.

You pulled his face closer, wanting more.

Hoseok’s body language opened up, allowing you to get up and straddle his lap. You felt his hands inch up your shirt and tug at the fabric. He helped you take it off, which gave him access to your breasts.

You felt him undo your bra with a quick flick of his fingers, and you tossed it off without a care.

Hoseok let out a chuckle before claiming your lips with his.

His lips were intoxicating, and you wanted more.

“Please touch me,” you begged against his lips.

He hummed, grazing his hands down your back before roughly grabbing your ass. You moaned, and he held you against him, hard enough to feel him grind into you.

“Fuck, stop teasing,” you pulled away, and he laughed.

“Baby, I’m not teasing,” he smirked.

Baby. The term of endearment made your heart swoon.

You weren’t always this infatuated by Hoseok. But the way he came to visit you during his break, had dinner and ice cream with you, and kissed you this good—it made you want more than just a fling.

But you couldn't think that way. It was sex. You two were doing this to get off, not engage in lovemaking.

Hoseok swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, eyeing your figure. “You know what I want.”

You ran your hand up and down his chest. “What are you waiting for?”

Hoseok's hands came underneath your thighs, and he picked you up, walking you to your bedroom. He used your body to close the door, slamming you against it.

He ground himself against your core, causing you to moan louder than you expected.

You covered your mouth in embarrassment.

Hoseok chuckled, “It’s okay,” he pulled away enough to graze his thumb over your cheek, “I love it when you moan.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing him and grabbing his ass, causing him to grind on your core.

"Fuck, I can practically feel that you wet," he groaned, trying his best to hold you up and sturdy you against the door.

“B-bed,” you choked, one of his particular thrusts stroking perfectly against you.

Hoseok moved you towards your bed and gingerly placed you down. He kissed down your bare chest and slowly took off your pants and underwear.

“Fuck, your perfect,” Hoseok awed, softly running a finger through your wet heat.

His cold finger sent a wave of pleasure through you, making you flinch.

Hoseok hummed. “So wet for me,”

He looked up at you. “May I?”

You nodded, but he only smirked.

“Words, baby,” he put a hand to his ear.

“Please,” you bit down on your lip.

You felt him spread your lips, and you clenched in response. He appeared to savour you, taking his time as he ate you out.

When you moaned, he’d hum, sending vibrations into your heat that brought you closer to your climax.

“Fuck, I’m close—”

He pulled away, licking his lips and gazing down at you.

“Hoseok—”

“You taste better than I remembered,” he commented. “But I want you to cum around me.”

God, I love his dirty talk.

You watched him take off his clothes. He must've been working out because he was more toned than six months ago.

He was about to line himself up with your entrance, but you stopped him with your foot on his chest.

You smirked. “Not yet, baby.”

You stood up. “Sit.”

Hoseok sat on the bed, your roles shifting.

“But I want—”

You interrupted his beg with your hand around his erect cock. He appeared to be speechless as you run your hand up and down his shaft.

“Hm?” You asked, chuckling lightly at how easy it was to make him submit. “What do you want, baby?”

“I-I wanted,” he stuttered, thrusting slightly into your hand, “to cum inside you.”

“Is that so?” You questioned, pulling your hand away.

Despite his vocalized want, he whined when you pulled away.

“I’m only doing what my baby wants,” you shrugged. “Condoms are in the bottom drawer on the right.”

Hoseok dashed over to the bedside table, rummaging for the condoms.

“Those should fit you, right?”

"Yes," he replied, opening the familiar wrapper and unravelling it on his erect member.

He stood there for a minute, wrapped penis and naked, just fondly looking at your nude figure.

He whispered something under his breath.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok blushed. “You still want to fuck?”

“Yes.”

“Top or bottom?”

“Top please,” you smiled.

Hoseok laid down on your bed, and you climbed onto his torso.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he cursed as you moved off his abs and onto his cock.

A wet puddle was left on his abdomen, which he wiped away with his fingers, then putting said fingers into his mouth.

“So good,” he groaned.

You hummed in response, slowly sinking onto him.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you said when you bottomed out.

You started moving, swaying your hips back and forth. Each time Hoseok's cock would graze against your g-spot.

His hands were placed on your hips, guiding you on him. You could feel yourself clenching around him and your climax building up.

“I-I’m close,” you stuttered.

Hoseok swallowed, “Me too.”

“Ch-choke me,” you requested as you picked up your pace.

Hoseok grinned. “Only if you choke me back.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. Hoseok gently wrapped his hand around your neck, and you did the same, slowly applying pressure.

You felt your thighs burn from exhaustion. "F-fuck me," you cursed, slowing down.

Both of you let go of each other's neck, and Hoseok flipped you two over, still inside you.

"It's okay," Hoseok assures before resuming the pace.

His thrusts were rough and deep, and he pushed your thighs against your chest.

“Fuck, please keep going,” you begged.

“Can I choke you?” Hoseok asked.

“Please,” you replied, “do you want me to choke you too?”

“Yes,” Hoseok responded.

You felt yourself rhythmically clench around him. Hoseok must’ve realized because he began thrusting faster into you.

The room was filled with unholy noises. You could hear the wet sounds of your entrance and the impact of Hoseok’s hips against your core.

“Fuck don’t stop,” you choked out.

The knot building up in your abdomen unravelled, and pleasure and relaxation spread through your body. Your core gripped onto Hoseok like a vice.

“H-Hoseok,” you stammered, your core overstimulated.

“I-I want you to squirt,” he replied, continuing his firm thrusts.

“Oh,” you moaned.

He pounded deeper into your core, to the point where you could feel his tip ram against your cervix.

“Ah!” You screamed, feeling yourself gush around him.

“Fuck, so good,” Hoseok groaned. “I-I’m cumming.”

You felt the condom fill up inside you, and you felt disappointed that his cum couldn’t coat your walls.

His thrusts slowed down, and he stood still for a few moments.

When he pulled out, you shivered with oversensitivity. You knew that your sheets would be a mess and weren't looking forward to cleaning them when Hoseok left.

You looked up at the ceiling, breathless, while you heard Hoseok walk away from the bed.

“Where do you put your towels?” He asked.

“In the hallway, in the closet beside the dryer and washing machine.” You replied.

You heard him walk into the hallway and the closet door open and close. “Thanks,” he said. “And your bedsheets?”

“The closet in my room.”

You heard him walk back into your room, open your walk-in closet that led into your bathroom, and shuffle around. The tap ran in your bathroom for a couple seconds, then the sound of Hoseok wringing out something.

You began to sit up, but he hushed you to lie back down.

“Just relax,” he soothed, placing the clean bedsheets on your bedside table and walking over to you with a damp cloth.

“You don’t have to—”

He placed a hand on your thigh. “It’s okay,” he reassured.

You two exchanged a quick smile before Hoseok began to clean you up.

“You didn’t even cum on me,” you chuckled as he gently wiped your inner thighs.

“I know,” he replied, “but I still made you messy.”

When your thighs were no longer covered in your cum, you two changed your bedsheets.

“You good sleep in the same bed?” You asked while folding over your duvet.

“Sure,” He smiled.

You walked into your closet. "There should be some clothes that fit you. I usually wear men's clothes at home, anyways. It's crazy how great the quality men's clothes are compared to women's clothes." You picked out a t-shirt and sweatpants and tossed them at Hoseok.

He caught them, “Thanks.”

You two showered separately and spent the time getting ready together dancing to tunes.

If someone were to walk into the room, it wouldn’t look or smell like you two just had sex. You two looked like close friends having a dance party before going to bed.

Again, after you two had sex the first time, you both agreed to stay friends. It was easier said than done.

It was awkward initially, but you both were able to get past that by talking it through. Hoseok would ask how you felt during sex and what could have been better, and you would return the question.

Now, you both were able to have a good time and intimately learn more about each other.

Sure, it was strange, but it was a mutual agreement between consenting adults and fun.

The sex was fun—great, really—and you couldn’t have it any other way.

But you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t feel like something was missing.

“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted your fellow designers, “this is Hoseok. If you don’t know him already, he’s a well-known musician and one of my closest friends.”

Everyone welcomed Hoseok with a warm round of applause.

“Thank you, it’s a pleasure to be here.” Hoseok thanked.

“Hoseok will be helping out here and there while he’s vacationing here for a month,” you explained, “so take it easy on him.”

People shared chuckles at your joke.

"Anyways, let's start looking over the design ideas. You all are very talented artists, and I want you to remember that this is a draft, which means that these ideas are not final. If your idea is rejected, it's okay. We'll continue to work on a collective theme for the show."

The morning was spent listening to everyone's design concepts. To follow your reputation, the designs were contained within suits and gowns. As mentioned before, the theme was Vancouver's nature, where the fashion show would be taking place.

You and your design team used the recycled fabrics—which were separated by colours, textures, and materials—while figuring out your drafts.

You asked your design team to draft some ideas because you couldn't think of anything to present.

You were pleasantly surprised that your whole team had ideas that you approved.

“This a phenomenal,” you awed, “Great job, Erinn.”

“Actually,” you grabbed the attention of the other team members, “you all did a great job. We will be using all these ideas for the show.”

Your team shared cheers.

“Y/N,” Rachel nudged your shoulder, “I’m sorry to ask, but now that we’ve got the designs all in order, what about the models? You wanted to have various body types, right?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered,” you whispered back.

You turned back to your design team. "You all know that this show is tougher than our last one because we are trying to include more body types, genders, races, just different kinds of people. Which means that we will need to cater our clothes to the models, rather than the other way around.” You smiled, “So you all can go home for the next week.”

You heard Rachel choke on her inhale.

"Although you all have the week off, I want you all to try drawing your designs on other body types. Experiment with materials and colours. Remember to take some of the recycled fabrics home with you, and feel free to come in to pick anything up. Just let Rachel and I know in advance, and we'll give notice to the front desk so they can let you in. When we reconvene in a week, which would be next Friday at nine-thirty, I need you all to be ready to translate your designs, colours, and materials to our models." You ordered.

“Any questions?”

Comfortable silence amongst everyone.

You nodded. "Awesome. Good luck, everyone. Contact me if you have any questions."

Your team started packing up.

“Y/N, does that mean we’re spending the next week casting?” Rachel asked.

“Yes, Rachel. Please contact Westly and schedule lunch tomorrow at noon to discuss modelling criteria. It’s probably going to be pretty loose, but we need to contact Westly before sending it out.” You answered. “If he’s not free at that time, try figuring out something later tomorrow. Then book a reservation for three at Romeo’s.”

“Alright, on it,” Rachel replied.

You turned to Hoseok, who seemed shocked.

“What?” You blushed.

He continued his surprised expression. “I haven’t seen you like this before.”

You chuckled. “How else are you supposed to run a company and organize and execute a fashion show in 3 months?”

Rachel tapped you on the shoulder. "Westly can do lunch tomorrow, at noon, at Romeo's. He and his team secured the venue with Vancouver Fashion Week and are currently collaborating with the interior designers to figure out how the place will look. West said he'll debrief you tomorrow, at lunch, about the rest of the progress."

You smiled. “Great! Thank you, Rachel. You can also take the rest of the day off.”

Rachel appeared to be stunned, not responding to your words.

You waved a hand in front of her face. “Rachel? You can take the rest of the day off.”

“Are you sure, Y/N?” She asked.

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t be telling you to if I wasn’t sure, would I?”

She gave it a thought. “I guess not.”

You grinned. “Just meet me at our main building tomorrow, at eleven-thirty, and we’ll go to Romeo’s together.”

Rachel nodded. “Thank you, Y/N,”

“No worries,” you smiled.

You and Hoseok watched her leave, leaving you two alone in the studio.

“I’m sorry, it passed my mind. You’re okay not joining us for lunch tomorrow, right?” You asked Hoseok.

He dismissed your apology by brushing a hand through the air, “It’s all good. You’ve got your shit to do.” He smiled, “It gives me time to tour around a bit, anyways.”

“Good,” you replied. “So, where to?”

You pulled apart the croissant, eating pieces one at a time. The butteriness covered your tongue in a warmth that mixed well with the iced coffee you and Hoseok shared.

The park was surprisingly empty, despite it being a Friday. Usually, it would be tough to find a spot decently away from others, mostly shaded by trees.

The inlet was a few meters away, allowing you two to see sailboats pass by. People also kayaked and canoed, and you could hear their laughter faintly on land.

Here, you and Hoseok would be shielded by looming trees and away from potential fans of Hoseok. It was a rarity to have those two things when spending time with Hoseok: privacy and security—peace and quiet.

“This is what you wanted to do?” You asked, finishing off the croissant.

He nodded, sipping the iced coffee. “Yeah. It’s quiet and nice here.”

You two people watched, enjoying the breeze and serene environment.

“I was thinking,” you cleared your throat, “about last night. Did you enjoy it?”

Hoseok set down the iced coffee. “Yeah. I always like hanging out with you.”

“I mean—the sex.”

He seemed shocked by your question.

“Yeah, that was good too. Why do you ask? You never brought up before.” He pointed out.

Because I am growing feelings for my childhood friend, who I now have sex with for fun. This wasn't a part of the agreement, I know. We agreed to not grow feelings for each other and just have sex for pleasure. But it's inevitable to develop feelings for someone you have sex for, right? Like, there are probably people out there that can distinguish sex from love—and I guess it started out like that—but for us?

Am I crazy?

“No reason,” you sighed. “I just wanted to know if there was anything I could have done better.”

Hoseok turned his body to you, smiling. “It was perfect.”

He gestured with his arms for a hug, and you obliged. His cologne smelt of freshly peeled oranges; it was a pleasant fragrance, and you found yourself snuggling closer.

The past month went by in a busy blur.

The model casting went well. You and Westley found fantastic individuals to present your clothing line, which was in the process of being altered to fit those people.

The venue was secured, and the guest list was being made by You and Westley.

“Maybe invite Hoseok,” Westley suggested.

You shook your head, “I can’t.”

"Why not?" He retorted. "The worse thing he could say is 'no,' and you can invite the whole band." He giggled. "Maybe I can meet Jimin in person."

You chuckled, “So that’s why you want me to invite Hoseok. Just because you made eye contact with Jimin for more than five seconds, it doesn’t mean that he’s into you. He’s straight.”

“How do you know?” Westley had a hand firmly on his hip.

“W-well, I haven’t asked him personally—”

"Then you can't assume he's straight!" Westley exclaimed. "The baseline isn't being heterosexual."

“True. Anyways, let’s get back to the guest list.” You chewed on your lip. “We have Harry Styles, BLACKPINK, Lizzo…”

Both of you ran down the list of a thousand attendees to the show in Vancouver. It was way smaller than fashion week or any of your previous shows, but it wasn't meant to be a big party.

Y/N [14:00]: Hey! Are you free and the boys on March 1st at 1 pm for about four hours, including an after-party until 10 pm, with food?

Hoseok [14:30]: Hiiiiii!! Sorry for the late text. I was asking the others. Yeah! That’s in 4 months? 🧐

Y/N [14:31]: Yeah, it’s for my fashion show. You can ask your company for that time? We’d provide the plane tickets and accommodation. You’d probably stay 3 days and 2 nights? You’d fly in the first day, sleep the one night, then attend the show the second day, sleep the second night, and fly out the 3rd day. I’ll need to know by the end of the week.

Hoseok [14:32]: Sounds good!!! I’ll ask my managers and let you know 👊

Y/N [14:33]: Awesome! Thanks 💚

Hoseok [14:33]: Np 💚

“So, Hoseok and the boys can come, but he has to confirm with his managers. He’ll let me know soon.” You relayed to Westley.

"Great! As long as we get confirmation from Hoseok at the end of this week, we can send out the invitations. We've checked with everyone's management, and they all seem to be busy. Worse comes to worst; we'll just have to move seats around." Westley advised.

He closed his laptop, and you followed.

“Alright, that seems to be all of the guest list business. I’ll get my team to start organizing plane tickets and accommodation.” He sighed, “shall we head to the studio to check on the design team?”

“Yes,” you replied.

Both of you were driven to the studio to check on the design team.

The studio was filled with models of various shades and shapes. Music played quietly in the background, and your coworkers and models grooved to the tunes. Designers pinned fabrics around people’s figures and sketched down measurements and ideas.

You and Westley went around checking on everyone, making sure gowns and suits were well in progress. A smaller group of people created ideas for shoes and were sending them out to shoemakers.

The rest of the day was spent getting to know the models, fixing measurements, finalizing some ideas, and briefing everyone about the plan for the next two months.

"Please have the gowns, suits, and shoes by the end of this month so we can start having the makeup artists consult all of you; to make sure the makeup correlates with the clothes and the models." You informed. "Thank you, everyone, for your amazing work."

Scattered “thank you”s responded, and our workday was over.

“You want to get some drinks?” Westley nudged.

You nodded, frankly too tired to answer but eager for a drink.

Both of you decided to walk to the high-class bar, which allowed private areas in the back for paying customers. You and Westley sat alone, away from the crowds of people near the entrance of the bar.

“To having a productive three months,” Westley sang, holding up his martini.

You sighed, “Cheers,” you tapped your peach Bellini glass against his, admitting a chime.

"Fuck," Westley cursed at the sip of his drink, "they're always stronger than I remember. "Anyways, the show is pretty much underway. Guestlist is handled, the venue is prepped and ready for us, the clothing is almost done. Oooo, I can’t wait to see it all together.”

You nodded.

“You don’t seem so excited, Y/N.”

“I am,” you replied.

“But?”

“I am excited.” You affirmed, although not living up to the word

Westley silenced, knowing when not to push your buttons.

He took a careful sip of his martini. “Where’s Hoseok?”

You fidgeted with your glass. "Hoseok went back to Korea. He only had a month of vacay, so," you left the sentence adrift.

“Did you enjoy his company?”

“Can we not talk about him right now? I rather not mix work and personal life.” You stated.

Westley acknowledged with a firm nod, finishing off his martini and asking for another.

“May I ask a question?”

“Sure.” You replied.

He cringed. “But if I ask, promise me you won’t fire me.”

You turned to him. “Depends on your question. You have to ask me first, then I can decide whether or not to fire you. I cannot make promises.”

“Why are you so off all of a sudden?” He genuinely asked.

You took a deep breath. “I’m not going to fire you, not for a long time. You’re my best worker, and I can’t let you go.”

"I feel like there's going to be a 'but' somewhere. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid." Westley sighed.

You nodded, “You’re right. And you’re right about my mood. I’ve been kind of off lately.”

“Because of Hoseok?”

"Yeah, to be honest." You admitted. "I feel like we're really close—more than just friends. We're on the same wavelength, you know? And whenever we're apart for a long time and then meet up again, it's like time has passed."

“And let me guess, you haven’t told him because you’re afraid to ruin your friendship.”

You scoffed. “There’s no need for sarcasm, West.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m just saying, it’s the oldest narrative in the book. One friend is falling for the other, and that one friend doesn’t want to confess their feelings because they’ve known the other person for years and are afraid of ruining that connection.” He took a sip of his martini. “But in the end, it’s two friends just pining over their feelings of love for each other.”

“But we’re different.” You argued.

"I guess so. The narrative doesn't really specify one friend is a famous fashion designer and the other being a famous musician—"

“I mean,” you interrupted, “we have sex every time we see each other.

Westley's mouth fell open in a silent gasp. His hand was placed on his chest, and his eyes stared into yours.

He tipped back his martini into his mouth, finishing it off. “Well, you didn’t mention the friends with benefits part.”

“I know!” You groaned. “That’s why it’s so complicated.”

"Is it really, though? Wouldn't confessing your feelings after you two have had sex so much make it slightly easier? Because it makes sense to grow feelings for someone you've known for a while and have had sex with on multiple occasions." Westley speculated.

“I didn’t say we had sex on multiple occasions—”

“Honey,” he began, “you said you’ve had sex with him every time you see each other, and you two meet a lot. It doesn’t take a detective to figure it out.”

"Anyways," he digressed, "the sooner you tell him, the better. There's no use debating over it for years, then finding out he's found someone else when he would've picked you anyways."

"Gosh, when you say it like that, it sounds like a romantic movie." You cringed, finishing your peach Bellini.

He shrugged. “Well, it kinda is.”

You chuckled. “Well, thanks for the advice.”

“Thank you for filling me in,” he smiled.

The week went by fast. Your design team was still working on alterations, so you were left brainstorming hair and makeup and contacting specialists in those fields.

You were sitting at home, knee-deep in Pinterest boards when your phone buzzed.

You stopped strolling through your laptop and peered down.

Hoseok [19:30]: We can come to your show!

Y/N [19:30]: Fantastic! I'll let my team know, and we’ll send out the invites.

You texted Westley, informing him that BTS could attend the show.

Westley [19:33]: Great! I'll let the rest of the team know, and we'll send the emails out tomorrow

Y/N [19:34]: Thanks!

Westley [19:35]: Np

You set down your phone and continued to add ideas to your private Pinterest board.

Your phone buzzed again.

Hoseok [19:55]: What are you doing right now?

You were puzzled.

Y/N [19:56]: Nothing much, just brainstorming ideas for the show. You?

Hoseok [19:57]: Just chilling in my room.

Hoseok [20:05]: I miss you

You chuckled at the text, thinking that Hoseok was drunk.

Y/N [20:05]: I miss you too, Hobi.

Hoseok [20:08]: …how much?

Again, you were puzzled by his text.

Y/N [20:10]: Wdym? I miss having you here? Is that what you mean?

Hoseok [20:11]: I mean, do you miss me intimately?

Y/N [20:14]: Like sex-wise?

Hoseok [20:14]: Fuck, I need you, Y/N.

You stared at his words.

Hoseok [20:18]: I miss your body and how perfectly you fit around me.

Your cheeks flushed.

Hoseok [20:21]: Can you video chat? Unless you’re not in the mood.

You panicked.

You were in the mood but weren't presentable. Your hair was messy, and you weren't wearing any makeup, and you were dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants.

Y/N [20:23]: Yeah, I’m in the mood. Just give me 5 mins.

You quickly got out of your seat and ran to your bedroom. You sifted through your closet and found the sexist clothing item you had: a red lingerie set. You quickly undressed and put on the set.

You looked into your full-length mirror and tried not to cringe. Your hair was a mess, and you weren’t wearing any makeup. It definitely looked like Hoseok's text came out of nowhere—and it did, but you somehow expected yourself to be decently presentable.

However, the lingerie set was doing you favours. The set was composed of a crotchless thong and a bralette that exposed your nipples.

Y/N [20:28]: I’m ready.

Your phone rang, and you answered, quickly propping it on your drawers across from your bed.

You were faced with a shirtless Hoseok, his cock already in his hand.

“Fuck, you look amazing.” He complimented breathlessly.

“Wow, you’re ahead of the game—and really? I’m a mess.” You chuckled.

He hissed, flinching in his grip. “Fuck, just take the compliment, Y/N.”

You cleared your throat. “Thank you.”

You sat a pit forward, angling your breasts towards the camera.

“What are you imagining, baby?” You purred.

“Y-You,” he stuttered, moving his hand up and down his cock.

“Mhm,” you moaned, “thinking up my pussy clenching around your cock, making it all wet.”

He nodded.

"You can do something if you want," he suggested. "You said you were in the mood."

Your eyes opened wide. “Wait a minute.”

You brought the phone with you on your journey, going back to your closet and fetching your dildo, lube, and vibrator. You hurried to the bathroom and propped your phone up against the closed door.

You suctioned the bottom of the dildo onto the titled floor. You placed the vibrator on the bathroom counter.

“You want to watch me bounce on this dildo and think of you?” You smirked, rubbing lube onto your hands, onto the toy, and onto your vagina.

“Fuck, yes,” he replied, stilling his hand around his cock for a moment.

“Did I say you could stop?” You spat.

“I’m waiting for you,” he smiled, making your heart melt.

You paused over the dildo, smiling back at him. “Awww, that’s actually kinda sweet. Thank you.”

You quickly washed your hands and grabbed the vibrator.

You crouched down and slowly onto the dildo.

“Fuck,” you moaned, tilting your head back at the feeling of being filled up. It didn’t hit the spots Hoseok did, but it was good enough.

You lifted yourself up and sunk back down again, rhythmically repeating the motion.

“Fuck, so good,” you sighed, overlooking the pain in your knees.

“That's right, baby, imagine me filling that pussy up," Hoseok groaned, following your rhythm while pumping his cock.

“Fuck yes,” you replied, “and I’m clenching around you so tight.”

You two exchanged moans at the sound of your pussy squelching around the dildo.

“Use the vibrator, baby,” Hoseok purred.

You hummed, grabbing the rose gold vibrator and turning it on. You place the buzzing toy on your clit, feeling pleasure rippling through your core.

“Fuck,” you hissed, speeding up your pace a bit.

“I-I’m getting close.”

“Yeah, baby?” Hoseok smirked. “You get off at me rubbing my cock? Imagining me buried inside your pussy, making you feel so good?"

You nodded. “But it’s not as you, baby.”

“I know—” He choked, appearing to be on the brink of his climax. “I fucking miss the way your pussy fit so well around me, no matter how many times I fucked you open.”

“Mhm,” you bit your lips, watching him with hooded eyes. “Don’t stop.”

“Who knew you were filthy enough to cum during cybersex?" He observed. "I'm not even there to touch you, but just thinking of me inside has you in ruins.”

“What would you do if I was with you right now?” You asked.

“I would fuck you until you couldn’t walk the next day,” he replied, “I’d fuck you until that pretty pussy is swollen.”

"F-fuck, I'm going to cum," you stuttered, feeling the familiar build-up in your core.

“M-me too,” he stammered.

You watched his head tilt back in pleasure and his cum squirt up from his cock.

“Fuck!” You cursed, feeling your pleasure shoot out of your core and onto the floor

“So hot,” Hoseok sighed.

You chuckled, coming down from high. You pulled yourself up and off the dildo, sitting on the cool tile floor.

“Fuck, did you squirt?” He asked, looking closer.

You nodded, gesturing to the mess on the ground.

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” he commanded and obliged, showing him your battered cunt.

You spread your lips, and he hummed at sight.

“So beautiful.” He awed.

“You happy? I need to wipe this all up, now,” you scoffed.

He chuckled. “It’s not my fault that you cummed.” He angled his phone to the floor, showing splashes of his cum on the floor, "and besides, you also made me make a mess.”

You both chatted while cleaning up your messes, talking about your days as if nothing happened. After finishing your clean-up, you two continued your conversation while showering, as if both of you were doing it together.

Ready to relax for the night, both of you signed off with exchanged ‘thanks’ and ‘good night.’

You turned off your phone with a soft click and stepped out of the steamy bathroom. Your pyjamas were soft on your skin, and you felt ready to go to bed.

Hopping onto your bed, you grabbed your laptop and turned on some Netflix to fall asleep to.

From an outsider’s perspective, masturbating with your best friend and then casually talking with them while showering and getting ready for bed was odd. Repeating the scenario in your mind did make it sound like you two were in a long-distance romantic relationship rather than a platonic one.

But you and Hoseok were different. That was your excuse.

A friend could do this and not catch feelings. You two were the perfect example of that.

Emphasis on were because you were currently spiralling in your growing romantic feelings for Hoseok.

But what would you do in this situation?

You and your childhood friend engage in sex one time and promise each other to not grow feelings. In this manner, you two could have sex without attachment. Fast forward into the future, and you both are still making this arrangement with no negative consequences and feel like you two have gotten to know each other better and have become better friends—until you catch feelings. And you don’t want to risk losing this relationship you two have.

Because he is a worldwide musician who can’t be tied down because it could risk his career, and he might lose fans—and you couldn't be bothered with any romantic commitment with your fast-paced and unpredictable work schedule.

So, you stay in this unnameable mess.

“Time flies by when you’re having fun,” Allie commented from the plush couch.

You looked in the mirror, twisting your back towards it to see the back of the dress. “I guess so.”

“You have to admit, planning a fashion show is pretty fun,” she said. “If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be doing it over and over again.”

“True,” you replied, turning to the stylist.

“May I see the other dress?” You asked, and the stylist nodded, retreating to somewhere in the shop you couldn’t see.

It was the last month until the show. Everything was in order: the show’s venue and its decorations, the clothes, makeup and hair for the models, and the guests’ accommodation. Now, it was your turn to find suitable attire for the occasion.

You tried on the next dress. It was a slim-fitting number, with a leg slit in the front. It was scandalous and stunning, but not right for the show.

“I don’t like any of these dresses,” you sighed, annoyed.

Allie appears to brainstorm some ideas.

“Maybe try a suit?” She proposed.

You kept your eyes on the mirror, twirling your figure and watching the fabric move at your feet.

“Think about it,” she began, “think of all the powerful women who’ve worn suits and killed it. Zendaya, Kristen Stewart, Blake Lively, Awkwafina. The list goes on. It’s a statement piece, and you’re the big brain behind this operation.”

“I think it’s ‘mastermind behind this operation,’ but I get what you mean.” You corrected.

“You literally bypassed my whole point—”

“I know, I know,” you interrupted. “It’s just—suits for women are so overpriced. And it’s just like the dresses, except a different fit. Same colour palettes, same materials, so on.”

Allie scoffed. "You're a fucking fashion designer, did you forget? Make your own thing. There are leftover fabrics at your studio; you have time to make something." Her face lit up, “And, technically, it’s for free.”

You gave it a thought, but the stylist came back before you could finish it.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Vega, but I’m not finding anything, and I don’t want you walking back and forth and bringing me more dresses.” You gave an apologetic smile. “Thank you very much for your help.”

"No worries, Y/N! Just hang up the dress when you take it off, and I’ll deal with the rest,” she replied.

“Will do,” you said, and she stepped out of the room.

Allie helped you unzip the gown, and you shimmed out of it. You did as you were told and hung up the dress, and you and Allie left the shop.

The walk back to the studio was quick, you two making determined strides through the crowded city.

You and Allie entered the empty studio, turning on the nights.

The studio was organized chaos with dressed mannequins, big boxes of fabrics in the back of the room, and papered patterns on the tables.

“Wow,” Allie awed.

"Yeah," you replied, leading you both to your master station is near the back, "it's crazy what a couple months before a show looks like.”

You looked through the drawers beside your desks and grabbed the tools you'll need to plan out the suit.

“So, just a suit jacket and pants…” You said, grabbing some paper to sketch up your pattern.

You looked up at Allie, “Do you mind helping me out with measurements?”

She nodded, “For sure. What do you need?”

You guided Allie on how to measure your proportions for the suit. She measured your inseams for your pants, the sleeves, the cuts, and so on. In between, you'd write down the dimensions for the patterns.

You two sifted through the fabrics to create a monochrome patchwork outfit. The suit would be shades of cherry red, with different materials making it up. There were no patterns in the patchwork, only various tones of red in several types of wool.

“Fucking hell,” Allie cursed while sifting through the materials, “who would’ve thought there were so many shades of red.”

She held up a piece of recycled fabrics, checking with you that it was the correct tone. You took it and held the portion against the others.

“Nope, too dark,” you shook your head.

"What? It looks exactly the same," she disagreed, walking over to your table. When comparing the fabrics, she made an 'aaah’ sound, letting you know that you were right.

Before sectioning off your pattern, you tried your best to evenly sew all the material together into a quilt-like form.

“Jesus,” you muttered, shaking out your sore hands.

“We don’t have to get this all done today, you know. You do have two months left.” Allie advised.

"I know. I just want to put this all together first," you replied, continuing to push the material through the sewing machine.

“Alright,” she surrendered, bringing one of the seats over to your table.

You sewed in silence for a bit.

“So,” Allie began, “how are you and Hoseok doing?”

You paused. “What do you mean?”

“You know…you two and your arrangement.”

You scoffed, “Our arrangement? You mean us having sex?”

“Yeah, but the other stuff.”

You pulled your hands from the sewing machine, crossing your arms over your chest. "Just spit it out, Al."

“Well, you’ve had mixed feelings with Hoseok, right? Like you’re starting to like him?” She speculated.

Your mouth gaped open. “Have you been talking to West?”

She didn’t respond, not making eye contact.

“You can’t be fucking serious. You two are ganging up on me!” You yelled.

“Y/N, we’re just worried.”

“About what? I have feelings—and?” You fumed.

She sighed. “You shouldn’t be having sex with someone if you’re growing romantic feelings, especially if you two agreed to be platonic.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you stood.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed. "Don't you dare talk to me that way? I am your friend, not your enemy." Allie stood up and sighed. “I get it. You don’t like people in your business. That’s fair. I just feel like you're sacrificing yourself for Hoseok when you could talk about it with him."

“Allie, you don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.” You spat.

“I get it,” she sympathized. “I don’t. I’m not you or Hoseok.”

“So, tell me,” she said. “Educate me on the situation. I am not here to judge. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

“It’s okay,” she forgave, “just don’t push me away so fast, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed.

She sat down, “So?”

You sat down and rehashed your feelings about you and Hoseok to her: the growing romantic feelings for him, not knowing what to do, and wanting something more.

“Well, do you think it’d work out between you two if you dated?” She asked.

You shifted in your seat. "I honestly don't know. It's tough with Hoseok's work because he has a loyal fanbase. I'm afraid he's going to get even more hate if we were to date.”

“But would you two be happy?” She asked.

You gave it a thought. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you go into a relationship regardless of other people. Whether you’re a celebrity or an ordinary person, you date someone for you and that person; no one else. There are going to be people who support and hate your relationship no matter what. What matters is what the two people think in the relationship."

She sighed. “You cannot control what others will think about you. No matter what you do or who you do, you're going to upset someone. So, just do what feels comfortable and safe with you."

You hummed, understanding.

“So, would you be happy if you and Hoseok dated?”

“Yes.” You stated without a thought. “I really like him—love him even.”

"Then that's all that matters," Allie replied.

The week before, the show crept on you faster than you expected. You, your team of designers and event organizers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists flew into Vancouver a week early to prepare on location.

However, the majority of the week would be spent preparing for the show. The first day was spent unloading all of the outfits and equipment for the show into the venue. Everyone was required to show up to organize their stations and to familiarize themselves with the venue.

“Please set up your stations while Westley and I look into the main runway and after part section. We’ll be back in around two hours to check up on everyone. If you have any questions while we're gone, please contact me on my phone." You held up your cellphone and everyone nodded. "Great. Good luck, everyone!"

The venue and interior designers' owners toured you and Westley around the place, showing you the drawn floorplans, running down the prices, and checking that the decorations correlated with your plans.

“These weren’t the chairs we sent over,” Westley pointed to the black folded chairs lining the runways.

“Yes, but these were within the price range and—” One of the interior designers, Queeny, said.

“But did we get an email regarding this change?” You interjected.

Queeny exchanged looks with the other three decorators, and they shook their heads.

Wesley let out an angry sigh. "Well, I guess we’ll have to live with these then.” He sat down on one of the chairs. “At least they’re comfortable. They look cheap, but they’re sturdy.”

“Are there any more changes you made without informing as?” You asked.

They all shook their heads.

"Great." You turned to one of the two-venue owners, named Ruby. "Shall we continue to the after-party part?”

“Yes,” she replied, gesturing to the doorway that led to the front reception area.

From the reception area, where guests would check-in and get a wristband, a double-door way on the right led to a ballroom for the after-party.

The overall theme of the place was classic European designs with off-white luxurious walls and chandeliers. The ceilings were intricately carved, and the floors were a smooth white oak. Just walking around made you feel like you were dirtying the place.

“This place is stunning,” Westley whispered.

“I know,” you replied, “you chose the place.”

“I know,” he smiled, pretending to flip his hair.

You both chuckled, continuing to follow the owners around the venue.

Everything worked out, besides the chairs, so you and Westley checked on the designers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists.

At the end of the workday, everyone was in order and ready for the next three days of dress rehearsals and solving and problems.

You arrived back at your hotel with sore feet and exhaustion.

Your phone rang as you flopped onto your bed.

You answered. “Hobi!”

“Y/N! How was your flight to Vancouver?” He asked.

“It was good. We didn't have a rest day, though. We had to settle into the place and check it over. My feet are so sore.” You groaned.

“Really? I thought you’d at least have a rest day when you guys arrived,” he assumed.

You shook your head. “No. Sadly, this whole week will be walking around and making sure everything is going smoothly.”

He sighed. “Shit. That sucks.” You heard him shift on the other side of the phone. “Do you want to relax?”

You laughed. “Jung Hoseok, did you seriously booty call me from across the world?”

Hoseok gasped, "I did not! I was talking about watching Netflix or something." He chuckled, "You're so dirty-minded."

You both laughed.

“Okay, so what do you want to watch?” He asked on the other end of the call.

You brought out your laptop and scrolled through the movie selection.

“Oooo! Let’s watch Hush. I’ve heard so many good things about it.” You recalled.

You could hear his hesitation.

Hoseok did not like being scared. Whenever you watched anything scary, you were afraid that your neighbours would complain at how loud his screaming was. As you remembered saying "hello" to him once and him screaming in fear and surprise, he was also easily frightened.

“We don’t have to,” you said.

“No, no,” Hoseok reassured, “we’ll watch it. Just send me the Netflix Party link, and I'll ready the Zoom link."

You giggled. “You don’t have to be brave for me, Hobi. I know you don’t like scary movies.”

“You want to watch it, so let’s do it,” he said, “and the ratings are good.”

“Okay,” you digressed. “I’m texting you the link right now.”

“Same,” he replied.

You two hung up and joined the links.

“Hello!” Hoseok beamed, dancing.

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at his burst of energy. “Hello, Hobi.”

You carried your laptop to the bathroom and began getting ready for bed.

“How was your day?” You asked.

Hoseok described him and his bandmates' film day for "Run! BTS," and you groaned at all the work they had to do.

He laughed. “But we got to play games, which was fun. We laughed so much that my abs hurt.” You watched him lift up his shirt and show his toned abdomen.

Your core felt a familiar flutter.

“W-wow, that must be a lot of laughing,” you cleared your throat and took out your toothbrush and toothpaste.

For the moment, the time difference worked for you two because it was almost ten at night for you and nearly three in the afternoon for him.

“Should I turn off my camera?” You asked before undressing to get into the shower.

He shook his head. “I’m okay with you leaving it on. I’ve seen you naked before, so it’s not really different. But if you’re uncomfortable, you can just turn it off.”

You shrugged and began taking off your clothes in full view of the camera and screen.

You noticed Hoseok’s expression.

“Enjoying the show?” You chuckled, finally taking off your undergarments and fully exposing yourself.

Hoseok smirked, “Don’t act like you weren’t just turned on by my abs. I saw how you looked at me.”

You nodded and surrendered. “Fair point.”

You hoped in the shower, and you two continued talking.

“Jesus, we haven’t started the movie yet,” Hoseok commented while you were washing your hair.

“Shit, right,” you laughed, massaging the shampoo into your scalp.

After you hoped out of the shower and dried your body and hair, you both started to watch the movie.

“This is a pretty cool premise. Like, we’ve never seen a deaf person in a horror movie before,” you regarded.

"True, that's a good point—AHHHHHH!" Hoseok screamed at the sudden slam in the movie.

You burst into laughter.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, trying to calm himself with controlled breaths.

The movie continued as you finished off your skincare and put on your pyjamas.

The oversized t-shirt was long enough to cover your thighs.

“You’re going to watch this before bed?” Hoseok gasped.

You chuckled. “Yeah. It’s not that scary.” You say as you jump at the sound of breaking glass in the film.

Hoseok laughed at the coincidental timing.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you woke up to the sound of your alarm.

“Shit,” you grumbled and turned it off.

You heard Hoseok stir awake on the Zoom call.

Both of you had fallen asleep, but Hoseok finished the movie before you could; because you saw the end credits paused in the Netflix Party.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s okay,” Hoseok mumbled, squinting at the screen.

“I’ll let you sleep,” you smiled, hovering your cursor over the "send" button.

He softly smiled, “thank you.” He snuggled into his pillow, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Hobi,” you replied, ending the call for both of you.

It didn’t hit you until you were halfway through your dress rehearsal, but Hoseok had stayed with you while you slept. He didn't wake you but quietly continued the movie and fell asleep.

Hoseok was usually sweet, so you didn't pay too much attention to it.

But it did make you feel special.

It was the day of the fashion show, and you were fucking nervous.

You had done this before, a show, but this one was different. You had put in so much effort and were proud of how it turned out but were afraid of what other people would think.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Allie assured through video call,” it’ll be excellent, and everyone won’t stop talking about it.”

“Probably,” you replied, putting on your makeup.

“It will be excellent, Y/N. I am so sure I will bet money.” She stated.

You chuckled, "then I'll take your word for it because I am not bidding money.”

You both laughed.

“Okay, I know I already showed you my outfit, but are you sure it looks good?” She asked, putting on the A-line floor-length dress she’d shown you before. It was a beautiful viridian green with lace shoulder straps that draped over the sides of her biceps.

“You look beautiful,” you complimented, setting your makeup with setting spray and heading to your closet.

You put on the suit you made and looked in the mirror. You looked a bad bitch.

“You look great! Oooo, put on the red bottoms,” Allie squealed.

You put on the signature Louis Vuitton black high heels with the ruby bottoms.

Your phone buzzed.

“I got to go; Westley is here with our ride to the venue. I’ll see you there!”

“See you!” She waved, ending the call.

You did a quick check in the mirror, fixing your hair, grabbed your bags, and headed out the door.

Your driver waited outside the vehicle as you approached, and opened its door, showing you a well-dressed and excited Westley.

"Oh my god, you look great!" He gasped. “When did you make the suit?”

“I finished it a week before we flew out,” you chuckled, “and you look great too! I love the pine on you.”

You took a step back and looked at Westley’s crisp pine-coloured suit with matching brown dress shoes.

“Thank you,” he grinned. “Okay, get in before we become late.”

You hopped into the car, and your driver got in and started the vehicle.

The drive was spent recalling your opening and closing speeches with Westley and the show's agenda.

“So, five pm is when the show ends, and then the guests for the after-party go into the ballroom area. Food is served at six pm, and everything is wrapped up at ten pm.” Westley relayed.

You nodded, “Yup.”

Both of you arrived a couple hours before the start time, which was at 1 pm, to set everything up and warm up the models and crew.

Westley checked the organizers and the models while you went to the runway area to check the lights and sound.

"Let's rerun the lights, please!" You announced as you walked into the runway room. "Can I get a headset, please?" You ask the crew on the ground, who nodded.

“Yup!” You heard the lighting crew respond.

You were given the headset, and you heard the head light technician’s voice.

“Can you hear me?” They checked.

“Yes,” you confirmed.

They ran by the six light settings for the show, and it was all correct.

“It’s perfect, thank you. Can you please check that the sound is alright?” You asked through the headset.

“Yup. You’ll have to hand the headset to another person, though, and we’ll give you a mic.” They added.

You heard their muffled voice as if they covered their mic's headset with their hand. Next, you had someone hand you a mic and take your headset.

“You’ll need to stand on the stage,” The person said.

“Okay,” you replied, going to the runway and standing on the end portion.

All the room’s lights turned on, and you could see the lighting crew’s area in the back and the chair organized around the runway.

“You can speak into the mic!” You heard someone shout.

You started speaking nonsense in the mic, like the type of weather outside, as they adjusted the volume.

“Thank you!” Someone shouted.

“Thanks,” you said into the mic before handing it to one of the crew.

“Is there anything to report? Any problems that arose before I got here?” You asked the crew.

They all shook their heads.

“How is everyone feeling?” You asked.

They all shared nervous laughter, and a few people said “good.”

“Alright, if there’s anything you all need, just come to the modelling area and ask me. It’s in the backroom.”

They all nodded, and you left them to their business.

You arrived in the backroom and saw designers fitting their outfits on the models and makeup artists and hairstylists prepping their stations.

“How is everybody doing?!” You enthusiastically asked.

They cheered with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"I get it. Everyone is on their toes. You all have an hour left to set things up before people start filing in. Remember, the show starts at 1 pm. The door opens thirty minutes before them.”

They call responded with various forms of understanding, and you went around to check on them individually.

Rachel came and taped your shoulder, with a headset on, “So, the guards are in their posts, and the front is ready to check people in.”

“Is there a line already?” You asked.

Rachel pressed down the headset, asking the crew on the other end.

“Yes, there’s a line of people outside,” she reported, “about twenty people, so far.”

"Shit, yeah, let them in. It's probably cold." You ordered.

“I’ll tell them,” she replied.

“Okay, everyone! We’re starting to let people in. Again, you all have about an hour left, so try to wrap things up and relax. Thank you!” You announced.

Again, sounds of understanding, and you, Westley, and Rachel left the backroom.

“Rachel, Westley and I are going to check that the ballroom area and catering are all handled. Please check in with the front desk to see how they're doing, and then meet us in the ballroom." You told.

“Got it, Y/N,” Rachel answered, walking past the two of you and towards the front area.

Westley appeared impressed. “She's terrific. She's even got the headset and everything."

"I know, right? She's cool." You remarked.

Like clockwork, you and Westley ran over the details and schedule for the catering and the after-party. Everyone had places to sit, with elegantly decorated name cards.

Everything was ready.

"Fantastic, thank you," you thanked the caterers and the staff in the ballroom. "Feel free to come into the runway area during the show if you all would like to watch."

With that, it was about time the show would start. You and Westley hurried backstage, where you both were handed microphones.

The lights dimmed, and classical music played—fitting the theme of elegance and high class.

You and Westley regarded each other, did an excellent handshake, and strutted out on the runway. Both of you were met with applause from the crowd and blinding spotlights.

You two walked to the end of the runway and let out an exhausted sigh.

The music quieted, faintly heard in the background.

“And that’s why I’m not a model,” Westley joked, causing the crowd to giggle.

“Same here,” you chuckled.

“Anyways, welcome to the show, everyone!” You cheered, and the crowd clapped. “As you know, I am Y/N, and this is Westley. Today, we’ll be showing recycled elegant clothes on people. Not just models, but people. All the clothes you'll be seeing here today are made from recycled fabrics and hand-crafted by our design team and me."

Applause.

"We wanted to represent people, so we got people to present our clothes. Redundant, I know, but the fashion industry rarely shows models that look like people. Don’t get me wrong, they’re all fantastic. However, this show will be different. Enjoy!” Westley waved.

A final round of applause while you and Westley walked off the runway.

The show went smoothly and wonderfully. The changes were fluid, and there were no clothing mishaps. The classical music turned into upbeat music that everyone seemed to groove to. Models danced on the runway while walking, and there were joyful cheers in the crowd.

In the end, you and Westley gave your brief thank you speeches, and months of planning and work were officially completed.

When everyone was backstage, you all collectively cheered.

“Phenomenal job, everyone!” You praised. “I am speechless at how well we all did. Thank you all for being such wonderful people to work with.”

Smiles and cheers were shared as everyone got ready for the after-party.

“Okay, remember that food is being served at six o’clock, and you all will be able to find your names at a table.” You reminded.

You and Westley did a quick check-up on people before heading to the ballroom area to socialize.

“Great job, you two!” Some complimented.

You and Westley thanked the praise and had a small talk with some colleges.

“Hey, Y/N!” You heard a familiar voice say.

You turned and say Hoseok with the rest of the boys, waving.

“Hey!” You smiled, nudging Westley to join you.

"Well, enjoy the after-party," Westley grinned at the other guests before joining you.

As always, the seven boys were well-dressed in designer suits. Hoseok wore lightly tinted shades paired with a dark suit and floral dress shirt. His hair was wavy.

“That was awesome, Y/N,” Namjoon said.

“Thank you!” You replied.

“Yeah, Y/N, I loved the recycled-fabrics idea. Are anything on sale?” Taehyung asked.

You nodded. "Everything will be on sale next month. I'll send you the dates, so you mark them in your calendar. The clothes go fast," you chuckled.

“Damn,” Taehyung remarked, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, Jimin,” Westley greeted.

“Hey West,” Jimin smiled, “loved your speech today. That suit looks great on you.”

“I know,” Westley smirked, “you look good too.”

"How are you feeling?" Hoseok asked, letting Westley and Jimin casually flirt.

You sighed. “Glad that it’s over, to be honest. It was fun, of course, but it's a lot of work to organize."

“Oh my god, is that Charlie Puth?” Jungkook gasped, hiding slightly behind Namjoon.

Everyone laughed.

"You should go and say 'hi,' Kook. You've already met and sung with him before. You two are practically friends." Yoongi expressed.

“True,” you agreed, “and Charlie’s a nice guy.”

“Okay,” Jungkook straightened his posture, “I’ll do it.”

You all watched Jungkook walk over and begin chatting with Charlie Puth.

“God, he’s grown up so much,” Seokjin sighed.

The rest of you caught up and chatted about the show.

Before you knew it, Westley was poking your side to let you know it was five minutes until six.

“Shit,” you cursed. “Sorry to cut this convo short, but Westley and I have to announce dinner. We’ll talk soon!”

You all said your goodbyes, and you and Westley went up to the front to state it was time for food.

You two were seated with Rachel, Allie, and a couple others. Everyone ordered off a menu, which served various kinds of pasta, salads, and a mix of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.

It was an excellent way to end off the show.

There was a dancefloor, too, where people could groove to music after eating.

Of course, the seven boys went to the dancefloor, which caused others to join.

You were finishing off your fettuccine alfredo when Hoseok danced over to your table. You chuckled as he held his hand out and quirked a brow.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, taking his hand.

“You love it,” he smirked, pulling you off your chair and leading you to the dancefloor.

You danced together, along with your friends. He held your hands as you two swayed to the slow songs and body-rolled with you during the upbeat songs. Of course, a few BTS songs played, and everyone tried to follow the known choreography. You went back to your table for a drink of water, and Allie came with you. "Look, and you and Hoseok dancing up a storm," she teased. “Shut up,” you chuckled. “The chemistry is there, Y/N,” she commented. You drank your water. "Not now, Al." “Come on! He’s here for, what, the night and then gone tomorrow morning? When will you see him again?” She asked. You paused, honestly unsure when you'd see Hoseok again. “Now or never, Y/N. How much longer can you debate this?” “I know,” you replied. “I’ll do it later tonight.” Around nine-thirty, the party was dying down, with only a few guests scattered around the venue helping to clean up. You made eye contact with Allie, who was tending to the chairs, who nudged towards Hoseok’s direction. Now or never. You said in your head. “Can I speak to you, Hoseok?” You asked, walking up to him. “For sure!” He replied. You led both of you to a secluded part of the venue, away from listeners. “Did you enjoy the show?” You asked. “Yeah! You did a fantastic job, Y/N. I love how everything turned out, the colours, the recycled fabrics were great—and your suit! I can’t believe you made it,” Hoseok complimented, stepping back to look at your attire. “Thank you,” you blushed. You gave a quick look around to make sure no one was around. “Is everything alright, Y/N? You’re looking around as if they’re spies around.” He gasped. “Are there spies around? What secret don’t they know?” “I don’t want to have sex with you anymore.” You abruptly stated. A stretch of silence. Hoseok’s expression was a mixture of surprise and concern. “What?” “I can’t have sex with you anymore.” “You can’t or don’t want to? Is it something I did?” “Yes? No? In a way?” You pondered. You took a few deep breaths. "I like you, Hoseok—possibly even love you.” You ran your hand through your hair. “I know we agreed not to catch feelings, so I think we should stop having sex.” You watched his expression shift from some form of being happy to disappointment. “You know I cannot date with work,” he explained, "with the fans, touring, and whatnot, I cannot date someone. And you have your company to work on." “I know,” you replied. “But do you like me back?” You asked. “I do—” “You do?” You were on the verge of hugging him, but he stepped back. You looked at him, confused. “We can’t—” “Why?” “I literally just told you, Y/N. With work, dating wouldn’t allow it. I already have people—” He choked on his words. “People who wish I was dead, j-just for being me.” “Hoseok—” You reached out to him, but he gently pushed you away. “No,” he objected, “I’m fine. I just don’t want to add you to the mess.” “You can’t decide that for me.” You retorted. “I understand that you don’t want to add me to it, but I’m okay with it. I don't care what other people would say about us. They're not in the relationship, we are—" “But what if I care?” He said, almost too quiet for you to hear. “I’m the happy guy of BTS, who’s dedicated to his work.” “But are you truly happy?” You peered into him. “Yeah,” he replied, avoiding eye contact, “but it gets really hard sometimes.” “So, let me help, Hoseok,” you pleaded. "I don't need to be helped! I'm not another project for you to work on.” He thundered. “You know that’s not what I meant.” You seethed. “Let’s just drop it, okay? We’re not dating, that’s it.” He dictated. “Fine.” You replied. “Have a safe trip back home.” You left without another word, trying your best not to cry. Out of all the ways you thought he'd respond, this took you off guard. Hoseok wasn't one to push you away, but here he was doing so. “Fuck this,” you whimpered, walking up to Allie. “I’m going back to the hotel, sorry,” you said, turning away as soon as possible. “Y/N!”

You washed your face and hoped into the shower—the warm water soothing your sore muscles and emotions. You couldn’t tell if it was the water or your tears streaming down your face.

What else did you expect? Hoseok had a point: with his work, he couldn’t date someone. And it was ridiculous that Hoseok would want to date you.

However, instead of sulking over Hoseok, you decided to have a bath and put on a facemask.

The room’s phone rang while you were starting the bath.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Y/N Y/L/N?

“Speaking,” you confirmed.

“Great! There’s a man here, named,” a muffled noise, “Hoseok Jung.”

“Tell him I’m busy, please,” you replied.

Another muffled noise. “Hoseok says he's sorry and that he has ice cream—cookie dough. But if he’s dangerous, I can call the police.”

“No, no. God no,” you said.

You bit your lip. "You can send Hoseok up."

“Okay. However, if there’s anything wrong, please try to press the red button on the receiver. I will check back with you in an hour. If there’s no response, I’ll get someone to check on you.” They informed.

“Thank you,” you replied, slightly shocked by their concern.

You hung up.

A few minutes later, you heard a knock on the door. You tightened your robe.

You checked the peephole before cracking the door open.

“Hi,” you greeted.

“Hey," he smiled. "I'm sorry for leaving you like that at the party. It was sudden and insensitive. I should have been more considerate of your feelings rather than shutting you off.”

“I was just—scared. I don’t know what it’s going to be like for us. And I don't want you to fix me—but I like you, a lot—so I brought cookie dough ice cream and two spoons—"

“Do you want to come in?” You interrupted his nervous rambling.

“Yes, thank you,” he chuckled.

Hoseok still wore the suit from the fashion show, but his jacket was folded over his arm, and his dress shirt was unbuttoned lower.

“Oh, you’re running the bath,” he noticed. "We can deal with this later if it's a bad time."

“No, it’s alright. I’ll just turn off the water.” You replied, going to the bathroom to do so.

When you came back, Hoseok was sitting on the edge of your bed.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” You asked, sitting beside him.

He opened the ice cream tub, setting the lid on the desk and handing you one of the spoons.

“I was thinking you could talk more, actually; about how you feel," he replied, giving you the tub and angling himself to face you. "I just want to listen to you this time."

You gave a brief smile before spooning a small piece of ice cream into your mouth.

“Well, I just feel like we’re in this grey area of being really close but having sex. And we both like each other, and we said at the venue, and I just feel like we should just date then.” You set the ice cream and spoon down on the desk. “I get that work complicates things for you. But once we’ve confessed our feelings, I just don’t know what to call this—this friendship?”

Hoseok nodded.

"So, if you don't want to date, that's completely fine. I understand. However, we can't keep having sex like we used to; because I have feelings for you now, and you said you do too, so it's not a good mix."

“That’s fair,” he acknowledged.

“But what do you think? Like, how do you feel about us?” You asked.

He paused and set his spoon on the desk with yours. “I want to date you, Y/N. I just don’t want to get you hurt.” He softly grasped your hands. “The industry can be toxic, and I don’t want to subject you to that.”

“I understand,” you replied, “but I want to date you too, regardless of all the other bullshit. As cheesy as it sounds, all I want is you, Hoseok.”

Hoseok smiled but then pretended to gag.

“Hobi! I was romantic."

“Sorry, but that was so cheesy.” He cringed.

“So, do you want to just start dating, then?” You proposed. “We have the ice cream here; we can pretend to get to know each other more.”

He chuckled. “Sure. Let’s do that.”

Hoseok stood up and held his hand out to you. “Y/N Y/L, will you go on a date with me?”

You laughed but composed yourself. “I would love to, Jung Hoseok.” You took his hand, and he immediately sat back down.

“So, Y/N,” Hoseok began, handing you the partially melted ice cream and your spoon, “what do you like to do on the weekends?”

1 year later.

“I’m thinking of moving to Korea,” you said. Hoseok turned to you, surprised. “Really? But you’re not based here.” “I know,” you acknowledged, “but I can fly in and skype, or whatever. I can have a home base here, too.” You were visiting Hoseok for a couple weeks before you had to go back home for a clothing launch. Both of you were cuddling at his place when you brought up your idea of moving to Korea. “Of course, it wouldn’t be immediate. I would need to sort things out with Westley and Rachel and organize a place to stay here and a work area. The company is sturdy enough to handle the change.” You reasoned. “You could move in with me,” he suggested, turning his body to face you. “Are you sure?” “Yeah, why not. We’ve been dating for a while now, and it makes sense.” He shrugged. “Unless you don’t want to.” You kissed him. “No, I want to.” Both of you discussed what your move would be like and imagined living together. If you were to look back at how your relationship with Hoseok progressed, you would be shocked. In a matter of a few months, you and Hoseok went from friends to romantic partners. Although you had not come out publicly about your relationship, many people had a sense it existed; but that didn’t matter. You and Hoseok were in a secure and healthy relationship. It was long distanced, but you two made it work by visiting each other when you could and calling almost every day. The only thing that didn’t change was the sex—although it had gotten better. Nevertheless, so much has happened over the past year. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#jhope bts #jhopoe fanfic #jhope smut #jhope fluff #jhope angst #hoseok smut #hoseok angst #hoseok fluff #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #ficswithluv #houseofddaeng #hobiuary2021 #hodevent

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gryffindorcls · 4 years ago

Text

The Surprise Guest

Hello, lovely readers!

A few months ago I was asked to write a piece for the @mlpandemicreliefzine. It was such a fun project to be a part of, and now that it's been out for a while, I am happy to share with you the fluffy Marichat one-shot I wrote for the zine.

Happy reading!

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SUMMARY: One Friday night, Chat Noir accidentally barges in on a "girl's night" sleepover happening in Marinette's room. After being encouraged to stay, Chat joins the group in a game of truth or dare during which Marinette reveals the name of the boy she loves.

LENGTH: 2972 words

AO3 FANFICTION

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RAP RAP RAP

Marinette’s heart stopped.

“Is someone knocking on a window?” Alya pushed herself off the ground and padded across the room.

“N-no! I...uhh...it’s probably just the wind!” Marinette sprang out of her seat and tried to pull Alya back to the circle of girls sitting in the middle of the floor. “Don’t worry about it! Mario Kart is waiting for us!”

RAP RAP RAP

“There it is again!” Alya stood on her tiptoes and peered out the window next to Marinette’s desk. “That’s funny I could have sworn-”

The hatch above the lofted bed swung open with a bang. All heads turned towards the sound as a mop of blond hair poked through the opening.

“Princess, are you in here? Are you okay? I was knocking, and I didn’t see...oops.” Chat Noir’s eyes scanned the room. “Hello, ladies.”

“Oh, look!” Alya locked eyes with Marinette and gestured towards the hatch. “The wind has a face.”

Marinette groaned and buried her face in her hands. “This can’t be happening.”

“Oh, but it is, and I can’t wait to hear you explain your way out of this one.”

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“Really? Because to me, it looks like one of Paris’s heroes is asking to come in, and judging by his cute little nickname for you, I’m guessing that this isn’t the first time he’s paid you a visit. How am I doing so far, Princess Marinette?”

“Unfortunately, you’re doing pretty well.”

Chat ducked behind the lip of the opening. “Did I come at a bad time?”

Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose. “I told you that I was busy today.”

“I forgot.”

“Obviously.”

“If he’s here, does that mean there’s an Akuma?” Rose smashed her hands against her cheeks. “Is it after one of us?”

Chat shook his head. “No Akuma tonight. Everyone is safe.”

“If there’s no Akuma, then why are you here?” Alix narrowed her eyes. “Are you two dating or something?”

“No!” Marinette raised her hands in front of her. “It’s nothing like that. He just visits sometimes.”

“Yup!” Chat chimed in, “Every Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday night!”

“Not helping!” Marinette hissed at the boy through gritted teeth.

He sunk further behind the ledge. “Sorry.”

“You have scheduled visits!” Alya chuckled and placed a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “Girl, I expect details.”

Chat cleared his throat. “Should I just leave the snacks and go?”

“Aha!” Alix exclaimed, pointing towards the hatch. “He brought snacks. They’re totally dating.”

“We’re not dating!” Marinette stamped her foot on the ground. “We’re just friends. I swear!”

“I don’t know. My brother always brings his girlfriend food, and he’s always talking about how in love with her he is.”

“Chat is my friend.”

Alya crossed her arms. “And tell us, how did you manage to become friends with him?”

Marinette looked at Chat, and after finding the silent look of approval in his eyes, she swallowed and took a steadying breath. “One night I was really upset, so I decided to sit out on the balcony. I may have started crying, and that’s when Chat found me. He told me he was also feeling down, so we talked for a few hours. He checked up on me the next day, and that’s when we realized that we enjoyed hanging out with each other.”

“Did you invite him to hang out with us tonight?” Mylene asked, cocking her head to the side.

Marinette sighed. “No, I did not.”

“You know, I should just go.” Chat tossed a canvas bag overflowing with snacks onto Marinette’s bed. “I’ll see you on Sunday, Princess.”

The unspoken sadness behind his words sent a pang through Marinette’s heart. “No, stay. It’s fine. Besides, I think Alya would kill me if I told you to go home before she had the chance to grill you at some point tonight.”

“You know it.” Alya chuckled and shot a finger gun in Chat’s direction.

“Wait.” He peeked the rest of his head over the ledge. “Really? I can come in?”

“Yup, and we were just about to play Mario Kart.” Marinette watched as Chat hopped onto her bed and scrambled down the ladder. “Did you want to play with us?”

“Do I?” He vibrated with excitement as she handed him a controller. “Is this what normally happens at sleepovers?”

“Have you never been to one?”

“No. I’ve only ever seen them on television and in movies, but those people are always doing each other’s hair and playing Truth or Dare.”

Alix’s eyes lit up. “Ooo, yes! We should play Truth or Dare.”

“No!” Marinette switched on her computer and loaded the game. “We are not playing Truth or Dare.”

“Ugh, lame!”

“We are playing Mario Kart, and then we are watching a movie.”

“I don’t know, Marinette. Playing Truth or Dare with a superhero sounds kind of fun.” Alya shot her a grin.

Marinette glared at her. “Video Games. Movie. Bed. That’s it.”

“You know,” Chat interjected, “I’ve never played Truth or Dare either.”

“Of course you haven’t.”

“It could be fun.”

“But you know what would be even more fun?” Marinette leaned in and flicked Chat’s bell. “Kicking your butt at Mario Kart...again.”

He chuckled. “That’s some big talk coming from someone who’s about to get crushed.”

“So says the boy who loses every time he’s played against me.”

“Oh, it’s on, Princess.”

“Jeez, if you two lovebirds are done flirting, some of us are ready to actually start playing,” Alix huffed, flopping onto the floor.

“For the last time, we are not dating.” Marinette crossed her arms and looked at Chat. “Right?”

“Yeah, we’re not.” She could have sworn that she saw his eyes dim when he spoke his confirmation, but surely it was just a trick of the light.

“See!” She said triumphantly. “We’re just friends.”

“Could have fooled me!” Alix held her stomach and laughed. “I’m just kidding. Anyway, are we playing or not?”

“Yes.” Marinette pressed start on her controller. “We are.”

As the first race began, she settled herself next to Chat Noir, accidentally brushing her knee against his. Her heart sank when she felt his body stiffen under her touch. Usually, Chat had no problem getting close to her. More often than not, they found themselves wrapped around each other under piles of blankets.

She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d done something wrong. Maybe he was upset that she’d said no Truth or Dare. Maybe she was too harsh. Maybe she should have said yes. After all, it was his first sleepover, and playing Truth or Dare wouldn’t be out of the ordinary.

Despite the internal debate that raged through her mind throughout the gaming session, Marinette came first in almost every race. After her eleventh win, she leaned over and rested her head on Chat’s shoulder.

“Better luck next time, kitty.” She looked up only to see him quickly turn his head away.

He must really be upset with her.

Alix slammed her controller onto the ground. “Ugh, can we do something else now? I’m getting bored.”

Alya rolled her eyes. “Are you sure you’re not just getting tired of losing?”

“Actually, I also wouldn’t mind doing something else.” Rose set down her controller and smiled. “Marinette, didn’t you say that we were going to watch a movie tonight?”

“A movie would be cool,” Juleka mumbled under her breath.

Marinette looked at Chat Noir. “Well, I’ve been thinking about it, and I thought that maybe we could play Truth or Dare...as long as we’re careful, that is! We’d have to promise to not ask Chat anything that could reveal his identity.”

Alix threw a celebratory fist into the air. “Yes!”

“Are you sure, girl?” Alya furrowed her brows. “You seemed pretty against it before.”

She nodded. “I’m sure. Besides, I think our surprise guest really wants to play. What kind of hostess would I be if I denied him the full sleepover experience?”

He met her gaze. His mouth rounded into a small “o” as a dusting of pink peeked out from underneath his mask.

“Are you okay?” Marinette asked tentatively.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. I would love to play!”

The rest of the group excitedly agreed and reformed a circle in the middle of the floor. The first few rounds filled the room with laughter as Mylene did the worm and Alya showed off her best Nino impression.

Once the giggles died down after watching Alix's reaction to putting ice cubes down her shirt, Alya adjusted her glasses and smirked. “Alright, it’s your turn, Marinette. Truth or dare?”

The last thing Marinette needed was for someone to dare her to kiss Chat Noir. “Truth.”

Alix rubbed her hands together. “First truth of the night. Let’s make it a good one.”

A wave of regret washed over her. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes! Who do you have a crush on right now?”

“I guess I should have seen that one coming.”

A pang shot through Marinette’s chest. She lowered her head and swallowed the heartbreak that threatened to resurface.

It had only been three months since she’d made the choice to move on from Adrien, and the wound still felt fresh. She’d done her best to bury the feelings she had for him, but her heart always circled back to the selfless boy who shines brighter than the sun.

However, she learned that as long as she didn’t actively think about Adrien, the hole inside her heart wasn’t as noticeable. Chat’s visits had really helped take her mind off of everything, but now it looked like it was time to face her feelings head-on.

“Oh, I know!” Chat blurted out, “It’s Luka!”

“No, it’s not.” Juleka’s hands covered her mouth while she spoke. “Marinette turned him down when he asked her out.”

“Wait, really?” He turned to Marinette. “Isn’t he the boy you’re in love with?”

Alya shook her head. “No, they had a connection, but I think we all know who really captured her heart.”

“Who?”

“You mean you really don’t know? She never told you?”

Hot tears welled in the corners of Marinette’s eyes. “I’m trying to move on.”

“Do you still love him?” Rose asked quietly, "Because it's okay if you do. Feelings like that don't just disappear overnight." “Yeah, but it doesn’t matter now. He’s with someone else. I lost my chance.” The words tasted bitter on her lips.

“No, you didn’t.” Juleka shook her head. “Don’t tell anyone, but I saw Luka kissing Kagami last weekend.”

A collective gasp filled the room as Marinette’s head shot up. “Are you serious?”

“Mmhmm, he doesn’t know that I know, but she comes over a lot.”

Alya nudged Marinette’s arm. “I think you just got your second chance.”

“But he and Kagami were so close!” Marinette grabbed her pigtails. “I could have sworn that they were dating.”

“You know, I don’t remember him ever saying that they were dating.”

“I guess I just assumed. I thought I saw them kiss.”

“I don’t think they did. I know he didn’t tell Nino that he kissed her, and those two pretty much know everything about each other.”

Chat held up his hands. “I’m sorry, who are we talking about right now?”

“It’s a boy from our class. You might know him. He was in that fragrance ad that seems to be on every billboard in the city.” Alya pointed to the class picture hanging on Marinette’s wall. “His name is Adrien.”

“Hold on.” The intensity in his eyes startled Marinette. “You have a crush on Adrien Agreste?”

“Um, yeah?” She shrugged. “I thought he was dating Kagami, so I tried to make my feelings go away. It didn’t really work.”

“But why?” His voice had dropped to a whisper. “Why him?”

Marinette thought back to her encounter with Adrien in the rain–the day love became more than just a word in the dictionary. “I accused him of something when we first met, but instead of getting angry and brushing me off, he reached out to me and asked to be friends. Is he one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen in my entire life? Yes, without a doubt. But it was his kindness and selflessness that made me fall for him.”

“You really love him, don’t you?”

“With all my heart.”

“Is that why you were crying that night on the balcony?”

“Yes, but you made me feel a lot better. Thank you for that.”

Chat pushed himself off the ground and began pacing around the room. “I...he made you cry! You’re so sweet and kind, and he hurt you. How are you not mad at him?”

She reached up and grabbed Chat’s hand as he passed in front of her. “It’s not his fault! I never had the courage to tell him, so he doesn’t know. He’s a wonderful person.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

“Chat…”

“He broke your heart, Marinette.”

She shook her head. “No, if we’re being honest, I kind of broke my own heart. I never told him how I felt.”

He took a deep breath. “You should tell him.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“What if I’m not the one for him? He deserves to be happy!”

“I have a hunch that things will work out pretty well if you tell him.”

“Look, it’s not that I haven’t tried before.” Marinette buried her face in her hands. “But all of those attempts ended in disaster. How would this time be any different?”

“Easy.” Alix pointed to the cell phone on Marinette’s desk. “I dare you to text him.”

Marinette crossed her arms. “Nice try, but it’s not my turn right now. It’s Chat’s.”

“Fine. Truth or dare, Chat Noir?”

He plopped down on the ground. “Dare.”

“Excellent.” Alix grabbed the phone and handed it to Chat. “I dare you to help Marinette send a text to Adrien.”

“No!” Marinette snatched her phone out of his hands and held it against her chest. “Why?”

“Because it’ll be hilarious.”

"But it's my phone!"

"And it's his dare."

Marinette grabbed Alya’s arm. “Help.”

“No can do, girl.” She shook her head. “Alix is right. He got dared.”

With a sigh, Marinette reluctantly handed her phone over to Chat. “Please don’t do anything too embarrassing.”

“Trust me, Princess. I’ll make sure you get that date.” He took the phone and got to work.

“You may have to spell it out for him. Adrien’s a great guy, but he’s a little dense in the love department sometimes.” Alix’s laugh rang through the room.

Chat glared at her. “Rude.”

“If you knew him, you’d agree.”

“Unfortunately, I have a feeling that you’re right. Rude, but right.”

Marinette didn’t know if she should scream or run away. “Please don’t tell him that I like him in a text. That should be something I tell him to his face.”

Chat ran his fingers through his hair. “I know. All I did was write out a message asking him to meet up with you in the park tomorrow.”

“Did you already send it?”

“Yup.”

“I...but...what if he’s not free?”

“Oh, he’s free.”

“How do you know?”

“Uhhhh.” Chat scratched the back of his head. “I read somewhere that his father is out of town for the next week. I guess I just assumed that Adrien had nothing on his schedule.”

Marinette did her best not to hyperventilate. “Okay, yeah...this is great. Goog...I mean doog...I mean...oh, no, I’m stuttering again! It’s been weeks since I’ve done that. I’m going to make a complete fool out of myself tomorrow!”

“No, you’re not.” Chat rested a hand on her shoulder.

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re amazing, Marinette, and he’d be crazy to not like you back.”

His smile melted away her fears and calmed the restless beating of her heart. It was amazing how safe he always made her feel, both in and out of the mask. Marinette knew she was lucky to have him as her partner and her friend.

“I know everyone didn’t get a turn to go, but I really don’t think we can top that round.” Alya walked over to Marinette’s computer. “How about we watch that movie now?”

“Works for me!” Marinette leaned against Chat. “Want to sit next to each other?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

While Marinette set up the movie, her guests made a cozy nest of blankets and pillows on the floor.

When she was finished, she took a seat next to Chat. She soon found herself wrapped in his arms with her face against his chest.

Although sitting like this had become a regular occurrence between them, tonight felt different. Instead of the loose hold she was accustomed to, Chat held her as if she’d slip away if he let go. To her surprise, she really enjoyed the change.

As the movie droned on, the steady beating of Chat’s heart relaxed every fiber of her being. Reflexively, she reached her arms around him, snuggled closer to his side, and reveled in his warmth.

All too soon, Marinette gave into the heaviness of her eyelids. Still vaguely aware of the world around her, the whispers of an oncoming dream beckoned her further into the depths of her subconscious.

She felt a gentle pressure against the crown of her head before a hazy voice etched its words onto her heart. “You make me happy every single day. You always have, and now it’s my turn to make you happy. You’re the perfect girl for me.”

And for the first time in months, Marinette was at peace.

“I can’t wait for tomorrow, Princess.”

That night, she had the sweetest of dreams, and the next morning, she woke up with Adrien’s response in her notifications.

#miraculous ladybug #my fic #marichat #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #one shot #ml pandemic relief zine #I just want them to be happy #ml fanfiction

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outerbankspreferences · 4 years ago

Text

50 wordless ways to say I love you.

#3. Traveling long distance just to see them.

Word count: 2040

Warnings: mentions of sex.

A/N: So I know nothing about filming, and I’m sorry it took me so long to update, but I’ve been sick. Hope you like it <3 :)

MASTERLIST

SERIES MASTERLIST

It had been a great week. You had gotten all your assignments done and handed in on time for once. You had time to deep clean your apartment and so much needed laundry. Why were you doing all this, because your boyfriend Drew had the weekend off from filming and he was going to make the four- and half-hour drive from Charleston to the Chapel Hill campus to be with you. You guys had been dating for little over a year, but you weren’t ready to move in with him just yet. He was your first serious boyfriend and you wanted to take things slow. You were also 4 years younger than Drew and felt it a little intimidating moving in with him just yet. Of course, he was supportive of that. You laugh to yourself thinking about how nervous you were when you two first started seeing each other. You had gone to high school with Maddy Cline, and when she went to university out west you kept in touch. You were the first person she told about wanting to be an actor, and you supported her dream 100%. She was the one who introduced you and Drew. She always joked that she was your guy’s cupid.

As you were hopping out the shower, wrapping your hair in a towel you heard your phone ringing. Rushing to kitchen to get you saw a picture of Drew show up, he was trying to facetime you. “Hey love, what’s up?” You ask him. It was unusual for him to be calling you this late. You take a good look at his face. There were bags under his eyes, and he had some stubble where he hadn’t shaved. You wonder if that was for his character. “I’m just getting back from supper with the cast. I miss you.” He spoke into the phone. Austin must have been sleeping because Drew spoke quietly. “Is everything okay love? You seem off.” He looked away from the screen, even when you weren’t physically with him you could still tell when something was up. You did this with everyone, not just him, but Drew thought it was your superpower. “Just a rough week with filming, and honestly I don’t feel very good, I think I’m just tired, but I don’t know.” He sat the phone, so it was propped up, rubbing his face with his hands. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that Drew, just wait a couple of days and you can come down here for a little break. I promise nothing but movies and snuggles.” You told him with hope in your voice. His face falls when he sees how excited you are. He was dreading making this call all day. “Yeah about that,” he trailed off. You sigh, “you can’t make it, can you?” He looked at you and instantly felt worse. “No, I thought we were going to have the weekend off, but I guess we’re behind schedule. Which I find crazy because we’ve been working our asses off all week.” He laughed trying to brighten the mood. “Maybe next weekend love, I’ll try and make it down. I’m sorry I know you were looking forward to it.” You put on a fake smile for him. He was already feeling shitty, and you weren’t going to add to his problems. “That’s okay, I have to work next weekend, but maybe I can switch my shifts around.” You send him a reassuring smile. “Go get some sleep babe, what time do you work in the morning?” “We have to be on set by 9:30.” “Okay, well I have class tomorrow, so I’ll talk you then. I love you, get some sleep.” You told him. Drew was half falling asleep talking to you. “Yeah your right love, have a good day, I love you more.” With that you hung up the phone. To say that you were disappointed was an understatement. You had been looking forward to seeing Drew all week, but you also felt bad because he was sick. Drew always took such good care of you when you weren’t feeling 100%. You decided he needed you there with him. You find your group chat with the girls and send them off a message.

Y/N: Hey guys, I heard you’ve been having a long week filming, but I need to ask a tiny favor of you.

MB: Ugh, you have no idea, I’m so tired I think I’ve been sleepwalking the whole day.

MC: I agree, this has been a week from hell, Chase got home and went straight to bed. What do you need Y/N?

Y/N: Well as you guys know, Drew was going to come down this weekend but now he can’t. So I was thinking of catching the bus down Friday and surprising him. But I need to know his schedule.

MC: YOU GUYS ARE TOO MUCH! Of course, we can help you with that. He’s filming with me a lot this weekend, so maybe be down for Friday night, our last call time is 5, and hopefully it won’t take more than an hour or so.

MB: I will be so happy not to listen to him go on about how much he misses you. He was so sad when he found out we would be filming through the weekend.

Y/N: Okay perfect, I’ll get Austin to pick me up from the bus station and I’ll wait at their place for him to get home. You guys are the best!

MC: Maybe we can all go get supper Saturday night, at the new bar we found. Everyone misses you.

MB: OMG I forgot about that place, yeah, we should go, Y/N you love it, they have half priced shots on Saturdays.

Y/N: Yeah okay, I’ll see what Drew wants to do and I’ll get back to you.

You were so excited. You went online and bought a bus ticket for Friday after you last class. It was a 5-hour drive because you would have to switch buses, but for Drew it was worth it. You packed your bag and planned with Austin for him to pick you up around 5:30. He promised to keep it a secret and was happy Drew wouldn’t be moping around the apartment.

When you get ready for your class that morning you just put on a cardigan, some leggings and put your hair in a ponytail. Austin had texted you saying that everyone was excited to see you and Drew was oblivious to what was being planned. Drew had also texted you that day, telling you to have a good day and he would try and call you that night. You could hardly sit through your class always checking the time. Once your class was over, you walked home and grabbed you stuff to catch the bus. Once you got on and settled you put your headphones in and slept the whole way. As promised Austin was at the bus station waiting for you. “Hey Y/N” he greeted engulfing you in a hug. You laugh “Hi Austin, thanks for picking me up, is Drew still filming?” “Uh yeah he is! Maddie said that they were going to be done around 6. You guys should have the place to yourselves, I’m going to stay at Rudy’s tonight.” You felt bad, you didn’t want to kick him out of his own home. “Austin you didn’t have to do that! I didn’t want to put anyone out. I was just worried about him. Is he still sick?” He laughed at you. “No I’m good, I don’t need to hear you and Drew go at it tonight, and I think he was a bit better today. If you ask me, I think everything is getting to him. He misses you; he misses his family; he’s working like none stop right now. I think he just needs some sleep.” You nodded along with everything Austin said. If there was one person who knew Drew better, then you it was him. They’d been roommates since filming season one after you and Drew decided to wait to move in together. You had become surprisingly good friends with Austin, and he would always third wheel you guys. “Wait, he’s not sleeping?” It caught you off guard, Drew never had trouble sleeping. A trait of his you were always jealous of. “Yeah well he never sleeps great without you anyways or at least that’s what he tells me.” You never knew that. You would spend a week at time with Drew, you guys would flip between each other places always spending the night together. You had to admit, you did sleep much better wrapped up in his arms.

Austin dropped you off at the apartment. “Are sure your okay sleeping at Rudy’s tonight Austin. I’m sure if Drew’s tired nothing’s going to happen.” He was putting your bag down, grabbing a drink out of the fridge. “Yeah, I’m sure, him and Elaine finally got together so he’s been sleeping at her place. I’m just going to watch the game or something.” You smiled, those two had been pining over each other for months. You had seen some pictures on Instagram and was happy they finally made it official.

Austin left you at the apartment waiting for Drew to get back. You put your stuff in his room and decided to make something to eat. If Drew were sick you wanted to make something that would make him feel better. Looking through his pantry you found some cans of soup and decided that would be perfect. He should be home anytime so it would be ready for him when he got there. You put on your Spotify playlist and started cooking. You were so focused on what you were doing that you never heard Drew unlock the door. He had to look twice when he saw you facing away from him making food slightly dancing in spot while you cooked. He was glad it wasn’t Austin cooking for once. “Y/N, what are you doing here? I missed you so much.” He came up hugging you from behind. You jumped a little. “Christ Drew, for being so big you’re awfully quite.” He laughed kissing you. You finally get a good look at him for the first time in a couple of weeks. He looked terrible the bags under his eye were worse, he was pale, and when you put your hand to his forehead, he had a fever. “Drew Starkey, you are running a fever, why didn’t you tell me it was this bad. I’m making you some soup go lay down on the couch until its done.” You scold him. He knew better then to let things get this bad.

Once the soup was warmed up you put it into some bowls and brought it over to him on the couch. He had turned on Netflix and was watching a crime documentary. “Babe you didn’t have to do all this, I’m fine, really. Just a bit of a cold nothing I can’t handle on my own.” “Clearly, I can tell you’re getting much better. Just eat this and we can cuddle after words.” You reply to him with sarcasm. Drew didn’t know how he got so lucky. For the rest of supper, you guys made small conversation. He asked about the bus ride and how school was going, and you asked about filming. Once the two of you were done eating you put the dishes in the sink, they could wait to be washed in the morning. You came back and laid down on the couch opting to the big spoon. Grabbing a blanket and wrapping Drew up to keep him warm. “Where’s Austin?” he asked. He noticed that his roommate wasn’t home, “oh he’s sleeping at Rudy’s tonight. He didn’t want to listen to us having sex.” Drew laughed and his breath tickled your chest making you giggle. “I’m too tired for sex tonight maybe tomorrow.” You looked down at him he was staring at the television half asleep. “Get some rest love you need it.” And with that Drew slept better than he had weeks.

#drew starkey #drew outerbanks #drew starkey blurb #drew imagine #drew starkey x you #drew-starkey-imagine #drew starkey x reader #outer banks

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keelywolfe · 4 years ago

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FIC: Just Swimmingly ch.6 (BAON)

Summary: Kidnapping Stretch doesn't seem like a good choice for life expectancy, really, but his kidnappers are full of bad choices.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Warning: I want to add a warning here for homophobic language and homophobia. We're switching to the POV of an asshole, so be aware and stay safe!

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Read it on AO3

Read it here!

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Chet was having a bad night.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go down. None of this was even his idea, all he’d wanted was a chance to make a little money. He didn’t even hate the dust catchers, not like his buddy Steve did. Sure, he thought the fuckers should go back under the mountain and fuck the libs for keeping the government from doing what they should’ve in the first place. If they’d sent in the military when the freaks first showed up, none of this would’ve happened. Stuff ‘em all back under the mountain and leave American jobs for Americans, yeah, that Chet could get behind. He didn’t want ‘em dead, though. Only back where they belonged.

But Steve, man, he was always bitching about ‘em. How they were at all the bars and stores these days, working at the gas station when he bought his cigarettes. Couldn’t take two steps anymore without bumping into a freak. His boss down at the shop even started hiring some of them and Steve spent a whole night with a bug up his ass on that one, the rest of them could barely hear the game.

And yeah, he knew Steve was getting deep into one of them anti-monster groups online. Chet didn’t care, none of his business, and if Steve managed to get arrested one of these days, welp, Chet wasn’t planning on sharing the bunk bed. He’d send a fair thee well letter and keep his ass at the bar, and if Dwayne and Vic were smart, they’d join him.

So, Chet had been just as surprised as the rest of them when Steve introduced them to Jerry. Creepy ass looking motherfucker, even for a monster. Should’ve been his cue right there to get out of dodge, he should've noped the hell out when that Jerry asshole told them he knew an easy way for them to make some money. He should have thanked him and gone for another beer instead, maybe headed down to the sports bar down the street and left all of this shit to the movies.

But Steve was sure it would work and the more he went on about it, the better it sounded. Everyone knew the cops didn’t like monsters, they wouldn’t be in any rush to get involved. The Embassy would pay them off, they’d let the skeleton guy go, and done. And instead of busting his ass every day for his shithead boss, they’d be down in Rio on the beach for the rest of their lives. All they had to do was shake ‘em up, make the Monsters see they weren’t welcome here. No one had to get hurt.

In fact, Scary Jerry had been pretty clear that hurting bone boy was a fast way to lose out on the cash. Turned out that skeletons were fragile little snowflakes and they’d break if anyone got too rough. If they wanted a payday, they’d have to snatch him without a bruise on his pussy little bones and Jerry helped them out with that, too. Drop a couple of tabs in his drink and he’d walk out with them docile as a lamb.

Jerry told them the skeleton was a little slut who fagged around for anyone who’d pay for it. All he was good for was Twitter and blowjobs, and so long as they used the drugs Jerry gave them, no problems.

He’d made a joke about putting his big mouth to good use if they wanted so long as they didn’t rough him up, but Chet didn’t go for that shit. Not from any freak.

Then Jerry stopped showing up to their meetings. That didn’t matter, Steve told them, they already had everything they needed, and Chet believed him like the stupid fucker his dad always said he was. They spent a couple months planning, figuring out skeleton boy’s schedule and when he started the bar routine, they saw their chance.

Only, Chet didn’t like what he was hearing from Steve anymore. Everything went down as planned at the bar, at first, but now there were complications.

To begin with, it was supposed to be the skeleton only. He was the cash cow and now they’d dragged in that other guy. Little faggot was probably bending over for the monster, doing whatever sick shit they did. He deserved whatever asswhipping anyone wanted to hand him, but Steve was taking it too far in Chet’s uneasy opinion.

After they’d sent the ransom video to the embassy, he’d start off on how they seen their faces, those two. Like everyone hadn’t at the bar? That’s why they were supposed to leave the country when they got the cash. The way Steve was talking, it didn’t sound like he wanted to scare the little shits tied up in the other room back underground or even give that Human a good reminder as to why he should hang out with his own faggy kind and give the dust catchers a pass.

Steve sounded a lot like maybe he was thinking of using the gun that was tucked into the waistband of his pants and if the others were as uneasy about that as Chet was, they didn’t say. None of them said much of anything, only drank their congratulatory beers let Steve go on about how there shouldn’t be witnesses, can’t have no witnesses.

That wasn’t at all the plan, the plan was to get the money and let them go, but Chet kept his trap shut, anyway. It was too late now, he was in the thick of it and he couldn’t run without the cash. If he opened his big mouth, he might become a witness instead and that was definitely not a part of the plan.

They’d gone through all the beers and chips when Steve suddenly whirled around, his gun suddenly in his hands. Chet kept a wary eye on it.

“We should check on them,” Steve said abruptly. “Check on them, see what they have to say. Make them tell us how much they saw.”

What could those two say that would sway Steve’s pendulum back into letting them go, Chet wondered. Not much, he didn’t think. They’d swear up and down that they didn’t know what they looked like whether it was true or not and the chances of them not telling anyone whatever they did know was nil. That was what leaving town was for, there was a car waiting, an airport three states away with tickets ready.

But Chet was knee-deep in the shit, had been since the moment that Jerry fuck sat at their table, and all he could do now was keep wading and hope he reached shore.

He followed Steve down the hallway silently, hanging back with Dwayne and Vic as Steve led the way. He flung open the door, gun in hand, and instead of terrified screams there was a fucking explosion. Some kind of bomb and at first Chet thought they were all dead. He’d heard what Monsters could do, his gramma used to tell him tales, horrifying fairy stories of humans who’d died in the war all those years ago, their still-beating hearts ripped free of their mangled bodies.

But once the smoke cleared, there was no blood or torn off limbs, only a smoldering piece of plastic on the floor and two empty chairs with the ropes still around them. They were gone, Chet realized dumbly. Gone and they’d set a little trap before they went, gone, and with it their chance at the money.

Yeah, okay, fuck this.

“Let’s get out of here,” Chet hissed, already backing up towards the door.

“And go where without the money?” Steve demanded. His short hair was sweaty and sticking up in clumps and his face was flushed a dark red, broken blood vessels standing out as bright snaps in his eyes. No one answered. “We stick to the plan, they couldn’t have gotten far. Now start looking!”

Start looking. Chet nodded and fumbled for his own gun, the heavy weight of it unfamiliar despite all the times he went to the firing range. Look around the dusty old warehouse that belonged to the company Dwayne worked for, that he’d sworn up and down was mostly empty and didn’t even have a security guard, perfect for their plan.

Not so perfect if those two managed to wiggle their way out, but he was gonna look, see if maybe they were hiding in a closet somewhere. Chet didn’t know what he was gonna do if he found them, but he was more afraid of what would happen if Steve found them first. Better to start looking first and maybe he could come up with something. Wasn’t like he had any other ideas.

The first couple rooms were empty of anything but dusty cartons and rat crap. Chet kept moving, the jumble of them moving down the hallway as they went from room to room. Found nothing, reporting the same from everyone, and they rounded the corner, still looking. They’d made almost a full circle, ready to go downstairs and try the same maneuver again when there was a loud popping sound and Chet’s first thought was, fuck, Steve found them first, fuck, fuck!

But it wasn’t Steve, it was Vic. Chet watched in disbelief as Vic stumbled out of the room he’d been checking clutching at his face, the exposed skin red and raw. Yellow, stinking smoke followed him out, pouring over them all like a cloud of rotting foulness. Tears pour from Chet’s eyes and he covered his mouth with his sleeve, coughing, trying to squint through stinging smoke even as his panicked mind blubbered that it was acid, the skeleton could spit acid or some shit, they were dead, they were all dead.

Vic fell to the ground, rolling on the filthy linoleum and screaming that his face was burning and maybe Dwayne had the same idea Chet did about the acid. He was closest to the outer door and he stumbled back into it, the doors swinging open as he took off through them. Before Chet could follow, more screams came, wavering between loud and muffled as the doors flapped open and closed.

He got Dwayne, too, Chet thought giddily, fucking monster was gonna kill them all and maybe that was Jerry’s plan from the start.

Chet stood frozen in the hallway, not knowing which way to flee. Didn’t matter, the monster would see him, he was sure of it, see him and get him, tear him open like in the movies, like in gramma’s bedtime stories. Vic was still keening, clutching at the raw sore of his face, and that was when Steve started shooting.

The room was still cloudy with foul yellow smoke and Steve was holding his gun out and firing wildly in a blind spray of bullets. One landed way too close to Chet, embedded into the wall right next to him and fuck this. He fell to the floor and started to crawl.

The air was clearer down here and he could see a little, his watering gaze blurry but he could see enough. Too much, in fact. He pressed down into the floor and watched as Steve was suddenly lifted off his feet and slammed into the ceiling, the wall, the floor.

Up and down and left and right, over and over until he was hanging in the air like a rag doll, slumping limply down, and that was when Chet saw a monster.

No movie creation, no scrawny faggot flailing out on the dance floor like he’d seen earlier. This Monster walked right out of his sweaty nightmares through the drywall dust and smoke, his teeth bared in a skeletal grimace, one eye socket filled with endless blackness that threatened to swallow Chet down and the other a flickering hellfire, a swirling deadly comet crashing through the night sky towards him. Strolling in like Death himself and Chet couldn’t look away, afraid It would fall on him and rip his throat out with those teeth.

It didn’t head for Chet, practically ignored him as It went to stand in front of Steve’s battered, bleeding form.

Steve wasn’t out of the count yet. He tried to raise his gun, but it trembled so hard in his grip he could barely hold it. The Monster didn’t even move, that hellfire gaze going brighter and Steve’s gun was ripped away, clattering down the hallway. The Monster leaned down, one long-fingered hand extending, more fire glowing at the tips of those spindly fingers and Chet only lay there, waiting to watch Steve die and wondering if It would turn on him next.

The voice was unexpected, hoarse and worried, and terribly human. “Stretch, don’t. Enough, okay? Don’t.”

Don’t stretch what? Chet thought, distant and dreamy.

There. The human, the little fag from the bar was standing behind the creature and he was braver than he looked. He set a hand on Its narrow back, said something that Chet couldn’t hear through the soaring ringing in his ears…no, wait, was that the fire alarm?

The demon stopped and closed Its eye sockets, finally hiding that hellfire glow. When he opened them again, his gaze was a pale, bland light, but when he spoke and Chet thought he could feel the vibrations down in his own bones, rattling through him. "enough. yeah, okay.” He crouched down in front of Steve, elbows braced on his skinny thighs and the coldness in his voice rang down the hallway. “here's a judgement for you, pal. enjoy prison."

Chet didn’t wait for the monster to pronounce a judgement on him. He did the only thing he could. He scrambled to his feet and ran. Past Vic, still whimpering on the floor, out through the swinging doors, coughing as he ran into a fresh cloud of smoke and here was Dwayne, stuck fast to the stair railing by some kind of sticky foam that looked like insulation.

He kept running, out into the cool night air, gasping in a clean lungful. He took another stumbling step and stopped. His path to the van was cut off, not that it mattered since he didn’t have the keys. They were upstairs with Steve and there was no fucking way Chet was going back up there, not for any amount of cash; he’d barely escaped with his mortal soul the first time.

But what he saw outside froze his blood. Another skeleton, no, more than that. Monsters, so many Monsters, tall and small, incongruous in their dark suits and none of them looked like a savior but Chet fell to his knees in front of them all anyway, croaking out, "Help me.”

The skeleton grinned and Chet couldn’t spare anymore horror, not even when he saw those jaggedly sharp teeth. “yeah, the honey bun is here, a’right.”

Chet didn’t have a chance to ask what the fuck donuts had to do with anything. Cool metal bracelets slid around his wrists, strong hands hauling him to his feet and towards one of the cars and Chet went willingly, gratefully.

He slumped in the back of the car, resting his face against the cool window glass and did not watch what was going on outside. Didn’t matter, not really, he’d made it out alive and that was it. It was enough.

Eventually, though, he opened his eyes and caught side of the others being led out. Vic, his face visibly raw and red in the spotlights shining everywhere. Dwayne was being rolled out, lying sideways on a stretcher, still wrapped up in foam, and behind the paramedics was Steve with two Monsters on either side of him, caging him in. Dried blood was crusting his nose, but he was on his feet and being led to a car of his own.

In his chest, humor suddenly took hold, bubbling its way out until Chet was giggling alone in the empty car, shrill and unsteady.

Looked like maybe he and Steve would end up sharing bunks after all.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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relaxedreptile · 4 years ago

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Mend

Pairing: Hyunjin X Reader

Swearing. Jealousy. Mentions of a breakup.

A/N: This idea sort of just... came to me a few days ago and I busted this out. It’s a bit heavier and more angsty than I wanted, but I hope you all like it!

I’m still working on a very long piece for Hyunjin and a few more requests in my asks, please look forward to what’s coming!

Also, what do you all think of GO LIVE? Personally, I’ve had it on repeat since it came out!

Stay cool.

“Hey! I know we planned on hanging out tonight but Changbin and I are kind of on a roll here with this song of ours and the deadline is only in a couple days so we’re really desperate to keep this going and-“

“And you won’t be coming home to watch a horror movie with me?”

“Or a cheesy rom-com, we never really decided.”

You and Chan were best friends. After showing up to your first day at your shared university, Chan was introduced to you as your tour guide during freshman orientation. While everyone else in your group hung back and anxiously glanced around at the foreign environment, you and Chan instantly hit it off and continued a conversation at the front of the crowd for the entire tour.

He told you about growing up in Australia and his love for music (you tried to hide your giggle when he mentioned him and his friends’ Soundcloud endeavors) whereas you talked about all the classes you were taking and your dream career.

Meeting Chan took a lot of pressure off of your shoulders when it came to starting at a new school and embarking on a new stage of your life. Not only did he restore your faith in nice people still existing, but he gave you advice on teachers, told you the best places to hit up for snacks during a late night study session, and you got to meet all of his friends.

You got to meet Hyunjin.

Hyunjin was your age, two years younger than Chan, and one of Chan’s honorary brothers. They met through Minho, another boy in the group, who was partnering with Hyunjin on choreography and went to Chan for music to use.

Honestly, you’d be surprised if anyone met your eight stray boys and didn’t want to get close to them; their charm is hard to resist.

And, unfortunately for you, so is Hyunjin’s.

You occasionally saw each other when the nine of you hung out as a group, greeting each other upon arrivals and exits, waving when you saw each other on campus. Soon, that grew into you guys gravitating towards each other at hangouts (sitting next to each other and sharing a bowl of popcorn on movie night, stepping out for fresh air together during one of Jisung’s big parties) and making plans on your own without the rest of the boys. It was no surprise to the rest of the group when Seungmin called you while you were on your first official date with Hyunjin and had to explain what you were doing (and why you would have to hear about how annoying Jisung was being at another time).

You and Hyunjin’s relationship, despite your fears, didn’t disrupt the dynamic of your friend group. Splitting your guys’ time between dates and takeout dinners with the boys was easy and your lives almost barely changed once you became official.

Which was the problem.

While behind closed doors you and Hyunjin were as “lovey-dovey” as they come (“get a room, you two!”), the rest of your college campus just saw you two as the best friends you had been for the months between meeting and getting together.

It left a sour taste in your mouth every time someone asked if you could hook them up with Hyunjin and it was like a punch to Hyunjin’s throat every time someone made a suggestive comment about how you looked that day in front of him.

It was what eventually broke you guys up, all the jealousy and occasional bickering over people who were “just friends”. You two were the only people on each other’s radar through and through, but insecurity is a powerful thing.

It was a rough breakup. You didn’t leave your room for a full 29 hours (Jeongin timed it) and finally walked out with a tear-streaked face and hoodie (that may or may not have been Hyunjin’s).

Hyunjin poured everything he was feeling into his dancing and his performance at your university’s end-of-year showcase almost had you tearing up all over again; everyone was moved by Hyunjin’s choreography, but you were the only person in the audience who knew the whole story and therefore, felt it the most.

The slight distance between you and all the boys that summer after your freshman year had ended had worked to ease some of the lingering tension between you and your ex-boyfriend. The two of you were able to grow back into a friendship once the new fall semester reunited the nine of you but things could never really go back to the way they used to be, regardless of the presence or absence of romance.

That didn’t stop either of you from staying close to the other boys and you and Chan were still as inseparable as ever. He was hard at work right now, trying to wrap up his and Changbin’s senior project (Jisung is still pissed that he isn’t allowed to help), but you two had decided to hangout tonight to make up for Chan’s busy schedule.

“Are you sure you won’t be back anytime soon? I can wait,” your tone was pleading.

You could hear Chan talking, but it was too muffled to make out what he was saying; you figured he was speaking to Changbin.

“Tomorrow’s the only day of the week that Changbin doesn’t have an 8-am, so he wants to stay here no matter what but all of our work is on my laptop and I kind of need that tomorrow for my 8-am but he probably won’t be awake early enough to-”

“You owe me, Christopher.” You only ever used his English name to tease him. This way, he would know you weren’t actually mad, even if your disappointment was genuine.

You hung up while Chan was mid-apology, shooting him a quick test saying you “got it” with a couple of hearts.

Your phone was left discarded on Chan’s kitchen counter as you munched on a piece of pizza; you had made it to Chan’s apartment about fifteen minutes before he called and you weren’t really in a rush to go back to your small stuffy dorm room and loud roommate.

Chan lived in an apartment off-campus with Changbin and Jisung which acted as an unofficial go-to for your friend group; one of you was usually sleeping on the couch, taking advantage of the insanely fast WiFi, or clearing out their fridge regardless of the actual owners were home.

This was the reason why you didn’t look up from your sad dinner when you heard the front door open, assuming it was just a pouty Jisung or hungry Felix.

However, the voice that greeted you was neither as animated as Jisung’s nor deep as Felix’s.

“Y/N?”

The final piece of the crust almost got stuck in your throat.

You hummed a response, still chewing and starting to formulate an escape plan.

“Is Changbin here? He left his notebook at my place and I think there are some lyrics in it, he told me to drop by to give it to him.”

You gaped at Hyunjin, surprised at how similar your situations were. Your explanation of what Chan had said was quick, hoping it would get Hyunjin out of the apartment as soon as possible.

It’s not that you didn’t want to be around Hyunjin, it’s just that you two hadn’t hung out alone since your breakup and the two of you hanging out together in this apartment at this counter was a little too familiar.

“Do you mind if I wait with you, then? I’ve barely eaten all day and this pizza smells a little too good to ignore.”

He was already seated in the stool next to yours before you could get a word out. You nodded anyway, though, and pushed the stack of paper-thin napkins the pizza place had given you between the two of you.

“Have Chan or Changbin showed you the song so far?” Hyunjin said with a mouthful of cheese and tomato sauce.

Even while eating he looked perfect; his lips glistened with the oil from the pizza slice in his hands and anyone could admire his toned forearms thanks to the way he pushed up his sleeves to avoid staining.

“No, but I haven’t even bothered asking,” you told him, “I figured they were keeping everything top-secret until the showcase.”

“I tried bringing them some food the other day before class and Changbin basically shoved me back out the door,” Hyunjin giggled. “The same thing happened to Jeongin, apparently.”

“If they could resist Yang Jeongin what chance do I have?” You joked.

Except, Hyunjin didn’t laugh, he was completely silent; even his chewing had stopped. You couldn’t think much of it, the boy next to you snapped out of it quickly.

“I keep forgetting that they won’t be here next year.”

They, Chan and Changbin and Minho, the three seniors in your friend group.

“I’ve been avoiding thinking about it,” you admitted. “I’m mostly worried for Jisung, honestly, he’s losing his best friend and his group-mates all in one year.”

This was partly true. Jisung’s best friend, Minho, was indeed graduating along with 2/3 of 3RACHA, but you weren’t worried about Jisung having to adjust to the change. It was actually Hyunjin you worried for the most; he was the most sensitive person in your friend group and tended to be apprehensive towards change. Not seeing three of your favorite boys around campus was going to be hard for all remaining six of you, but Hyunjin was terrified of being left behind or replaced.

“But… but they’ll still be living here!” You quickly added, gesturing to the apartment the two of you were in. “They’ll still be here with us, really.”

“I’m going to have to find a new partner,” Hyunjin tried masking his sadness with a weak smile.

Your instincts kicked in, making you place a gentle hand on Hyunjin’s arm. You stroked your thumb back and forth along his sweatshirt, hoping he could feel the comforting gesture underneath all the fabric.

“Didn’t Felix tell you? He’s planning on switching his major after this year! He wants to go into dance, too.”

Hyunjin turned his body to face yours, your hand losing its grip and falling back down to your side.

“He’s changing his focus at the end of sophomore year?”

You shrugged. “It was his last chance to do it. You know how much he hated finance.”

Hyunjin nodded. “He only kept up with that for as long as he did for his parents; I’m glad he finally has the chance to do what he’s always wanted to.”

You were in agreement there; Felix had finally prioritized his own happiness.

“And this way you don’t have to worry about a new partner!” You tried sounding hopeful, knowing that while Felix would be a healthy addition to the dance department at your university, Hyunjin would take losing Minho hard; he was basically his mentor.

“And… and I’ll still be here. When-If you need me.”

The two of you locked eyes. Fear rose up your spine, chilling your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps.

With a flash of his pretty smile, Hyunjin instantly calmed your nerves.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

You cocked your head to the side, not sure what Hyunjin was getting at.

He turned away quickly, starting to fidget with the pretty rings on his pretty fingers.

“With Chan leaving and all.”

“Oh. I mean… I’ll obviously miss him like everyone else, but he won’t be too far away. As long as he gives me my movie nights I’ll manage.” You joked.

Hyunjin glanced back up at you, his eyebrows slightly scrunched in thought.

“Was this a date?”

You visibly jumped back into your seat. “What?”

“For you and Chan.”

“Oh. Wait, what?”

The boy in front of you got up off his stool, walked a few steps away from you, crossed his arms and stopped.

“I thought you two were a thing now. You had always been so close and I thought… since we… after I… I figured you guys would’ve made it official by now.”

“Hyunjin… Chan and I are just friends.” What had gotten into him? “That’s all we’ve ever been.”

“Are you sure?” Hyunjin’s voice was getting louder, his fists getting tighter.

You opened your mouth to respond with a little attitude, but Hyunjin beat you to it.

“I know you weren’t planning on finishing this pizza all by yourself and people don’t usually go on movie dates,” he scowled while saying the words, “alone.”

“I never called it a date, you’re the one who started using that word.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to think? When you and I started spending time together without the other guys we were dating within weeks and you and Chan have always been basically inseparable-”

“Is that what this is actually about?”

“-and it doesn’t help that you always wear his sweatshirts around now or crash at his place all the time. You’re practically throwing it in my face-”

“There’s nothing to throw in your face, Hyunjin.”

“-that I’ve been replaced!”

Hyunjin regretted the word as soon as it left his pretty lips. He started blinking quickly and licking his lips, anything to distract him and keep him from running his mouth again.

“Replaced?” You repeated. “I… I haven’t… I’m not trying to replace you, Hyunjin.”

Silence.

“All eight of you guys have your own place in my life, they can shift and change regardless of what the other ones are doing. And, frankly, you’re making it sound like I’m just trying to check all of you off of a list, as if I’m here solely to get with you guys at one point or another.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Hyunjin said quickly. “It’s just… all I do is think about us and what we had whenever I see you. And right now, I see Chan in the same places that I used to be and it hurts. It really fucking hurts!”

Hyunjin’s eyes were wet, the dim kitchen light reflecting off the trails down his cheeks.

“I thought I would be able to deal with the breakup better if we kept our distance but when summer ended and we came back… all of a sudden, the spots next to you on the couch were always already taken, you were already partnered with someone else in class before I could even get halfway to your seat, I felt… I feel like you don’t need me anymore, that I’m a random leftover piece next to a puzzle that’s already finished.”

You forced yourself not to point out how these fears that both of you shared were what pushed your relationship to its breaking point. Now wasn’t the time.

“I thought that the distance was best for both of us,” you started. “But… I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss you, miss what we had. I miss you, Hyunjin, I miss us. We were friends before we started dating and I thought that that meant it was possible for us to revert back to that stage in our relationship but every joke you made or smile you gave me just kept my feelings for you right where they were.”

You got up slowly, inching towards the sniffling boy.

“Of course I still need you,” you whispered, “I want you in my life.”

Your arms wrapped around the neck of the boy you loved, pulling him close into your body as your shared tears left their mark on your clothes.

“There’s always a space for you when it comes to me, whether or not that’s a good thing. You don’t have to compete with anyone for my time or love.”

You both knew you weren’t just speaking about Chan or even the rest of your friend group but also the people around campus and in the city who had caused such an insecurity to grow within both of you.

“We have a lot to work on, don’t we? If this is going to work?”

You didn’t answer, you couldn’t, you just squeezed Hyunjin tighter to give yourself the courage you knew you would need in preparation for what would come with the future.

The future with Hyunjin by your side.

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #hyunjin smut #stray kids #rr:hwang hyunjin

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k-writer1998 · 5 years ago

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Black, White, Grey (2/3)

Having Bang Chan as your best friend is great cause he’s literally the best but not so much when you’ve had a crush on him for a majority of the friendship.

Angst

w.c: 2.2k

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Shoot! I’m going to be late,” I cursed under my breath.

It’s been a few months since I last saw Chan, they were promoting and I was filming a new drama but with our hectic lives it was nothing new. We usually just occasionally updated each other every now and then either by messaging or the rare phone call. What was new was the urgent message I got from Chan yesterday saying that we needed to talk ASAP. I had a few hours between shoots today so we decided to meet at a coffee shop between our two locations. By the time I got there, Chan was already sitting with two drinks on the table.

“Sorry I’m late, the shoot ran a little longer then it should’ve.”

“It’s fine,” he chuckled, “I got you your usual.”

“Thanks. So what’s up? What’s with the urgency?” I asked as I took a sip of my drink.

“Well you remember Eunhye?”

I really wish I couldn’t but it’s hard not to when he talks about her… a lot. From what I know they’ve gone on a handful of dates and she is really understanding with the idol stuff. Apparently since she's a university student on the verge of graduating, so she’s pretty busy herself, things have been going well, and he really likes her. The urgency of needing to meet him, him bringing her up, the nervous energy flowing off of him… I didn’t have a good feeling about it. I prepared my heart for the worst and turned on my actress switch as a smile pulled across my lips.

“Yeah what about her?”

“Well… I really like her…”

“What? I didn’t know,” I gasped sarcastically.

“Stop I’m being serious,” he chuckled softly.

“Then just spill it already, it’s just me. I’m not going to judge you.”

“It’s just you’re the first to know so it kinda feels weird saying it out loud… I want to ask her to be my girlfriend. I mean not now but after promotions in a few weeks.”

Even though on the outside my mouth dropped and my smile grew bigger as a gasp escaped my lips, inside… a heart wrenching scream clawed my chest. Yet another piece of my heart shattered to dust but now was not the time to dwell on myself. At least the next words that fell from my lips were honest, given from what little was left of my heart.

“Oh my god! Chan I’m happy for you. I mean I’ll be honest this will probably be like fighting an uphill battle but you know I’m always the pessimist in these situations. I am 100% happy for you though, you deserve it and your happiness is mine.”

“Thanks for your well wishes and warning,” he rolled his eyes with a laugh before adding, “You’re the best and remember I’ll always return the favor if you have someone you like.”

How does that work when that someone is you?

“Thanks Chan, believe me I know,” I laugh.

“There isn’t anyone right now right? I know I haven’t really got to check up much on you since I’ve been going on about Eunhye and been busy with promotions…”

“Don’t worry about it, you didn’t miss anything. There’s no one right now.”

“Good but when that happens I better be the first to know,” he joked before he added on a more serious note, “no secrets right?”

“No secrets,” I smiled. No secrets… except for this one.

I may have gone through this a few times already but like Seungmin said, it still hurts no matter how many times I go through it. We chatted a bit longer before we had to go for our next schedules but not before he planned something so that I could properly meet Eunhye… stupid best friend responsibilities. I know he hoped we got along and that was never the hard part when he got into a relationship. The hard part of it all was having to see her separate the grey areas in our friendship into black and white. When the day came, we met at the theaters to watch the movie Chan and I promised to see together. Our usual of sharing popcorn and a drink, making commentary during the movie, sitting close enough so that our shoulders touched… became a him and her thing with me watching the movie silently, an empty feeling on my sides, eating popcorn from a bucket far too big for myself because ordering a large was a force of habit. I still smiled, laughed, joined the conversation, and played the best friend role like I was supposed to. My mind was just in a haze through it all and although Chan noticed it, my lies blended with the truth. I told him I was tired, I just didn't specify that it was physically from work, emotionally from unrequited feelings and mentally from keeping up my farce.

The rest of those two weeks blurred together as the heartbreak set it deeper and deeper as each day passed. I was finally snapped out of my daze when I got messages from Seungmin in Minho in our "feelings" group chat when I was on break during filming. I’m guessing Chan took more time to clearly think about this before he told the boys. Throughout the day we exchanged messages but even though we were all busy, they demanded me to video call them once I was off even if it was at an ungodly hour. I love those two but together they were bossy and a force to be reckoned with. I agreed and didn’t get a message until I had just finished filming my last scene. They were back at the dorm and were reminding me to call. I rolled my eyes before updating them that I had just finished and would be home soon. By the time I had texted them I was home, my foot barely through the door, my phone rang with a face-time notification. I chastised them the moment their faces appeared on screen.

“You know there is this thing called patience right?”

“Well that is reserved for people who keep us updated,” Minho countered.

“Wasn’t my update to tell but okay,” I rolled my eyes but as I noticed the background behind them I dropped my voice, “are you guys in your room?! Don’t you guys share a room? Can you even be on call right now?”

“Well the person in question is sleeping and we aren’t that loud so it’s fine. We’re on the other side of the room.”

“So how are you?” Seungmin interrupted before I could rebut.

“At least someone cares,” I joke.

“Come on, be serious.”

“Okay sorry. You know I don't do "feelings"… Uhm… well… I’m better than the first day I heard the news but that can’t really say much.”

“Used work to fill the void? Have you at least been getting proper rest?”

“Yup. It helps that they are filming a bulk of my scenes right now so my mind stays occupied but sorry Seungmin sleep is not my friend right now.”

“I still can’t believe how dense Chan-hyung is. You’ve been friends for six years and you’ve had a crush on him for five, I’m sorry but how has he not figured it out or at least noticed something?”

As Minho got annoyed his voice got a bit louder and we all froze as we heard rustling coming from the other side of the room. No one moved for a good few minutes to ensure Chan was still sleeping. When we were sure, Seungmin nudged Minho with his shoulder.

“Hyung, keep it down.”

“My bad! It just sucks that one friend is hurting our other friend and he doesn’t even know,” Minho hissed.

“Awww thanks Minho,” I teased.

“Whatever,” Minho mumbled before adding, “I’m just surprised the feeling lasted this long even after everything.”

“Well you know your leader, it’s kinda hard to get over someone like that. Like have you seen him? His body-”

“Ahhhhh, I don’t want to hear it,” Seungmin whined.

“I mean you’re right but ewwww.”

“I’m kidding,” I chuckled softly, “But on a more serious note… I just… I don’t know why I can’t get over Chan. I mean when I figured out I liked him five years ago it was the thing that I’ve liked him for awhile already before I even realized it and no matter what happens or how many times my heart breaks… that feeling is still there. I mean I, without a doubt, can say that he is my first love. Any guy I find, no matter how much I love him… I don’t think I’ll love him as much as I love Chan… Oh jeez.”

Before I knew it there were tears streaming down my face as I was explaining. This was the first time I have vocalized just how much Chan meant to me and hearing it aloud just made everything so much worse. I gave a dry chuckle as I tried to furiously wipe away the tears but to no avail. The tears I’ve held back for so long took the chance to fall and I had no control anymore. I started to curse as the tears turned to sobs and the boys tried their best to soothe me through the screen. The rest of the night was filled with the boys comforting me and me finally letting it all out. After the call it felt lighter in my chest but that just gave pain more room to fill and I didn’t know which one was worse. I need to pull myself together or I’ll never be able to make it through dinner with the boys and Eunhye in a few days. It took a bit but the pain somehow subsided to a dull numbness where I could properly pretend to be myself.

The day of, I met the boys outside the barbecue restaurant and greeted them happily. Chan said that Eunhye was a bit behind so she’ll meet us inside. While he explained, he casted a nervous glance at me. I tiled my head, mouthing a “what?” in confusion, but he just shook his head and smiled before leading us in. Once we were seated, everyone began to chatter about the menu, arguing and discussing what they wanted to eat. I smiled at the organized chaos, a calming constant in my life. After a few more minutes passed Eunhye came in and greeted everyone. She came over and sat next to me, causing me to move closer to Seungmin and away from my place in front of Chan. Throb. No heart, not in front of Chan. I knew Minho and Seungmin would worriedly look at me but, among the many other strange things he’s been doing tonight, Chan too was anxiously giving me looks. When I finally caught him I raised an eyebrow in question but he quickly turned away, laughing at something Eunhye had said. When the food finally came I took my usual job of manning the grill and Eunhye helped. Out of habit I placed a majority of the meat onto the other members’ plates like I always have, save a few pieces for myself, and moved to Chan’s except Eunhye beat me to it. She giggled as he got flustered by her action… replaced yet again. Our eyes connected and for a second his eyes filled with panic and I just gave him a weird look before turning my attention back to the grill in front of me. Halfway through the meal my phone buzzed and I excused myself and stepped out of the restaurant, moving to a less crowded area to minimize the noise.

“Manager Kim? What's up?”

“Did you check your texts? There’s good news.”

“Huh? I’m at dinner right now, I haven’t had a chance to look at my phone. Give me a sec,” as I pulled up my texts I gave a delighted squeal as I put my phone back to my ear, “No way?! Seriously?!”

“Yup, once we finalize everything on our end, make sure you’re ready to go, got it?”

“Yeah of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

A satisfied sigh left my lips as I held my phone to my chest. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath to enjoy the chilly night air as it filled my lungs. There was a comfort in the cold isolation of outside compared to inside and I basked in it a bit longer. As I turned to head back to the door I saw Chan coming to me.

"Hey is everything alright? You've been out here for awhile."

"Oh yeah, my manager was just updating me on the changes in my schedule. Are you okay though? You've been kinda weird all night."

"Haha yeah, I'm fine. Let's go back in yeah?"

"... Okay."

I knew it was a lie. There was something bugging him but I won't pry. That's not how we were, it just naturally comes out and if he's holding back there’s a reason. I could never really badger him either when I’m now keeping two big secrets from him…

#stray kids #skz #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz scenarios #bang chan #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #bang chan angst #my writing

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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1191

survey by voicedance16

name yourself: Robyn

name (one of) your best friend(s): Angela; she’s for keeps.

name 3 things in your fridge/freezer: I don’t think I opened the fridge at all today, but if I had to guess...eggs, bread, and our pad thai leftovers from dinner earlier.

name a color you're wearing currently: Green.

name the last thing you ate: I treated myself and ordered spicy tuna salad tonight because I had a shit shift. It’s been a while since I felt a little burned out with my job, but it happened today and it wasn’t very pleasant.

name the last store you went to: I never go out these days...does online shopping count? I’m always browsing through Shopee, if anything lol.

name the song you're listening to: ON - BTS.

name the artist of that song: BTS.

name your favorite animal: Dogs or elephants.

name what pets you have, if any: Two dogs. Kimi, Cooper.

name the town/state you live in: No thanks. I live near Manila though, which is probably the only city most people know from the Philippines anyway so that should suffice.

name something commonly ordered at Starbucks: I think my usual is a pretty common order – caramel macchiato.

name the last person you talked to in person: Not sure. I think it may have been Nina? I was just jokingly asking her if her bias recognized her again on a VLive, since her comments have been read by her favorite group recently, and she tells me they even laugh at them :( Perks of liking a smaller, more underground group for sure; pigs would have to fall from the sky before anyone from BTS notices me lol.

name the last person you talked to on the phone: My mom. I didn’t hear her calling for dinner last night, so she ended up having to call me from downstairs while I was hanging out at the rooftop.

name the current day of the week: Tuesday.

name the current month: May.

name the current time: 10:22 PM.

name the last movie you watched: I have not watched an entire movie since i’m thinking of ending things back in September. I did watch a snippet from Portrait of a Lady on Fire a few weeks ago, though. That’s the closest thing I’ve got to watching any film recently.

name the last book you read: This one I’m even more uncertain about.

name a place you've been on vacation: South Korea.

name a place you'd like to go on vacation: Malta or Turkey.

name 3 things you can see from where you're sitting: It’s pretty dark so I technically can’t ‘see’ anything, but based on what I know I brought up to the rooftop tonight I have my phone, my salad, and my vape pen.

name your favorite musical: Miss Saigon, if anything. I’m not a big fan of musicals.

name an animal (any): Turtle was the first that came to mind.

name a fruit: Mangoes.

name a vegetable: Lettuce.

name a common breakfast food: Pancakes. They’d sound so good rn, too.

name a color: Grey.

name a type of flower: Dandelions.

name a type of tree: Uh...mango again? HAHA I’m not very good with trees.

name a city: New York.

name a state: Indiana.

name a country: India.

name a continent: Asia.

name a planet: Jupiter.

name a girl's name: Jessica.

name the last person to comment you on Facebook: Angela. She tagged me on this post that was promoting a local shop that makes customized face pillows and she told me we should order a Taehyung one for me and a Seokjin one for her, hahaha. The concept is definitely cute but it wasn’t my style, so I showed her another shop that also makes face pillows, but prettier.

name a clothing store/brand: Thom Browne.

name the last book you got at the library: If I remember correctly, it was History of the Filipino People which, coincidentally, my great-uncle wrote.

name a restaurant: Yabu but eugh, haven’t eaten there since the breakup. I should order from them soon to commemmorate moving on heheh.

name a grocery store: Can I just name a local one? SM.

name an iPhone app: YouTube.

name an actor: Eddie Redmayne.

name an actress: Emma Stone.

name a music group: BTS.

name your favorite/lucky number: It used to be 4, but I’m now going with 7.

name something you've accomplished: Continued from...last night, I think? I have no concept of time anymore. I managed to survive this week so far considering how deadly my schedule was.

name something you'd like to accomplish: Get a promotion once I’ve proven myself capable.

name someone who makes you laugh: Hans can make anything funny.

name something exciting coming up soon: Some of my online shopping orders arriving I’m guessing by later today, yayyyy.

name a song that makes you emotional: Oh man, there are a lot. O by Coldplay is probably the one that hits the worst, though; I still can’t listen to that song completely to this day. Recently, I also can’t really avoid being sad whenever I listen to Butterfly by BTS.

name one of your pet peeves: Overly slow drivers.

name someone you know who is an amazing singer: Hannah.

name someone who is the same religion as you: JM.

name a holiday you celebrate: Christmas.

name the last 4 digits of your phone number: That’s too many, lmao.

name one of your cousins: My cousin Lei from my dad’s side.

name a book you loved when you were younger: The entire Septimus Heap series. I must’ve reread Magyk (the first book) a hundred times.

name a song you loved when you were younger: Let’s go withhhhh Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne. Making sure there were no adults around whenever I sang along to “I’m a motherfucking princess” as an 8 year old was always a thrill.

name your favorite movie: Two for the Road.

name a popular book series: Percy Jackson.

name a musical instrument: Saxophone.

name a language: French.

name what other tabs you have open: Archive of our Own, Dailymotion, Bzoink.

name 3 things on the walls of the room you're in: The walls of the rooftop are bare.

name your house number 4.

name your high school: Nope.

name your college, if applicable: UP.

name your middle school See high school.

name your elementary school: See high school.

name the college you wish you went to/hope to go to: I was able to qualify for the university and degree I wanted to attend.

name your favorite teacher: My music teacher in high school.

name the color of your backpack: Hm, don’t really use backpacks anymore but the main one I had in college - at least until I switched to a simple handbag (aka my senior year when I started to not care lol) - was a pink Herschel backpack.

name a dessert: Leche flan.

name a famous landmark: Statue of Liberty, only because of the question after this.

name a place you might go in NYC: Tiffany’s.

name an inventor: Nikola Tesla.

name an article of clothing: Jeans.

name an ice cream flavor: Pistachio.

name a religion: Islam.

name an emotion: Resentment.

name a room in your house: Mine.

name a website: Twitter.

name a car: Hyundai Palisade.

name something you need to do today: It’s a holiday today so I technically should be off work, but since it’s a holiday squished in the middle of the week that’s just another way of saying my dayoff will be a scam lmao. That said, I need to draft an article today for a client.

name someone you admire: My dad.

name someone you miss: My two best friends.

name a part of the body: Thighs.

name the last youtube video you watched: It was a Taehyung-focused compilation.

name a quote you love: “If you really love to be loved, it’d be good to show those who love you how much you’ve changed.” There’s some background context obviously playing around in here and most people might not recognize the weight it holds if they’re unfamiliar, but it’s a quote that really means a lot to me and came to me during a time I needed to hear it.

#survey #surveys

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hayesit · 5 years ago

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matt’s 2019 year in review

here it is! and it’s late because i had other/better things to do (and procrastinating), was recovering from hangovers (also procrastinating), and recovering from being sick (procrastinating).

i’ve been doing these year in review posts since 2016, so here is my fourth installment. every year i look back through my google calendar, my camera roll, and my bullet journal as a gratitude exercise and to chart my own development as an adult.

here is my spotify wrapped 2019!

the beginning of this year was off to a good start: i met two friends that i know through the internet! i met my friend riley when she visited boston (i met her through a mutual friend and through overwatch league twitter) and my friend jimmy that i’ve known for…. 6 or 7 years (?!) through tumblr and designed the logo for me and alex’s late podcast, hardly tea, may she rest in peace.

i moved dorm rooms in between the fall and spring semester, and once again i was not happy with where i lived. i lived with 4 rando’s that i was placed with and the 5 of us barely even talked with each other. my direct roommate i saw for only two weeks, and for the nights he slept over in the bed (that he was paying room and board for) and had the worst snoring humanly possible that not even earplugs could kill (video below). i hardly slept while he was there and roamed the halls of riverview suites like a ghost due to the anxiety i felt about my lack of sleep (we love a vicious circle)! he disappeared after those two weeks without notice and i lived in fear of him returning for the rest of the semester (which he didn’t), but returned to my normal sleep schedule.

youtube

that semester was my first semester of full-time grad school. i got a poor grade on an assignment that had a note from the professor that said she knew i could do better and it hit me how much different grad school is from undergrad and how much more effort and dedication it requires. after crying in my professor’s office, my work ethic has improved since then, but it’s not anywhere near where i’d like it to be (more on that later).

now to more positive things for the spring semester: i met some friends that semester both ~on and offline~ that made the semester far more bearable AND i did however truly pop off in every last one of my powerpoint presentations for class. i looooove making powerpoints and just fuckin telling jokes about my research topic and have ppl tell me that they are looking forward to my presentation & that i should teach college classes :)!

me and 4 friends had a social group in which we’d drink and play board games and forget about the board game and drunkenly talk shit called cabam after all our first initials! i always looked forward to that and dug the group chemistry a lot.

during this semester i grew a “ beard “, otherwise known as i chose not to shave just to “ see what would happen “ (praythatitfilledin). sorry about that!

the overwatch league was something that i had to look forward to watch every week and i had my experience enhanced through sideshow and avast’s unofficial companion streams, which guaranteed lots of laughs. i have bought tickets to two boston home games in 2020 which i am very excited about! analysts have predicted boston to be in 20th place this year (there are 20 teams) but i’m still excited for the 2020 season anyway!!

i can’t have a year-in-review of 2019 without mentioning game of thrones. due to the show’s final season being undeniably weak, i enjoyed the camaraderie with the other people that watched thrones during those six weeks. i haven’t thought about the show or its universe for quite a while, unfortunately. i truly was quite into the world of westeros, but the weakness of the end of the story cheapened the journey of each of the characters, in a way. such a shame.

while i got my diploma in december 2018, i walked across the stage of umass lowell’s tsongas arena with my bachelor of arts in psychology (and minor in theatre arts). it wasn’t as emotional or triumphant of an experience and just felt weird, considering i had already gotten my diploma and was going to remain in the clutches of rowdy the riverhawk as i am staying for my masters degree in applied behavior analysis/autism studies. i brought a ceramic monkey to graduation. it didn’t have any symbolism, but i just wanted to see if they’d stop me (which they didn’t)

this summer was better than most summers of mine go, i hung out with alex nearly every weekend, got my very first iphone, and got a data plan. the combination of these three things got me back into playing pokemon go, an unexpectedly fun pastime! went on lots of walks!

my favorite day of summer was going to a lake with alex and our friend gianna, who i grew closer to after meeting her during macbeth last year. fond 2019 memories with gianna include: doing simulation patients with her, watching movies with her and alex, and the halloween party. what a great gd person and a great gd friend! big fan and eternally rooting for her.

fire emblem: three houses came out on the switch in august and is, without a doubt, my game of the year. there’s truly so much to love about the game: the world, the characters, new changes made to the series, things that were gone but returned, interesting micromanaging, and best of all, how huge my brain feels when playing it.

i got a 6-week summer job as a paraprofessional at an extended-school-year program for children with developmental disabilities at a preschool in haverhill which taught me a lot of lessons, such as: i hate cleaning shit off of children.

then i had feelings that didn’t make much sense for about a month! whoops!

my full-time job i currently have is working at my old high school as a behavior specialist. i provide consultation and work on programs to lead to more appropriate behavior in students, primarily ones with developmental disabilities. so far it’s been fairly rewarding, some days are more challenging than others, some days are a lot of sitting in meetings, and some days are a lot of running around. some days there is not much to do at all, which has its obvious upsides and downsides. working at the high school isn’t something that i want to do forever, but it’s a good place to start with. i’m definitely learning a lot and there are a lot of benefits to working here. sometimes i can work on my grad school work (which is all online until the 2020 summer semester) which is definitely huge. and my commute is either a 15 minute walk or 3 minutes if my mom drives me!

a ~complex~ thing about working in my hometown is that it makes the most financial sense to live at home because it’s so close to work. this is my first time living at home full-time since high school and i’m not enjoying that part too much. most weekends i visit alex in lowell, but being stuck at home with no car (going to retake the license test in the spring when the ice melts!) and having to go to bed so early definitely hurts. sure, i have what is likely the lowest amount of expenses i’ll ever have in my life (no car-related payments, no rent, no groceries), but i feel landlocked. i feel like a teenager with minimal freedom, which is in part because my mom doesn’t quite understand yet that i’m a 22 year-old that should have a lot more freedom than i do now. the most i really do on weekdays after work gets out (2:30p) is go to savers with my mom if it’s tuesday (senior citizen day), maybe go for a walk if it’s nice out (which for most of the school year, it isn’t), or be on the computer watching bon appetit videos and playing overwatch, fire emblem, or pokemon, eat a bland dinner at 6, go to bed at around 9:30. sad! truly not a situation that i want to be trapped in that much that much longer!

i think the best and most important part of this year was becoming closer with alex. as i mentioned before, we see each other most weekends, to our great benefit. our living situations have flip-flopped, with me living at home and alex living in an apartment near campus, which in both similar and different ways have taken their respective tolls on us. having each other while going through changes and stagnations in our lives has been immeasurably important. thank you alex for providing a place to be myself other than my own head. thank you for being my best friend.

now i come to the thing that i’m most excited about for 2020. not 2 suck my own horn but i have cobbled together a fuckin dream team of five friends (me, alex, chris, kelly, and molly). the two times we have all gotten together it has been so satisfying in such a wonderful and otherworldly way that i am filled to the brim of happiness being around them. the craziest thing is that i met chris and kelly through twitter! TWITTER. and they’re real-ass people and my real-ass friends! i haven’t been so pleased with something in my life like this for so long and it feels so good to have adult friends that i have chosen rather than friends by circumstance. it’s truly a crime that we can’t see each other more often, but we already have a day picked out for the next time we all do something together. feeling emotional writing this paragraph bc i love me gd friends so much!

there is a lot of uncertainty about this new year for me. i sure as fuck don’t want to live at home more than i have to but don’t know where to go, my practicum class starts for me this summer which means i’ll most likely have to change jobs (fine by me, but will be exhausting), i recently began my search for therapists and hope to find one soon to help me ~unpack things~, my thesis begins in the fall semester and i don’t know what to do for it, and i’m not 100% dead-set on working in special education. it’s been hard transitioning from living on campus and going to school full-time to the life i have now.

#year in review #personal

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royallyprincesslilly · 6 years ago

Text

Title: Give In (Part II)

Idris Elba X Reader “Zanzee” Mini Series (6 Part Mini Series)

Warning: Wild, wild thoughts, angst

Word Count: 3.9K

Summary: For the past 5 months has worked on the set of the “Hobbs & Shaw” movie. She works close to all the main actors and is there to answer any whim they may have as the "Set Concierge". She holds herself to a high professional level and refuses to stray from the right side of that pesky, thin grey line that those in the entertainment industry easily jump over.

Note: Will go through 1 week in the life of Zanzee Grant. Y'all I’m afraid this is as close as I will EVER get to a one shot. SMH. I cannot write a one shot to save my life.

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive Chapter***(Click the links, I am not tryna get flagged)

****Thank you guys for reading. I appreciate it as ALWAYS! If you enjoyed this please LIKE and REBLOG. ❤️ ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tuesday

You opened your eyes and stared at the ceiling of your bedroom. You glanced at the clock; 4 AM. You groaned while closing your eyes. You were pulled back into the memory from last night. The memory of nearly knocking yourself out with the weight of Idris’…. You were at a loss as what to call it. You did know that it was meaty, the weight of it on your forehead told you that the rumors about him being called “Big Driis” were not exaggerations at all. You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip and released a low moan. Unconsciously your hand moved from their place atop the mattress and traveled across your stomach downward to the apex of your thighs.

Before you knew it your fingers had a mind of their own and were quickly working you to a release, a release with Idris on your mind. You thought about all the times over the last five months where the two of you interacted, the little touches that probably meant nothing, the smiles—god that man’s smile was something of pure godly power. He smiled, and it was clear to see how he could get any woman he pleased. Your breath caught in your throat forcing a strangled gasp from your lips, and it was then you felt the first stirs of your release. Your fingers sped up chasing the release your body so desperately wanted. You zeroed in on a memory of Idris changing.

You’d accidentally walked into his trailer with some rewrites and the new wardrobe and was in time to see him zipping up his leather pants still without a shirt. In your embarrassment, you quickly turned your back and apologized profusely. He was cool about it, but you’d had enough time to glance over the hardened plane of his eight pack and his mouth-watering obliques that dipped in giving those two chiseled lines that drove women crazy since the beginning of time. It was there your memory lingered, and it was then your orgasm erupted through you. You screeched at the force of it surging through you and the ecstasy that followed.

“Jesus!”

Your body slowly returned to its normal temperature, and your heart rate slowed down. You swallowed painfully; it had taken everything out of you. You slowly sat up knowing you were not going to go back to sleep and knowing you were fucked. You’d be thinking about this all day. You got out of bed, stretched, walked to your music system and found your “wake up” playlist. You pressed play and began your routine. The loud music helped you push your dreams, and moments ago out your head and prepare for the long day ahead.

By the time your chauffeured car pulled up to the lot you had thirty minutes to spare. You sat there a few moments longer and stared out the window at the hustle and bustle of set life. You closed your eyes and did some meditation breathing you’d learned. You focused and centered yourself and made a mental list of things to accomplish for the day.

“My to-do list for today, and part of my to-do list for tomorrow, also a head start on the end of the week cast and crew dinner,” you recited.

You’d been tasked with it yesterday as if you didn’t already have a lot to do. You sighed out once more, rolled your shoulders back and raised your head high. You stepped out the car and walked across the lost eyes forward and focused. A few people hurried to you holding out folders and stacks of paper, you took them all and skimmed them as you walked to your trailer. When you stepped inside you dropped your bags and took off your sweater and took another few seconds to practice your breathing.

“You are a professional Z, pro-fes-inal,” you slowly enunciated.

You took a sip from your latté cup and flipped through the pages you’d been given. It was all set changes, script changes, new requests, tasks to complete to ensure the shots for later in the day went off without a hitch and things of that sort. You heard a faint knock at the door and turned telling them to come in. Ethan stepped up into the trailer with a bright smile on his face.

“Hey Z.

You give him a friendly smile.

“What’s up Ethan?”

“Tonight, the rest of us were meeting up at Troy’s Pub to unwind, wanted to see if you wanted to come along.”

You leaned against one of the tables, already feeling the word “no” form on your tongue.

“Before you say no, think about it, see how the day plays out. Who knows, you might need it,” Ethan said. You nodded.

“Okay, I’ll think about it.”

He nodded with a smile as he turned to leave. Before he did, he stopped and smiled back to you.

“You look good today Z.”

As quickly as he said it, he was gone. You smirked to yourself. It was the worst kept secret on set that Ethan had a crush on you, a secret you knew but ignored. If actors slept around with anyone, the same could be said about other set assistants, they all slept with each other. You turned back around and finished up.

When you walked across the lot to the morning huddle, you felt small butterflies flit in the bottom of your stomach forcing your palms to sweat. You stood to the back and listened to Peter, the assistant director as he spoke about the day’s vision and whatever other nonsense he needed to get out. He was a lot wordier than David, and you had no idea why.

After almost ten minutes he finished, and everyone began clearing out. You saw Dwayne’s back and knew Idris and Jason weren’t far from him. You slowly approached them, cautiously as if you were some timid peacock. Halfway there you snapped out of it, straightened your back and remembered you were a bad bitch, a professional bad bitch. You sped up your steps and walked over to them. Jason saw you first.

“Good morning Z,” he said with a smile, a smile you returned.

“Good morning Jason, Dwayne,” you responded noticing Idris was missing. You quickly looked around scanning the nearby vacuity for him but didn’t see him.

“He was called to do a different shoot across town. He’s filming the car chase scene,” Jason filled in. You nodded as you remembered the scene but didn’t see it on the schedule.

“Interesting, it’s not on the schedule for the day.”

“David changed his mind last minute; you know how he is, which explains Peter here instead,” Dwayne finished.

You nodded and handed them each their coffee.

“Jason, I thought we’d switch it up today, I found a nice Columbian blend that I think will put the Moroccan one as your number two,” you added. He smiled and took a sip. You waited for the verdict. He nodded his agreement.

“Eh, it’s good I won’t lie, it’s very close between the two,” Jason admitted.

“See, I told you I’m good.” He smiled and nodded.

“Is there anything you both need before I take the trip to the set across town?”

Both Dwayne and Jason shook their heads indicating they needed nothing.

“Okay, I’ve left the menus for lunch in your trailers, shoot me a text to tell me what it’s gonna be, and I’ll have it for you. Also, text me if you need anything at all,” you explained. They both nodded, Jason, waved you off before turning around to look at the set still being finished. You scoffed and shook your head.

“All right Jason, I know when I’m not wanted,” you joked.

“You’re not needed here, he needs you over there,” he slid out. Your smile slipped as you tried to grasp his meaning. As if he knew he tripped you up he smiled and turned back around.

You walked away to one of the set cars and began your projected twelve-minute drive to the second set.

Once you arrived, you looked at the chaos around. Crowds were surrounding the set, everyone trying to snap a picture of what was going on. There were groups of women holding up signs for Idris, Jason, and Dwayne. One of those signs read “I used to be a ballerina; I can do the split in four different ways, I can show you, Idris.” You couldn’t help yourself; you loudly laughed as you approached security. You showed him your badge, and he allowed you access. You walked through the swarm of crew members and made your way to the tent you knew the actors were. You juggled the items in your hands and maneuvered through the bodies littering the set. You saw Idris walk from underneath the tent out toward the row of cars. You watched the way he walked, that wide leg dip of a bow-legged man. It was attractive as hell, and it always commanded your attention. You stepped underneath the tent and smiled at the other crew members. David, the director, stood up and clapped his hands together.

“Quiet on set! Idris, you’ve got the scene?”

“Got it,” he answered. David nodded, stepped behind the lens and held his hand up signaling for all movement and sounds to cease. He counted down from five with his fingers and then pointed indicating the beginning of the scene.

In an instant, Idris leaped into action. You watched the high intensity; action scene unfold before you. There was limited dialogue just Idris showcasing why he was becoming one of the top actors to consider for an action role. He ran across the street, slide over the hood of the fancy Lamborghini, landing on his feet before he drew a gun from the holster on his thigh. He acted as if he pulled the trigger and eight loud, realistic gunshots sounded on the set. From behind him, a woman came attempting to kick him in the head. As quickly as he slid across the hood, he spun around, grabbed her leg and slammed her against the wall of the brick building thus beginning one of the fancy martial arts choreographed fight scenes. You stepped behind David and looked through the lens. It looked good, he was good.

The scene continued for another minute before David yelled “cut.” Everyone on set clapped.

“Yes, that is exactly what I wanted. Great work,” David complimented. Idris nodded as he approached the tent. A few other crew members patted him on the back and congratulated him, he accepted the praise but said nothing. The moment he saw you, you saw the blood on his eyebrow. Your smile faltered as worry rang through you. You approached him as he sat down.

“Hey Z,” Idris said.

“You’re hurt. Are you okay?” you stooped a little to get eye level with his face and examined his eyebrow.

“I’m all right, occupational hazard,” Idris joked. You ignored him and touched his temple. He sucked in a breath.

“Yeah, you’re hurt. We need a medic,” you said before you rose to turn to notify one of the set handles. Idris grabbed your hand forcing you to look at him. You looked at his hand around your wrist and then to him.

“I’m fine Z, it’s just a little cut,” he explained.

“Still, it’s their job to ensure the actors are okay. Someone should patch you up.

“It’s also your job to make sure I have everything I need. So, if I need a medic, you should patch me up,” he said his voice low. The words caught you off guard making you freeze.

Everything in you felt like that was a line. You felt like he was being flirtatious, but you couldn’t be sure. You bit your bottom lip and studied his face. He slowly let your wrist go the longer it took you to speak, and before long he broke the stare. It sure as hell wasn’t your job to clean his wounds, and it sure as hell wasn’t your job to touch him unless necessary, but everything in you wanted to. You wanted to nurse his wounds, wanted to touch him, everywhere, endlessly. Your palms tingled with how badly you felt the urge. You lifted your hand to reach for him, it brought his attention back to you but before either of you could make another move David approached. Once he saw the blood, he called medical over, and in an instant, the opportunity passed, but the air between the two of you was still charged. You turned your back to him and tried to compose yourself. You took several deep breathes and used it as a needed reprieve to get a grip on your thoughts and emotions.

Once you turned around, he was cleaned up. You cleared your throat, took up his coffee and the stack of papers and proceeded, business as usual.

“I have your coffee here, it may not be as scalding as you like, that’s my fault I’m sorry. I didn’t know your shoot was switched up today. It won’t happen again,” you explained.

“It’s fine Z, I’ll still take it,” Idris appeased as he reached out for the cup. As he took it from your hands, his fingers brushed yours, and that was all it took for the electricity to spark within you. You forced yourself to keep a straight face, careful not to give anything away. He took a long sip from the cup and moaned.

“Nothing like a British blend,” Idris sighed out. You smirked to yourself.

“Also, your schedule, I think you have a few minutes to go over it,” you said handing him a copy of the schedule. For the next few minutes, you explained the changes and every obligation he had that day. Once you were finished, he nodded.

“All right; got it.” You nodded as well.

“Okay, well that’s it for me for now. Do you want anything else from me?” he looked up at you, and his eyes dropped to your mouth and then slowly over your body before he shook his head and looked back to your face.

“Like what?”

You shrugged and smiled.

“Uh, I don’t know, anything I guess,” you said unsure how to answer his question.

“Anything. Huh, I need—” he trailed off as he stared at you. You waited for him to finish his sentence, silently hoping he would finish the sentence with the word “you.” He took a deep breath in and slowly released it, the look on his face spoke of annoyance, and something else, something close to what you imagined as disappointment.

“No Z, you’ve been great, thank you,” he said standing from his monogrammed chair. He began walking away from you toward the director and a circle of other crew members. You stood there feeling like a lost puppy, filled with disappointment.

You stayed on set for fifteen more minutes before you left to go back to Lot A to get cracking on the rest of your tasks when you left Idris was nowhere in sight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How is it possible for you to work so much?” Ethan asked, leaning against the door frame of your trailer. You looked back at him and smiled.

“Well, I have this thing called a drive to be successful,” you teased.

“Ouch, burn,” Ethan feigned faux hurt as he held his chest.

“What’s up?”

He walked further in and sat across from you.

“How are the plans coming for the end of the week?”

You sighed and rubbed your forehead.

“Well, you’re looking at them. Whose damn idea was it to have a weekly cast and crew dinner?”

“That would be Peter; he thinks it helps with team building and not keeping the actors and the crew separate. I actually like it,” Ethan explained. You nodded.

“Great. So why can’t we just recycle the same concept every week and simply reserve the same thing in advance?”

“Again Peter, he thought it would be fun to switch up themes every week,” Ethan added. You rolled your eyes.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think that you and Peter hang out off set,” you said. Ethan scoffed and shook his head.

“Do you want some help? I don’t mind.”

You looked over his face. There was a time (the first day you got on set) that you thought he was cute and thought maybe, but that changed quickly (fourth day on set) when you caught him and Tammie going at it behind one of the trailers. Since then you kept it all in perspective.

“No, I’m good. Thanks,” you answered.

“All right, was just checking in on you and dropping off this stuff for you,” Ethan said pointing behind him at a rack of clothes, and the stack of papers. You groaned and shook your head.

“Writers, they need a life, they write too damn much, nothing everything needs to be said and resaid in fifteen hundred different ways,” you ranted as you approached the stack of what you knew were rewrites. You took up the stack and rifled through them and nodded as your suspicions were confirmed.

“We all have a role to play Z; catch ya’ later.” He closed the door behind him leaving you alone with your frustrations. You knew this wasn’t work frustrations, this was lite work, you’d done some truly hard set work before, and this was in the middle. This you could handle. You knew where your frustrations were coming from and that was precisely what made you even more irritable. You rolled your head around stretching your tense muscles and counted.

You didn’t feel anywhere near calm until you’d reached eighty. You were now trecking through the lot to distribute wardrobe and rewrites to the actors’ trailers. You glanced at your phone, eight twenty. At this time, you knew Jason, Idris and Dwayne were filming another night scene across town, that thought gave you some comfort. Whenever Idris was near your body automatically went into a heightened state of suspension, it wouldn’t relax, and the longer you remained close to him the worse it became. You quickly dropped off items in Dwayne’s and Jason’s trailers making sure to take any notes they’d left for you for the next day and the week. A task that was supposed to be ten minutes tops was made longer by little micro errands you had to complete between dropping items off.

By the time you made it to Idris’ trailer, it was almost nine thirty. Without thinking you opened the door to the trailer and climbed the three steps inside. You flicked on one of the lamps and the space lit up with a soft white hue leaving darkness throughout the majority of the trailer. You placed the stack of papers on the desk you normally did, saw no notes for you and proceeded to walk toward the area you knew held a decent sized relaxation area. When you rounded the corner, you flicked on another light prepared to drape the wardrobe items across the bed.

A door opened to your right and out came Idris with water beads peppered across his chiseled chest. You stared at him without moving so much as a muscle and traveled the length of his torso. As your eyes took in his smooth skin, they spent extra time on his abs and inevitably his brain-numbing oblique indentations.

“Jesus Christ!” you panted out, the desire in your voice clear. You quickly looked up to meet his eyes that bored holes into you. A chill ran up your spine, and you arched your breasts forward. Idris’ eyes dropped to your breasts, and you saw his tongue peek out and dart across his full lips.

“Fuck!” you grunted in a pleading voice.

You had no idea what you were pleading for. It could have been for strength, mercy or for him to do just that push you against a wall and fuck you. With your run-away thoughts, you looked back down across his body, and it was then you saw he had a towel wrapped around his waist with an evident bulge asking for attention. You took a small step forward but hesitated to complete it. The look on his face went to an expression of hope. You took two steps back and recollected your senses.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you rushed out, closing your eyes and turning your back to give him some privacy.

“I had no idea you were in here; I thought you were still filming. I came in to drop some things off. If I had known you were in here, I never would have--,” you trailed off.

You pinched your lips together embarrassment taking over. He didn’t speak; you didn’t even know if he moved. You wanted to look back but knew your strength, and that was more than you could take. If you looked back, you would cross a line. After another almost minute of silence you nodded.

“Right, I’m sorry again. Your wardrobe for tomorrow is there, rewrites and other tidbits on the table. Good night,” you rambled on as you walked toward the door and quickly out of it.

Instead of walking back to your trailer you ran with a horrified expression plastered across your face. There were still two more scenes to film for the night, but you stayed away from him for the rest of the night. You kept away from watching the filming, made sure not to be anywhere he was. Instead, you busied yourself with trying to get ahead for the next day. No matter how busy you made yourself, you still couldn’t stop thinking about him, or it. It looked heavy and felt solid. If that was true, then the rumors were very well quite possibly very true.

By the time eleven o’clock rolled around you couldn’t deal anymore and left to go home but with the amount of manic energy you had home was not an option. Instead, you called Andra and your friends and had them meet you at your go-to bar to unwind.

One drink turned to three and three turned to nine, and before you knew it, you were dancing on a table with your friends all around you cheering you on. When you got home, it was almost three in the morning. You expected to be tired and too drunk for your brain to work, but nope, like clockwork, you remained up with thoughts of Idris, his abs and his abundant blessing from the God almighty.

To Be Continued….

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#give in fic #idris elba #idris elba is daddy #idris elba fanfic #idris elba thirst #idris elba x you #idris elba x reader #idris elba smut #idris elba x black reader #black fanfiction #fanfiction

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mobscene-london · 6 years ago

Photo

BASIC INFORMATION:

NAME: John ‘Jack’ Katz. AGE: 35. PLACE OF BIRTH: New York City, New York, United States. AFFILIATION: Neutral. OCCUPATION: A-list movie actor, and stand-up comedian. FACE CLAIM: Robert Sheehan. AVAILABILITY: TAKEN.

BIOGRAPHY:

Jack was born to a first-generation Irish immigrant and a Jewish man whose family had been established for a very, very long time out on Long Island. His parents met, fell in love, and started their family in the city that never sleeps, until it was their baby boy and not their late nights partying that was keeping them up all night. They adored city life too much to leave it, they just needed a city that went at a different pace, and found their home in Washington, D.C., where Jack took his first steps just a few blocks from the White House. His father started work as a corporate lawyer and his mother started working for a non-profit, first as a volunteer and then working her way up to an intern, paid secretary, and higher and higher over the years.

From a young age, Jack always had creative talents. He got distracted during T-ball and would start fantastical conversations with other students, and found infinite humor in how upset his coach got over it. He was signed up for art lessons, but rarely drew or painted the pictures he was asked to by the teacher. His artistic talent was obvious from a young age, but he grew tired of lessons before long and his parents settled for just giving him piles of coloring books, sketchbooks, and art kits. A couple years into elementary school, they started to grow concerned with the familiar teacher’s notes of “Jack is a wonderful student, but we wish he would speak up more.” A new job offer for Mr. Katz brought the family out to Chicago, and Jack’s parents decided it might be a chance for their quiet son to try out his artistic skills in a different arena.

Jack was signed up for the school play without being asked, but in hindsight, it’s the best thing that ever happened to him. Something about being on a stage was so different than being in a normal conversation, and it was as if he was a completely different person who was completely detached from the real world. Because he signed up late and was still only in second grade, he was just in ensemble. Five minutes into his first performance, his parents were nearly crying with joy as they watched their shy little boy strutting confidently around the stage and were so pleased to see him part of a small crowd of kids after and chattering away with them.

Joining drama didn’t miraculously change Jack’s entire disposition. Off-stage, he was still very shy, and as a result, many of his friends throughout the years were only met through school and community theater. He didn’t mind at all, finding comfort and support in a group of people who all seemed to understand the way it seemed like a little switch went on once someone was on stage. When he was fifteen and this time it was his mother who was offered a position back in New York City at her non-profit’s headquarters, Jack was heartbroken to leave his close-knit group of friends. Especially right before the school’s performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream where he was to play Puck.

It was a hard adjustment to move back to the city that his parents kept calling home but that he didn’t recognize at all. He spent many afternoons sneaking into the movies and watching the latest released comedies and dramas. With no play to focus on, he became a lot more interested in television and film acting, and informed his parents he wanted to start signing up for auditions. Nothing big, just as an extra for films in New York. Their one rule was that he couldn’t miss school for it, but by the time he reached seventeen, he barely attended any of his afternoon classes. Far more often than not he didn’t get the gig, but those few times in two years that he did were enough to boost his confidence that he started sending out more and more audition tapes and dedicating all his time to it.

For his eighteenth birthday, Jack’s dad took him to see a comedian they both liked. The comedian was dry, just like Jack and his mother, but it never occurred to him that his sarcastic observations of the world could be used to entertain until that night. It was like an epiphany, and he went home that night with his audition planner now filled with random words and phrases he wanted to piece together into a comedy set. He found an open mic comedy place that was supposedly good for beginners and went back three weeks in a row despite his hands shaking (unnatural for him on stage) and getting booed off every single time before he finished.

It took another few audience rejections for Jack to finally find his groove when he realized it didn’t have to be him up on stage, it could be a character. A sharp, dry, critical character with a penchant for using the microphone, stand, and stool as physical comedy props to add to his sets. His parents tried to ground him when they found out he’d been missing so much school and hadn’t sent out college applications in time, but he was so certain he was on the right path that he didn’t care. He stayed home and wrote and wrote, and took videos testing out material, or tested it out in front of his family. His parents always tried to act uninterested, but it could only last so long before they cracked.

Over the course of a year, Jack worked his way through the comedy clubs in the city. He stopped sending out audition tapes or attending casting calls and focused all his time on comedy. He got and lost three day jobs in the course of the year, but all that mattered was he had just enough in his bank account to get into the clubs and pay whatever fees might be necessary. Eventually, he was the one getting paid to perform, and introduced to people whose names he now worshipped despite not knowing three years before. One night, when he was drunk on too many beers other people bought him after his set and just about ready to stumble home, someone mentioned a name that was perhaps the most effective sobering agent he could’ve asked for. The executive producer of Saturday Night Live wanted to speak with him.

Jack sweated his way through the audition and thought he was finished, but it turned out to be just the beginning. He was thrown into the mix, gaining recognition and exposure he never imagined he’d have at such a young age. Three years went by in a hilarious, stressful, anxiety-ridden, often drunk haze, with non-stop work during the live season and dozens of small roles in comedic movies and stand-up gigs scheduled during the off-season. He made a new friend and connection in the business every week it seemed. He had major backlash over a joke from a set that went viral, but it was more loved than it was hated so his manager said it was a good thing. The fact he got a manager was perhaps the most shocking thing of all to him.

At the end of his third season with SNL, Jack was offered the opportunity for a major role in a former cast mate’s film that was getting huge buzz even before the casting was finalized. It wasn’t his manager’s prodding but his friends’ and family’s that made him choose the movie, which meant not returning to SNL for the next season. He made his final appearance, said his good-byes, and then jetted off with his younger brother and a couple friends to travel for a month before arriving in London for filming. While filming, Jack fell in love with the city. He finally understood how his parents could call New York City their home. Since he’d technically still been living with his parents, at twenty-two he bought his first flat in Hackney Wick.

For the past five years, Jack has been switching between brief stand-up tours around the United States and Europe and starring in a couple other major comedic films and TV shows and that one indie drama his manager didn’t want him to do. He still remains based in London, though technically also has an apartment in New York City where his brother and a friend live but he crashes at when he’s in the States.

Though it has been a fast five years, Jack is aware of when he’s reached his limit and won’t be afraid to go on a “hiatus” for a month or two to travel, maybe take some community art classes, and just relax. He’s also developed a bit of a habit and reputation for skipping awards shows. He likes to make up excuses that he was just sick, but in reality, he feels too uncomfortable at them and prefers to just show up at the after party that allows the most casual attire after watching the awards from his flat.

SOCIAL CONNECTIONS:

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single. FAMILY: Daniel Katz (younger brother)

#taken #takenm #neutral #jackkatz #robert sheehan

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daydreaminghaven · 6 years ago

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I needed a rant

I'm just going to write this down because I don't know how else to deal with this at the moment. My roommate is an asshole, it's gotten to bad that at this point I'm literally on the verge of tears. She is inconsiderate and rude and I don't know what to do. Sometimes my gut just tells me to go fucking punch the shit out of her but I wont because I'm better than that. I know for a fact that she could never beat my ass and it's not like I'm scared of her it's just that I'm scared of losing this home. I don't want to move anymore and if I do result to violence I'll be out and who knows where I'll be next? The last thing I want or need is too be in another fucking group home which will be right where I'm headed if I lose this place. '

And what could make me come to all of this? When I first met my roommate I knew we were not going to become close friends it was like I could see the future. You know when you meet someone and you just feel their negative energy? Well it was like that with her. Nevertheless, being that I just came out of a hellish rehabilitation program it was a miracle that I somehow was given a foster home. Foster homes are very, very rare for someone my age- especially coming from someone who was currently in a rehab. All anyone wants are little kids, and as a matter of fact my foster parent even admits she wasn't going to take me because she herself only wanted young kids. The only reason she took me is because I have an interest in church, quote me.

If I had to go to a group home then so be it, but now that I'm here I don't want to lose what I have. The problem with group homes is that they occupy too many people. Just imagine what its like to be living with 5-9 teenage girls mixed in with 3 or 4 tired, angry under-payed, overworked staff members (that switch out 3 times a day) all under the same roof. It's not pretty. There's ALWAYS fights, there's ALWAYS drama, ALWAYS something weather it be someone running away, two or more girls not getting along or a staff member not doing their job, or overstepping boundaries; there is constant stress. All. The. Time.

For someone who likes solitude, quietness, this kind of environment is- it's just horrible. It's already bad enough but then mix in someone who can't handle that kind of lifestyle and it can worsen their mental health, it can lead to self harm, suicidal ideations or worse.

Once upon a time I used to be able to handle group homes, I just moved along when the drama happened, it was frustrating definitely (not just for me but for everyone), but it wasn't unbearable. But then I moved... And I moved again. And again. Then I started getting more fed up with it, then I started breaking down more easily, and self harmed, attempted suicide. I started to runaway, and use drugs... And every time I moved the staffs/therapists/supervisors seemed to care less and less and it was so frustrating. There were so many rules but so much unacceptable behavior slipping right under the rug!

And there was pretty much nothing you could do about it.

Then I got put in that rehabilitation and residential program which was some of the worst times in my life. It was like a bad group home to the max. You thought 9 teenage girls was bad? try 18-29. Together, all fucking day. No phones or internet, you had to be cut off- you couldn't even have a diary or pass notes without it needing to be checked everyday. You can bet there was fights and drama all the time, you couldn't leave the campus at all until months after you arrived. Not even mentioning that there was a strict schedule when to, sleep eat, shower, have mandatory groups that everyone hated. The staff in these places was even worse, virtually EVERYONE hated their job, and the staff in programs are allowed to put there hands on you if deemed necessary, and oh-fucking-boy did they. That power was abused way to fucking often but you want to try to run away? Straight to jail for 90 days just to get sent back and have to start all of your progress over from scratch... or possibly get sent to an even longer program.

These programs are technically 6 months but most people end up there for 8 to 9 months. You are given a set of 5 'levels' or 'phases' that you have to complete in order to get discharged from the program. Some kids are lucky and their insurance runs out and their parents can't pay to keep them there. I wasn't that lucky considering my parent is the state of fucking Florida. I'm grateful to be able to have good insurance and all but fucking hell that place was bad. Due to having to move to a switch different program 5 months after I was sent to my first program (over something that wasn't my fault, it had to due with medication issues which is a whole other story), I had to start all of my progress over and start the levels off from scratch. I spent 8 months in my second program making 13 months completely cut off from society (did I mention you weren't even allowed to watch the news?). That’s where I spent Christmas, Halloween, Mothers and Fathers day, even my birthday. I was discharged just two fucking days after my birthday. Just two. Anyways, the point is, I worked really, really hard to prove that I was responsible enough to get a foster home and I did. Even though my roommate is a fucking asswipe dealing with one girl is better than 9. At least I can kind of ignore her. But It's just so hard to act like it's not that bad she’s always

-touching and stealing my belongings -throwing actual garbage with bloody tampons in it over my ART SUPPLIES -always calling me disgusting and dirty when this bitches side of the closet -smells like fish -talking dirty to boys late at night (I don't want to hear about how you want to eat his ass. Stop it. Get some help.) -using my towel that I bathe with to clean the floor with BLEACH FUCKING BLEACH -USING MY LOAFERS AND WASH RAGS -plays loud angry rap music, or movies at full volume all night, usually until 2am, -or really early in the morning to wake me up WHEN SHE OWNS FUCKING HEADPHONES -Talks shit about me to everyone that comes through the door of this house (and loudly)

and I’m over here basically kissing her ass because anything is better than those fucking group homes. And I've tried to ask her to stop, or turn down her music, I've tried confronting her- and peacefully and respectfully but she either ignores me or gets violent. I've tried tried telling the foster parent, my therapist and no one is doing anything. I'm backed up into a corner. Like I said before, I'm not scared for my life, this bitch is like 5'3 (no offense to short people) but like I could kick her punk ass any day- and I would if I number 1.) wasn't trying to better myself and number 2.) cared about this home so fucking much. I just don't know what to do except pray and try to focus on other things. I wish I could just sleep in the living room. I keep breaking my headphones because I have to sleep with rain noises or something to drown out whatever she decides to play. Can you believe she has the audacity to wake me up just tell me to turn down my headphones when she tries to sleep? Like they aren’t even big headphones they are 6 dollar earbuds how loud can they be?! I do every single time though because I'm trying to 'stay blameless in Gods eyes' because I believe in karma and also if I didn't she would probably do something really petty like purposefully play loud music to wake me up even earlier or play it all night so I can't sleep.

It really sucks. I have to live with this person for 110 more days (and, yes, I have it marked on my calendar) but one day she'll be gone and I wont have to deal (or smell) this person again. So hopefully I'll have some more learned patience by then.

The whole reason for me even righting this is because yesterday she asked me to turn the light off in our room when I'm not using it (which is understandable, except you're never home anyways nor do you pay the bills) and of course when she came home the next day I made sure the light was off (did I mention the reason I'm not in the room when she comes home is because I avoid being in there when she is? My foster parent apparently thought that was important enough to report to my therapist like I have problems-But when I tell you whats actually going on you don't do anything about it so like...). Then today when came home I asked her to close the door when she goes in the room, while she was going to the room (because I can still hear whatever she plays from the living room). Guess what? She looked right at me, then walked to the room which is right across the living room and left the door wide open ON PURPOSE. Later on she said that basically it's not her job and that if I want it closed then I need to walk over and close it every time she leaves it open. It pissed me off so much that I just needed to write my feelings out because there isn't anything else I can do about it. Maybe when I'm older I'll look back on this and think 'wow look how strong you are now' and hopefully by then I'll be in a position where if someone is being an outright dick I can punch the shit out of them on the spot- I mean deal with them professionally.

just 110 more days Jasmine, you can do it. Do it for yourself girl do it for your boo thang

#what do i do #i need advice #advice

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cityoflondon-rp-blog · 6 years ago

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BASIC INFORMATION:

NAME: John ‘Jack’ Katz. AGE: 27. PLACE OF BIRTH: New York, New York City, United States. RESIDENCE: Hackney Wick, Hackney. OCCUPATION: A-list movie actor, and stand-up comedian. FACE CLAIM: Robert Sheehan.

BIOGRAPHY:

While filming, Jack fell in love with the city. He finally understood how his parents could call New York City their home. Since he’d technically still been living with his parents, at twenty-two he bought his first flat in Hackney Wick.

For the past five years, Jack has been switching between brief stand-up tours around the United States and Europe and starring in a couple other major comedic films and one indie drama his manager didn’t want him to do. He still remains based in London, though technically also has an apartment in New York City where his brother and a friend live but he crashes at when he’s in the States.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Humorous. Creative. Open-minded. Level-headed. NEGATIVE TRAITS: Anxious. Shy. Defiant. Unfulfilled.

SOCIAL CONNECTIONS:

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single. FAMILY: Daniel Katz (younger brother) IDEAL CONNECTIONS:

#1 Younger brother. As a writer in the making, Jack’s little brother needs to come to London - or so Jack is insistent upon saying. He feels less anxious and shy around family, and though Daniel isn’t necessarily the most outgoing person, he would like to have the man as a plus one at events where Jack still isn’t sure how to act around people who only know his stage persona.

#2 Manager. Jack is admittedly wary of the well-seasoned manager he only just hired a couple years ago. Jack purposefully keeps things a bit distant, afraid that if he gets to close he might get too sucked into the idea of wanting money more than anything. He makes sure his manager runs everything by him first.

#taken #takenm #b:hackney #robert sheehan #I AM A HAPPY BUNNY #COME TO ME ♥

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one-of-us-must-be-crazy · 6 years ago

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From @jane-shepard to the lovely @lemon-jacks ! It’s about 2k and features your prompt “make a wish” which I found very fitting for them as a whole.

Also, a shoutout to @chryseis. If you’re familiar with their piece on Samuels, you might notice some VERY obvious references in here.

Samuels Unit 12 is built in 2135.

There are only twelve Samuels units made in total, of which he is the last. From there, the software used to develop his intelligence is tweaked for refinement and carried onto the next project. They avoided making too many with the same appearance; androids of his kind were built to blend in, and the Company wanted to minimize the risk of them being confused with one another.

They model him after an actor, one well-known during the height of his fame but forgotten over time. His appearance and personality are designed from the ground up to be remarkably unremarkable. Non-threatening and trustworthy, but plain and easy to look at.

From there, he is free to develop naturally – albeit with a short leash. His inhibitors and parameters guide his learning and behavior, but he is alive.

With his first act of free will, he chooses the first name ‘Christopher’ from the offered list of monikers. His personality evolves, setting him apart from the twelve that came before him. He is Christopher, friendlier than his counterparts and far more mild-mannered.

At the end of the six month trial, the Samuels models are sent to separate destinations. His polite disposition lands him a position as a mediation android aboard the USCSS Agnis.

There is a day, a year after his creation, when he hears his coworkers discussing a movie. The Big Sleep. An old film, but one that Samuels himself had enjoyed.

“I loved that film,” he interrupts politely, eagerly. “I found it –“

One of his coworkers scoffs. “Thanks but no thanks, Samuels,” he says. “If I wanted a synthetic opinion, I’d ask.”

‘They think that I’m incapable of loving something,’ he realizes, forcing himself to maintain a pleasant smile. ’They think that I cannot feel.’

Surely, that is not true. He must be capable of processing emotion, as he knows for a fact that shame and humiliation are not the result of his coding. And yet, he feels them anyway.

Behind him, an oil-smeared engineer slips away, her fists clenched at her sides. He does not notice her.

.:.:.:.

He scans down a list of medications, reading impossibly, inhumanly fast, and he’s halfway down the second page when he notices he’s being watched. Samuels lifts his head, and the woman across the room pushes herself up from the wall.

“Interesting choice in reading material,” she comments boredly, and he recognizes sarcasm in her tone. A joke. She doesn’t wait for him to react, and folds her arms across her chest. They’re streaked with something dark. Joint oil, most likely. Engineers rarely wandered to the main levels of the ship, so she had to have a reason for being here. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Ah, there it was.

“Of course,” he replies. “How may I help?”

“That movie they were talking about,” she says, jerking her thumb in the direction of the mess hall. “The Big Sleep, what is it about? Everyone is talking about it, but I missed movie night with the crew.”

Christopher is almost taken aback. Her excuse is flimsy, but the desire behind it is sincere; she wanted his opinion.

Her name is Amanda, he learns later. She is not a nice woman, but she is kind.

.:.:.:.

She always seems to find him when she wants company, though Samuels never asks why. There are many things he does not do. He does not offer anything more than polite conversation, and he does not make assumptions about why she keeps returning for it.

He does not ask Ripley about her life. Her file tells him that she’s been here terribly long, and he wonders if that makes her terribly lonely. He does not ask about that, either.

Ripley often comes down to the mess hall with smudges on her face, but Samuels never finds a polite opportunity to tell her so.

One day, she pauses while peeling an apple to brush her hair away from her face, and her hand comes away grey.

“Shit,” she says, looking up at him. “Have I had stuff on my face this entire time?”

He cannot lie to her. “You often do,” he replies, and she grimaces.

Ripley sets down her apple to grab a napkin, and wipes her hands before scrubbing at her face. “Damn. I wish you’d told me. I probably look like a mess.”

“You don’t look at yourself before you leave the workshop?” he asks, curious. Ripley gives him an incredulous look, snorting.

“Not if I can help it.” Samuels doesn’t have time to think about what she means by that before she’s moving on. “Am I clean now?”

Her face is free of oil streaks and smudges, and Samuels nods. Ripley picks up her half-peeled apple again, twisting it around to see where she’d left off. “Next time I have something on my face, let me know, alright?”

“Duly noted, Ripley.”

.:.:.:.

As usual, she’s the one who seeks him out.

Once, he had wondered why Ripley did not have any friends aboard the Agnis; she had been here so long, he assumed she must have formed bonds with the people aboard.

A quick study at the personnel logs told him that the Agnis switched staff every time it docked at the system’s space station. This happened every six months, lining up with the ships’ schedule for data drops.

Digging deeper only told him that many of the staff were slated for short stays from the start. Employment aboard the Agnis was usually a temporary arrangement before We-Yu promoted them elsewhere.

That left Ripley with a constantly shifting group of coworkers – which left little room for camaraderie. His previous look into Ripley’s file told him that she had been offered a host of promotions, all of which she had turned down.

He’s sure the answer why lies in her private file, but he refrained from digging too deeply into people’s lives. Employment logs told him what he needed to know, and he’d learned quite a bit about Ripley on his own.

(She knew at least eight card games, but he’d only ever seen her play solitaire. While her mother preferred cats, Amanda was fond of dogs – but only large breeds. She liked fresh strawberries, but had to settle for freeze-dried.)

He’s reviewing transfer requests when she finds him. She’s lacking any black smudges on her face today, but he notices a smaller discrepancy on her cheekbone.

When he points it out, Ripley reaches up to brush at her cheek. “Oh,” she says, and lets out a short laugh, “an eyelash. You can make wishes with these.”

“A wish?” Samuels asks. He doesn’t really understand the concept of wishing on such little things. It was probably a niche belief – many of which he wasn’t familiar with.

“Yeah. They say if you wish upon a stray eyelash, it will come true,” Ripley says, and brushes her hands against her coveralls. “Wishing isn’t something I do anymore, but it’s cute to watch kids do it.”

She moves on to invite him to the mess hall with her, but Samuels spends the rest of the evening pondering what she had said.

Wishing served no purpose, and yet people found countless opportunities to do it. They wished upon everything – candles, flowers, stars, even stray eyelashes.

He knew from their short friendship that she was too logical to rely on miracles, but he still wonders.

What had Ripley wished for in the past?

.:.:.:.

Ripley lays a card down, the lacquered ’fwip’ almost lost to the ambient sound of the engineering hold. Samuels still notices, and he looks up to see her gathering up the cards. Another successful game. He wonders if she ever gets bored of winning solitaire.

He knows for a fact that playing it would make him… antsy? He’s not sure what word he’d use to describe the itching sensation that he could be doing something better with his time. Perhaps his productivity protocols were too intense for him to enjoy such pasttimes.

He watches her hands as she shuffles. Likely getting ready for another round. “Do you spend much time playing, Ripley?”

“When I’ve finished what I’m supposed to do, yeah,” she replies easily, and leans back in her chair. “Not much else to do here.”

“Why not transfer?” he asks, ignoring the insistent feeling that he shouldn’t. He’s briefly reminded of The Big Sleep and his coworkers’ rejection. Stepping out of line wasn’t impossible for him, but it was rarely rewarded. “Your record here is impressive; you could easily land a more exciting post.”

He half expects Ripley to reply with something snide – lash out and tell him he’d overstepped, but she only rocks farther back in her chair. She’s silent for a long moment as she absentmindedly cuts the deck.

“My mom disappeared in this region a while back,” she says, voice level. “She was a warrant officer aboard the Nostromo.”

She shrugs, leaning forward until all four feet of her chair hit the ground. “So, I decided to follow her into the great beyond.” Ripley begins laying down cards, her movements methodical and practiced. “I figured if I stuck around long enough, I might find something.”

When the final card is placed, she flips it over to reveal the nine of diamonds.

“Closure, maybe.”

.:.:.:.

A month later, Samuels is given an assignment.

(An order, actually, but Weyland-Yutani preferred to use particular vocabulary when dealing with these sorts of things.)

He is to recruit and accompany an engineer aboard the Torrens, a small commercial starship destined for Sevastopol Station. Several other engineers had been considered already, but the Agnis sourced from some of the best – many of whom were looking for better work.

The details of the mission are scant, but they tell him enough.

“The USCSS Torrens [MSV-7760], is to retrieve the flight-recorder unit of the USCSS Nostromo [1809246-09], which was recovered and taken to Sevastopol Station by the USCSS Anesidora [NCC 88-LS] in 2137.”

Mention of the Nostromo makes Samuels pause, and thinks immediately of Ripley. She had lingered in this system for years, waiting for any mention of her mother and the ship’s fate, and now her chance had arrived.

A part of him knows it is disingenuous to tap her solely because of her connection to the case, but Samuels finds himself considering her anyway. She was a talented engineer, and young enough to recover from the stasis rather quickly. Nothing told him she shouldn’t be chosen for the opportunity.

And perhaps, this would bring her the closure she desired.

.:.:.:.

He comes to regret this. Before, his most vivid memories of Amanda Ripley involved her hands poised over playing cards, black smudges over her cheeks, and her face when she was particularly focused.

Now, he thinks of her worn ragged, with a burn mark on her temple.

He had wanted to offer a solution: an opportunity to find what she’d been searching for.

Above all, Christopher Samuels had wanted. He had desired something above the improvement of Weyland-Yutani’s brand and the wellbeing and safety of his assigned crew. He had strived towards something beyond his protocol.

In retrospect, the idea terrified him. He had made a decision based more on his own opinion than the facts he was given, and it was endangering someone he’d come to know. A woman who had evolved beyond a employment record and a name.

That terrified him too, but what scared him more was the idea that Amanda Ripley would die here, without ever knowing what happened to her mother.

Without ever getting what she wished for.

When he considers Ripley – her lonely years aboard the Agnis, the promotions she turned down, the wish she did not make – the decision to give his own life for her is an easy one.

That, at least, he does not regret.

#submission #isolation summer gift exchange

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sayofchains88 · 3 years ago

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Chapter Nine: Dawn and Midnight Paranoia by OrangeLetters88~

"Were going to be meeting two famous late night talk show hosts of Midnight Paranoia, plus we doing a pact with them because it is very hard to get one scheduled with them." Steele shouts excited more than usual.

"Sounds nice to me, getting out would be really nice after the ordeal I went through." He replies nervously shaking. She puts her hands on his to get them to stop. "Sorry...I am not okay. Now were okay. I mean I feel better, but I feel for now I still feel scared. I...I was so scared Steel!"

She tips his head on her shoulder. "I am so sorry it took so long to find you. We almost had no leads. Forgive me."

"No...you are fine. I forgive them, but they really messed with me. I want to hate them so badly, but I can't...everyone is so messed up inside I realize now." He places his palm on face trying to not to cry.

"Shhh...it's okay Alex...this is not something to come out of easily. What happened became your life for what was a month. A lesser man would be destroyed by this, but you came out on top." Steel says trying to comfort him.

"What's worse is Alice barely recognizing me. It was a nightmare and I tried so hard to ignore it because if I did try to convince her I would surely go mad..." He pours his heart. It is so heavy with grief. " I have a trouble looking at blood right now. It makes me sick to my stomach, but I can't tell anyone."

"Alex, calm down please! I promise you are safe now and we will take care of you on the trip okay?" Steel almost in tears from seeing Alex lost in what happened. "Please...calm down."

"I will be okay..." Alex replies upset breathing in and out slowly holding his chest with eyes closed. Christian comes out stretching his arms.

"I couldn't sleep. You two are out are early this morning." He said yawning.

"Christian...I have one request of you and Alice please..."

"Yeah, what's up man?" Christian responds confused.

"Never call me Master. I mean never ever never! I am no one's master." He replies miserably.

"You are brother, my bud, my mentor, my friend. After all the bullshit we been through I am sure you see us as equals." Christian responds lighting a cigarette.

"When did you start smoking?"

"I always have, but with everything I picked it back up due to stress. I have never had to be a detective before. You know the best part is when we couldn't make a perfect plan..." Christian explains slightly muffled with the cig in his mouth pointing to his head. "I thought well think like Alex and walk in like at Coopers."

"I should expect that...I am not really a good influence, am I?"

"No brother, you teach me to put it forward. Life isn't like some movie on the big screen, but I am sure you learned that pretty quickly as well." Christian counters taking another hit of the cigarette before putting it out. "Most of all I missed you and Alice. I was by myself even though I am with Mars, but it just felt empty is all."

"He wouldn't stop chain smoking. Had a hard time to get him to go hunting for prey or taking blood. He was much too worried."

"Steel, shhh. I have had blood since then. I knew if I got weak I couldn't help you Alex..." Christian says a little embarrassed. "Anyways we will be leaving soon. I volunteered switches with Clarence for driving since it's awhile away."

"Where is Colleen at?" Alex questions.

"Because of you she wants to make good on her life with her human father. We will see her when she is back..." Steel confirms.

Mars comes out with a backpack full of clothes running to the car. Alice follows behind with a small suit case and Clarence carrying a full carry on with wheels at the bottom. "You guys are much too excited." Steel laughs recalls she hasn't fully packed her bags and darts to the room.

Alex sluggishly makes his way to the room he was staying to pack. "Alex, please package the vials of blood? They will only last a day so we need a scrubber and insert brushes to wash them as well!" Alice shouts from the doorway.

After he packs he makes his way to the storage room. He takes a deep breathe seeing the vials packed in a long square of ten on the rack. The bubble wrap in squares to the side in a rogue box that is tilting.

His hands shake; he brings his hand to chin wondering if he should say he is busy and needs someone else to get the vials. Some reason he can feel himself hyperventilate the closer he gets. He stoops as he tries to pull it together, but passes out.

Moments later he is looking up at Steel who came too late. "Don't tell anyone Steel. I got to find a way to get over this. I feel like a failure of a vampire now."

She helps him get up on his feet dusting him off. She wraps the vials and sticks them in a sealed box to keep them from view. "I should have gotten the vials instead of you. I knew, but was a little per-occupied."Steels says blushing.

"I will think I will just wait in the car." He gets in the car taking the window spot so he could lean into the window. The car ride is hard on him due to being trapped in a small space. He tells himself it's only temporary.

Half way there they stop to get gas and stretch. Steel walks when she is pushed by a robber, she does a quick back flip kicking him on his butt with just a push of her leg and snatching him by the back of jacket.

The lady comes out shocked. "Are you a performer?" She says on the cell phone with the police.

"I accidentally did that on reflex, but glad you are safe at least." Steel replies nervously. Steel hands money for the fuel and takes off before any cops come.

"Why are we popping off so fast? Shouldn't we wait to take report?" Christian questions Steel who seemed guilty driving off.

"Most of the cops in this area are already suspicious of vampires. I tend forget you are new, but never stay long in any area...one knows me very well. I am not looking forward to seeing him."

"Oh...so what happens if they realize you are vampire?" Christian replies even more curious.

"We will never be able to retrieve you. We call these cases clean cut disappearances even though we know what they are. Usually they become brainwashed slaves like K-9. They have their own case squad once identified."

Christian shivered at the thought of it. Alex covers his head with hands. Alice semi wraps her arms around him when she observes him dunking into his arms. He looks at her with a smile. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just can't wait till we get there is all."

"The smell of new blood is enticing." Clarence interrupts envisioning causing him to slick his back.

"Calm down Romeo. Not even there yet and you are already thinking about it." Steel says pinching his arm.

"I can't help it; fresh blood tastes better than old blood for me...I also can't eat food like some of you!" Clarence points out to Steel. She pulls in to a hotel. Their room is a shared with four beds, two to each room.

"We have rules when I do trips. We travel in pairs, when we meet Joshua and Alan we will all be together. This town is huge and known for kidnappings and killings due to the high volume of tourists it gets down here! "Steel lays down the rules for Alex's group.

Mars looks around a little till he takes notice of Clarence gone. "Steel, your man is gone."

"He what?" Steel shouts running out the door with her card key. Mars ends up laughing before stopping.

"Christian, want to get a bite with me?" Mars asks kicking his feet out. Christian gets his jacket on his way out patting Alex's head. Alice follows behind leaving Alex in the joint room by himself.

He drops on the bed face first with his hands out. "I don't want to be here...I don't know where I want to be..."

The television flickers on by itself. "Hello my name Joshua! And my name is Alan! This is Midnight Paranoia. We got back from break so let's start at new caller. Hello who is this? What exactly have you come here for today?"

"Hi, umm well you see well first off my name Dawn. I am right outside your door Alex..."

Alex scrambles to open the door. "Hello Alex. It's been a very long time. I knew you were coming."

He shuts the door behind hearing it click behind, but also knows Mars and Steel have the keys.

"Dawn, what's going on? Why now?"

"Because..." She said giving him a small kiss on the lips. "I saw a vision something bad is going to happen in the town. I need your help."

"My book is inside...I accidentally locked myself out." He cries. "Also how did you do that? Vampires can't do that? Can they?"

"Before I became a vampire I was on my way to becoming a witch so I know a little up my sleeve, but it's slowly fading. I am out of practice now. Being a vampire already expands most of my energy..." Dawn replies.

She takes his hand and runs. "Where are we going?"

"To Midnight Paranoia, I have tickets for the backdoor bang!"

"Backdoor bang, what in the world is being carried out at something called backdoor bang?

"It's literally where we drink blood and chill. Come on like old times!" She says when he drops her hand. He stands still; he expresses horror instead of interest.

"Look right now I am not hungry; I will go sniff my clan mates out." He replies walking the other direction.

"How can you not be hungry in this place? It is a paradise of human tourists. What happened to you?

"I don't want to go into it today Dawn. Maybe another time..."

"I mean you are locked out anyways. Just come and join me." Dawn laughed.

He gives up and comes with her after much pleading. It seems maybe she just missed his presence. The hotel was surprisingly not far from the late night crowds of college students on spring break shouting at the DJ who making beats literally on a cherry picker. Strobe lights, party lights and beams of colored lights mixing and matching with each other in the chaos of weed smokers, bongs and dancers.

The whole scene is a wild affair to Alex. You could not tell a human from a vampire in this display of madness. He wondered if Steel and Clarence was attracted to these events and why?

Walking through the crowds he would spot some people looking directly at him before glancing away. Making it to a back door, walls covered for soundproof from the outside. Dawn flashes the tickets.

Two twins sit there with their legs crossed in position from each other. They are dressed down in silk blouses and black leather pants. Their sexuality there on display pouring blood from a large label-less bottle tinted green.

"I am Joshua! Welcome to the backdoor bang. Judging your boyfriends expression he never been here before or been anywhere like living a den..." He says examining Alex before lighting up a cigarette.

"Oh no he isn't a boyfriend, but why do you say?" Dawn says laughing taking a seat.

"My name is Alan and lately we just get horny groupie girls. It's nice to see an actual fellow vampire want to drink with us."

"No one suspects?" Alex asks. Alan lights his bong reclining back.

"We pay them off. They don't care about us or the show plus we get ton of girls who would volunteer to give us blood anyways. The heat of the moment gets them off ya know?" Joshua replies proud. "But we will never turn them. No matter how much they beat on me. Their yells of disappointment often echo late into the morning when we tell them, but no one hears their pains."

"Share a drink with us!" Alan says giving them wine glasses. Alex pushes his glass away. Dawn gladly accepts. "Come on...it's not every day or is there another reason?"

"N-nothing is wrong. I just am not feeling it." Alex almost stutters. Joshua gets up touching his face.

"Those black rings tell me otherwise. You had been starving yourself, but most likely only a couple days at most."

"There is something you don't want to talk about?" Dawn questions never noticing.

"Hey I am not judging, but most vampires go into a rage by default without it."

"I am sorry; I can't be here at the moment. Thank you for the hospitality. Good day Dawn." With that Alex makes his way out the door to get a breath of fresh air. He walks around to sit at the tables further away from the crazy club in front a local bar and radio DJ station.

Not drinking blood has made him feel weak, he could practically see a female tourists veins. Her sweet smell enticing as a flower in the full bloom in the noon sun, she walks away when someone practically knocks him over.

"Clarence! Put the bottle down already!" Steel shouts pissed.

"Steel!" Alex stands up catching Clarence drunk off his ass. He settles down. His head tips forward. He drops the wine smashing the bottle against the hard cement.

"He has been getting drunk like a mad man throwing him off his straight game. The prey isn't even hard prey. Girls are easily swayed for well-dressed onlookers."

"Let's bring him back to the hotel."

A crowd screams, the cherry picker knocks on to its side wrecking expensive equipment along the way. A couple people are pinned under the cherry picker. The DJ seems to be breathing on the ground. People are frantically on their cells calling for 911.

"We need to get back now. We shouldn't interfere in human affairs plus you are in no condition to help them yourself."

They drive back to the hotel. Getting inside it seems they are all alone. Mars, Christian and Alice seem to be out still. Steel loosens Clarence's tie tossing it on the floor with his gloves and setting his jacket on the chair.

Steel sits down in the chair beside Clarence. "Look Alex we need to talk about this food avoidance problem."

"Steel...please."

"No, I need you to talk to me. What can I do for you? You can't keep it up forever."

She hands him a small vial. Alex looks up at her not wanting to deal with this subject. He opens the vial shaking downing a small amount before it comes back up making him run to the sink. Steel pats his back sympathetic.

"Edwin and Joseph did really horrible things to you did they?"

His eyes began to tear up as he lifts his facing the mirror. "I want to forget...I just need time Steel. Hopefully it clears up soon. I will drink soon I promise, but please don't force me anymore." Alex bows his head over the sink.

"Don't overdo it. We need to meet people in a couple days' time. Stay healthy Alex..."

Clarence stumbles over to the bathroom. "I-I am o-only a little drunk Steel my love..." before throwing up everything in his stomach on the floor. Steels dress now covered in throw up and blood.

"You bastard, this is one of my favorite dresses!" She says pulling him over the toilet seat pulling back his hair. Alex helps hold up Clarence. Mars, Christian and Alice come back plopping down on the beds.

Alice walks over to help Steel with Clarence who is evidently very drunk back to his bed. He will continue to sleep deep through the night and most of the day to recover.

Day two and takes Clarence almost all day to recover. He wakes up being forced into shower and brushing teeth to clean up. He irons his blazer and makes sure his white gloves are pressed to perfection. His pants have to be cleaned; he has to change his shirt under causing him a bit of panic.

"You are such a neat freak for someone who got that shit faced last night." Christian laughs while he irons out wrinkles.

"Don't make fun of me. I need to be dressed and ready to go. My suit is my whole personality. It is my intimidation tactic."

A knock on the door has Alex look first. He notes it is Dawn again. "Looks like my nightly activity has arrived so looks like I will be out a little. Don't wait for me!" Alex says nervously squeezing the door.

This time he takes her hand running down the corridors and down the elevator. He huffs after they get far. "I wanted to say sorry about before..."

"Nothing to be sorry about, I just have a lot going on in my mind."

They walk together just catching till she stops. "Look...I have something you tell you."

Alex pushes her out of the way throwing himself in front of the arrow. He cries out, a man comes from the shadows. "I am guessing you mean this is what you wanted to warn about..."

The man dressed in olive green shirt with leather jacket and dusty jeans. Forcefully takes the arrow out. Dawn gets in front with her hands out. "Darren, I thought we discussed you need to stop aiming it recklessly."

"Oh I see..."He said pacing around Alex. "She hasn't told you has she?"

"He needs help you jackass! Can't this wait another time?"

"No, that arrow was edged blade so he is probably going to die if he bleeds anymore, but at least he will know."

"Know..what?" Alex grunts on the ground leaning against Dawn holds his arm where the bladed arrow unwillingly was taken.

"She is labeled a traitor." He said aiming another arrow into his leg. "She killed pappy, his ashy corpse a symbol of our operation not too long from here."

"Darren...stop please..."

"Stop what? You almost got him when he went into the backdoor bang session, but he decided to leave."

"Wait...that was a rigged operation then, you and Dawn...I..." Alex gets up with a severe limp.

"But we can no longer let you leave because we have told you about the rig. Why do you think it's not common for vampire to go to backdoor bangs?"

Alex darts for it even though his chances small he would survive. "I will not be held captive again. I would much rather die."

Darren launches another arrow into his back sending him to the ground. "That explains a lot."

Another arrow is fired and caught. "And here I thought fang hunters were only a legend." Clarence states holding the arrow between his fingers, walking forward he grabs hold of Alex.

"How long were you standing there?"

"I just got here. What do kids call it these days? Spidey senses?" His clear his voice with a smile. Dawn hides behind Darren. "But I know enough that you are Alex's old clan mate..."

"You aren't a normal vampire..."

"No I am not. What do you plan to do about it?"

Clarence walks away slowly with Alex limped over his shoulders. Instead of acting out Darren stays in position, Dawn tries to walk behind. Clarence throws his hand out holding a calling card and letting it drift to the ground.

They get back into the door. "Why are you out without Steel?" Alex asks in pain.

"We had a fight. She went with the rest bar hopping. Stop asking me stupid questions! I should be asking why you were alone and with a fang hunter!"

He rips the arrows out and scissors away his clothes allowing for a temporary dressing. Clarence hands Alex two vials of blood after he gets dressed in new top and bottom. "Lately you been acting stubborn, but this no time for that. Blood will help you heal faster."

He downs them immediately holding his mouth so he doesn't throw up allowing it to go down he can feel come back up through his throat, before long everyone is getting back through the door when he throws it up passing out.

Steel runs to Alex. "Why is he covered in bandages?"

"We need to cancel the plans for the meet. This town is full of fang hunters. Alex was lured by a bait vampire..." Clarence explains. Alex lifts his hand.

"I am not out of it. It was just a second...my old clan member killed Pappy."

He gets up leaning into the wall. Alice touches his shoulders lightly. "At least you learned who it was..."

"I have to face Dawn and the fang hunter before this is all over. I suggest everyone pack their stuff." Alex shouts. "We will find a lower standing motel further in the meantime."

"You won't be alone this time. We are all in this together." Clarence confides.

"After what happened we all know you are having a hard time dealing with some issues Alex...you don't have to hide them anymore..." Christian softly replies.

Alex turns around to face them. "I am your mentor Alex! I would never let something get worse well worse than the last situation..."

Mars starts to pack everything up. "I will be your drive. I have not really activated my serpent entity, but more than willing to do my part."

"I have an idea where the ashes are...but now they know of us...they aren't going to play pretty." Alex hobbles over to his phone.

"You nearly got killed. You can barely move! What do you plan to do?" Clarence asks confused.

"That's why I am bait...but you have to trust me."

They packed up making their way to the location Alex pinned as Pappy's place of death. Holding his book on his lap, when they make to the forest edge Alex waves Mars on away from the location.

He staggers to the location. The ground a char black mark in the grass, but the ash long since has been done with rain. "Even when wounded you still tried to find it." Alan says laughing from high in to the treetops.

Joshua and Alan block his way to move. They know he can't run far. "We already know you were picked next in line for vampire leader." Darren states. He slowly walks in holding Dawn with his hands around her neck.

"I already knew you would come. I decided to settle it my way. A single vampire is fruitless. Intimidation depends on sexiness and sometimes on looks even were just cute. I realized I have none of these so I need to rely on my wits." Alex responds pointing at his head. "Plus I came to save Dawn."

A tire wrench hits Alan in the back of the head knocking him out. Clarence comes from behind like the suave man he is. Grasping Joshua's neck from behind, Steel's steel traps are now visible locking them all in.

"Why would you want to save a traitor?" Joshua asks kneeling in front of Alan.

"Everyone deserves a second chance Joshua...vampires of offspring of the sinned of Lilith therefore we bare her cross. Humans are sins of their God. Dawn deserves freedom..."

Alex explains, his flashbacks of how he could kill Edwin and Joseph, but their deeds were mis-understood. They deserved their own happiness despite his suffering.

"You act as though hunting vampire for their fangs is any better." Clarence replies.

Steel positions herself behind Darren bringing her steel strings to his neck till he lets go of Dawn. He activates the crossbow with the customized steak firing into Dawns back. He loads another from his position going clear through her chest.

She reaches for Alex from the ground before her body slowly forms to ash. "Dawn..." He becomes enraged pushing his way to Darren breaking the steel string completely knocking over Steel from her trap unwinding the arena tossing Christian from a nearby tree.

His elongated nails digging into Darren's throat, about to slash his stomach open Steel gets in front taking the hit. His nails sink into her chest. "Remember your humanity, that's what you taught me..."

He snaps out of it catching Steel who loses consciousness. Clarence kicks Darren down making him drop his weapon. Alan and Joshua seem to back on their feet. "You must feel so proud being baiters..."

Christian and Clarence make their way to the car fast after Alex signals. From the distance Alex watches Dawns body's ashes catch to the wind. His vision fades.

He wakes up in Steels house and walks to the med bay. "Clarence...how is Steel?"

"Steel is fine. You didn't dig too deeply. She has been receiving full care so she will be okay." Clarence says happily.

"I don't know what came over me."

"Grief...grief came over you and that is okay. Killing the fang hunter would not have brought Dawn back. Steel was right to intervene."

"Yeah...while Steel is healing Christian and Alice need to settle last humanely affairs back in their town then we will back here. Please take care of Mars till were back. It shouldn't be long."

"No worries, it about time they realize this is their life now..."

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#original story #vampire #drama #death #love

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