#and I haven’t had to cope with something like this but after this weekend I prommy to be normal

[smokedbeans]

Sorry for live-blogging my family drama do you still think I’m hot

[jexnkookie]

The Law of Attraction (Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader) [Part 3]

Story Synopsis: Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

Story Rating: M (18+) [Language, sex, depression, alcoholism]

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Characters/Pairings: Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader)

Chapter Word Count: 2.8k

Authors Note: I've been at home with not much to do today, so I decided to add the third chapter for you all before the weekend ends. Once again, thank you all for the kind words and taking the time to read this story. I've also decided to start a tag list, after being asked for it, so if you'd like to be included in that, please just let me know! x

Taglist: @khadeeeeej

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Series Masterlist

The warm, morning sun peeked through the opening of the drawn curtains in your hotel bedroom, covering everything in a glowing light. Your mind slowly awoke, piecing together where you were, and what happened last night. You smiled at the thought, and reached out for your fianc�� to hold him. But the side of the bed that was supposed to be his was cold and empty, making you open your eyes and furrow your brows. 

You got up slowly, walked out into the living room portion of your suite, and your eyes widened at the bottles of alcohol lining the coffee table. Jimin was there, passed out on the sofa, in a way you haven’t seen in a very long time. It made your chest ache for him, knowing he was slipping back into himself. 

“Honey?” You called out to no response. You walked over and kneeled down beside him, brushing his soft, blonde locks from his beautiful face. “Jimin…” 

He murmured something under his breath but refused to open his eyes, and moments later, he was back asleep as his body clearly tried to fight off the elevated alcohol levels in his system. You felt your eyes begin to tear up at the man in front of you, confused as to what could’ve sent him spiraling backwards. 

“You promised me you wouldn’t do this again, baby.” You whispered through spilling tears, knowing from experience that it was useless. He can’t hear you in his state. “You fucking promised me, Jimin… I-I can’t be around you right now, my love, I’m so sorry.” 

With that, you stormed into the bedroom and slid into a quick pair of leggings and a sweatshirt from your suitcase, grabbing your designer bag and phone. You began heading towards the door, but paused, looking back to the man you loved so, incredibly deeply. Not knowing what else to do to, you made your decision to look away from the heartbreaking disaster in front of you. You headed out the door, down the hall, and slipped quickly into the elevator to take you out of the building. 

The streets were busy, despite it being so early on a weekend morning. You loved the bustle of the city, as it offered a pleasant distraction. Watching people as you passed each other, you could easily slip into their life through your imagination. What job did they work? Were they single, or with someone? What did they like to eat? Did they have children? You could imagine it all, pretending to be somebody else in your mind, if only for a brief time. It was a coping strategy you learned as a girl, when you wanted to escape your own life, and the irony of it was never lost on you. You weren’t foolish, you saw the way people eyed your designer clothing, and you knew they must wonder what your life was like. They would never really knew that you would trade it all in for theirs, if it meant having a life that was just a little less complicated. 

Lost in thought, you had wandered several blocks down from your apartment, just exploring the beautiful neighborhood. You stumbled upon a homey-feeling American diner, with large windows on side, looking somewhat out of place built into the bottom floor of a large, very modern skyscraper. You could see in from where you stood across the street, and watched the staff bring coffee and delicious looking breakfast to each guest. The crosswalk light signaled green, so you began walking towards the restaurant, deciding to grab a bite to eat to clear your head. Maybe I could grab some yummy food for Jimin too, you thought, and talk things over while he sobers up. 

You entered through the front door, and the attached bell rang to alert the staff of a new customer.

“Good morning!” A sweet, red headed waitress with an apron tied around her waist called out in a sing-song voice from behind the counter. “Sit anywhere, I’ll bring you a menu!” 

“Thank you!” You responded, looking around for a place to sit. It seemed as though the place was a packed house, with every booth being taken. 

But there, in the back corner, you spotted a familiar face. Or, what you could catch of his face, as it was buried in his menu, with wide, boyish eyes looking over each option. You were thankful to see him, thinking it an intervention of some sort to keep you from having to be completely alone with your thoughts.

“Excuse me,” You walked over to the waitress who had greeted you. “That man in the corner there is a friend of mine, is he with someone?” 

“No ma’am.” She responded, shaking her head. “He likes to come in often and eat by himself.” 

“I think I’ll sit with him and surprise him, then. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t interrupting anything.” You smiled, which she returned. “Thank you.” 

You made your way over to him, with an unwavering grin on your face. When you arrived by his table, he still hadn’t looked up, lost on the seemingly endless food options on the menu. 

“Excuse me, is this seat taken? This place is so busy, I was wondering if I could join you?” 

Jung Kook’s eyes widened at the sound of that voice. The voice he would know anywhere, pleasant and gentle. 

“Y/N?” He responded, looking up at you. “What are you doing here? A-And of course, please, sit. Um, hi.” He mentally kicked himself for stuttering. Cool. He said sarcastically to himself. 

“Hi.” You giggled at his surprised and stumbling reaction. “I just decided to leave the hotel for a bit, and I spotted this place from across the street. It’s so popular, it must be delicious.” 

“Mhm, I come here sometimes and it’s always busy.” 

“Yeah? The waitress I talked to said she sees you in here often.” 

“O-oh… Yeah, I guess she probably does.” Jung Kook said shyly. 

You both made small talk over the food, the neighborhood and the local things to do that Jung Kook has discovered in his short time being here. While the conversation itself had little significance, happening over modest diner eggs, toast and coffee, the feeling Jung Kook had was indescribable. He never forgot, even after years of being apart, just how easy it is to have a conversation with you. The way you listen so intently, and keep your attention, as though nothing else in the world mattered. It made him feel so special and seen. Your voice was just as sugary as ever, and your giggles never changed, still able to make his heart race. He wanted to hear that laugh forever, and he wanted to be the man who made it happen. 

“Where’s Mr. Park this morning?” Jung Kook asks, suddenly noticing that you were alone. 

“Oh, Jimin?” You paused, hesitation not going unnoticed by the perceptive man sitting across from you. “He, um… He just wanted to sleep in. Jet lag and all that, y’know?” 

“Oh, right.” Jung Kook nodded, not wanting to dig deeper into your pregnant pause. It isn’t my business, he thought. “He seems like a great guy, by the way. You seem happy.” 

“Y-Yeah.” You stuttered, praying tears didn’t come to your eyes. “Jimin’s really amazing, he always has been. But um, what about you, Jung Kook? Are you seeing someone?” 

“No.” Jung Kook chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. “No, I uh… I broke off an engagement back in Korea before moving to the city.” 

“You were engaged?” You asked, making sure you heard him correctly. “I’m so sorry to hear that it didn’t work out.” 

Jung Kook paused, thinking back to the woman whose heart he broke, as he looked at the woman who he’s always truly loved. You’re the reason I couldn’t love her. He said internally, gazing at your face. 

“It’s ok. I just think she wasn’t the one for me.” 

“Yeah? It sounds like you believe that everyone has someone perfect out there, just for them.” You said with a smile, and Jung Kook looked at your face, adoring the way the morning sun attached itself to your skin, making you glow. “I think so, too.” 

“I’ve always believed that. Everyone deserves to find their happiness.” Jung Kook said, his tone shifting in a way you couldn’t quite place, but his chocolate brown eyes were delicate as he looked at you. He swallowed, his tone heavy yet genuine when he added, “I’m glad you and Jimin found each other.” 

Your lips parted, attempting to find words that weren’t there. So you just nodded and offered a polite smile. The silence was thankfully cut short by the waitress, who brought your check. You went to reach for your wallet, but Jung Kook pulled his card out first and laid it onto the table. 

“Please, let me.” He said, his voice warm. “We’ll call it a thank you, for surprising me. I’m glad you did.” 

“Ok.” You grinned, unsure as to why your cheeks were heating up at his compliment. 

While you and Jung Kook were lost in your breakfast and conversation, Jimin had woken up to an empty hotel room. His head ached, but no worse than his chest did when he realized your absence. He had wanted to crawl into bed with you, hold you tight, and apologize for what he had done in the best way he knew how; cover your body with love, and spend the morning buried between your thighs as he pleasured you with kisses and soft, pressured licks.  But when the bed was empty, the panic set in. 

Quick thinking led him to go to his phone, and find your location, as you always shared your location with each other. He spotted your little dot on his phone at a diner, just a few blocks away, and Jimin felt a bit of comfort wash over him. She was just hungry. He thought, taking a deep breath. Let’s meet her there, she’ll be surprised. 

But what Jimin had not expected, was to see him there. The puppy-eyed lawyer sat across from you, and Jimin could tell even from across the street than the man held on to every word you said. Jimin knew that look well, because it’s how he looks at you, too. Jimin grits his teeth, and sends a quick text message to his main lawyer, Kim Namjoon. 

9:11 a.m: Something needs to be done about the new rookie on your team, because spending time alone with my fiancé is wildly inappropriate. See to it that this doesn’t happen again, or I will be finding new representation.  

9:12 a.m: *image attached* 

Jimin takes one last look at the scene in front of him, and goes back to the hotel room. He orders three more bottles, and passes out once again. 

——————————————————————————————————

On Monday morning, Jung Kook was feeling light. He entered his law firm building as he does every day; a freshly pressed black suit on, his dark hair neatly styled, and a cup of coffee in his hand. But this morning, he felt a bit happier, attributing it to a simple breakfast shared with you the weekend prior. He wished he could have breakfast with you every morning, but buried that thought, not daring to spoil his mood with fantasies. 

He sat down at his office desk, and began looking through his weekly calendar and emails. This week was the final week or preparation before the Park Jimin case truly begins, and Jung Kook was fully ready to explain to his mentor why he had told him last minute he needed to recuse himself. It would be the right, responsible thing to do, and it would give him space from you. As much as he wished he didn’t need it, he felt that he needed to move on. You found your happiness. It’s time to let you go. 

Namjoon entered Jung Kook’s office, and closed the door behind him. Jung Kook looked up at his face, which usually held a gentle, welcoming smile. This morning, however, Namjoon was clenching his jaw like a father who was trying not to explode on his son. 

“Jung Kook.” Namjoon said, his voice scarily calm. “I want… No, I need you to be honest with me. What is going on with you and Mr. Park’s fiancé?” 

“I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to.” Jung Kook answered professionally, causing Namjoon to roll his eyes. 

“For fuck’s sake, kid, drop the act.” Namjoon deep voice was almost a growl. “I’m going to lose out on a top client because you can’t keep your nose where it belongs.” 

“What-” Jung Kook was stopped by Namjoon throwing his phone down on his desk, a picture illuminating the screen. Jung Kook squinted at it, to see a photo of himself and you at the diner. 

“How did you get this photo?” Jung Kook asked, his heart sinking. 

“Mr. Park saw you. He’s furious.” Namjoon explained, pacing back and forth. “He called it ‘wildly inappropriate’, and threatened to find new representation if it happens again.” 

“Mr. Kim, I’m so sorry.” Jung Kook panicked. “Please understand, it’s a misunderstanding. Nothing happened, we was just-”

The office door knob turned, and a hush fell over the room. Jimin and yourself stood there at the door, hand in hand. Namjoon and Jimin locked eyes, and Namjoon could see that the client looked worse than he did just a few days prior. Dark, prominent circles were under his eyes, and his hair was slightly messier than before. Jung Kook noticed none of that, however, and stared directly at you. 

You were wearing dark sunglasses, with no thought to take them off despite being indoors. Your hair was seemingly brushed quickly, notably and uncharacteristically  not put together well. Your loose fitting clothes seemed carelessly thrown on, not styled perfectly in your usual fashion. You were quiet, head down, tightly holding Jimin’s hand and appeared to make yourself smaller, like you wanted to vanish into thin air. Jung Kook wanted so desperately to bring you in and hold you, shield you from whatever it was that made you look so tired, in such a short amount of time. 

“Mr. Park.” Namjoon greeted. “Good morning.” 

“Good morning.” Jimin responded, his throat sounding hoarse. “I came to fill out any paperwork, and tie up loose ends before we meet again next week.” 

“Of course, I was just talking with Mr. Jeon. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

“Mr. Jeon,” Jimin called out, his voice weak. “Mr. Kim informed me you were recusing yourself from my legal team for this case. I just wanted to thank you, for the work you’ve done.” 

“Y-You’re welcome, Mr. Park.” Jung Kook said, confused with the kind words. This wasn’t the furious tone that Namjoon had described. 

“My love,” Jimin turned to you, his voice extra soft and delicate. “Will you go with Mr. Kim to his office, please? I’ll be there soon, I just wanted to speak to Mr. Jeon privately about the case before he leaves us. I had some questions.” 

“Ok.” You said, your voice almost a whisper. Jimin squeezes your hand and kisses the top of your head before turning to Namjoon, who nods in understanding. 

“Right this way, Ms. Y/L/N.” Namjoon says gently, leading you out of the office. 

When you are out of sight, Jimin turns to you. The fury Namjoon spoke about is now prominent in his eyes, leading Jung Kook to realize that your presence is the thin defense that keeps his anger at bay. 

“Jeon Jung Kook.” Jimin spat. “I don’t know where you get off, eyeing up my fiancé in some cheap diner, but if I ever catch you sniffing around her again, I’ll ruin you. Do you understand me?” 

“Mr. Park, I never meant to offend you.” Jung Kook said. “Nothing happened. We just bumped into each other.” 

“I don’t want excuses, or explanations from you.” Jimin rolled his eyes. “I’m not a fucking idiot Mr. Jeon, I see the way you look at her. I’m warning you, to watch yourself. You’re from Busan, correct?” 

“Yes, Mr. Park.” 

“Then you know who I am, and who my father is.” Jimin’s voice was dripping in anger. “I will personally see to it that you never represent anyone in our city, or this city again, if you come near her. That’s a promise.” 

Jung Kook felt suffocated under the weight of the air and the weight of Jimin’s glare. Even in his disheveled state, his blonde locks dropping to his face couldn’t cover the anger in his eyes. Jimin stormed out of his office, slamming the door behind him, causing other office workers to startle and look into his room. Jung Kook buried his head in his hands, unsure as to what the right path to move forward is. 

[tieronecrush]

꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter four: i can see you

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 9.6k

a/n: this chapter is A LOTTTT of filth and as always thank you to bestie @northernbluess for beta-ing <333 love ya!

It’s the first class after Javi had you on your knees in front of him, the rest of the weekend was spent circling back to that image and having to take a cold shower or adjust himself in his jeans when he met up with some old friends from his days as a sheriff. The other thoughts that alternated from the image of you on your knees, soft and supple lips around his cock, was his view from between your legs, pleasure contorting your face and pulling you to a place where you fully let him give your body the treatment it deserves. There’s a phantom feeling of your come all over his face, the visual of you squirting for him bringing him to the edge when he spent Sunday night with his hand around his cock.

What would you feel like, writhing underneath him and making all those sweet little sounds he’s been replaying over and over in his head, while he gives you his cock over and over until you’re screaming?

You were now a craving that couldn’t be satiated; even if he had your mouth again, even if he got another taste of you, even if he got the chance to fuck you properly, it wouldn’t ever be enough. He’s always going to want one more orgasm, one more little moan of his name, one more time spilling into you and watching you take it wherever.

This is why he is buzzing as he walks through the halls to the lecture room, stalking up to the door and peeking through the small window. A glimpse of the back of your head sends a hot rush of his blood south, rolling out his shoulders and taking a breath to calm down. He languidly makes his way down the stairs at the end of the rows of seating, slowing his pace even more when he starts to reach the row you’re occupying. The sound of your voice rises above all the other students in his ears, and he bites back a smile as he’s reminded of the short phone call from the evening prior.

“Will you draw something else for me, bebita?”

“I can but that means I won’t be paying too much attention in class, Professor Peña.”

“Eh, doesn’t matter so much. Can just fill you in when I see you next. Call it private tutoring…” He grinned when he heard you laugh on the other side of the line, feeling like a schoolboy crushing hard. Javi was sitting on his couch, laying back and listening to you, trying to ask questions that gave long-winded answers so he could listen to your voice. “D’you have any other hobbies, bebita?”

“Hm, I mean, I guess so. Haven’t had a lot of time to do much these days cause of school. But I’ll sound like a grandma if I tell you about all those so let’s leave it at I like to doodle in your class.”

“No, no, I wanna hear about it all. What else is there besides drawing?”

“Well, um, I like embroidery. Like those pieces of fabric in the ring with designs on them? Those are fun to make when I’m watching TV or a film. Helps me focus, I guess. Actually, a lot of my hobbies are just things that help me focus so maybe I have a bit of an attention problem—”

“Don’t seem to have an issue paying attention to me, cariño.”

“Yeah, but you’re a distraction in and of yourself. I can barely pay attention to anything you’re saying during lecture cause I’m just looking at you, which is why I had to start doodling to have something to help me focus.”

“I see. Alright, so drawing and embroidery, anything else you like to do?”

“I guess anything I can make really. I find new mediums that look fun to do, buy all the supplies, and do it once, and then don’t touch it again.” You laughed again and Javi smiled and shook his head.

“Well, how about you make me something from all those different things? I want some Angel originals, hermosa. Show off how much I like art.”

“Javi, you’ve got no clue about anything to do with art.”

“Yeah, but I would know they’re yours. That would make them the best.”

It was silent for a moment, Javi awaited your answer to his loosely termed commission.

“Alright, deal.”

When he comes back into the lecture hall from his trailing thoughts, the student next to you is speaking, trying and failing to keep her voice at a low enough volume for Javier not to hear her.

“I heard that Professor Peña used to not be the most ethical when he was in the DEA…like slept with prostitutes to get information. Can’t even imagine the shit he must’ve caught there,” she says as if it’s the juiciest information she’s been told, likely wanting someone else besides you to overhear and question it.

You scoff at the girl sitting near you, rolling your eyes before your brow creases slightly in disapproval, “Y’know, you really shouldn’t be making assumptions about people based on campus rumors. And even if he did do that, he clearly did something right cause he stopped all of those criminals, and probably helped the women too. A lot of people talk to be able to get other opportunities.”

Anger flashes in your chest, burning red like heated iron to brand your heart with Javi’s likeness.

No, no feelings. Nothing more than what you have going on with him, no getting any more attached and making it messy.

But how can people just say shit like that? Without any care that the person they’re talking about is in the room, likely overhearing everything?

Javier doesn’t deserve the treatment. He’s so caring, and intelligent, and giving, and—No. No more.

You’re drifting back and forth between frustrations and telling yourself to calm down for the rest of class, and it’s clear on your face to Javier. He overheard everything, especially your quick defense of him. He knows the extra meaning behind your words, or at least hopes that there’s something else there — maybe a bit of his infatuation or school-age crush reciprocated. Eyes stay glancing over at you throughout his lecture and discussion, no comments or questions from you as you hurriedly take notes or scribble out something in the margins of your paper.

Fingers twitch at the sight of your tense shoulders, creased brow, and avoidant eyes. He so badly wants to walk right over, kiss you to release all of the pent-up frustration, and thank you for your defense. What he would give to be able to sit right next to you, huddle together in your own world like in the booth at the bar over the weekend.

He doesn’t get to catch you before you jump up at the end of class that day, quickly leaving after getting dirty looks from your seatmate. Javier is tempted to call the other student down to speak to him, but that feels a step too far, so he quells down the need to protect you and moves on for the day.

It isn’t until the second meeting of the week that he finally gets to see you again, his calls going to voicemail for the two nights following that day. He’s in the hallway, speaking with another professor within the department when you come down the corridor, a sweet autumnal plaid mini dress on with a cardigan over it. He licks his lips at the sight of your thighs covered with translucent black tights that tuck under the ankle of your Dr. Marten boots.

The other man’s voice slowly fades out as Javier focuses on you, attempting and failing to steal his gaze away as you walk past him. Eyes lock with a teasing knowing behind yours, the corners of your lips twitching up as you laugh to yourself that he looks like a dog to a bone.

“Hi, Professor Peña and it’s nice to see you again, Professor Quinn,” you slow down on the other side of the two men, Professor Quinn returning your smile and waving you over for a conversation.

“So lovely to see you again! Lizzy has been asking about you, she misses her favorite babysitter. How have you been? Are you in one of Professor Peña’s classes?” Professor Quinn looks between the two of you, friendly small talk coated with tension that only you and Javier can feel. The secret you share licks flames in your gut, stirring an excitement that you know so much more about him than other students, than his coworkers, than most people. That excitement has anxiety constricting in your chest briefly, afraid of what might happen if you allowed yourself to feel any claim over Javi.

Don’t get so attached. It’s work, a job, and there are other men on your schedule. No one else is like Javi, but canceling on anyone else to spend more time with him is too close to blurring the lines.

Javier looks at you, his heart in his throat as he is the recipient of one of those smiles from you, the one that had him crushing from the first sight of it and the same one he can’t get out of his head when you’re apart. Before Professor Quinn feels the need to repeat his question, Javier clears his throat and nods curtly.

“Yeah, my first graduate-level course. Got to get to the lecture in about five minutes actually.” Javier steps to leave but you hold up a hand.

“Oh, sorry, Professor Peña, but do you mind waiting one moment? I’d like to talk to you about the upcoming assignment on the way to the lecture hall.” Javi has a burning need to say he’ll talk to you after class, to cover any suspicions of his colleague from the prolonged eye contact between the two of you, but he can never deny those eyes of yours — and you seem to know that fact already.

He waits to the side while you quickly finish your conversation with Professor Quinn, who taught you during your undergraduate years and whose daughter you babysat for date nights during the school year and nannied over the summers you stayed in San Antonio.

There’s a flash of jealousy in Javier’s chest, no logic behind it, but he can’t help but feel like he wants to be the only one to know you as a student and outside of class. It’s silly, especially because this relationship is completely innocent, but he can’t stop the feeling from rushing over like a wave.

With a smile, one that he convinces himself isn’t quite like the ones you give him, you say goodbye to your former instructor and turn to Javier. Closing the gap to catch up with him, you start to walk side by side, appropriately inches apart despite the surge of wanting that trails down your left side and his right.

“So what did you want to talk to me about? The upcoming assignment? Is it the midterm research paper?” Javier maintains his professionalism, only glancing at you a few times while his mouth waters at the sight of exposed skin at your collarbone and the scent of your sweet perfume.

“Actually, I kind of just said that…” your voice goes to a lower volume, but still audible to him, “I was hoping that you’d maybe have some appointments left for your office hours? Maybe for a little tutoring session? I have my Spanish midterm coming up soon.”

Javi bites back his smirk, shaking his head to himself at your coded questions. Slowing to a stop in front of the door to the classroom, he turns to you, his boots clicking on the linoleum tiles as he rests a hand on his hip to consider.

“You can have the last one for today,” his voice drops to a low, hushed rasp as you lean in ever so slightly to hear him better, “Y’know, been missin’ you these last few days, bebita. Better have a good excuse.”

He punctuates the statement with a wink and a smirk, a teasing lilt obvious in his voice. A strong hand engulfs the door handle before you can reach for it, opening it and nodding for you to step in ahead of him.

“Ladies first,” he reminds, licking his lips as you look up at him with a quick, whispered reply.

“Think you know I’m not always a lady, Javier.”

He can’t stop watching you the whole class. He knows it’s an issue, that surely it’s obvious at points of the entire hour-and-a-half lecture. He knows that you notice his stare, quick flicks of eye contact, and subtle winks sent his way as the corners of your lips curl up in a smirk.

All he can think about is getting you alone — finally alone again — and teaching you a thing or two, like you requested, of course.

When he glances at you next, you’re staring down at your notebook, oblivious to his attention; the end of your pen is tapping against your bottom lip, your brows knitting together in what looks like confusion while reviewing your written notes. Javier watches as you slip the end of your pen between your lips, licking his own while he sees them pillow against the plastic utensil. The gloss swiped across them shines in the fluorescent lights, and with a flash of the image of your lips around him a couple of weekends ago, his trousers tighten and his mouth dries out.

You look up from your desk to meet his gaze, sharing a knowing smile before he stutters out the next point of his lecture. Clearing his throat, he shakes his head to himself and peels his eyes away from you, keeping them away for the rest of the session to attempt to calm down before he has to walk out in front of all the students with a bulge in his tight trousers.

At the end of class, he announces that he’ll be rescheduling his office hours to this afternoon, to start shortly after he releases everyone for the session. You quickly catch his eyes, the corner of his mouth ticking up with a subtle smirk and a quick wink while the rest of the students pack up their things. Some linger to ask quick questions, but you’re out the door before he can grab your attention again, his eager stance deflating. He wanted you to stay, to talk to you before sitting through all his other office hour appointments before he’s able to see you.

It’s about an hour of talking through fifteen-minute appointments with other students, both graduate and undergraduate, about their upcoming midterm assignments or exams for his courses. He can’t help but roll his eyes each time these students ask for extra credit or make-up notes for the classes that they have missed — most of these kids haven’t bothered to show up since syllabus week. The clock to the left of the door ticks away, and he sweeps up the conversation with the sophomore sitting across his desk once fifteen minutes exactly hit, ushering him out the door and promising another meeting before the midterm, but that he has another appointment to get to.

Taking a breath once the student is heading down the hallway, he combs his eyes around the area outside of his office, his attention being pulled to quick footsteps down the corridor. His eyes take in Dr. Martens, slightly beat up and well-worn, black sheer tights snaking up your legs to the mid-thigh hem of your skirt. Trailing up your dress to the exposed skin at your collarbone, Javi licks his lips.

“Sorry, I’m a little late, Professor Peña. Rushed over here when I realized what time it was sitting in the library,” you apologize, a soft smile on your face holding back the playful glint in your eyes.

“No problem, the last student ran a bit over his appointment time. Please, c’mon in.” Javier gestures for you to walk ahead of him into the open door of his office, watching you glance around the space as he shuts the door behind him. At the click of the handle into place, Javi strides over to you and grabs at your hips, leaning down to catch your lips in a heated and rushed kiss.

His larger frame looms over you, your hands finding his shoulders as your body relaxes into his grip. Javi guides you backward to his desk and around it, pressing you up against the edge of the wood.

“Fuck, bebita, jus’ couldn’t take my eyes off of you the whole fucking day. Look so sweet in your dress. Wanted to rip it off you and take you right there. Let everyone know whose girl you are,” he rasps against your lips, dragging his own along your jaw and working a love bite underneath your ear. A whimper pulls from your throat, leaning your head back for easier access as you squeeze your thighs together.

“Bet you’d like that, huh?” The smirk in his voice is evident, cockiness coating his words as he asks the rhetorical question. “Mi zorrita (My little slut) wants everyone to know who makes her feel so good, doesn’t she?”

“Y-Yes, I want everyone to know that it’s you…” you sigh out when Javier’s lips suck at your collarbone, hunched over you while his bulge presses into your thigh.

“You’d do that if I asked, like a good girl. But you’re all mine, bebita. Don’t want anyone else having you like I do.”

Guilt burns in your chest when he says that; you know he isn’t seeing anyone else, he’s said as much. You’ve dodged the question, avoiding the confrontation of telling him he’s one of a few because then you’d have to explain how he isn’t one of the few — how something with him is different, deeper, makes you long for him when he’s away.

And confessing all of that makes your stomach turn.

Instead of responding with words, your hand curls into his hair, the other resting against his chest and pulling him back up to your face. Kissing him hurriedly, you take the moment of distraction to push him back and down into his desk chair. You fold over him, keeping your lips attached to his and sighing when you feel a rumble of a moan from him when your hand at his chest drops down to palm him through his pants.

“Y’know, you asked for a Spanish lesson, bebita. D’you still want to learn something?” Javier asks, his head pulled back to rest against the seat back. You give him a ‘yes’, kneeling in front of his seat and scraping your nails against his strong thighs.

“Eres mío? Eres mi buena chica? Qué vas a hacer por mí? (Are you mine? Are you my good girl? What are you gonna do for me?)” Javier brushes his fingers against your cheek as he looks down at you. You take a beat to translate his questions in your head, a smirk growing on your face while you unbuckle his belt and undo his button and zipper on his trousers.

“Te voy a hacer sentir bien. (I’m going to make you feel good).” Javier grins down at you when you answer, sighing in relief when you pull his dick out from his boxers. His hand is still at your face, eyes darkening when you look at him.

“Una chica tan lista. My smart girl,” he exhales the last syllable when you swipe your tongue up the underside of his cock, his fingers running against your hair and moving to the back of your head. “Ahora chupa, mi zorrita. (Now suck, my little slut.) Show me what you can do.”

Following his instructions, you take Javi into your mouth, teasing the head of his cock with your tongue. Your hand wraps around the base of him, slowly stroking as you feed more of him into your mouth, all the way until he hits the back of your throat.

Exhaling out of your nose, you take a moment before starting to bob your head in time with your hand. The sounds coming from Javi sitting over you are delicious, the actions and the noises making your saliva drip from the corners of your lips and down his shaft, squelching with the motions of your hand. The hand of his at the back of your head starts to guide you, pushing you down an inch further to press the tip of him into your throat.

“Fuck, bebita, taking my cock so fucking well. Such a good girl for me, my dirty girl.” You hum in acknowledgment and squeeze your thighs together, readying yourself to deepthroat him when there’s a sharp knock on his office door. Javi’s hand holds your head still, looking down at you and whispering expletives as he glances around the room. The knob starts to turn when he calls out, “One sec!”

You pull off of him and open your mouth to whisper, but Javi shakes his head and holds his index finger up to his lips.

“Quiet, baby. There’s nowhere else for you to go, jus’ get under the desk and I’ll get rid of whoever it is quick, okay?”

You nod and crawl into the alcove of his desk, sitting on your knees with your back to the panel that hides you from the rest of the room. Javier wheels his desk chair closer to the desk, his legs on either side of you trapping you in. Eye-level with his still aching cock, your mouth waters, and breath hitches when the door finally opens and a voice comes booming in.

“Javier! Agent Peña! Big Man on Campus! How the heck are ya?” Dean Banks greets Javi with a laugh, striding into his office confidently. He rolls his eyes at the Dean, clearing his throat and scooting one leg closer to you under the desk.

“Dean Banks, nice to see you. I’m fine, how are you?” The polite conversation sparks an idea in your head to distract Javier, licking your lip and leaning in closer. You blow a warm breath over his cock, watching it twitch with the sensation and making Javier’s leg jolt.

“I’m doing great — we’ve gotten some glowing midterm reviews for your courses so I thought I would stop by to give you the good news! And to check in and see how you’re doing with the first full semester you’ve had here so far.” Dean Banks wanders around his office, staying in front of the desk as he pokes at all the books on the shelves lining the walls. “Haven’t gotten mixed up into, uh, those extraneous circumstances we discussed have you?”

Javier opens his mouth to answer at the same time you take him back between your lips, plunging your head down to take half of him in one quick go. The words catch in his throat and he quickly clears it to cover up the noise.

“No, absolutely not, sir. Been focused on, uh, teaching and setting all of my students up for—success. I was just finishing up with my office hours before you walked in.” Javier’s hand searches for you under the desk to pull you away, but you grip both of his hands in your position of power, holding them down as you continue to suck his dick hidden away from view.

“Hm, didn’t see any students walking out in the hallway or out of your office. Must have missed them.” Dean Banks turns his back to Javier and he glances down at his lap to look at you with a glare, mouthing ‘Knock it off’.

In an act of defiance, you take full advantage of the dynamic to make eye contact with him before taking his cock in its entirety down your throat. You gag around it and Javier coughs and groans out of a sudden reaction. The Dean turns around quickly, a puzzled look on his face.

“Y’alright there, Peña?”

Javier nods quickly, wiping the subtle sweat built up by nerves on his forehead and takes a deep breath while you continually take him deep in your throat and move your head up and down his length.

“Yeah, yeah. Just got a, uh, a….headache.”

The Dean nods and claps his hands together, walking toward the door, “Well I won’t keep you for any longer then, better get home and get some rest. Glad to hear there are no issues with your new course. Chat soon, Big Man.”

Javier rolls his eyes again at the Dean’s back when he exits and pulls the door closed behind him. It’s another beat before the coast is clear enough and Javier wheels his chair back, you walking on your knees to keep him in your mouth. His chest is breathing deep, looking up at him through your lashes. Unimpressed anger is painted across his face, a stern shake of his head before his voice comes out low and intimidating, making your thighs squeeze together to feel your panties cling to your wetness.

“Thought that was funny, bebita? Doing that while we had company? Pequeña mocosa. (Little brat.)” Javier ticks his tongue in his mouth and pulls you off of his cock, strings of spit connecting you to his still-aching cock. “Y’know, I should just bend you right over this desk and fuck you full of me, so you have to walk around all day with me dripping out of you. How’s that sound for payback, huh?”

Your mind is reeling with the thought of him fucking you against his desk, a whimper sounding in your throat and your thighs rubbing together for any bit of relief. A hand of yours moves to go between your legs, desperate to touch yourself, but Javier quickly grabs it, hooking your other hand with his larger one and bringing them both above your head.

“Oh, but mi zorrita would like that though, wouldn’t she? Not much of a punishment. Guess I’ll just have to fuck your mouth and come down your throat then.”

He stands from his chair and kicks it away behind him, tugging you closer and to sit taller by your hands above your head. The unoccupied hand grips his cock at the base, positioning himself in front of your face, tapping the head of his cock against your plush bottom lip.

“Open, angel. If you’re gonna be a brat, una mocosa, m’gonna fuck you like one.”

No more protests are had from you, opening your mouth as wide as possible and humming around Javi when he slips into your mouth. He sighs, tilting his head back toward the ceiling with a quiet moan. After a second of being still, halfway filling your mouth, he looks down at you again and starts to thrust his hips — slowly and shallow at first before his patience snaps and he moves quicker and deeper.

His cock hits the back of your throat each time, a bruising pace making your core throb with a burning desire, imagining the same feeling but inside of your pussy. You moan around him, choking when he gets the deepest you’ve had him ever, gagging harshly and swallowing around him to attempt to recover.

Javier is blinded with pleasure, soft begs of your name repeatedly falling from his lips before he gives you another hard fuck to your throat, one last gag before he’s pulling back and spilling ropes of his come onto your tongue. He pulls out, the last few painted across your lips as he looks down at you, breathless while his chest heaves and drops your hands from his grip.

“Fuck, bebita, such a little fucking slut taking me like that.”

In the midst of your own recovery, you stick your tongue out to show him before swallowing his spend, coughing quietly. Javier quickly grabs a few tissues and sits in his desk chair, gingerly wiping off the evidence of his punishment from your face. It’s silent between you two while you watch him focus on the task, reaching a hand up to wrap your fingers around his wrist.

“M’sorry if I was too rough, angel. Caught a bit too caught up there…” he avoids your eyes, tossing aside the Kleenex and tucking himself back into his trousers.

“I liked it,” you confess, standing up from your knees and straddling his lap in his chair as you sit down. “Liked it a lot, actually. I wanna be that for you, like an escape. Turn your brain off, 'cause we both know you overthink everything.”

You run your fingers through his hair and he chuckles, nodding before he kisses you sweetly.

“Thank you, bebita. Such a good girl for me. So sweet,” he muses, giving you another kiss, “Now how about we actually learn some Spanish for your exam?”

The next week is spent either on the phone with Javi in the evenings, when you’ve returned home from any other dates scheduled, or out with him, finding hole-in-the-wall bars and restaurants to avoid any eyes from around campus. Each time you see his name on your caller ID, or see his truck pull up outside of your apartment complex to pick you up, your heart starts with a quickened pulse, dopamine firing in your brain and giving you that stuck in lov—

No feelings. You remind yourself each time you get that serotonin increase, simply excusing it as you enjoy your time with him and the pleasure he eagerly gives you whenever you give to him.

It’s hard not to allow yourself to feel around him; Javi makes it so easy to indulge. Little moments like him calling the mechanic and getting the cost of your repairs brought down, driving you over to pick it up and paying for it himself to make sure they didn’t haggle anymore; ordering your favorite drink if he arrived at a bar or restaurant before you, or getting you something new that he thought you would enjoy; a hand on your back or waist or encompassing your own, guiding you without overpowering. Small gifts given; new books purchased when you’ve browsed bookstores he’s found for you, new favorite dresses or lingerie filling your closet that Javier claimed were as much gifts for himself as they were for you.

His care was ever present, not overwhelming until it came to the point that you thought about him and how much he was there, integrated into your life and habits and moments of joy.

Absolutely terrifying. But you couldn’t stop.

And he was feeling like he couldn’t stop either.

He didn’t know if he was overdoing it all with you, new to this sort of arrangement and its usual boundaries, but he hoped that the fact that you kept laughing and smiling, initiating kisses or more with him, that you were enjoying yourself as much as he was.

There were tiny snapshots where he caught himself thinking about, feeling more for you. When you sneak into his office on the days you have other classes, steal minutes with him before you have to go across campus or he has to go teach or to a department meeting. To-go cups of black coffee on your handful of morning dates at the weekend, a reminder that you made observations about him just as he was you. When you stood up for him, defended him when the other student was spreading rumors. Sure, they were true, and he’d told you as much, but to hear your subtle protectiveness was warming his long cold heart. 

He hadn’t felt like this before, and he never thought he would have the chance. Colombia had jaded him, hardened him to stone, but you were slowly chiseling away to reveal his moldable core, reshaping him into a person he knew before and at the same time, a person who was only becoming familiar these days.

Could this be love? If he didn’t know how you felt or where you stood? He never thought he was in love before, and this confirms those thoughts. Never has he felt like this, never has he been so clumsy and boyish in his relationship at times.

It’s a Thursday evening, and his classes for tomorrow are scheduled to have a break to give them more time to study for midterms. Fiddling with his phone in his hands, he wonders what you might be up to, going back and forth over whether or not to call.

Before he can think anymore, he’s finding your contact, brought straight to the top of the list when he changed the name to ‘Bebita’, and hits the green phone button.

The line rings a few times, cutting out with an answer and a rustle over the microphone before he hears your voice.

“Hi, Javi.” He can hear you sigh, sensing an edge of stress or impatience in your tone.

“Hey, bebita. You busy tonight? I wanna see you.”

“Oh, Javi, I don’t know if I can make tonight work. I’m using this weekend to study for all my midterms and to finish writing all my essays due next week and…I don’t really have time, m’really sorry,” you sound timid, exhausted and it makes him on edge, his brain immediately centering on how he can make you feel better.

“Do you need help with anything, cariño? Can I do anything?” He sits up on the couch, standing in the next moment to pace near his boots and his keys laid out on the counter, ready to pounce when you say the word.

“Oh, gosh, I don’t know…I feel like I can’t even think about making my dinner right now. I’m sorry.”

The coating of your voice and the sniffle through the phone are unmistakable; you’re on the verge of tears attempting to think of what he can do, the avalanche of stress you’re feeling. A crack sharpens across his heart, hands craving to hold you close and to fix it all for you.

“Oh, bebita, dulzura, you don’t have to apologize to me. I wanna spend time with you, help you. Don’t need to be going out or doing anything else than just sittin’ with you,” he nests his phone between his shoulder and ear while he slips his boots on, “Do you mind if I come by? If it stresses you out, you can tell me to leave but if I’m there maybe I can find something to help with.”

It’s quiet on the line while you consider, another sniffle nearly sending him out the door without your actual answer.

“Okay, yeah. You can come over. But I look like a mess and my apartment looks like a tornado went through it and I might cry in front of you.”

Javier chuckles and shakes his head while he grabs his phone with his hand to keep it against his ear. His free hand grabs for his keys, plucking his jacket off the coat rack and already walking out the door.

“Don’t worry about any of that, bebita. M’here to help you, I wanna take care of you,” he hears a hum of acknowledgment from you, “I’ll be there in like half an hour, alright? Gotta make a couple stops while I’m out and then I’ll be there for you, okay?”

“Okay…” you say quietly, “Thank you, Javi.”

“I’ll see you in a bit, angel.”

Exactly thirty minutes later, a knock raps on your front door, strong and short. Glancing up at the entrance, you see the lock turned and call out loud enough to be heard in the hallway.

“It’s open!”

The door unlatches and swings open, the rustle of bags hitting your ears before the sight of Javi hits your eyes. He juggles the thin plastic handles of the grocery haul in his hands, shaking his head as he pushes the door closed behind him with his boot-clad foot.

“Don’t like that you're keeping your door unlocked, bebita. S’not safe, what if I wasn’t me?” The strict, skeptical agent shows through — paranoia in his eyes while he sets down the bags on your counter, walking back over to lock the door and shrug off his black leather jacket. Underneath his outerwear, the black short-sleeve button-up clings to his torso and stretches at his shoulders. It’s tucked into his usual jeans with his belt on display, and one look exchanged with him reminds him to kick off his shoes — baby blue socks with small figures of different types of dogs patterning the surfaces of them.

“Hello to you, Javier,” you chuckle and turn back to your books, continuing to read over the chapter summary you were engrossed with before his entrance.

His sock-covered feet pad softly over to you at your dining table, taking in the sight of you before he stands behind you, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

“Hi, bebita.” He smiles when you lay your head back to look up at him behind you, grinning and giggling when he leans over again to kiss you. “Missed you.”

“I’m just giving you shit.” A laugh leaves your mouth in quiet breaths when he rolls his eyes, steps back to your kitchen counter and starts to unpack everything. You pull yourself away from the table to follow him over, shaking your head at all of the snacks, drinks, and extra pens and notecards spilling out of the bags. “Gosh, Javi. How much stuff did you get?”

He glanced at you sheepishly, shrugging, “Didn’t know what you might want, so kind of got everything I thought you’d like.”

One hand lands on his bicep closest to you, turning his attention to you for you to lean up and kiss him sweetly. You can feel your heart in your throat at the expanse of his thoughtfulness, truly wanting to come over to help without any other expectations.

“I like your socks, by the way.” Another kiss is stolen before you’re back to the table, plopping down and attempting to fall back into studying. A long sigh leaves your lips and Javi frowns when he looks over at you, hyper-focused on all the text laid out in front of you. He putters around your kitchen, poking through to find plates and silverware to keep from asking you; dishing up the takeout he got after putting away the snacks and drinks, he walks back over and sets a plate down in front of you.

“Pause for a few minutes, angel, you gotta eat. And I got your favorite from that Thai restaurant we went to last week.” Javi takes the seat at the corner next to you, pulling away your books to clear a spot for you to eat. The look on your face is painful when you pick up the fork as if any more energy expended for a task other than studying is too much to handle.

“Thank you, Javi. Really. I think it would have been one of those eating shredded cheese from the bag or potato chips over the sink kind of nights if you didn’t come.”

“No need to apologize, bebita. M’always here for you,” he speaks tenderly with a smile, the two of you making light conversation while you eat. Before he clears the plates back to the kitchen, he takes your hand lying on the surface and toys with your fingers. “You can tell me to fuck off and I won’t be offended, but I’ll stick around for a few minutes in case you need me, okay?”

Immediately you shake your head and grip his hand in yours, “No, please stay. D’you mind helping me study? Like quizzing me or something? I want….I want you to stay here. Please.”

Javier holds back a wide smile, giddiness kicking up inside him. He clears his throat and nods, squeezing your hand. He stands up and bends forward to kiss your forehead, “Course I’ll help you study, angel. Let me clean up all this and then we’ll get started, yeah?”

It’s for the next couple of hours that Javier studies with you, asking you sample exam questions from the textbook and quizzing you with the notecards that you’ve made. He keeps you supplied with snacks and hydrated with water, intermittently joking with you to keep you relaxed.

It’s about eleven o’clock at night, Javi’s been here for four hours, and the rest of the weekend is ahead of you both. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, newly made notecards in his hands while you pace the kitchen in front of him. A hand runs through your hair, tugging and sighing when you can’t remember.

“God, I don’t—I don’t know…” You continue your pacing and shake your head, feeling your heart rate increase and your throat start to constrict with anxiety. The hand in your hair moves to press against your chest. “I really don’t know, shit, can you—can you tell me please?”

“Lombroso’s concept of a born criminal is atavism.”

The next few cards you also forget or get wrong and after the last incorrect answer, you stop in the tracks of your pacing. Angry tears of frustration burn at your eyes, words caught in your throat, and breaths come out short and harsh. Javier looks up at you when your movement stops, brows knitting together with concern when he sees the tears in your eyes and hears the clipped inhales and exhales.

“Bebita, c’mere.” Javi pats his lap and you shuffle over, straddling his legs and sitting in his lap to face him. “Let’s call it for tonight. We have all weekend to get you feeling confident for the exam, but trying to push yourself anymore tonight is only going to make you feel worse.”

“But—"

Javier shakes his head and brings his hands up to cradle your face, thumbs swiping away the few tears that have fallen.

“No, no ‘buts’. There’s no need to be getting upset about it. You’re exhausted and overworked, you’ve been doing this all day. And you know all of this, I know you do, angel. You’re too tired to concentrate and you need to rest.”

“God, I wish I could turn my brain off. This is all I’m gonna be thinkin’ about.”

“I can help with that, bebita.” Javier’s hands run up and down your thighs, snaking around to palm your ass with a gentle squeeze.

“Oh, yeah? And how would you do that?” You play dumb, feigning innocence to his suggestion. Brow cocked up, mouth pursued in curiosity.

“Hm, think we both know what I would do, but m’happy to tell you.” His hands roam again, trailing up your sides to cup under your breasts through your flimsy t-shirt. Your nipples pebble underneath the material when his thumbs brush over them, a satisfied smirk on his face at the sight. “I’ll take you into your bedroom. Kiss you, play with you until you’re dripping for me. And then I’m gonna use my mouth on you, jus’ like the first time, and make you come for me over and over until I think you’re ready. And when you’re begging for me, I’ll give you exactly what you want, bebita. My sweet zorrita is gonna get exactly what she needs — a good fucking.”

Your hips start to grind into his lap, nodding slowly as you listen to him and whining quietly as your eyes close. His hands stall your motions, bringing your attention to him as he admires you from below.

“Let’s go, baby. Think you need it now,” he rasps out, helping you up from his lap and following close behind you. His hands stay at your hips while you walk ahead of him at a delayed pace, his lips kissing and teeth biting at your neck. Trailing down the hallway, he slowly undresses you, leaving each article of clothing on the floor in your wake. Once the two of you reach your bedroom, he turns you toward him and kisses you hurriedly, moaning against your lips when he feels your hand palm him over his jeans.

Javier pulls himself back from you, shaking his head as he steps you backward to hit the edge of your bed, pushing you to sit and nodding to the center of the mattress. You scoot back a bit until he stops you in place, getting onto his knees at the side of the bed and hooking your legs over his shoulders.

He unbuttons a few of the top buttons on his shirt, loosening the material around his shoulders, and licks his lips as he takes in the sight of your glistening cunt.

“God, bebita, you’re always so ready for me. Whenever I want you. Do I get you that worked up being around you, hm?” His tone is cocky as he speaks, dragging two fingers through your folds and collecting some of your wetness. He slips those fingers in his mouth, working his tongue around them and moaning at the taste of you. The fingers pull out of his mouth with an audible pop, and you get onto your elbows to look at him in the eyes as he pushes those same fingers into your entrance.

“Fuck, Javi…” you moan, rolling your head back as he fucks you with his fingers, shallow and slow at first. He’s mesmerized by the view of you taking it easily, sweet little sounds hitting his ears in a satisfying way. “M-More, please. Pretty please.”

“Only because you asked so nicely, angel.” He chuckles and adds another digit, picking up his speed and getting as deep into you as he can. His other hand uses its thumb to run quick circles on your dripping clit, moaning to himself when your noises get louder and higher pitched. “You close already, bebita?”

“Yesyesyes, fuck, m’gonna come—“ You clench around his fingers, gripping the duvet under your hands.

“Ask, baby. Gotta mind your manners, mi zorrita.”

“Ple—please may I come, Javi? M’so close, oh my god,” you tack a whine at the end, lifting your hips and huffing out a breath when he pushes them back down.

“Go ahead, bebita. Come for me—" You moan his name loudly and squeeze your eyes shut, your walls gripping around his fingers tightly. “Oh, yes, fuck. That’s it, angel, that’s it.”

He works you through your orgasm, your breaths evening out after a minute. Once you’ve come down, you realize he’s inching closer between your legs, lips dragging along your inner thighs. Before you can get a word out, his mouth is on you, sucking your clit harshly. Your whine raises in pitch, hands tangling in his hair to push him away.

When he lifts his head, his dark eyes find yours as he licks his lips.

“Gonna let me taste this sweet little cunt, angelita? Make good on all my promises,” he challenges you and you breathe out a ‘yes’, all the permission he needs to put his head between your thighs.

At his first full taste, a switch flips and he devours you like a starving man — sucking, licking, fucking you with his tongue. You’re writhing under him, one strong hand splayed against your lower tummy to keep you down.

“Javi, oh fuck, feels so fucking good—oh my god, you’re so fucking good at this. Has anyone ever told you that?” You ramble the closer you get and Javi smirks against you, the words egging him on to give you more.

He pulls two conservative orgasms from you with his mouth, sucking your clit and licking into your walls with his tongue. Your brain is slowly shutting off, study materials are completely forgotten, and limbs light as air as you lay back on the bed.

Javier stands from the floor, a soft groan and clicking of his knees drawing your attention to him. He strips down from his own clothes, standing in his underwear and nodding to you on the bed.

“Scoot up, baby — that’s it, good girl.” He smirks when you move languidly, reaching out for him when he climbs onto the bed on his knees. Your arms fall to rest stretched above your head, putting you completely on display for him.

“How d’you want me, Javi?” you purr and it nearly sends him reeling, but he shakes his head and smirks down at you.

“Jus’ like this, babygirl. Wanna be able to see you, watch your pretty face as I take care of you.” Javier reaches his hand toward you, instructing you to lick. He takes the same hand and wraps it around his cock, stroking himself as he spreads your legs with his other hand. Settling between them, he drags the head of his cock through your folds, nudging your overly sensitive clit and chuckling darkly when your thighs twitch.

“Javi, please—" He shuts you up with further teasing, slipping himself inside, just the tip. He hisses from behind his bared teeth, rolling his head back to recover before he gives a few pumps of his hips and pulls out of you completely. The next move he teases your clit again, sliding his cock down to prod at the entrance of your tightest hole before moving back up to your cunt slipping just the tip inside of you again.

Under him, you're twitching and writhing with whines and whimpers, gripping the sheets.

“Javi, please, need you.” You choke out, a soft sob of a moan when he keeps fucking you with only his tip, refusing to give you any more inches. The next word leaves on an exhale before you can think about it, “Daddy…”

“What was that, bebita? Didn’t quite hear you.”

“Daddy, fuck me, please.”

Javier stills for a moment, processing exactly what you said while you’re silent, anxiety heightening with each tick of the clock and his lack of response. His hips are still shallowly fucking you, involuntary whimpers escaping your mouth.

“Daddy, huh? You wanna call me that? Got you so cockdumb before I’ve even given it to you.” His eyes are nearly pitched-black, desire evident in his roaming, worshiping hands.

“Yes, yes please, daddy. I need you, please.” The words catch in your throat and you arch your back for him, tits slightly jiggling with the motion.

“You wanted to work on your Spanish, huh? No daddy, bebita. Llámame Papí (Call me Papí). Say it, bebita. Say it for me, buena chica.” His acceptance of your knee-jerk word spill has your mind melting, clenching your walls around the tip of his cock that’s buried inside of you. “Say it.”

“Papí…” you exhale, the noise choking in your throat when he thrusts hard to fill you up to the hilt. A sobbing moan leaves your mouth when he pulls nearly out of you, only to start a punishing pace fucking you hard and deep.

“That’s right, bebita. M’taking care of you, right? Just like a papí should. You call me that as much as you want, angel. Like hearing it come from you.”

Javier grunts at the strain of how hard he’s fucking you, the sounds of your whines and his groans mixing into a melody with the slaps of skin together. It’s filthy if anyone was looking in, but the thought of that makes him fuck you harder, relishing in the sound of your wetness squelching around his cock.

“God, mi bebita, you are taking my cock so well. You like it? Am I filling you up?”

“Yes—oh my god, taking care of me…”

“That’s right, bebita, M’gonna take care of you. You wanna come on my cock, angel?”

“Yes please, daddy…”

Javi’s hips stutter at you saying it, starting again harder and faster, “Not daddy, bebita. You wanna call me that, you call me Papí, baby. Let me hear you say it.”

“P-Papí, oh my fuck, feels so good. So full, Papí.” You’re rambling under him, incomplete and incoherent thoughts, “Oh, fuck— Just there— Papí, papí, papí, ohmygod right there!”

The name is dripping with sweetness from your lips, snapping something into his brain. He’s desperate to provide for you, to take care of you in any way you need. Right now, that is fucking you dumb enough to forget about your stress. Tomorrow, it’ll be getting you coffee in the morning and helping you reevaluate your study materials.

Underneath him, you’re feeling something of the same, enamored with the man above you. The same one who drove around town to pick up things he thought you would like, feeding you, helping you study. The one who smiles at you in the halls, and calls you his babygirl behind doors. Now, he’s fucking you into oblivion and melting your brain to mush to give you what you need. He grips your legs and presses them to fold at your sides, the adjusted position bringing him deeper than before. The head of him hits that special spot inside of you, over and over until it’s driving you to the edge fast.

“Oh, fuck! Papí! Please—Please, please, please. Gonna come, please may I come, Papí?” Your brain turns on its entire leftover power to ask politely, knowing your manners would still have to be minded with your cockdumb mind.

“Such a good girl, so polite. Come for me, bebita. Let me feel your tight pussy grip my cock.” Javier groans when you let go as soon as you get his permission, relishing in the look on your face with a perfect ‘O’ mouth and walls sucking him in further as his thrusts slow down. The tightness of you brings him to his own peak, feeling precum dribbling out inside of you as he gets as close to the edge as possible.

“Oh fuck, fuck, angel. Gonna fucking come, where d’you want me?” His brow knits together with a look of pain, and you breathlessly answer.

“Outside, please, Papí. Anywhere else you want.”

He nods and pulls out of you, using his fist to fuck himself, painting his come across your torso in long ropes. Javier moans your name over and over under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut as his chest heaves with relief.

It’s quiet, nothing spoken while you both crash down. In a moment of clarity in his post-orgasm haze, he stretches over to your nightstand to grab a few tissues, wiping you clean of his spend. He tosses it in your desk trash bin, searching around the floor for his clothes. When he picks up his boxers, you make a small noise of protest and grab his attention.

“Don’t—Um, would you—" You can’t get the words out, shyness clawing at your throat. Javier fills in the blanks, smiling softly at you as he drops his boxers and climbs back onto your bed over your lying form.

“D’you want me to stay, bebita?”

You nod and smile sheepishly, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinning wider when he leans down to kiss you chastely.

“Can you ask me, angel?”

“Will you have a sleepover with me…Papí?” you giggle as you tack on the name at the end, Javier smirking and nodding his head.

“Of course I’ll stay. And if you keep pulling that out all the time, there’s going to be a lot of fucking in random places. Jus’ does something for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. Think you know that, bebita. Mi bebita.” 

“Well, that does the same thing for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. I like being your bebita.”

“Siempre, Bebita. Always gonna be it.” Javier punctuates the conversation with another kiss, laying down completely next to you and wrapping you up in his arms. His fingers play with your hair, laying your head on his chest as you close your eyes.

A thought pops into your head, picking up your head to look Javi in the eyes.

“Are you gonna be going to the department event next week?”

“That’s what you’re thinking about right now, angel?”

“Yes, now please answer.” You poke his chest, giggling when he pinches your side playfully.

“I will be there, yes, Bebita. I’m assuming you’re going too?” He asks as he closes his eyes, exhaustion overcoming him slowly.

You smile and bite your lip, tracing shapes against his skin, “Well, would you wanna pick out my dress for it?”

That grabs his attention, his eyes shooting open with a grin growing across his face.

“Gonna let me choose what I get to see you in, Bebita? Don’t know if you want that, 'cause I could have you walking around in nothing.”

You snort out a laugh, shaking your head before laying on his chest again and closing your eyes to sleep.

“We both know you wouldn’t do that. Would you really want all those people looking at me? Thought I was all yours, don’t you wanna keep me to yourself?”

“Damn, you’re right. Guess I’ll have to pick out a pretty dress and then I can take you home and have you walk around in nothing for me.” He smiles and kisses the top of your head, sighing out a tired exhale. “Now, sleep time, Bebita. You dream of the pretty dresses I’ll get for you, no exams, and I’ll be dreamin’ about you in nothing.”

A laugh escapes your lips, nodding in agreement, “Goodnight, Javi.”

“Night, Bebita.” There’s more he wants to say, burning in his chest, but he knows it’s too soon — too much right now and it would scare you off. Instead, he holds you closer and kisses your head again, drifting off contently with you in his arms to take care of.

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[littledigits]

That time when working in animation made me realize I needed therapy

Since we're on the topic of overworking / being passionate in animation and blah blah blah.  I want to share my story about working on the first season of Hilda (for context I was the animation director), specifically..how completely garbo my mental health got because 

I INSISTED ON WORKING MYSELF INTO THE GROUND. 

This is a story I've shared when I've had a chance to do lectures or talks, and if there is one really awesome thing that comes with ..weird ..animation clout, its that you can use those powers for good in terms of teaching people about the BS that comes with the job...anyway.

The reason why I like to talk about this is because I insisted on doing it to myself, and that was really got me thinking about the factors that do lead us into over working. Because heres the deal

Hilda season 1 was, without getting into too many details, a heckofatime...especally for the core crew. we were a small group, doing something new because most of us haven't worked on a show before that included pre production. My entire career up to that point had been working on service work for shows that were created in Burbank, so the new pipeline had a ton of challenges. We did all care, and we all believed in the project SOOOO much. I would tell people not to work over time, because I want my team to leave on time - but I was there...a lot. Leaving the studio by 11pm , working through the weekends..it wasnt an uncommon thing for me. sure , it wasnt all the time, but this stuff spans years sometimes so it went in waves. But whenever the challenges came up, i doubled down. because I super believed in it.

  And the thing was - other people told me to stop. I had a lot of valid concerns given to me by my friends and team members who saw how I was burning myself out at both ends. And I thought like, well , its my *choice*.  Its my chance to have a voice and be creative and try to do something different and we all have to push ourselves and yes its HARD but. THATS HOW YOU DO IT RIGHT? surely if I just make sure I’m the one overworking and my team isn't.. that's fine. 

Well, no, I was immensely effecting my team maybe I wasn’t telling them to work late, but they were seeing me get more and more tired and stay later and later.  I thought they would still approach me for help, or if they struggled. But the issues they had they kept to themselves without wanting to put more on my shoulders. Because they *cared* , just as much as I did ..and we all took more on our shoulders then we should have and there were a lot of things that I could have solved had I fostered a better communication environment.  I became really resentful in my head over the smallest things, I actually saw myself becoming a more hateful person and easily annoyed. I came home every day rambling about the frustrations. Now, let me preface this by saying - my mental state did not only have to do with overworking. I had and have things still to unpack, but the control I had over work and the validation I got from it was a coping mechanism for me. I really didnt think i had any worth as a person outside of this job. It basically was a very nasty cycle that didnt stop until ...well I had gotten so bad I had to.  By the end of the first season I was actually incredibly close to quitting . I was in big anxiety attack territory because I was so worn thin- I had started therapy but eventually moved onto getting medication as well and that was what allowed me to stick it out. ( I have the same therapist and I am on the same meds, it was very hard to do at the time, but i cant imagine my life now without making that choice ). After it was done I was immensely supported by the studio and worked part time as a trainer, which is what i requested to give my brain a break. (Only a few of my closer friends knew how bad I was getting but it was pretty obvious I needed to rest) I'm really proud of the work we did and we keep doing on the show, ..and some other people may have gone through something similar and found it was worth it, but thats not me. I still struggle not to fall back into that mindset, but it helps knowing that if i keep myself out of it , i can help my team out of it, because I know they care about this show just as much as I do. I’m not a martyr, I am a leader, and its up to me to keep myself healthy so I can keep my crew healthy.   I always strive to be better, but i get to decide what that looks like - and for me ..better has nothing to do with the image on the screen. Its got more to do with the experience of the people around me. Readjusting those priorities has helped a lot with keeping my head above water and not add to the pressure that makes it so hard not to get sucked down in the first place.  I do think its good to talk about though , how our passion and language and drive can lead to a lot of us being a part of this cycle. And if theres one good thing about the challenges, its sharing them so at least others can learn faster then you did ;) . take care of yourself friends.

[giggle-guru]

A Helping Hand

Word Count: 3457

This took way longer to edit than I anticipated LOL. There’s probably still some mistakes here and there, but I hope you like the read! The world needs more Lee!Husk in my opinion hehe

I should also specify that because this one caters more towards Husker and Angel, there’s a bit more canon friendly wording if anyone isn’t a fan of swearing :)

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Husk was working his regular bartending shift at the Hazbin Hotel. Well, it should have been a normal shift. Word had spread around the Pride Ring about the possibility of redemption…or, in most cases, the supposibly safer housing within the hotel. Thanks to the increase in guests, it was getting busier on weekends. He attempted to tell Alastor that it was getting out of hand and he couldn’t keep up, but unsurprisingly his pleas fell on deaf ears. After all, it ‘wasn’t his problem he couldn’t keep up with the demands. Perhaps if he spent more time working he’d accomplish something’. Prick.

He rolls his eyes as another patron begins complaining about some nonsense before taking their drink with a smartass comment. He could barely stand it, sick and tired of the constant ringing of the service bell despite him obviously standing right there. Or sinners ordering the most complex bullshit they can think of just to be a pain. Hell, he hadn’t even had time to drink yet tonight. With all the stress and irritation building to a breaking point, he barely registered Angel waltzing up to the bar and leaning on the counter. “Heya kitty!” Angel speaks in that same flirarious and flamboyant voice.

Husk glances over and immediately feels a tad less annoyed upon spotting his boyfriend. Though, he quickly covers it and puts on his regular persona as he rolls his eyes and groans quietly. “What do you want? I’m busy and not in the mood.” He grumbles.

Angel isn’t fazed in the slightest, however, a flash of concern crosses his features when he sees the state that his boyfriend is in. He is used to Husk being a grumpy old cat. Hell, his ‘no fucks given’ attitude was what drew him to him in the first place. But he could tell there was more going on in his head right now. The bags under his eyes were darker than usual, and he looked more disheveled and irritable. “What’s wrong, Husky?” Angel tilts his head.

Instantly, Husk groaned internally. He shouldn’t be surprised that Angel could tell something was off with him. He was normally good at hiding how he felt, but he was beyond stressed out right now and had nothing in him to help him cope. Not even a single drop of booze. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Just the usual annoying bullshit. Don’t worry about it. It’s my problem to deal with.” He grumbles, dismissing Angel’s concerns as if it wasn’t a big deal. A quiet sigh escapes his lips as he turns to deal with another patron who came up to the bar intoxicated beyond belief, yelling at him far louder than necessary, attempting to ignore the concern growing in his boyfriend’s eyes.

Angel does not falter, waiting slightly impatiently for him to deal with the asshole. His eyes narrow slightly at the customer’s attitude and he starts to gather what is likely bothering his lover the more he looks around the bar. Once the sinner is gone, he locks his eyes with Husk’s. “Nothin’s wrong and you’re totally fine, eh? Sure ya are toots. You’re sober on the job, what, ya tryna quit drinkin’?”

Husk feels his body tense up as soon as Angel brings up the fact that he is clearly sober. He stares at the glass he was cleaning earlier and is quiet for a moment before taking a deep breath. He exhales heavily, trying to ignore the growing exhaustion. “No. I just haven’t had the chance to drink anything tonight, alright? I’ve been busy. The hotel is fucking overcrowded, it's been like this for days now and Alastor keeps ignoring my ass. On top of that everyone is bothering me and-” he cuts himself off. “You get my point. Just…I’m fine, Angel. Go to bed or something.” He mutters defensively, moving back to continue wiping the glasses for only a moment before another patron approaches the bar.

Of course Angel knew Husk hated admitting aloud when he wasn’t doing okay, so by no means did he expect him to tell him exactly how he was feeling. Shit, Husk was so good at calling Angel’s bluffs whenever he lied about his feelings because of how much he did it himself. There was no way Angel was going to stand around and let his boyfriend suffer thanks to how busy the bar is. “Let me help make some drinks, Husky.” He pushes himself off of the bartop and walks behind the bar.

Husk pauses, slightly surprised that Angel even offered to do such a thing. He stares at him bewildered for a second before speaking. “You don’t have to do that. Do you even know how to make a damn drink?” He grumbles, arguing weakly. He hates the idea of needing help, let alone from his boyfriend, even though he was in dire need of some right now.

Angel shoots him a deadpan look. “That a real question, Husky?” He knows it is a weak attempt at a deflection so he would bug off, but it was almost laughable. He obviously knew how to mix a drink. “I’m helpin’ ya out, and you ain’t going to say no to me.” He pokes his side to emphasize a point. It just so happens that he pokes right where his lower ribs meet the cat demon’s furry side, a known sensitive spot.

Husk tenses up when Angel touches that spot. Almost instantly, his face flushes and he lets out a short surprised laugh and his shoulders twitch upwards as he covers his mouth with his hand to try to stifle the sound before it could get out. His other tries to swat Angel away, but it was a weak shove that would certainly not stop him. “Don’t-! Don’t do that. And Hell no, I’m not letting you work with me.”

Now that reaction piqued Angel’s interest. He knew Husker was ticklish, despite the cat’s attempts to hide it from him when they first got together. It was honestly one of Angel’s favorite ways to tease him, where he usually would utilize his extra limbs to torture him to get him laughing for fun or to get him out of whatever mood he was in. It always worked and got Husk to relax, and something in his gut told him he could definitely use it to his advantage. “I told you I ain’t taking no for an answer. I’m helping ya out tonight so get used to my sexy ass servin’ drinks.” He acts oblivious to the earlier reaction…for now.

Husk bites his tongue, feeling a mix of frustration and an undeniable flutter of embarrassment whenever Angel teased or tickled him like that. It always threw him off guard, but he was a prideful demon and would never admit just how much he liked getting tickled by Angel. He puts on a frown, narrowing his eyes slightly in an attempt to seem more stern, but it looked fairly pathetic considering his fur was starting to get a pink tinge to it. He knew what his boyfriend was doing too, if that devilish smirk creeping onto his face was anything to go by. “Fine. Fine. Sure. But you listen to me, alright? I’m not explaining to these idiots why their drinks are shit because you fucked up.”

Angel grins victoriously, storing the information away to be used later. “Yeah, yeah. You be careful Whiskers. I might be takin’ ya job cause them customers are gonna love my booze.” He shoots him a flirtatious wink before going about his night behind the counter and serving the new group of customers that approached the bar.

Husk sighs, rolling his eyes as his fur bristles. He couldn’t be more annoyed at himself for his lack of ability to stay mad at Angel. Sure, he was a natural grouch to the others but he could never maintain his irritation when Angel was around. Especially not when he flirts with him. So, begrudgingly he moves to assist with the patrons while keeping an eye on Angel in case he tries to do something stupid. The help would be beneficial if Angel kept out of trouble, but it doesn’t change the fact that he is sober, irritated, and exhausted.

The next few minutes go by with little conversation between them as they work to fulfill the needs of the patrons. Angel was trying to be as casual as possible, serving drinks with his signature flirtatious smile and wink in an attempt to get Husk to lower his guard. He knew Husk was still overwhelmed, and it was time to put his plan in action to get some serotonin running through him again. As another group approaches the bar, he moves past Husk to grab one of the bottles they requested, and in the process ‘accidentally’ runs his fingers along Husk’s side.

Even though Husk knows he should stay cautious and watch Angel, he lets himself be momentarily distracted by other guests. So, when Angel ran his fingers along his side - the bastard - Husk had to quickly bring a hand to cover his mouth to stifle the high-pitch, yet fairly quiet, laugh that almost escapes him. He shoots Angel a glare as soon as he recovers from the initial surprise, though doesn’t comment further as he masks his reaction by handling the guest's drink request. He unfortunately cannot hide how his face is tinged pink out of embarrassment.

Angel plays the innocent card, grabbing the bottle he needs and continuing to chat up the patron without even acknowledging Husk. He tries to act casual like he wasn’t trying to do it on purpose, but Husk sees right through it. As if he would fall for that obvious act, it was clear it was on purpose. Despite his annoyance, he can’t help the small flicker of excitement. He tries to focus on his bartending as the guests come and go.

This happens a few more times, each with the same reaction. As the minutes tick by, Angel realizes he wants to get him to break just a little more. So, he waits for there to be a quick break from the hustle before walking beside him and asking a random question. “Hey Husky, what’s that bottle over there for?” He squeezes his side as if it was an attempt to get his attention.

Husk is cleaning a glass when Angel asks. However, he has no time to respond before he feels fingers squeezing his side rapidly. Another surprised squeak escapes him and a laugh tries to follow but he quickly covers his mouth with his paw, tail swaying. He grumbles and lowers his hand, eyes narrowing with a hint of begrudging playfulness. “What the fu-! Oh…the bottle? That’s whiskey, dumbass. Read the damn label.”

Angel nods, acting as if this was a shocking revelation. “Oooh! Okay.” He walks in front of Husk as if he was going to go grab it to look at it, purposely trailing his fingers along the cat’s stomach in the process.

The moment Angel’s fingers trail along his stomach, Husk jolts, unable to stop the way his lower body twitches and scrunches in an attempt to escape the ticklish sensation. He grits his teeth and instinctively covers his mouth again, biting his tongue to avoid letting out the giggle bubbling in his throat. His fur bristles. “Stop doing that, you jackass.” He mumbles, shooting a half-assed glare in Angel’s direction.

“Stop what?” Comes the innocent reply, though the tone of voice in no way matches the shit-eating grin plastered on Angel’s face. He plays with the whiskey bottle in hand, twirling it around.

Husk stares at him for a moment with tinged cheeks. Of course. Of course, Angel is oh so innocent, with not a clue that he has been tickling him all night. He rolls his eyes and desperately tries to maintain his grumpy and irritated expression. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Knock it off,” he mumbles under his breath, doing his best to keep the annoyance in his voice despite the urge to let a small smile grace his features. Honestly, the customers were the last thing on his mind right now.

“Sorry, Husky, I ain’t got a clue whatcha talkin’ about.” He giggles, putting down the whisky bottle and moving to once again serve another group of guests. It could never be as simple as that though, and Angel moves past him, squeezing one of his hips.

Husk nearly lost it. He didn’t think Angel would target his hips when it came to this game he was playing. A sharp, surprised squeak escapes him that could truthfully be classified more as a yelp than anything, almost embarrassingly loud enough to get the random sinners' attention. He covers his mouth once again in a flash, trying desperately to contain his reaction but he is starting to lose the battle. His lower half tries to jerk away from the contact once more. This time, though, he can’t get that small grin off of his face as he lowers his hand and shoots Angel a look. He can see the amusement gleaming in Angel’s eyes as he whips up the drinks the patrons ask for. Husk moves to help him, and upon them successfully getting the group's drinks, he crosses his arms and looks at Angel with the faintest smile. “I thought you were helping me, not bothering me.” He attempts a grumbling voice, trying to play off his clear enjoyment and flustered look.

“I am helpin’. Look at ya. You’re smilin’!” He looks extremely smug right now, clearly feeling a sense of accomplishment.

Husk felt his heart race in his chest now. If Angel teases him like this for any longer, in public no less, he will certainly break. He knows Angel is right, his smile was impossible to hide now. He hates and loves the fact that his boyfriend knows just how to push his buttons to get him smiling. “So what? It’s a smile…big deal.” He speaks sarcastically, his tail swaying softly behind him.

“Is that you askin’ for more?” Angel’s grin widens far more as he takes a glance at the sinners within the bar. No one looks like they’re on their way over to get another drink just yet.

Husk bites his tongue. He wants to tell Angel to fuck off and stop, but he knows a part of him doesn't want it to stop. If anything, he does want more. It feels nice, especially given his earlier stress. The feeling of being flustered and almost giddy, something other than annoyance and exhaustion is a pleasant reprieve. “That isn’t a fair question, jackass.” He mutters, knowing the implication that Angel is making. He is playing a dangerous game right now.

That is exactly the response Angel is looking for. In a flash, he is standing behind Husker, his lower arms holding his hips in place while his upper arms begin to squeeze up and down his sides. He leans in close to Husker’s ear and mumbles in a quiet and teasing voice. “Better stay quiet Husky, you don’t want anyone lookin’ over at ya.”

That asshole. The fact that no one was around meant that things could get just a little bit more playful, and Husk certainly wasn’t expecting Angel to pounce on him like this. He barely contains a squeal, soft giggles slipping past his lips as his body squirms back into Angel’s stomach as he fights half-heartedly to escape. He doesn’t try to muffle his laughter with his hand this time around, instead pushing at Angel’s wrists.

“Relax, Husky. Ain’t no one ‘round but us. Let loose a little bit. I’ll stop if someone comes over, promise. Ya look so tense.” Angel keeps that flirty and teasing tone, moving his upper arms instead to his boyfriend's ribs.

Husk feels an unfamiliar, fluttery feeling in his stomach as Angel speaks softly into his ear and holds him close to his chest. He shivers at the feeling of his fingers wiggling between his ribs. He knows no one would see, and if they did they would be too drunk to even recall this in the morning. He holds back only for a few seconds before realizing he doesn’t have the energy to fight back, so he lets himself laugh and giggle freely. His giggling grows louder the faster Angel moves his fingers, but not loud enough to be heard by anyone other than his Angel. “S-Shit! Angie!” He giggles hysterically.

“There we go. You’re just my little ticklish kitty, ain’tcha?” He teases, purposely exploiting the moment as he keeps an eye out for any drunks looking like they are on their way to the bar.

Husker only squirms more intensely at the tease. His mind was so muddled from the stress earlier, that now, with the sensations on his sides and ribs, he can’t even form a reply or protest. He shakes his head instead in a half-assed effort to deny the accusation as he giggles and squirms, his hands holding onto Angel’s arms as his tail now wraps around one of Angel’s legs.

A few minutes go by with Angel alternating his tickle attacks, ranging from his sides to his underarms, even sneaking in a devious squeeze of his hips now and then. But of course, all good things must come to an end and Angel spots a patron turning towards the bar. He quickly lets Husk go and moves to wait and deal with the customer, but not before whispering “Ya feelin’ any better?”

Husk is a giggling mess as Angel lets him go. He stands there, leaning onto the bartop for support with his arms crossed and his tail flicking, trying to catch his breath and calm himself down. He brushes his fur to soothe it, but he can’t help the huge smile that remains on his face, a light blush gracing his cheeks. He’s on cloud nine right now, all that attention and love easing away his earlier troubles. He’d never admit just how much he likes it though. “...A bit. But you pushed your limits there you bastard.” He glances at Angel, his eyes filled with adoration. Yeah, the stress and irritation was definitely long gone.

Angel hums, proud of himself for making his boyfriend a literal mess. He gets the customer his drink before looking back at Husk. “I didn’t go too far did I?” He moves to press a quick kiss on Husk’s forehead. “I hope I didn’t go overboard or anything. I just wanted to make ya laugh.”

Husk feels a flutter in his chest when he spots that proud expression on his boyfriend’s face. He feels much better than before, everything being replaced by that light and airy feeling. He flushes at the sudden public display of affection. He shakes his head, that smile still on his face. “Nah, you didn’t go too far. Just…a lot has been happening the past few days with work. It was nice to have something else on my mind.” He admits, looking away with slight embarrassment at the admission that he enjoyed being tickled.

“Good. I’ll help ya out for the next hour or so and then we can head off to bed since the bar will be closed. I’ll run ya a bath if ya want. Or we can cuddle. You always take care of me, let me return the favor.” He looks down at Husk with a look of genuine care and adoration.

Husk’s heart races when he hears Angel's tone of voice. He appreciates it far more than he lets on, so to hear him say that? Butterflies are in his stomach for the first time in who knows how long. “Sure. Just help me get through this last bit and then we’ll just head to bed after. A bath sounds like a hell of a lot of work right now. I’ll take the cuddles though.” He speaks back as his usual gruff voice returns, though it has a tinge of softness.

Angel simply nods, and the two of them go back to serving the customers that approach the bar. Together they make small talk and joke around, and Angel can’t stop himself from sneaking in a few more tickles when he can. Husk can’t deny the fact that he feels lucky to have someone like Angel, someone that makes him smile and laugh so genuinely. Something he thought he lost the ability to do long ago. He sneaks a final glance at Angel, his heart beating faster as he cleans a glass while Angel serves the last customer of the night. He’s going to have to convince Angel to work the bar with him more often.

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Might take me a day or two to pump out the next fic. Not entirely sure how long it’ll be either, but I’d love to hear your ideas and feedback! Thank you for reading :)

[lovecarisi]

Mistakes We Knew We Were Making

Chapter 2: The Unraveling

Two weeks. Two weeks you had told him to wait. If he was still thinking about you then, he could call. Otherwise, he shouldn’t bother. And you had meant it. You had not saved his number, only given him yours.

Dominick had assured you that he would call but truth be told, you didn’t know his character from a quickie behind a boathouse in South Hampton. Promises were made and broken in the heat of a moment like that. Careless words were spoken all the time when there were no obligations involved, no strings attached. And it would have been no big deal.

You didn’t know anything about him except that he was studying criminal law at Fordham, lived somewhere in Williamsburg, and had stumbled onto the Hamptons scene that weekend the same way you had - some friends had dragged him there. Other than the way he was so magnetic and you wanted him with every fiber of your being, you didn’t even know if it was a physical attraction or more than that. However, you would have been lying to yourself if you didn’t admit to the fact that you spent every day of those two weeks thinking about him. Cursing yourself for telling him to wait. Hoping he would call. Even if it would end up being just a good old-fashioned booty call. Yes, you would still see him around somewhere if he didn’t call but it would hurt your pride. For him to have made you feel the way he did that night and never be acknowledged again? Sure you would cope eventually but not after a few weeks of utter bitterness and self-loathing. Ugh, once again you cursed his name for the millionth time these past two weeks. What a fool you had been.

__________________

You are sitting at your desk at the law firm’s office where you work part-time, typing away at an email reply. Two clients enter the room and you look up, smiling politely at them. 

‘Mister Phillips is ready for you, gentlemen. Would you care for some coffee?’ you offer.

They return your smile but shake their heads, and close the office door behind them in a rush. You sigh in relief, turning back towards the computer screen only to be interrupted by your phone vibrating on silent. You stare at the unknown number slightly annoyed but pick up with an exasperated ‘Yes?’

‘Guess this is a bad time, huh?’ you hear him chuckle on the other end.

Fuck. 

Fuck.

FUCKFUCKFUCK!

You draw in a sharp breath and sit up straight as though you just got caught doing something naughty. It’s him. Dominick. 

What the-. Your work had actually distracted you, kept you so busy you had forgotten about what day it was. For once in those two weeks you had not thought about him in a hot second.

‘It’s you.’ You feel so silly but you actually cannot believe he is really calling.

‘Well…you told me to call in two weeks. It’s been two weeks. And I’m afraid I haven’t stopped thinking about you. So I was hoping to see you again. Please say yes.’ 

He sounds like a little boy asking for his favorite toy back after it’s been taken from him. It makes you weak immediately, flashbacks to him and you together, skin on skin. Oh lord.

‘Yes.’ is all you manage to mutter. Girl, control yourself. You swallow hard, you’re sure he can hear it.

‘I’m so glad. Are you free tonight?’ The urgency in his tone of voice makes you feel so powerful, maybe he can’t control himself either.

‘I’ll text you my address.’

When you hang up you are shaking. There it is again that feeling in the pit of your stomach, spreading down between your legs. Your mind is racing. You actually can’t believe it. He had been waiting to call you. He had been thinking about you. In fact, in his own words, he had not stopped thinking about you. Your whole body is suddenly trembling with anticipation and disbelief. Is this really happening? The way he had so nonchalantly admitted to more or less obsessing over you the way you had over him. The way he had practically begged to see you. Oh boy, would you make it worth his while.

You finish early on Fridays so you run out of the office, stopping by your local grocery store to pick up some essentials, including a bottle of wine, before coming home to your small Bushwick apartment. Good thing is, you still have hours before Dominick gets here, bad thing is, you still have hours before Dominick gets here. Your anxiety is already through the roof and you kind of want to smoke some weed but you’re scared it will make it worse. 

So instead you take advantage of the luxury of having a bathtub and spend an hour soaking among lavender-scented bubbles. Looking down at your naked body, imagining him touching you again, and you have to hold back from touching yourself at the thought of it. Like you have so many times during the past two weeks when these thoughts had taken over. It was the way he had known exactly how you liked it, even the things you yourself hadn’t known you liked yet. 

It had never been this good with anyone before, even your ex-boyfriend of three years. He had never been able to even want you to open up like this because it was clear from the beginning that he was more interested in his own needs and wants. But you had hoped that you could coax it out of him by giving into whatever he demanded because after all, it was love, right? Or at least you thought it was. And yes, he had made you cum, most of the time. And yes, he had gone down on you. Even though you always felt like it was more of a chore to him than something he had enjoyed while you had to pretend that sucking his dick was something you relished when he more or less forced you into it. Either way, he never made you feel sexy, he never made you feel like the most important person in the room, like all eyes should be on you; like a woman, like a man should make you feel. Instead he liked to keep small, keep you in your place, talked over you to make himself look smart and important. So eventually, it all faded away between you two. And that was putting it mildly. You don’t like to think about it too much, it takes you to a dark place you don’t want to go. 

You don’t miss being in a relationship. In fact, you’re not looking for one. Whatever this is, is going to be, or not, between you and Dominick, you aren’t ready for anything serious. 

8pm on the dot, your doorbell rings. The spritz of perfume you just sprayed behind your ear still lingers in the air as you rush down the hallway to press the button on the intercom. Soft footsteps on the stairs. Your heart is pounding. You check yourself in the mirror one last time. No fancy outfit, nothing revealing. Just a simple gray cotton off-the-shoulder dress, your hair in a messy bun, soft make-up. Why bother when he already had your pussy in his face, right? Why bother when he for some reason already thinks you are the sexiest little thing?

He’s holding a small wicker basket full of fresh strawberries, the sweet scent overwhelming as you open the door to greet him. 

‘What-‘ you raise your eyebrows at him.

‘I think flowers are overrated and well…I passed a farmer’s market earlier on my way home, so. I hope you’re not allergic or are one of those rare people who hate strawberries.’ he’s babbling. He’s nervous. How cute. 

‘I love strawberries.’ you reply, as you pick one from the basket and grab his arm, pulling him in. The fruit is absolutely bursting with flavor as you bite into it. ‘Delicious.’ you smile, making it clear you’re not just talking about the strawberry.

‘Well, I’m glad.’ he smiles back at you.

‘Thank you.’

He follows you into the living room/kitchen area, his eyes tracing your body and your adorable little banter quickly gives way to that familiar heat spreading between you two.

‘Just so you know, I think flowers are overrated too, unless they grow in a field.’ you turn around and properly take him in for the first time since opening the door. 

You can’t believe he’s really here. Standing in your apartment. And he seems to think the same thing. As much as you both were overconfident that night you met, fueled by a bit of alcohol and the excitement of the unknown, you don’t know where to start, or rather where to continue now. His hands seem restless, yours are dying to touch him.

‘Glass of wine?’ you ask because you can’t think of anything else and maybe a few sips will calm your nerves.

‘Sure, thanks.’ he answers as he shrugs off his jacket and you turn to get glasses from the cupboard. 

By the time you have opened and poured the wine, he has wandered over to your bookshelf, scanning the contents. You watch as his fingertips glide over the spines of books, and you can’t explain why it makes your heart beat so much faster all of a sudden. With the glasses in hand you join him, handing him his just as he pulls out Kierkegaard.

‘I don’t know if I’m amused or shocked.’ he looks at you, one eyebrow raised. 

‘And why’s that?’

‘What’s your field of law again?’

‘I never said.’ you challenge him.

He takes a sip of wine and his eyes stare into yours. Damn you, you think.

‘Well can I guess then?’ 

‘Go ahead.’

‘Human Rights.'

Fuck, he is good. Or you’re just too obvious. Your law books aren’t even on this shelf.

‘You figured that out from me reading Kierkegaard?’

‘Oh no. I just really appreciate philosophy.’ 

You purse your lips and he cocks his head and it’s a game you’re playing now it seems. If that first time you told him not to tease, teasing is now all you are both doing. His face is entirely too close to yours and you notice a slight sunburn across his nose, a few freckles dancing there, his lashes too unfairly long for a man as he looks down into your eyes. 

‘Philosophy me this then, Mister. You really couldn’t stop thinking about me?’ your voice is low and you can tell the effect it has on him.

‘Hmm. You left me with quite the thoughts.’ he says, in the same low voice.

‘Can’t imagine what you mean.’ you smirk up at him, putting your glass down on the bookshelf next to his.

He smiles and puts a finger under your chin, raising your head slightly. 

‘I mean….’ he takes a deep breath. ‘I thought about you day and night, wondering what you were doing, what you were eating, drinking, dreaming about. Whether you were feeling happy or sad, stressed or relaxed. What kind of music you were listening to, what kind of books you were reading, what kind of clothes you were wearing. If you were wearing the same perfume you wore the night we met. Whether you preferred the rain of the last few days or if you were hoping for sunshine and the heat. What you were thinking about while waiting in line at the coffee shop. If you were thinking about me? If you were counting down the days hoping I would call, or if you regretted that night? And if you were thinking about me, were you thinking about the way I touched you, the way I kissed you, the way I fucked you? Did you touch yourself thinking about me? Because I did. I got hard the second the thought of you entered my mind.’ 

His mouth is behind your ear now and you are a mess. You are holding back a moan, choked up in your throat. He has once again managed to reduce you to a complete wreck, a dampness spreading between your legs. 

‘Sounds intense.’ you exhale and he smiles as he picks you up, your hands wrapping around his neck, legs around his waist.

You finally find yourself kissing him deeply, his strong arms holding you so tightly you can feel his heartbeat hammering against you. 

‘Just so we’re clear…I never regretted it for one second.’ you say it with every inch of your soul before slipping your tongue into his hot mouth, a moan rumbling within him. 

‘Anything else you wanna clear up? Maybe like…you thinking about me too…and y’know. Touching yourself?’ he tickles your sides and you shriek, punching his arms playfully.

‘Wouldn’t you like to know.’ you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

Somehow you manage to make your way into your bedroom and he puts you down on your bed, his body on top of yours. Your kisses are becoming more intense by the second, your hands sneaking under his shirt, feeling his warm skin, so desperate for more contact. But you have other plans. Pushing him off of you, you crawl back on the bed, telling him ‘Stay there.’ as he attempts to follow. He looks confused but does as you say, an undeniable look of excitement on his face for whatever awaits him. 

You really can’t believe what you’re about to do. But you know it’s gonna make him lose his mind and that is what you set out to do. So you reach under your dress, slowly pulling off your panties before throwing them in his face. He gasps, taking the piece of clothing like it’s a treasure he just unearthed and brings it up to his face, inhaling your scent. You bite your lip, watching him, knowing it’s just step one on his way to absolute unraveling.

Sensuously, you let your hand glide over your body, still just over the fabric of your dress while the other one releases your hair from the bun, letting it fall loose over your shoulders. He doesn’t even blink watching you, just stares at you in utter fascination. There’s a bulge growing in his jeans, you can tell, and god, does it make you feel special. Here’s this breathtakingly gorgeous man and all he wants is you.

‘So, you wanna know if I thought about you, hmm?’ your hand slips under your dress. ‘About that night? About your tongue tasting me? About your fingers exploring me? About your beautiful, big cock inside my wet little pussy? About how you were the best fuck of my life? The only man to ever make my earth shake like that?’ your legs spread a little but still not enough for him to see you. Somehow he’s not trying to, his eyes are fixated on yours, his mouth slightly agape, and you can hear his breathing getting heavier. ‘You wanna know how many times I’ve touched myself thinking about you, wishing you were inside me again? I’ve lost count. I’ve moaned your name into my pillow so many times, Dominick. Dominick. Dominick.’ 

Now you let him see. And he inches closer to you as you rub your clit in small circles, so wet already. He moans your name back at you. Watching you as you insert two fingers into your soaked pussy and start pumping in and out slowly, whimpering with pleasure and you can tell he’s about to fully lose it, it turns you on so much, making you shiver with lust. 

‘And I pretended it’s you. But it could never feel as good. You really fucked me up, baby. You really did.’ you sound almost mad and he catches it, pulling you close as you withdraw from yourself.

‘I’m sorry.’ he apologizes and kisses you again and you claw at his shirt, nearly tearing it off within a second, followed by his jeans while he does the same with your dress. ‘I’m sorry.’ he says again, lips down your neck, across your collarbone. ‘I’m sorry.’

And it’s both of you who unravel. And you knew this was gonna happen. Because yes, he fucked you up but you fucked him up just as badly. 

‘I’m sorry too.’ you whisper, running your fingers through his soft hair as he continues to place kisses downwards, his mouth closing around your nipple, tongue sneaking out to tease. Your back arches and his large hands grab your waist, not even a piece of paper could fit between your bodies. It’s so intimate, and he’s not even inside you yet. He’s in no rush you can tell although he’s as hard as he can get, pressing against your thigh, a wet spot forming on your skin there. It doesn’t matter, he’s lost in you, you’re lost in him. 

When he finally slips inside you, you almost pass out at the sensation, wrapping your legs around his hips to get his full length as deep as possible. He groans into your neck, not moving for a second just letting himself melt with you.

‘Please.’ you whisper in his ear and your voice is shaking and he slowly starts moving, dragging out every thrust. 

‘Fuck.’ he breathes. ‘Longest two weeks of my life.’ and you stare into his eyes with a sheepish grin. 

It’s the hottest sight, Dominick on top of you, moving in and out of you, and you don’t know where to put your hands. His beautiful face, his warm chest, his toned arms, his strong shoulders, his tight ass, you really want all of him at once. And then this feeling he’s giving you where you are joined, his cock dragging along your tight walls, one hand reaching down because he knows how much you like it when his fingers play with your clit. 

‘S-so g-goooood. So fucking good.’ you moan, clenching around him and he furrows his brow in an almost serious way at the sensation of you squeezing him. 

‘You like it when I do that, hmm, babe?’ you ask, wiping a loose curl of hair from his face and he nods, kissing you sloppily. 

And you do it again, and again. As much as you enjoy this slow rhythm, you are dying for him to pick up the pace a little, and this does the trick. He grabs one of your legs and hitches it up higher, opening you wider to him, fucking into you deeper and slightly harder. You let out a loud moan as he hits that spot within you.

‘Is this what you wanted, my sweet?’ and you smirk and affirm. It’s not long before you begin to shudder, whining his name as he presses his sweaty forehead against yours. ‘You really are so beautiful when you cum. All I wanna do is make you cum.’ 

He flicks his thumb over your clit again, pumping his dick so deep inside you, you lose all control over yourself. His eyes are staring into yours and that feeling you get scares you a little but it is all too much now, you have no time to think.

‘Cum for me. I wanna feel you cum. I love how you get even tighter around me when you do. How you shake. No more moaning my name into your pillow all by yourself. I’m here. I’m right here. I’m all yours. Cum for me, baby.’ He thrusts into you again and you uncoil. 

‘Fuck! Dominick!’ you moan, clinging to him as you pulse and shudder with your orgasm. 

He holds you and kisses you and continues to move in and out of you slowly, disregarding the chase for his own pleasure to revel in yours, to extend it even. This man. You cry out in pleasure, he has once again managed to lure the most intense climax from you, and you already know it won’t be the only one tonight. He hasn’t cum yet, it’s like he is holding back and while it makes him the sexiest man on the planet it also makes you want to make him cum even more. So you press your hands against his chest and push him off you, his eyes widen in surprise as you straddle him.

‘Okay.’ he grins up at you as you slowly lower yourself on his cock, letting him sink into you. ‘Jeez.’ he gasps and you feel even fuller in this position. 

‘Any last words?’ you smile down on him and he pushes up into you without a warning, making you squeal. ‘Don’t you dare!’ you raise a finger. 

‘You know where you can put that.’ he pokes his tongue out at you and you glare at him in shock before putting your hand over his mouth. 

‘If you don’t shut up I’ll make you wait another two weeks.’ he immediately stays silent, a serious expression on his face as you smile triumphantly and start moving on his throbbing cock. 

‘You don’t mean that.’ he blinks his eyes shut, pleasure taking over as you feel his thighs tense under you. 

‘Please, I wouldn’t survive.’ you reply and his eyes flutter open again, a soft smile on his lips. 

He grabs your hips, gently guiding your movements as you run your hands up and down his torso. ‘You’re gorgeous.’ you whisper and can’t believe he blushes. ‘What? Has no one ever told you that before?’ You drag him in and out of you slowly. 

‘Not like that.’ he pauses. ‘I was always the lanky, skinny kid and girls tended to go for the quarterbacks.’ He looks perfect to you. 

‘Well, I bet they never got dick like this from their quarterbacks.’ you shrug and he giggles until you make him moan again, rolling your hips back and forth a little faster. 

From the way his hands are moving over your body you can tell he’s getting close. They’re restlessly looking for a place to settle, or a place they haven’t touched yet; up your sides, over your breasts, cupping them gently, squeezing, down your stomach to your pussy, over your thighs. You’re close to your next climax too and you know just the thing to send you both over the edge. While you move up and down his cock, you guide your hand down your pussy and start rubbing your clit, Dominick watching you with heavy eyes. 

‘You like what you see, baby?’ 

He can only nod, and the sight of him watching you with his head pressed into the pillow, biting his lip, is so fucking hot. Poor boy is so close but you don’t want to pick up the pace. You’re dragging his cock in and out, painfully slow, circling your clit with your index and middle finger. 

‘Dominick, you feel so good.’ you moan, arching your back, he has the best view of you riding him. 

‘God, you are gonna make me lose it.’ his breath quickens. 

‘Lose it, baby.’ you squeeze his cock with your walls, the beginnings of your orgasm crashing over your body like waves. 

You sit up again and withdraw your fingers from yourself, only to offer them to him and he opens his mouth to taste them, taste you, hungrily. He jerks his hips up, slamming into you, and cums hard, releasing himself inside you with a shudder and the sexiest moan. Your pussy clenches around him as you literally ride out both of your orgasms, the two of you still shaking as he pulls you down onto him. And it’s some kind of insanity just how badly you want to take everything of him in at this moment, even though there’s not much more left to take in. Somehow you still want more of him. More. His lips are on your neck and yours are in his hair and you take in his scent, his heavenly scent that is now on your pillow, in your bed. Your bed. 

You’re breathless and giggling and it’s warm and comfortable although you’re exhausted. 

‘You don’t mind if I spend the night, do you?’ he asks, stroking your back.

Your brain is yelling at you to be careful. That you don’t really want this. That it’s just the endorphins or whatever. It’s nice to be wanted, it’s nice to be taken care of by a man like him, a man who knows how to touch a woman. To make a woman feel special. But you don’t want the complications of something more. Something serious. So you tell yourself, it doesn’t have to be like that. It can still be nice without it being serious. You will be careful. While still enjoying it.

‘Not at all.’ you say, snuggling up to his warm body.

And you ignore the unraveling. 

[thegeek-s]

38. Night of the Living Ex

PREVIOUSLY: Lizzy and Jerry are finally done beating around the bush and now entering the tender honeymoon stage of a new relationship – or at least getting ready to, as soon as Jerry meets up with his ex Dee and gets closure on his old relationship; Kat has a self-professed fiasco at the bookshop interview and takes her bad mood out on Lizzy, while Gwen starts her internship at the Mexican embassy and looks forward to celebrating her new endeavor on the weekend; Eva, as always, is sinking deeper and deeper into textbook, espresso, and basketball induced exhaustion.

What am I going to say to her? I mean, I guess you start with a ‘hi’ but what the fuck are we gonna talk about? We’re not together anymore, we’re not really friends either… And why am I just now thinking about that!? I guess this whole time, the idea of seeing Dee again was overshadowed by the fact that it’s something Lizzy wanted me to do; I wasn’t so much thinking about the actual semantics of seeing my ex when I was agreeing to it… That’s kind of fucked up. But…maybe healthy, actually? Like, I am truly over Dee and my heart really is with Lizzy…right? I definitely do feel like I’m ready for commitment and I’m not just jumping from the slowly sunken ship that was my relationship with Dee.

Now though, as I’m pacing around the entrance to this dingy coffee shop at the edge of Seattle, waiting for Dee to show up literally any second… Now, I feel like I’m going on a first date. Not in the romantic or sexual kind of way, but in how nervous I am.

I haven’t seen her since Christmas, since we were together. Together? I guess we hadn’t been really together since she moved to Colorado… And we never got together on that trip either… But at least then we were both fully committed to acting as though it was all gonna work out, like we even had any relationship left to speak of. Now, six months later, I’m not sure what to expect…

What if Dee’s not coping well? I mean, I was her first serious, long term boyfriend… What if she’s in rough shape? That would make me feel like shit. I mean, I don’t think that’s the case but…what if it is? I just can’t help but feel like I need to be ready for it…

“Jerry!”

I stop in my track, halfway through the invisible figure ‘8’ I’ve been etching into the sidewalk, and look over my shoulder. My eyes take a second to confirm it really is who it is, as if I wasn’t expecting to see my ex waving at me as she jogs across the street.

“Hey,” I say, as she steps over to me, and then reciprocate her hug with a single arm. The hug feels like force of habit more than anything else.

I am stricken though by how she smells just like I remember; it feels weird for some reason. Of course she’s not going to start buying new laundry detergent, deodorant, and shampoo because we broke up, but it’s just weird; she smells like my girlfriend did, but she’s become more of a total stranger lately. I had gotten so used to the “long distance” part before the “relationship” by the time we ended it, that I never even thought about how it’s meant that I never worry about running into her like other people and their exes do. Because she doesn’t live here anymore, we get to control when we see each other. I guess that’s a good thing.

“How’s it going?” She holds my gaze and I take in her new haircut: she went from shoulder-length waves to hair that just hits her jaw. I liked it better before…not that it matters.

“Doing well, how ‘bout yourself?”

Out of the blue, she giggles, then shakes her head as I watch her, puzzled. “I’m doing well, Jerry.”

“After you,” I pull the coffee shop door open for her.

The whole time we’re looking at the drink menu (turns out it’s a coffee shop and a bar) and talking to the bartenders, and finding a table to sit at…I’m trying to figure out what I’m going to say to her. If I’m being totally honest, I kind of want to call her out on saying that I was distant and checked out… But at the same time, does that even matter? I’m not trying to get back together so whether I was or wasn’t checked out is a moot point.

“This is strange, huh?” Dee doesn’t beat around the bush as we both pull up chairs at a window table. “Seeing each other like this…”

“I mean,” I breathe out a hollow laugh, really just trying to buy myself some time, “we were gonna see each other at one point or another.” That’s not true. For all I know, I was literally never going to see her again. Seattle is not a small town, so even if she ever moved back we still might never run into each other. That’s a weird thought…

“Here’s those two lattes,” a waiter drops off two cups on our table; I figured coffee was the way to go. It is after five so an alcoholic beverage wouldn’t have been an outrageous choice but it just didn’t feel…appropriate for the occasion.

“So, how’ve you been? How’s school?” I say a moment later because Dee goes to blow and sip on her coffee the second we’re alone at our table; like she’s waiting for me to lead this closure meeting.

“Well, I’m done with classes but I have finals in about ten days… Problem is, Colorado is super nice this time of year already. It’s sunny there all. The. Time,” she goes on and for a second it feels like nothing’s changed, it’s just like hanging out before… “It’s actually going to be way easier for me to focus on studying out here than back there.” Except that…has she picked up an accent? The way she said ‘super’… Super. Yeah, yeah, Colorado is super nice, whatever. Let’s just get this over with so I can go hang out with Lizzy…

I realize she stopped talking only a couple seconds after she does. Oops… She breathes out a dry laugh and shakes her head as I lift my hands up as if in defense. “Look, Dee,” I start, still not sure how I’m going to end it… “I just… I hope you know that you were a wonderful girlfriend and that what we had was—”

“Yes, yes, of course I know, Jerry! Gosh, I just… I just wanted to apologize to you for breaking up over a phone message…” Dee finally gets her words out and for a moment, I can find none to respond.

“Honestly Dee,” I breathe out a laugh, “Somebody had to end it. I think you were just more ballsy than me. As you’ve always been, confident and sure in yourself.”

“Thanks…” She gives me a relieved smile before going back to her coffee. “You really think so? That it was going to end one way or another?”

“I mean… We were great before you went off to college—And I’m not trying to imply it’s your fault for leaving…”

“Sure.”

“It’s just so far…”

“It’s very different,” she bobs her head slowly. “Everyone’s very different there from here… I just really…” She trails off with a shrug.

“I think we were both a little naïve to tell ourselves that things wouldn’t change after such a big move.”

“Yeah… Your life’s here and mine is over there now.”

“Yeah… It’s okay though, it’s fine,” I assure her. I can tell that she feels bad about wanting to break up and move on. I know her enough to gather that much.

“And you’re really not just saying that?”

“Swear to God.”

“Okay… Jerry, I’ve also been thinking that I should probably tell you something… I’m dating someone,” there’s palpable tentativeness in her voice now.

As in, I have been dating someone? Or just now am? “Cool, um… Like… How l—”

“I met him a month after we broke up, I promise. It’s just been going on for about three weeks now, we haven’t even had sex actually,” she assures me so vigorously, it nearly gives me whiplash. I believe her. I’ve never felt like I couldn’t trust Dee since the day I met her and she’s never given me reason not to.

“Good,” I finally croak out, my throat dry as desert all of a sudden. “I mean!” I wave my arms and laugh in a panic; then clear my throat and reiterate: “I’m glad to hear that you’re dating someone new, genuinely.” I just didn’t expect that at all.

“Thanks, Jerry,” Dee holds my gaze a second longer than needed, as if to let me know she really means it. And I really am glad! Sure, on one hand, it feels weird…but it’s good. The fact that both of us are moving on and that we’re able to meet up today and have this talk… That’s really great. She should have sex with the guy though. I mean, why not?..

“I’ve been seeing someone too…” I take the chance and admit as well.

“Oh?” Dee inhales sharply.

“Bad ‘oh’?” I can tell it is.

“I just didn’t…expect that. So fast. This whole time I thought you were so apprehensive about breaking up…”

What!? So fast?? She literally just told me she’s been seeing someone for almost a month now and we only broke up two months ago! “I was,” I still assure her very eagerly, for some reason. It’s her who broke up with me, anyway. I have nothing to feel guilty about!

“Yeah, I guess I felt like I was being a bitch, breaking up over the phone and stuff. I didn’t realize you didn’t really care anyway and that you’d have moved on so quickly.”

“Kind of a harsh way to word that, maybe?”

“I mean, it is what it is. So, is it anyone I know?” She asks, obviously trying to sound nonchalant.

“No.”

A silent pause falls between us as Dee looks at me with some kind of misplaced expectation, and I take big gulps of my coffee and then try to act like they didn’t just burn the shit out of my throat. “No? You’re not going to tell me who it is?” She finally asks.

“What, you really wanna discuss my new girlfriend?” I ask maybe a touch more bitterly than I intended.

“Girlfriend? So you’re not just seeing her, you’re actually together?”

“You know me, I’m a serial monogamist,” I shrug uncomfortably. And what the fuck, she just told me she’s been seeing someone for pretty much the whole last month! “It’s very new,” I tell her.

“Does she know where you are right now?”

“Yes. She wanted me to see you.”

“Well damn…” Dee hangs her head momentarily with a sigh. “I— I’m happy for you.” She sounds a million times softer suddenly. I guess she just remembered that she broke up with me, too.

“Thanks.”

“I really am. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have reacted like I just did…”

“No worries. I’m just really happy for us both.”

“So… Is that it then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Case closed?” She offers me a shaky smile. “We’re good? And we’re done. And I just have an ex-boyfriend who gave me the world’s healthiest closure.”

“Yeah…” I breathe out a laugh. I guess so.

“Should we toast to both our separate happinesses then?” She beams. I’m about to point out that she’s not twenty-one yet but before I get the chance, she tells me she has a fake ID, “from Colorado. So they probably wouldn’t even know what a real one looks like around here.”

“You know, sure!”

I flag down the waiter and we end up ordering two beers and two shots of tequila. Actually, I’m not really sure how the tequila got ordered… I think Dee was about to go for something fancy, like sparkling wine or something, at the same time that I asked for two beers… Dee said something about beer not being something you toast with… And now we’re here.

“So how’s everyone doing?” Dee puts her elbows up on the table and asks me in a tone that sounds way more at ease than anything she had said up to this point.

* * *

“Norwegian Wood is the only decent Beatles song,” Mark tells me after I’ve just expressed excitement over You’re Gonna Lose That Girl that we just cut short on the car radio right as Gwen pulled into a parking spot.

“That’s a lofty accusation,” Kat says while climbing out of the passenger seat, which she insisted on occupying by yelling ‘shotgun’ at the top of her lungs; the girl is clearly unable to waste a good argument.

“I have to agree with her,” I tell Mark who holds the door open for me to follow him out of the car. Partially because I don’t want to get on Kat’s bad side again, she’s been in some type of mood lately and I just don’t want to deal with her outbursts…but also because I really don’t agree with Mark. “Honestly, Norwegian Wood is probably one of my least favorite Beatles songs. But of course you’d like that one…”

“Really, Lizzy,” he gives me some kind of a knowing look. “You know they ripped off a bunch of Black people, right?”

“Not nearly as many as Elvis did. Besides, punk was ripped off of Black musicians, too, I’m sure you’ve heard of that,” I smirk at him, because for once I have something to say that really seems to humble him, judging by the gasp in place of a verbal response.

“How do you know that? I thought you have a filter that comes over your ears whenever punk is played— or mentioned,” he falls into step with me, Kat, and Gwen as we walk into the bar. “You do know that Beatles also ripped everything off from Pink Floyd, right?” He moves on to pester Kat and I leave them to their dizzying discussion.

It doesn’t take our little group long before we run into some of our UW friends: we stumble upon a group of people getting drinks at the bar counter. After a loud minute of hugging and saying our hi’s, I hear Kat say:

“Arm, this Julian. You sent me on that scavenger hunt to retrieve his pedal that time… Julian,” she motions her hand way closer to Mark’s face than necessary, “Mark Arm, my very weird neighbor.” Very weird? What kind of a thing is that to say about someone? Julian doesn’t seem to be bothered by it though. He just laughs, making his jet black curls bounce around his face.

“You could have at least made it sparkling,” Gwen nods at a plastic cup of wine I was just handed by the bartender. “You know, to celebrate?”

“I really like this wine…”

“You guys drinking wine?” Mark cranes his neck at us while simultaneously elbowing his way to the bar counter.

At this, Gwen sloshes a sip of her sparkling wine in her mouth and gargles it in her throat for a second before swallowing. “This was my first week at a job where there’s not a drop of alcohol, Mark.”

“Ah… Lowered tolerance…” He mumbles at her, eyes full of nothing short of awe.

“Anyway, it’s also the one wine Jerry actually really likes—”

“Lizzy, for the love of God,” Gwen interrupts me with a deep sigh. “Can we please not talk about your boyfriend for at least one night?”

“Are you talking about Jerry again?? Guys,” Kat pops up next to us with the same kind of exhale I just heard from Gwen.

“That’s what I’m saying! This is my night and I make the rules so, Lizzy… No Jerry talk tonight.”

I hear a string of indignant huffs and puffs come out of my own mouth as I gape at my blonde friend but she just laughs. “I don’t talk about him that much…”

“You really do.”

“And it’s okay,” Gwen quickly adds to Kat’s dry statement. “Just maybe not tonight? Or… Are you worried about him meeting up with his ex?”

“What? No! Of course not! I know I have nothing to worry about.” I really do. At least I think so. I mean, I’m not worried, actually. I just kinda wish…he’d be here instead. Not really, I like that he’s meeting up with Dee and getting closure, but I just…I miss him. Ah, I missed this feeling!

“Where’s Eva? Is she coming separately?” Our friend Nadia turns to our little group while waiting for her change and drink.

“She’s at home,” Gwen says.

“Studying,” I add.

“Or making toast in the bathtub…”

“Kat!” Gwen laughs. “No, yeah… She’s been really stressed and tired.”

“Oh, bummer…” Nadia crinkles her nose. “Well you girls need to take care of her…” She trails off and turns away again as the bartender retrieves her attention.

“We probably really should do something,” Kat bobs her head.

“We should throw her a party, bring some fun into her life!”

“Yeah, more like an intervention party, Lizzy. Real parties require energy which Eva’s got none of,” Gwen sips on her drink.

* * *

I think I’ve only had three glasses…maybe four? Of sparkling wine when I notice a warm bubbly tipsy feeling take over my whole body. I guess my tolerance really has gone down… Not that I drank that much on my bartending shifts. I guess it all adds up though. It’s also probably the stress of getting into the groove of a new job. Honestly, I feel great, I’m loving this change of pace, but it seems my body really needed to take a break and loosen up a bit.

Somehow I find myself listening to Lizzy talking about Jerry again… This time, telling Nadia all about some conversation from the other night… That I’m pretty sure she’s already heard. So I order another drink…my fifth glass, I guess? “You guys wanna go dance?” I ask my friends to the sound of some synthesizer-heavy song that played on the radio non-stop about five years ago; but Lizzy declines very sweetly, since she’s in the middle of her riveting story… So I head towards the middle of the barroom, but before I can join the sea of dancers I notice somebody making a beeline towards me from the corner of my eye. Fuck.

“Hey you,” Mike strides up to me with a shitty little smirk on his face. Just my luck, of course he’s drinking the night away at the same bar.

“Hi?”

“Um… I saw you from over there,” he nods his head somewhere behind him, “and I just wanted to come say hi.”

“Okay. Hi.”

“You look good.”

“Thanks, I know.” I don’t know why I just said that. I guess I just don’t want him to have anything of mine, like I know I look good, you don’t get to tell me that. Fuck off.

He laughs though, the kind of laugh that tells me he thinks I’m being playful with him. “You been doing good?”

“Yeah, I’ve been doing fine.” I make a point to not ask him back; I don’t care.

“I heard you work at the fuckin’ Mexican embassy??” Mike raises his eyebrows and nods with a huge smile.

“Where did you hear that?”

“Give you three guesses?” He snorts. Of course it was Jerry. Right.

“Right… You know, the fact that our friends are dating, doesn’t make you and me friends.”

“Ouch…”

“What do you mean, ouch?!” I laugh out. “Seriously, we don’t have to do this. I don’t have a problem with Lizzy dating Jerry, same as I don’t have an interest in him, or his social life, or his friends… Any more than what I have to hear about it from Lizzy. Which is a lot actually…”

Mike chuckles and sways on his feet, his hands in his jeans pockets, obviously trying to look some type of way. I really don’t care about him anymore. I’m not even that rattled to see him so unexpectedly. And granted, maybe that’s just the alcohol in me, but it doesn’t change anything. Actually, I’m kind of glad he knows I’m at the embassy now; that I’m moving on and moving forward in life. He can no longer find me at the bar whenever he pleases.

“That’s fair. Jerry talks about her a lot, too. It’s always Lizzy this, Lizzy that…”

“Yeah. I’m happy for them.” God, how did I end up on the topic of Jerry, again!?

“I miss you, Gwen. I’m not just saying that, I mean it, and… I know that’s probably not what you want to hear and I wasn’t going to say it, but you look at me like that…” Like what? Like you’re a cockroach on my kitchen floor? Huh? “…and your eyes disarm me. I’ve missed you a lot, genuinely.” 

“I really can’t say the same.”

“Understandable response.” Oh? Now he understands? “Look… I just wanted to say… I’m really sorry.”

Wow. Just like that. No conditions, no justifications, just a ‘sorry’. I have to say, I’m a little impressed. “Thanks,” is all I say though because what else is there to say. “I appreciate it,” I add after a moment.

“I’m really not trying to cause trouble here,” he lifts his hands defensively. “I just wanted to make things right… As right as I can, anyway…”

“Okay…”

“Yeah…” We both fall silent for a long moment, just looking at each other. Honest to God, I really don’t feel anything anymore towards him. How liberating. “You wanna dance?”

“Oh so you like dancing now?”

“You made me like it. It’s all thanks to you, really. Come on,” he reaches out his elbow and nudges me lightly. “Just until the song’s over and then I’ll be gone.”

I mean… I was going to dance anyway. And if nothing else, maybe this will show him just how much I don’t care and that I am in fact over him. His presence doesn’t fluster or excite me, he’s just another guy at a bar who asks me to dance. “Sure.”

Although the song is very much not a good fit for it, Mike manages to work a couple of salsa moves in, which I can’t help but admire. Almost seems like he’s a better and more enthusiastic dancer now than he was when I had to drag him to dance classes with me. Before I know it, he’s holding my hand and spinning me, and as the song comes to an end, he tugs at my arm and twirls me into his embrace, and…kisses me! And it just feels like a fun moment that, for a second, makes me forget who he is, I swear, and I kiss him back, I even put my hands on the back of his neck!

“Wait, no! I can’t do this!” I finally recoil. Ugh, what an idiot! Him! And me!

“It’ll be different this time, I promise,” Mike tries to keep his hands on my waist but I pull away.

“What? There will be nothing, there is no ‘this time’,” I frown at him. I mean, seriously?!

“Look, I know you can have any guy you want but if we just gave this one more chance—”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I’m…seeing someone.” Okay, we’ll go with that. “It’s not only that I don’t want to, I can’t. We’re over, Mike. I’m serious.”

“What?” He blinks at me. “Look, I understand your apprehension but I swear—”

“What do you think I just said? You want me to repeat it??”

“What I think is that you’re not actually seeing anyone,” his expression switches up into a put now, “you’re just playing hard to get to teach me a lesson…” Oh god.

“Please, not everything revolves around you.”

“Then why did you kiss me if you’re with someone?”

“I don’t know, I wonder if it could be same reason you fucked Krsitine…” I pretend to be deep in thought; and I can tell this comment really rattles him. “How does that whole thing go again? I tripped and my lips touched yours; you tripped and cheated… Right?”

“Come on…”

“Come on what?!”

“I already apologized. You have no idea how shitty I feel about that.” Oh you poor fucking thing. Give me a break. “And I get that everything doesn’t revolve around me, believe me,” Mike’s voice softens all of a sudden. Ugh. “I know you’re not just gonna come running back to me so easy. I know I have to put the work in, I know—”

“I’m not running back to you at all, easy or hard. Save yourself the time and effort.”

“Okay, wrong choice of words…”

“Look, unless you have something actually important to say to me, I’m gonna go find my friends.”

“So where’s this guy you’re seeing then? You’re not here with him, conveniently?” He looks impatient now.

“I am. And with my friends,” I fold my arms across my chest.

“So what’s his name then?”

“Why do you care? You want to stalk him or something?” I scrunch my nose because what else can I do??

“Seriously, Gwen, you can drop the act…” Mike trails off looking somewhere past me and I turn around to see why: Kristine just walked into the bar.

“Okay, well, I’m gonna go now.” I hold my open palm out at him to really drive the point home as I turn on my heel; point being that this conversation is over.

I walk away to the sound of his stuttering about how she means nothing and how what we had was real. I try my best to not start full on running but I do want to get away from him as fast as possible. Without thinking, I head in the directions of the restrooms and luckily spot one of my girls.

“You need to smuggle me out of here, right now!”

“Wh- why?” Kat stutters, peach in one hand, using the other to clumsily catch its juice dribbling down her chin. She claims that eating fruit on nights out keeps her from having a hangover the next morning but sometimes I think it’s really just some weird social anxiety compulsion of hers, like smoking or biting nails.

“Because… I just made out with Mike a little!” I whisper shout.

“Mike…McCready?”

“Who?”

“Oh, I just met him, he’s a friend of Stone’s—”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!”

“Mike McCready…” She shrugs and takes another bite of the fruit as if this is not an absolute emergency.

“I meant Mike Starr, you fuckin’ pumpkin head!”

“You said… A little? Can you defi—”

“KAT.”

“Yeah. Mike Starr. I had a feeling…” She gives me an outright bereaved look. “I just didn’t want to believe that you’re that fuckin’ dumb, Gwen.”

“Katie, now is not the time! You can give me a thirty minute presentation on all the reason that was a stupid thing to do later, but it’s done! So can you be a friend and help me? I’m fuckin’ panicking! I mean, what do I do??”

I can practically see Kat swallow her pride, and I love this girl for that. “So we need to leave?” She still continues to eat her damn peach.

“Either that or you find me a fake boyfriend real quick because I told Mike I have one and that he’s here…”

“And…then you made out..?”

“KAT!”

“Alright, sorry… Boyfriend… I have an idea actually, don’t go anywhere…” She pulls out a napkin from her pocket and walks away quickly while wrapping the chewed up stone of her peach in it, and I think I hear her mumble something like ‘there’s many boys around here who could be friends…’ Oh god.

* * *

Shit… How did I get so drunk? How did we get so drunk, is the question, by the looks of it… Dee is currently on stage… Turns out, this place is a karaoke bar on Fridays too… She’s curtsying at the end of a pretty bad rendition of Fast Car…although I think Dee herself thinks she did pretty well, judging by the smirk on her face as she comes back to her stool at the bar, where we’ve relocated after toasting that first shot, finishing our beers, and having another round of tequila…

“You know, we could have been a country duo!” She beams at me as she sits down. “Oh gosh, please don’t take this as… I really like this guy I’m seeing, I really think a relationship could grow from it.”

“Understood,” I nod slightly, amused by her flustered moment.

“But,” she starts before looking up directly into my eyes. “I meant it when I said I’ll probably always love you, you know. Our love was not the kind of thing you stumble upon or get over easily… I think I’ll carry the memories of us for the rest of my life.”

“I mean, you’ll always have a special place in my heart, Dee…” Fuck. I don’t think I should be driving home tonight. I’ll take a bus…or walk. Damn, how did I get this drunk? “I’m happy we can part ways on good terms, you know. I’d hate to think that I broke your heart or left you with some unresolved hurt, you know…”

“Let’s toast to that!” She proclaims while already trying to flag down the bartender but I grab her arm and pull it back down, laughing.

“Maybe enough toasting?”

“Come on! You’ve always been a partyer! Maybe I want in on it too… After all, we might never see each other again after tonight…” She sways on her seat ever so gently and I concede.

We order another round of tequila shots, clink our little glasses together, do the whole salt and lime thing��� And when Dee goes to place her now empty shot glass on the counter, her hand misses it entirely and the little thing falls to the floor instead, which causes a wave of giggles.

We both bend over to pick the glass up at the same time but end up bumping our heads together instead. “Ouch!” Dee frowns with another giggle and I instinctively grab the sides of her head with my hands, peering at her forehead expecting to see some blood.

“Shit, ow, that fucking hurt…” I automatically go to push a strand of her hair back to make sure she really is okay… And this feels like the old times… Just the simple act of touching her face, of looking into her eyes… It’s almost as if we’re back together. But we’re not, and that’s okay, that’s totally fine. I wouldn’t want things any other way than they are now.

Regardless, I’m not too quick to move my hands from the sides of her face, probably because I’m not too quick to do or react to anything, thanks to alcohol… And then I realize her gaze has dropped to my mouth… Then she looks into my eyes again, then my mouth… And then she leans in and kisses me.

“Dee, no…” I pull away, not too vigorously though either. I just don’t know what to do, I don’t want to complicate things, I don’t want to hurt anyone…

“I’m sorry,” she sits up straight all of a sudden, looking way more sober than a moment ago. “I’m really happy with this guy… His name is Nick, and he’s really cool and I like him a lot, he’s a rock climber, and he snowboards, and… Seeing you is so strange… I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay, Dee. I understand,” I assure her and watch my own hands reach for hers. “It is strange, meeting up again and having to just say goodbye…”

“It just feels like we didn’t really get to say goodbye… We never even had sex on winter break, for crying out loud,” she lets out an exasperated sounding sigh.

Uh… I’m not really in the market for break up sex but how on earth do I communicate that without sounding like a complete douchebag?? I really can’t come up with any words so I just laugh, probably obviously pretty uncomfortably. “Hey, uh… It’s getting pretty late…”

She holds my gaze for another moment, then sighs, and nods her head. “Can you drive me to my parents’? I really don’t think I can drive myself at this point…”

“I don’t think I should be driving either. We can go find a cab?”

“Will you split it with me? I don’t wanna be alone with some stranger,” she drawls as she gets up from the bar stool, holding onto the edge of the counter as she does.

“Yeah, of course.”

It feels like the whole night screeches to a halt in the next ten minutes. That whole time, as we walk outside and find a taxi cab, neither of us says a single word. Shit, we shouldn’t have drank that much. It was going so well and now we’re probably both verging on a hangover and bad decisions. I can tell Dee is…upset? I don’t know if that’s the right word… But I didn’t want us to part that way.

“Don’t forget to drink lots of water,” I tell her as she scoots into the middle of the back seat of a taxi car and buckles herself in, “when you get home.”

“I’ll miss you,” she gives me a tequila smile after another second of just looking at me. “Not in any kind of… I’ll just miss you as a person, Jerry. You’re a really good guy.”

“Hey now, it’s not like I’m dying…”

“It’s okay if you can’t say the same…”

“No, I will, I’ll miss you too, Dee,” I assure her as the cab driver swerves into traffic and turns the shitty music on the radio up just a touch. “How could I not?”

So this is really it. I’ll drop her off at her parents’ house and probably never see her again. It feels so abrupt somehow, which is ridiculous. This break up has been going on for a couple of months, from the moment she left me that voicemail… Hell, even way before that… Until now. And now it’s really going to be done and over.

“Can I just…” I feel Dee’s hand land on my thigh and watch her take a quick glance at the back of the driver’s head, who seems to be thoroughly uninterested in us. “Gosh, I’m so nervous… Can I just give you one last parting,” her hand moves to the waist of my jeans, right above the zipper, “gift?” She slowly drags her gaze up to meet my eyes. Fuck…

* * *

I had stepped outside to hide from Mike and have a cigarette while Kat executes whatever plan she had in mind, and as I’m coming back inside, I’m starting to feel like maybe I should have just left… I just don’t know that I trust Kat in…these kinds of matters… I mean, if I ever need to get rid of a body or fake my own death, she is number one on my list of accomplices, but this? Guys and relationships and all that kind of stuff? I don’t know what she’s planning on doing but I’m starting to feel a rumble of anxiety in the pit of my stomach… What if she gets Mark to play my fake boyfriend?? That would be terrible! I mean, Mike surely wouldn’t believe it. Not to mention the fact they know each other and probably run into each other on a regular basis. I mean, it would be perfect in the sense that Mike broke up both ours and Mark’s relationships; I bet it would really rattle him. But… I don’t know… God, I really hope that’s not what Kat’s doing.

I spot Mike out of the corner of my eye before I have time to find anyone else or to act busy in any way, so I pretend to not notice him and keep walking towards the bar counter. Before I reach it though, the serenely smiling, beer-carrying, leather jacket-wearing…Julian catches up with me first.

“Hey Gwen,” he hands me one of the bottles. “Kat sent me. She’s really indebted to me at this point…”

“Wh-what?”

“I’m your fake boyfriend for the night,” he offers me a goofy grin. I mean, he is really hot. He’s also really gay. And I hardly know him. Him and Kat have been friends since freshman year so I’ve known of him for a while, but I don’t think either of us has enough information about each other to successfully fake a relationship in front of Mike… And speaking of Mike, I realize he’s now made his way to the other end of the room and is leaning his back against the edge of the bar counter maybe some thirty feet away from us, and I can tell he’s watching us.

“So, what exactly was Kat’s grand plan here?”

“We’re making some guy jealous, right?”

“Yes, but how?”

“Well… If you’re okay with that, we’re going to make out a little.”

“What??”

“For the purposes of a jealous shitty ex strictly. Trust me, there’s not many women I’d even consider kissing.”

“Oh—Wh—Pff…” I steal a glance in Mike’s direction; the moment my eyes land on him, he actually looks away. Ha! Shit. Why the fuck did I let him kiss me?? So now I have to be kissed by Kat’s little gay friend! What a mess! “Okay, sure…”

“Sure?” He laughs and slowly moves closer. “I expect a bit more gratitude for my sacrifice.”

“Are you sure this is gonna work?”

“Well, your ex doesn’t know me so I don’t see how it wouldn’t. I don’t exactly have the word ‘gay’ imprinted on my forehead…”

“No, I mean…” I whisper as Julian moves his face even closer to mine. Actually, come to think of it, I’m sure we must look like a normal couple from outside. I mean, Mike has no clue what we’re talking about and our closeness and body language sure don’t look platonic. “Yeah, let’s do it. Thanks,” I add quickly before he pulls me into a kiss. And wow, I have to say, this guy is a far better kisser than Mike. I used to think that Mike was pretty great at it but this back to back comparison really leaves no doubt. God, I was so blind and confused…

After our little PDA spectacle, I grab Julian’s free hand and walk us to the bar, directly towards where Mike is. “Oh, hey,” I throw my ex a clueless grin, as if I had no idea he was here.

He’s got a snarl curving his lips, looking like he’d literally rather get swallowed by the earth than be here – a beautiful sight to behold, really.

“Care to join us for a drink?” I ask cheerfully. “Oh, this is Julian, by the way.”

Mike clicks his tongue with what I’m assuming is supposed to be some kind of a scornful look up and down Julian. “Nah. I’ve seen enough of this.”

“Seriously, any more and we’d have to charge you,” my fake boyfriend doesn’t miss a fucking beat!

“Fuck this noise…” Mike pushes away from the bar counter and strides off into the crowd of bar-goers.

“Highly unpleasant to even exist around…that,” Julian follows him with his gaze, “I mean, he’s pretty, I get what you liked about him. Very unpleasant energy though.”

“Tell me about it… Thanks,” I beam at him.

“Kat!” I basically run up to the girl a few minutes later, after buying Julian a gratitude drink, and I can tell she’s eager to find out how her plan went. “There you are, Kat! It worked!”

“It did??” She grins.

“Beautifully! Short and sweet.”

“Was he shattered by it?”

“Mortified, more like.”

“Wonderful. Now tell me my idea was brilliant because it was.”

“Julian would make a really hot straight guy,” I grin at her and lead the way into the restroom.

“I wish I’d seen Starr’s reaction but I thought me spying on you might ruin the credibility of it all.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t miss anything good.” I step around a girl trying to grab a piece of paper towel. “I just have a feeling he really wouldn’t have believed my boyfriend story unless he saw it. Like he probably thinks I really was just playing hard to get or trying to teach him a lesson before I inevitably take him back in.”

“Wow… What an arrogant shitrag.”

“What else is new? The door doesn’t lock,” I poke my head out from the stall I just entered and Kat obediently steps inside and leans her back against the said door to hold it shut. “It just pisses of me off that he’d think that though, you know? Like what the fuck?”

“Yeah, what the actual fuck…” Kat echoes with a crooked frown and a slow shake of her head.

“Like, really, he thinks I’m still not over him? Like he’s some special magic unicorn of a man or some shit? Seriously, darling, you need to come back down to earth if that’s what you think!” I roll my eyes as the words meant for my ex burst out of me.

“He never struck me as the sharpest tool in the shed. It’s always the most mediocre men that think they’re the hottest shit on earth,” Kat snorts.

“Well, this whole Julian thing really put a cork in it,” I cackle picturing Mike’s dumb face in my mind. “I mean, it is kind of genius… He has no idea who Julian is, he’s never met him, it’s perfect. I owe you one, Kat!”

“Oh god…” She gives me a fake terrified look as I’m pulling some toilet paper off the holder. “So when are we going to throw an intervention party for Eva?” She asks randomly after a moment.

This past winter, all of us were so preoccupied with all the different things – and people, admittedly – but the last few weeks, I feel, we’ve really come back to ourselves as a unit, as a girl gang, as the geeks. So me, Kat, and Lizzy have been painfully aware of Eva’s constant exhaustion as of late. And Kat’s right, we need to do something about it. I don’t think Eva’s had a single hour, let alone day, of fun in the last couple of months. Sure, she started playing basketball with some people as something she enjoys doing, but I think it pretty quickly turned into an obligation rather than a hobby. I think we need to get her to quit, seriously. Summer’s just around the corner and she really should be focusing on resting and, let’s be honest, partying.

“Girl, I still don’t understand why you were even with him!” A female voice that sounds like the dictionary definition of catty bursts into the restroom along with the momentary, blurred sounds of the barroom.

“Me either,” another voice cackles back. Wait…

“…seriously though,” I hear the first woman’s voice again.

“Seriously,” her friend starts slowly and when I glance at Kat, her face tells me she recognized the second voice too. “Mark…he’s different. He was never possessive, unlike a string of loser boyfriends I had before.”

“That’s a pretty low bar hun…”

“Maybe… He’s also actually a really good listener.”

“Really?” Kristine’s friend sounds super incredulous but Kat’s eyebrows arch ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly, as she seemingly decides that she agrees with that statement.

“And he also made me cum almost every time…” Kristine’s tipsy laughter echoes in the restroom.

“Actually?!” The friend chortles.

“Ew,” I whisper at Kat through stifled laughter. She looks like she’d give anything to be literally anywhere but here though. Or like she ate a bad egg sandwich. Can’t really tell…

“D’you think we can fit out there?” She whispers, pointing at a vent above the toilet. Maybe if we were guinea pigs.

“Yeah… I don’t know, he’s just hot, he’s just a hot dude. What can I say, I guess I have a questionable taste in men.”

“I’ll fuckin’ say,” I shoot Kat an unamused look and she chuckles dryly, but then throws me a smirk that could only be described as ‘smartass’.

“Did you see Melinda hanging out by the stage?”

“What?!” There’s palpable panic in Kristine’s voice now. She’ll fuck Mike but she’s afraid of his sister, I guess? Honestly, this is hilarious. Peak entertainment, really. I just wish I had some popcorn. “Is the whole fucking town here tonight??”

Seems like it. “I still think you should go up to him.” Him? Mike? Or Mark? “It’s the perfect place and time. Offer to buy some shots, y’all can get a little tipsy, and then he’ll soften up. It’s been like, what, almost three months? You gotta go for it girl.”

“I don’t know…” Kristine mumbles, although she already sounds pretty tipsy to me, so everything she says comes out pretty loud. “Not with all of them here…”

“Who?” Her friend asks in a clueless tone, while Kat keeps her eyes glued to the floor.

“His goddamn neighbors…and Mike.”

Ah. So Kristine’s thinking of getting back together with Mark. Honestly, I don’t see it ever happening for her. But maybe I’m wrong, who knows. I wonder what Kat thinks. So I whisper a question:

“She wants to get back together?”

“Sounds like it,” Kat whispers back.

“Do you think he would?”

At this, she pulls her shoulders into a shrug accompanied by a clueless arch of her brow. “I don’t think he likes her very much…” I personally don’t think he would for more reasons than just Kristine being trash. I’ve been noticing some things…

“Yeah,” Kristine’s shrill voice cuts through my thoughts again, “like I always said, he’s my pitbull. He’ll come back to me because we’re each other’s pitbulls…”

Kat and I both snort and screech in an attempt to stifle our laughter; I’m sure, even the drunken duo of Kristine and her friend registers the sounds. Regardless, they plow on with their dumb conversation.  

“What made you do it anyway?” Her friend lights up a cigarette, which I know because I’ve nudged Kat aside and started trying to peek through the crack between the stall door. “If it was so great, as you say… Why cheat on him? And with that man whore too…” Entertainment with a capital E.

“I don’t know… I was fuckin’ frustrated, Tiff. Mark was always hanging around that redhead,” she starts and I turn to watch Kat’s eyebrows tie into an actual knot. “I walked in on them at the laundry room and they suddenly stopped their conversation, like they were hiding something. What the fuck was he talking about with that chick that he had to hide from me?? I don’t know if they ever did anything but they were obviously into each other…”

At this, Kat’s whole face starts to sort of swirl inward, tightening the knot further.

“It’s just so disrespectful… And it just turned into this fucked up situation, you know? Everything was fine but then she moved into his building and started messing things up for him. Wait, did I tell you that she would give him gifts??” Kristine chortles and Kat’s face sours and twists even more somehow.

“What? What the fuck?” The friend laughs along.

“Yeah, like fuckin’ cupcakes and mixtapes and shit!”

“Yeah, that’s fuckin’ weird, like what are you, his little fan girl? A cute little groupie?”

“I know! Exactly! Mark was obviously confused by it… Like, I just felt at times like he would have been all over that bitch, if he hadn’t already gotten with me, you know? But that night…”

“He was asking me if he should buy Lou Reed tickets for her.” Kat informs me quickly and angrily, through gritted teeth.

“…felt really disrespected so I went out for drinks by myself…and had way too many. I ran into some people and Mike was there and at the end of the night, he offered to give me a ride and… I don’t know, I was pretty drunk but as I was getting into his car, I knew I was gonna kiss him just to get the anger out somehow…” Fucking selfish bitch. “Then one thing led to another and… I regretted it right after. I felt so gross…”

Wow. I don’t really feel like I needed to hear this, yet here we are. And what the fuck was Mike thinking!? If she was so drunk, he should have known better! Not gone along with it and taken advantage of the situation! But that’s probably exactly why he offered her a ride in the first place, what a shit stain.

“Woah, just because you saw Mark and that girl talking in the basement?”

“It’s not just that, Tiff,” Kristine sounds irritated by the question. “I was reaching a breaking point after feeling like shit for weeks and weeks because of how Mark treated me. Like I said, he was always hanging around that little bitch neighbor of his and… Like, he would never stand up for me when his dumb friends would say nasty shit to me, stuff like that.”

“Really? Who?”

“Like fuckin’ Buzz and Kurt…”

“Kurt is a dick, I have to say,” Kat delivers flatly.

“Anyway, I really thought by now Mark would have gone after her—”

“The redheaded bitch neighbor?”

“Yeah… I mean, she’s totally his type. And he was always hanging out at her apartment while we were together… But he hasn’t, he’s not with her, as far as I know… That must mean something, right?”

“You know, I think it does! He must’ve done some growing and realized he doesn’t need a girl like her, he needs a woman like you!”

“Oh my god, I love this song!” Kristine suddenly screeches at the sound of Elvis Costello’s I Want You and it’s the last thing we hear as the two girls finally fucking leave.

* * *

“So much to unpack,” Gwen laughs as we walk out of the restroom.

“Pitbulls?..”

“I don’t know…” She shakes her head and thankfully doesn’t mention the allegation that I was somehow out to break Kristine and Mark up. Or, wait, no, it was Mark who didn’t actually want to be with her because he learned of my existence..? But he’s still her pitbull… What the fuck?

“Anyway, speaking of Mark, thanks for not sending that guy for the task earlier.”

Wow, I had already forgotten about Gwen making out with Mike. What a night. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why? Mike would never believe that I’d ever be into Mark,” she shrugs like it’s the most elementary truth that all should know. Ouch?

“Did you and Mike explicitly discuss your aversion to Mark or…”

“You rang?” The blond Lurch appears literally out of nowhere, causing me to quickly look around – not sure what for.

“I really didn’t. But since you’re here, I think Gwen just called you unattractive…”

Mark inspects my face with the brightest of smiles. “You seem annoyed by that,” he surmises and I’m about to exchange unamused looks with Gwen but she’s giving me more of an evil grin than anything else.

“Annoyed?” I look back at Mark, who isn’t on my personal list of repulsive people. All the same, “far from it.”

“You’re totally annoyed.”

I’m annoyed that I was subjected to hearing all that shit in there. That snakeskin boot wearing dingbat really goes around feeling like it was everybody else’s fault but her’s!

“Annoyed by entirely different things, actually. Not everything revolves around you,” I unintentionally channel that feeling into my words.

“Simmer down, it’s not his fault,” Gwen holds my gaze with a slight arch of her eyebrow before telling us she’ll go get a ‘much needed’ drink and laughing to herself.

“What’s not my fault?” Mark turns to me with a manic grin. “That I’m so dang attractive? What can I say…”

“Sure, yeah,” I laugh out. It’s not his fault.

“It’s all that canned fish I eat. Makes my coat real shiny,” he shakes his hair sort of towards my face, making me laugh more. “Will you look at that, you think I’m attractive. Can you feel yourself being attracted to me right now?” He puffs out his chest.

“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not even the most attractive person I was stuck in an elevator with,” I click my tongue but I’m afraid it won’t mask my blushing face, goddamnit. Also, that was an objective lie… The only other person I’ve ever been stuck in an elevator with is my brother… I really don’t understand why I need to be blushing right now though. Also…I’m totally his type? What does that even mean? “What are you doing hanging out around women’s restrooms anyway, you creep?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he proceeds to grin at me like he just won the lottery. What a weird, objectively attractive guy…

“Your ex roommate is here, did you know?” I blurt.

Mark narrows his eyes at me. “She is?” He asks slowly.

“Yeah.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah…” I watch him, waiting for him to say something more, but he doesn’t.

I almost want to tell him that we overheard her stupid conversation… But not really at all, I really don’t. Telling him that she was talking about how she cheated on him because of me kind of feels like it’s neither here nor there. And either way, he doesn’t seem to want to talk about her. He really doesn’t seem to want to talk about many things. Whatever breakthroughs we had made on our phone calls when he was in Europe now feel like a distant memory from another lifetime. It’s all just shooting the shit now.

“Oh hey guys!” Lizzy bounces over to us with a big grin. “Are you going to the restroom?”

“No, I just came out…”

“Can you wait for me? I’ll be quick!” With those words, she disappears behind the door, so I remain stood in my spot, and so does Mark.

Before even five seconds pass though, Stone shows up holding two bottles of beer. After briefly explaining that it was Steve’s but he’s nowhere to be found, and after some mild quarreling between me and Mark, he gives the spare one to me.

Lizzy comes back out of the restroom and the two guys soon start talking about some band they saw together some years ago, and my mind slips away from the conversation entirely as we all make our way towards a booth where Lizzy apparently last saw some of our friends. So, wait…Kristine thought Mark’s into me? She never said anything about that to him though; to him, she made it sound like I was the culprit and the problem… He brought up her suspicions of me that one time during a phone call; at the time, it didn’t sound like anything serious, I thought he was just making fun of his ex but after hearing Kristine talk about it, it seems it was a big point of contention in their relationship. Well, at least for her?

And she felt insecure about me? Really? I don’t even know how to categorize that in my head. I mean, did she just say all that shit tonight because she’s drunk? Although… She did yell at me that one time that I must be happy that they broke up… Maybe it’s me who’s too drunk to make sense of it all..? But how could she look at me, then look at her own reflection in the mirror, and decide that I’m a threat of any sort? It’s absurd! The part about Mark treating her like shit though… That I get. That should be enough for anyone to leave a relationship. Although ideally not via cheating… But he always acted like she’s the worst, most annoying person he knows. He was asking me what music she likes, for god’s sake! What the hell was that about? What kind of a person is that oblivious to someone they’re in a relationship with? But I’m somehow at fault for moving into that particular building!? Shit, I need to stop spiraling… I can overthink this some other time, preferably when I’m not supposed to be hanging out with people and celebrating Gwen climbing the rungs of her career ladder.

“Oh yeah, Xana made you a bracelet,” Stone’s voice pulls me out of my head and my eyes focus on his outstretched arm, holding a beaded little thing.

“She really likes me, huh?” I mumble as I take it and slip it on my wrist.

“And, trust me,” Stone’s face falls into a serious sort of stare, “she really doesn’t like a lot of people.”

“She does do a lot of drugs though,” Mark throws me a shit eating grin. “She probably just thinks you’re a particularly friendly Leprechaun.”

Right… Lately, it feels a little bit like Mark was kidnapped in Europe and replaced with a pre-programmed clone. I mean… I don’t know, it just feels like our conversations were a lot more interesting, specifically while he was away, and now… Now it feels like our interactions have hit some sort of a new level of superficial… Not that I’m trying to share weird secrets and talk about our deepest fears all the time, but he seems to be in this constant mode of mind-numbing, clumsy banter; just acting really weird and, I don’t know, awkward maybe. I know we never had the world’s closest friendship but I feel more distant from him now than I did a few weeks ago. I felt then like I could say more than I can now. I felt more understood then, maybe? Or maybe it’s just the confessional effect; it is oddly much easier to have honest and vulnerable conversations with a plastic phone receiver.

Either way, back then he called me, he sought me out, over and over again. And now… Wait, is he trying to signal to me that he’s not interested in me romantically? I mean… I’m definitely guilty of doing that in the past, I have to admit. In some friendships, there comes that moment when you start wondering if maybe the other person is starting to veer off from your shared understanding of your relationship and then…then you act like a boring idiot, right? Is that what Mark is doing to me? Does he believe what Kristine said, that I’m probably in love with him? Does he just want to be safe and really drive home that he is not attracted to me?

Goddamnit, I really have to stop spiraling. I need another dri—

“Kit Kat!”

All my blood rushes to my ears as they register the voice carrying those words to me over the suddenly muffled noise of the barroom; my eyes quickly find a face that seems to be at the end of a very long and narrow tunnel… A face I used to stare at endlessly a couple of years ago.

I yank myself out of the anxious daze, stumbling over my speech as I do, “H—Hi.”

"That's all I get?" He’s…stiff. I can tell he didn’t expect to run into me either. Yet, he came to say hi. And I’m sitting at a booth full of people, sandwiched by Lizzy and Stone, so he really had to commit to coming over to say hi, I’m not just lingering somewhere alone…

"Uh, no... I mean... How've you been?"

"Doing well." He holds my gaze for a second, and I get the feeling that he’s letting me know he’s not coming with swards and daggers. "It's good to see you."

"Really?" I can’t help but question.

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?"

"Seriously?" What a fuckin’ poser, can’t ever be honest! I’ve seen him twice in the last couple of years and both times were just appalling. I somehow didn’t see him for the first three months right after we broke up. I know that was intentional on his behalf and I’m just really shocked he somehow managed to avoid me for that long, considering we had a lot of the same friends. I mean, really, a lot.

The first time I saw him, it happened around a handful of people, on campus, completely unexpectedly. He acted like nothing had happened, like we were somehow back to before we had been together for a year. And I was so caught off guard – by seeing him and seeing him behave like that – that I clumsily followed suit. We made some loose promises on how we all should go see some movie soon and then I didn’t see him for almost a year.

The second time I saw him, I was really drunk and I made some unnecessary catty comments towards him. He acted almost like we’d never even met, so short and cold. But I knew he felt really hurt that time, I really shouldn’t have said some of the stuff I did. It doesn’t matter anymore anyway… "Anyway, this is… Oh right, you guys know each other..." I start to point at Lizzy, Nadia, and Julian.

“Right, hi guys,” he waves at them and then sticks his hand out at Mark, who’s sitting on the other side of Stone, “Will.”

“Hi, Will.” Mark dramatically wipes his own hand on his jeans leg before going in for a shake. “Mark Arm.”

“I’m Stone but I have a hand condition, I can’t shake hands.” This causes Mark and Steve to chortle.

“And those are their real names. Steve,” the guy just waves at Will stiffly. I don’t know why they’re so weirdly rude but I’m really enjoying actually, in a perverted, immature kind of way.

“Pleasure,” my ex says. “So... What are you guys up to?"

“Not climbing a corporate ladder,” Mark sounds like he can’t get the words out quick enough. Will does have a very clean cut look to him, I guess…

“Well, actually,” I stop myself from laughing at Stone’s words still bouncing in my ears, “Gwen is,” I point out.

“Yeah, you know how she’s fluent in Spanish… Well, she figured that would be a good place to get her foot in the door of the world of politics, so…”

I stop listening to Lizzy pretty quickly; really, my own thoughts drown her words out without me meaning to… What kind of a horror movie is this where everyone’s exes are showing up left and right!?

I wish I was making out with a hot new…or fake boyfriend now, so that maybe Will wouldn’t have come up to our booth, because… I just don’t know what I’m supposed to say or do here. I think any kind of friendship to speak of has sailed away a long time ago, I hardly even know him anymore. He could be an entirely different person by now and honestly, I don’t feel like who I was back then either. And instead of being able to at least act like I have my shit together, like my life is going somewhere, I’m just sitting here surrounded by the same college friends and some rockstar wannabe guys… Well, I guess that’s mostly just Stone, I don’t think world fame is in Mark or Steve’s daydreams… Either way, something about this whole situation feels very uncool.

“You still roll your own cigarettes?” Will’s words yank me out of my head, into the loud and crowded bar.

“Yeah… Sometimes… I don’t have any tobacco on me right now…” Why do I sound like that!?

“I just have these but I’ll share,” he lifts a pack of filterless Camels.

Maybe I should pretend to faint, I wonder as I start getting up, prompting Stone and Mark to do the same, so I can get past them. Actually, both of the guys express an interest in stepping out for a smoke as well, but Lizzy suggests – none too subtly – that they all get more beer instead.

As Will and I step outside, the conversation continues to be stiff and distant; we briefly talk about work, at which point I have to tell him that I work at a thrift shop, “although I’ve been interviewing some places that are more in line with my skills,” I say vaguely, right after he tells me he’s recently been promoted in whatever stuffy accounting firm he works at.

I can’t figure out why he’s being so overly diplomatic; a simple ‘hi’ back inside would have sufficed, yet we’ve been sharing pleasantries for ten minutes now. We laugh at a couple of old college stories, although I don’t think they’re that funny, nor do I care to talk about them, especially considering we’re sort of tiptoeing around the main college anecdote, which was our relationship. Not that I want to talk about that either. Although maybe some things would be good to acknowledge? But do I need him for that?

There was nothing visibly wrong in our relationship that would have made it obvious just how incompatible we were. But it just wasn’t going well, ever, nor as the one year mark was approaching, and then he went ahead and said what he did and I felt like he didn’t see me, at all. I felt like it was a joke, like he was just following some textbook guidelines on how a relationship is supposed to progress, not taking into account what was actually going on. How I felt. He didn’t see me.

And over the last couple of years I realized that I didn’t see him either. I was so hurt by him but with time I realized that I…well, I lead him on, right? I don’t think there’s another way to say it. I stayed with him because it was comfortable and familiar and convenient. What a fucked up thing to do to someone you care about. Wow, when you think about just how dysfunctional and emotionally unavailable I used to be, it really makes me look great nowadays.

“Hey you,” another face from my deep past drifts towards us; I always liked Simone, I thought she was cool, but I mostly just knew her as Will’s friend back in college. And there she is now, wrapping her arm around his waist.

“Simmy, you remember Kat, right? From UW,” Will points at me with a big excited grin.

I spend at least ten more excruciating minutes having almost the same conversation I just had, but now also learning about Simone’s amazing career, also in accounting…

* * *

Kit Kat!” Some clean-cut dark-haired guy materializes at the end of our table, a bizarelly expressionless smile stretching his mouth as he looks down at Novak. It’s somehow both really weird and very fitting that someone who looks like him would call her Kit Kat…

“H— Hi," Kat breathes with the kind of look on her face that tells me she doesn't fully believe her eyes. Interesting…

"That's all I get?" The bozo pretend-pouts.

"Uh, no... I mean... How've you been?" Wow. Whoever this guy is, I should congratulate him on being the only person to render Katie Novak actually speechless. 

"Doing well." Awkward pause. "It's good to see you."

"Really?" Kat immediately narrows her eyes.

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" The guy seems slightly annoyed now.

"Seriously?" Kat basically whispers and then seemingly decides to change course completely, not without a slight shake of her head. "Anyway, this is... Oh right, you guys know each other..." Her hand freezes mid-air as she gestures at their three mutual friends.

“Right, hi guys. Will,” the guy sticks his hand out. A little corporate for a shithole of a bar like this maybe, but okay…

“Hi, Will. Mark Arm.”

“I’m Stone but I have a hand condition, I can’t do handshakes.” Nice.

“Believe it or not, those are their real names. Steve.”

“Pleasure. So... What are you guys up to?"

“Not climbing a corporate ladder,” I shrug.

“Well, actually, Gwen is,” Kat corrects me and Lizzy launches into a full recap of how Gwen got to be working at an embassy.

“We don’t affiliate with her though,” Steve jokes with a straight face. “Can’t trust politicians.”

“Unless she can get me into Area 51, that would be worth a political affiliation,” I add.

“I actually have some dirt on her,” Stone bobs his head. I don’t know what it is about this Will guy but it’s really fun to talk nonsense to him and watch him try to act like we’re having a normal conversation.

Before too long, Will whisks Kat away and I end up sitting next to Lizzy. So I guess they're college friends.

“Wait, so why did they break up again?” Nadia eyes the spot in the crowd where the two just disappeared. Oh?

“Wait, don’t you know?” Lizzy scrunches her nose instead of answering the question.

“I don’t think so… I don’t even remember who broke up with who.”

“So, are we getting beer or..?” Stone, who’s sitting on the other side of me now, leans over to look at Lizzy.

“Huh?”

“You said you’re buying us beer?”

“I don’t think I said that!” She giggles. “Anyway, I just wanted to give them some privacy. Will obviously wanted to talk to Kat alone.”

“Unbe-fucking-lievable,” Stone sighs.

“I’ll take one too,” I tell him and Steve as they get up from their seats, seeing as I have absolutely no intentions of leaving this booth right now.

“They just always seemed to have the best relationship, that’s what I remember most.” The best relationship? Novak? The woman who kept sneaking her boy toy through my skylight for a couple of months because she didn’t want her live-in friends to know about their hook-ups?

“I don’t know if she was all that happy…” Julian mumbles none too loudly but Lizzy either chooses to ignore him or actually doesn’t hear him.

“Will told Kat he loved her? On their one year anniversary..?” She starts as if to jog Nadia’s memory; as if this intimate information about her friend’s relationship should be common knowledge. Although this somehow makes more sense than the ‘best relationship’ part. For some reason, I can picture Kat breaking up with her boyfriend because he tells her he loves her, on their anniversary.

“Oh yeah… I sort of remember something… Wait, so what happened?” Yeah, what happened? How exactly does an ‘I love you’ on an anniversary break up a relationship, I really want to know?

I lose track of the story for a moment when some guy spots Julian and they say their ‘hi’s unnecessarily loudly before both departing.

“…took them forever to finally get together? They just didn’t have a good rhythm in their relationship sometimes,” Lizzy goes on dishing out all of Kat’s secrets like she’s recapping the last book she read. And I hang on every word, of course, because I am pathetic like that. So I continue twirling my empty beer bottle on the table while trying not to look too interested in what she’s saying. “That’s what my mom always says. You gotta find someone you have the right rhythm with, you know? Kat and Will, though… Well, you remember, everybody could tell they liked each other for a long time, stuff like that… Anyway, towards the end Kat was always trying to get out of spending time with him… Although that’s not how she put it – according to her, she was always mysteriously busy with other things…” Is it even legal for me to be listening to this?? It’s seriously starting to feel like some kind of a violation of Kat’s rights. And yet, I don’t move from my spot.

“Yeah, I kind of remember that… Although I didn’t think it was that serious?” Nadia says and consequently prompts Lizzy to go on.

“It was a weird time, honestly…”

“No pun intended, Mark,” I hear Steve say my name and Stone chortle, as the former sets a beer in front of me.

I have no idea what he’s talking about so I mirror his grin. “None taken.”

“…and then on their one year anniversary, Will took her out to dinner… You remember how he is, always so thoughtful.”

“Yeah, if I know anyone who I’d call a gentleman, it would be Will.” What? Kat’s ex is a gentleman? What does that even mean?

“Yeah, so they went out and I guess he had planned to tell her he loved her that night so he did, and she…” Lizzy narrows her eyes in thought, “she wasn’t ready to say it back yet and long story short, he was really hurt by it and it turned out to be something they couldn’t recover from.”

I would love to be a fly on the wall when Kat recounts the tale of her failed relationship because I have a feeling that Lizzy’s version might not be totally accurate. But still. If there’s any woman I know who’s honest enough to not say ‘I love you’ back to her boyfriend of one year, I’d have bet my money on Novak. The paradoxical surprise here is that she would even stay in a relationship for that long when it wasn’t working, by the sound of it.

“Shit, I remember them running into each other a few weeks after they broke up. It felt super awkward…” Lizzy’s friend bobs her head.

“Sorry Mark,” Lizzy pats my arm unexpectedly, almost making me flinch. “You’re probably bored to death by all this girly chitchat,” she laughs and I notice only then that Steve and Stone have disappeared again. I don’t think I’ve ever conceptualized Novak having exes. Other than that one cavorting meathead. How weird.

* * *

It makes sense that Will is living a perfect life, working his perfect job and dating the perfect woman…all perfect to him. It just makes sense that that’s how things would go for him. He’s just never been the kind of person to go with the flow, see what happens, take risks… Which is, funnily, what I liked about him when we first met. He was so smooth and so well-timed and put together…

I just always felt like he cared so much about what people think that I rarely ever saw him how he really was, not how he wanted to appear. And it always seemed like it was so easy for me to then also not be too much of myself. In the end though, I just really felt like we were both moving away from each other. I was so sure that, any day, we would have somehow broken up on very amicable terms. I really thought he felt that way too. And then he told me he loved me and was looking forward to our future anniversaries. What the fuck!? Where was he?? How could he not see our relationship sighing its last breath on its very obvious deathbed!?

I go back inside, in search of my friends, but find a group of strangers at the booth where we were sitting earlier. I circle around the entire barroom, making sure to pop into the restroom, but I can’t find anyone. I do eventually see Nadia in the crowd but she’s now joined by people I don’t know…

I wasn’t in love with him, even though I thought I was, or I wanted to be; and that was the problem. I’ve always loved him, since the day I met him at that crusty sports bar during my first week of college. He was a sophomore and had so much dignity about him, but he laughed at my grimy jokes and took me into his friend group all the same. I always felt like I was meant to meet him back then.

I walk back outside and that’s where I find everyone; I immediately spot Gwen, she’s smoking and Lizzy’s talking her ear off about something (probably Jerry). I see that a few guys are huddled together, probably talking about their respective bands… Not Mark though; Mark is trying to…

“Are you having a seizure?” I ask as I approach him.

“Does this look like a seizure to you?” He frowns at me momentarily while repeatedly putting his hands on the ground and straightening back up a little.

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen anyone have one…”

“I’m doing a handstand. I just saw some guy do it, surely I can too,” he explains patiently and goes back to it.

“Ah, well let me know if I need to call an ambulance.”

Mark really doesn’t ever seem to care about looking like an idiot…or a clown, maybe clown is nicer; he just goes through life in his own peculiar way. So uniquely him. I always want to be more like that.

As I turn to join Gwen and Lizzy, he takes his blazer off and throws it at me. “See!” He beams as he finally manages to take a few…steps? On his hands, legs flailing in the air. I laugh and, feeling the chilly air of the evening creep up my back, I poke my arms through his blazer sleeves. “Try not to sweat into it. I just did laundry—Ah!!” He crumples to the ground after another five second success.

Why does he always have to say things like that to me? I am clearly not a viable object of his affections, I don’t know what Kristine was on to come to her conclusions. She should probably see a specialist of some kind, something isn’t connected right in her brain.

[xoxoavenger]

Indiana Jones

pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

summary: It’s after the final battle, and everyone has their own ways of coping. Y/N will indulge in Steve if he lets her help him.

word count: 907

warnings: injuries, end of season 4

masterlist note: still working on Steve’s problem and also other characters but I thought it was fitting to post this draft on Indy’s weekend.

//

It had been silent for a whole hour.

Everyone was at Steve’s house, quietly grabbing blankets, pillows, curling up together and helping each other put bandaids over their wounds. Nancy had taken Lucas and Max to the hospital, but everyone else had refused. Robin gently wrapped Dustin’s ankle while Y/N wiped the dried blood off of Erica and tucked her into the guest bedroom. When Nancy and Lucas got back, having been kicked out of the hospital due to the flow of people who were coming in with all sorts of injuries, Nancy helped Lucas get some pain meds and cleaned his face before locking herself in the bathroom to deal with her own bumps and bruises.

Steve was sitting on his bed, barely able to sit up on his own. He didn’t even notice when Y/N came in, a bowl of warm water and iodine as well as a cloth in her hands and bandages under her arms.

“Steve?” She said softly, setting everything down on his bare side table - well, bare except for the framed picture of the two of them in a rowboat on Lover’s Lake last year, taken by Robin who was annoyed in the other boat with a random friend she had invited.

“You haven’t cleaned your face.” He looked up at her slowly, and she just shook her head.

“It barely hurts.” This was a lie; although the cut on her eyebrow was no longer pouring blood into her eye, her head ached from where she had been thrown against a wall. “I know you must be hurting.” She began to pull his jacket off and Steve groaned as she peeled it off his arms. She tried to suppress her gasp when she saw the blood soaked shirt, heart racing when she noticed how pale he was.

“No,” He batted her hands away as she tried to peel his shirt off, and she blinked annoyedly. She was exhausted and she just wanted to fix up Steve. “I just wanna sleep. Let me sleep.” He pushed her away, leaning back and groaning as he moved slightly.

“You can sleep after I clean you up.” She began to fight him as she pulled his shirt up, almost gagging as it stuck to him with the blood.

“No,” He pushed her away, and she pressed her lips together in annoyance.

“I know you’re hurting,”

“So let me sleep!” He cried, grabbing her wrists and closing his eyes as he pushed her away. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that Steve was probably running out of adrenaline and was in a world of pain.

“Where does it hurt?” She asked as she finally got his shirt off, beginning to unravel the dirty cloth that she had hastily wrapped around him in the UpsideDown.

“Are you kidding?” He groaned, and all she could think about was that he was so lucky she loved him.

“Fine!” She sat back and crossed her arms. “Where doesn’t it hurt?” Steve smirked at this, opening his eyes and looking at her with some sort of emotion that she hadn’t seen in awhile, one that made her forget the world had just ended. Of course Steve was the only one who could do this to her.

“Well,” He looked suspiciously happy about this, bringing his elbow up to point at it. She rolled her eyes and began looking at the bites on his torso.

“These don’t look infected yet, but we aren’t out of-“

“Aren’t you going to kiss it?” The way Steve was speaking made her think she missed something. He was smiling at her in a way he didn’t usually, like an open mouthed smirk almost.

“Your elbow?” She questioned as he continued pointing. He just nodded and she rolled her eyes, kissing his elbow quickly.

“Also right here.” He pointed to his forehead, the side that wasn’t scratched, and she narrowed her eyes. This seemed familiar.

“Are you trying to Indiana Jones me?” She asked, heart filling with love as he smiled and nodded. She rolled her eyes, leaning in to kiss his lips - knowing that was what he really wanted - before going back to his abdomen.

“Did it work?” He asked, trying to pretend the pain didn’t exist as she dabbed with the cloth, which was rapidly turning red.

“I’ll let you know when you let me finish helping you.” She tells him with a teasing smile, and he sighs as he lays back.

“What if you kissed me again?” Steve asked, and Y/N laughed as he leaned forward, letting him press a kiss to her lips.

“What if you let me finish helping you?” She asked, beginning to bandage him up. He barely let her finish before he was pushing up to kiss her again.

She saw through his facade. She knew he was trying to distract himself from what had happened. But she would let him, because she needed it too. So for one second, she let him pretend to be a world-traveling archeologist. She would be Marion, and they would kiss while they pretended they were on a boat after the perfect adventure.

As they laid down, Y/N slanted diagonally to be away from Steve’s wounds as he put his arms around her, and she kissed his chest before falling asleep. They would deal with the aftermath tomorrow. They would mourn tomorrow. They would figure out the next step tomorrow. But tonight, Steve was Indiana Jones.

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @roxaya @sadbitchfangirl @gloryekaterina @oblivion-void @alexshaff2002 @m-rae23 @freezaz123 @mads-weasley  @johnricharddeacy @sweetdreamsshifter @param8re @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @wish-upon-a-star-1310 @xxhellfiregirlxx @parkershoco @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @peculiarwren @fangisms 

[decimadragonoid]

I finished watching the entire Planet Namek and Frieza saga in the original Dragonball Z Funimation dub with Kikuchi's musical score last weekend. And after seeing Guldo in action and feeling how much potential he could've had as a character, I decided to create my own Boulean character: Dulien. I haven't really started his backstory yet, but what I

can

say is that he's not affiliated with Frieza, has a story that correlates with the Planet Namek saga, or has any affiliation with the main cast. Well, not yet, at least. In fact, his concept is more non-canon and just for fun more than anything else.

Another thing I can tell you is that he more or less has the same powers as Guldo and his entire Boulean race, but he has more control over them and has more potential, given how calm and collected he is when he normally uses them. I dunno, man. I had to do something to cope with my disappointment with how Guldo was handled. Haha! XD

I mean, it's not like it Guldo's character was all THAT bad, but it was just sad that he got wasted too quickly. Plus, I actually found the Boulean race design pretty cool. It's also safe to say that Dulien is a lot taller, smarter, and rotund than the average Boulean. That would probably explain the major outie belly button on his suit! Maybe I'll call this type of Boulean a "Prime Boulean."

Anyway, here's Dulien! So I hope you enjoy! Hopefully I can draw him a bit better next time! Also, don't take off his hat. You don't want to know what's hidden there. Wink-wink! ;)

[The name "Dulien" is actually a pun or wordplay on the durian fruit.]

========

Dragonball Z © Akira Toriyama

Fanart by DecimaDragonoid ======== Please do not hesitate to leave your thoughts and critique in the comment section, as it really helps me think about and improve my style!

[ahnsael]

We got robbed at gunpoint over the weekend.

First time in almost 9 years of our operation that this has happened. When I saw the names of the suspects, I thought, “I know these guys” Not personally, but I am familiar with both.

I haven’t slept in almost 42 hours. I keep replaying it in my mind with different scenarios. If I go to sleep, those scenarios just will play themselves out in my subconscious. I may go a second day without sleep. I haven’t decided yet.

I KNOW this is not healthy. But my work family is my extended family. And they were in danger. AND I WAS ON A BREAK AND HAD NO CLUE WHAT WAS GOING ON UNTIL IT HAD HAPPENED. I feel like I let them down. My adrenaline from the situation hasn’t faded. If I had beenin there with them and not on a break when it happened, I might have closure. 

I know I couldn’t have prevented the situation. But I would have been there with them. And I could have taken the hit (robbery) out of my drawer as a manager easier than it was for her as someone who is a casino attendant.I KNOW it’s’s not my fault (don’t go all Good Will Hunting on me with “it’s not your fault; I KNOW it is not but I am still allowed to feel bad that I wasn’t there for them when they needed me because I wasn’t informed until it was over).

Detectives wanted us to stick around for interviews. After crying on the shoulder of the one I felt I let down the most, they called my name and I said no. When I turned at my name, one detective said “Are you okay” as tears were streaming down my face. I said, “We were just robbed at gunpoint. You tell me if I am supposed to be okay.”

Another manager came in and I filled him in and he mentioned the HOURS of overtime I could have been getting, but I said “but then I would be drinking on the job and that would be bad.” And he said “If you are about to be interviewed by a detective, why are you drinking?”

“Because we were robbed at gunpoint this morning and we all agreed we needed a stiff one after that.”

We coped. We made jokes. We laughed together to keep from sobbing together. We were scared. I am still scared. I told one bos that I would not be getting any sleep and he took that to mean I was calling off and said “we’ll figure something out.” I had to reiterate that I would indeed be showing up to work, but that I would be emotional. I recognize the two who pulled guns on my extended work family.

They said that if we called the cops they would come back and shoot us all. I didn’t know that until AFTER I had called 911 to report the robbery. After another employee (he didn’t know the threat either) and I both called 911, deputies were EVERYWHERE. We went into lockdown mode. We chained and padlocked the doors shut (I was the one to do that, knowing that it might mean I would be the one to die if they did come back since deputies were already all over the place looking for them).

But the worse part was not being there for my extended family at work. If you know, you know. And ifyou don’t know, now you know.If you don’t see your coworkers,even the ones you don’t like, as extended family (who agrees with their uncle on everything?), you are in the wrong job. The fact that I wasn’t there for them hurts me.

I know it’s not my fault. Don’t you DARE tell me there is nothing I could have done. I know it’s not on me that I didn’t know what was happening. But I am still allowed to feel bad that I wasn’t there to take one for the team. My drawer would have gotten them a lot less money. Even if they knew about my second separate drawer with back up cash. I would have given them that too, if they mentioned it. They still would have gotten a lot of money, but not as much as they got.

One shot at a cop. He hit the cop’s car door and not the deputy. Thank goodness.

But my mom looked up an article and I saw the names and I immediately thought , “I know exactly who they are.” They were regular sports bettors. So apparently while they were placing sports bets (which they did do), they were also casing the joint. They put my extended family’s lives on the line for maybe a year and a half of salary at my pay grade. That will cost them both decades in prison. That pisses me off and puts me in a LONG line of people who want to be let into the jail to kick their asses. I am not a violent person. But they put the LIVES OF MY EXTENDED FAMILY on the line. And the fact that one of them shot at a cop proves he was willing to use that power.

Nothing pisses me off more than some coward, who is only a man if he has a gun to back him up,thinking it makes him a man. . I have no gun. If I had one, I would not be allowed to carry one at work.

But there is a LOT of discussion going around about how to to prevent this in the future. In almost nine years of being open, this is the first time we were successfully robbed. And while some ideas I agree with and some I do not, I welcome ALL ideas. The trouble is that I am the security department manager, and the security department consists of ONE security guard, and while he CAN look intimidating when he needs to, he is a eddy bear.

And he was off the day we got robbed.

But I am done waiting for detectives for hours. after work. They made me wait for four and a half hours and then called it off because I was emotional because I almost lost some of my extended family  If they want to interview me, I welcome it. But come in while I am on the clock. I am tired of working wrounf their schedule and getting no sleep as a result. I gave them my schedule. If they don’t come in, that’s on them. I waited 4½ hours after they arrived (6½ hours after the robbery) to talk to someone. At that point I was too upset and how everything was handled. I told the detective off and left.

They can interview me on MY schedule or not interview me at all. I played by their schedule and it messed me up sleepwise.

[artfulmagic]

cw: blood, anguish tw: sui ideation  My Half-Year in Hell

You read that right: half of my year has been spent in a Hell of my own making, because I was naive and thought things changed for the better in regards to my own father, but I was sorely mistaken.

If you want to get technical, it’s been approximately 8 months since that fateful Memorial Day weekend my partner and I planned to take off, so we could move my dad downstate, so he could be closer to family and get the support and help he needed. To be frank, I thought after the loss of my mom and then my stepmother a few years later, I thought perhaps we could pursue a healthy relationship, that my feelings (or lack thereof) regarding my father would change. I was wrong.

A part of me is still uneasy talking about this as I’m not one to talk about my personal life very much, but I need to get it out there. I can only keep up the “everything’s fine” facade for so long. In truth, I am not fine. I haven’t been fine for months. In fact, I’ve been so miserable, I just don’t want to live anymore. Granted, I don’t want to off myself, but there are times I’d like to, to get away from this situation I decided to push myself into.

I was stupid. I always knew there were red flags: the fact that my father would mentally abuse my mother and call her names when she wasn’t around, the fact he’d start arguments with her if he didn’t have his way with something, the fact that he has a tendency to act affectionate in one instant (“lovebomb”) and then cruel the next, his possessiveness and distrust in regards to my mother, his paranoia delusions regarding other people thinking they’re out to wrong him in some way, the list goes on and on. During my childhood, he was diagnosed with schizophrenia, but I’m starting to wonder, is that really what’s wrong? He took the medicine he was prescribed, and while it calmed him down, he was still… him. Nowadays, he doesn’t even take it anymore. He says he doesn’t like the way it makes him feel, and that he’s fine without it.

During his stay here, I’ve tried to make it a point to get him re-evaluated, but he’s fought me on it. Being a Vietnam veteran in the US, he’s been immersed in the VA medical system for a long time, and he outright refuses to go back into it out of distrust. My partner and I have also spoken to him about a mental health evaluation outside of the VA medical system, but we’ve been fought on that as well. It probably doesn’t help that he and I have been both confrontational since he’s moved here, and anything that I try to tell him, he just throws right back at me.

At any rate, though, I’m past exhausted. I can’t even cry anymore, and taking out the rage and pain I feel on objects around me just seems pointless. I know that that’s not the healthiest coping mechanism, but it has been better than ending up wanting to physically hurt my father for all that he’s done and has said to me, or my mother up until the day she died.

There’s a lot more to this story than I’m letting on, but just getting this down in a way that’s cohesive has been difficult. I really need to talk to a therapist about all the issues I’ve been dealing with, and I’d like him to do so as well. I am not his therapist, and I’m no longer a child or a “precious baby” he needs to take care of; I’m just trying to live my life. That said, though, I think I have a plan. Before anyone jumps to any conclusions, this plan doesn’t involve any bodily harm towards myself or towards him. I don’t want to reveal too many details for fear that he might somehow find out through this blog post or otherwise. Just know that I am beyond done with this situation, and my partner and I are taking our lives back.

I’ll keep you all posted. Thank you for taking the time to read this, and to all my friends who have had some inkling on what’s going on, thank you for all your continued love and support. I really do appreciate you all. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to talk to you about everything.

[strgshazam]

Missing Out - Chapter III - You'd better never forget me

While she's smoking, he leans down and starts pressing his lips against her neck. She turns her head away from him and back towards the party to give him more room to work.

That's when she sees Steve Harrington coming their way.

She puts a hand onto Billy's chest before whispering to him, "Sorry babe, fun police is here."

Just as Billy's pulling away to see what she's talking about, Steve makes his presence known. Loudly.

"Harper! The hell are you doing back here?" Though he doesn't say it, she can feel the added 'with him' at the end of that question.

︶꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦

previous | next

a/n: writing has been especially tough because i'm traveling for work right now, but i'm doing my best. also, if anyone is interested in being a beta for this, please let me know!

about: billy hargrove x ofc, slow burn strangers to lovers modern!au

warnings: drug and alcohol use, substance abuse as a coping mechanism, dead dove: do not eat, eventual smut, minors dni, violence

︶꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦

Harper and Billy had been spending a lot of their free time together. Especially once Harper had informed him that she had graduated early the year prior. He was at her apartment at least three times a week - either on the weekend, after school, or when he wanted to skip.

They spent their time as far from sober as possible. When Harper got a new supply in, she was always willing to share with Billy. He wasn’t nearly as upset about the “highway fuckin’ robbery” prices she was charging him for his own drugs since she was sharing all her own shit for free.

Today was no different. As soon as Billy saw her text informing him that she got some new pills in, he was already getting dressed to come over. By this point, Harper didn’t even lock her door when she knew Billy was on his way. He walked right in and made himself at home.

“Alright babe, what’s today’s special?” He was always making sure to make his presence known even if she had heard him walk through the front door.

Harper was sitting on her couch, hunched over her coffee table to cut up some lines of crushed up pills.

“Got some painkillers I haven’t had in a hot minute. Hope you like downers,” she lifted her head to smile at him when he sat down beside her.

“Dunno if I’ve ever really had them. What should I expect?” He picked up the bottle of pills from the coffee table to inspect the label.

"You're gonna feel really relaxed. We can just veg out on the couch," she finished cutting a couple of lines for each of them and rolled up a bill.

"How is that any different than what we usually do?"

She responded with nothing more than a smirk and took her first line before handing the rolled bill to him.

Within the hour, Billy understood the difference. The two of them ended up curled up on the couch together in the dark and silence of her apartment. She had explained that lights and sounds become a bit too intense during this kind of high - he took her word for it.

"Can I ask you something?" Billy whispered against the top of her head, careful to not make too much noise. She nodded against him.

"What made you get into this?"

"The drugs?"

Billy responded with a soft mhmm and Harper let out a heavy sigh. "The short answer is my dad." He pulled back a bit to look at her, "And the long answer?" Her gaze met his, pupils just tiny dots in her eyes. She shook her head and placed the side of her face back against him.

That was enough of an answer for him to drop the subject. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, "Feels good."

She sits up and reaches for her pack of cigarettes off the coffee table. She pulls one from the pack and lights it, offering the pack to Billy.

"You should see what it's like to get laid during this high," she hands him the lighter after he puts his own cigarette between his lips.

"You offering?" She laughs in response, "You know I'm not."

He lets out a chuckle, "Guess I'll have to try it sometime." He readjusts his position on the couch, facing toward her. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before his next question.

"Why don't you want to have sex with me?" Harper looks at him with a confused expression. He had never seemed to be the type to be bothered by rejection. Definitely seemed like he wouldn't be expecting it, but not bothered by it. She decided to feed his ego a bit.

"I never said I didn't want to," she ashed her cigarette and pulled the ashtray closer to the middle of the coffee table so he could reach it more easily.

He ashed his own cigarette, "So what gives?" She let out a huff in response. "Don't take this personally - it's a side effect of the pills. But you're starting to piss me off."

He gave a quick nod, reverting the two of them back into silence.

Before he left later that night, she told him about a party Steve was throwing that weekend.

-

She was there doing what she does best: selling to teenagers. Steve never invited her for that purpose, but she figured she may as well make a bit of cash while she gets drunk, knowing she's able to crash at his house for the night. She had sold a couple of joints to some guy named Ryan before he starting really upping his flirt game.

By the time Billy arrived, she was nowhere to be found. He made his way to Steve in the kitchen to ask about her whereabouts.

Steve gave a shrug when Billy had confronted him, "I dunno, dude. She went upstairs with some dude she was selling to earlier."

The confusion on Billy's face must have been more apparent than he was hoping.

"What's wrong, Hargrove? You jealous?" Steve chuckled before taking another swig of the beer in his hand.

"I- no. She just doesn't fuck her customers," he explained.

Steve let out a hearty laugh at this, almost spitting his beer out directly onto Billy, "Yeah she fuckin' does. That what she told you?"

He was making Billy look like a fool for believing her. And Billy hated looking like a fool. He stormed out of the kitchen, grabbing a liquor bottle on his way. He could still hear Steve laughing as he walked to the backyard.

Harper appeared no more than ten minutes later, chatting with some of Steve's friends by the pool. Billy waited until the group dispersed, dropping his cigarette butt on the ground and stomping it out.

She spotted him as he was walking over, "Hey handsome, I was wondering if you were gonna show up."

"You don't fuck your customers, huh?" Harper was taken aback by the anger in his voice. She sighed, "You talked to Steve, didn't you? I'm gonna kick his ass."

"Why'd you fuckin' lie to me?" he spat. She turned to leave, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into the conversation. "Watch the hands, asshole. You wanna talk about this, that's fine. But lose the fuckin' attitude and we're not doing this here. You can text me when you can stop acting like a child," she pulled her arm from his grip and left to get lost back in the party.

Billy didn't text her for three weeks.

[keefwho]

July 16 - 2023 Sunday

9:40 AM

I’m having the thought that today won’t be a good day. I have this thought every weekend but I accept it as truth. I forget that it’s an assumption of what today COULD be, not something that is bound to happen. I have lots of thoughts like that and I’m trying to make it a habit to put them into concise words and recognize them as only that. They may or may not be true so I shouldn’t assume they are. 

There are things I need to talk about but only when I know I’m evaluated myself better. It sucks because it’s always on my mind and I’m afraid of the answer. Im also afraid I’m not acting from a genuine place but thats why I want to give myself time. I know my heart will let me know what it needs, and that I’ll have to listen to it and accept it. 

12:04 PM

I have so much going on in my head and all I feel like I ever need to do it talk about it but it’s not a good thing to let anyone listen to ALL of it day by day. I do wish I had that person though, someone I could a lot of time with. I feel in my heart thats what I need. Of course I am aware of being too involved or dependent but all I want is more time to interact with and explore each other. I don’t want to think that’s too much to expect from someone because that is what I give. I am extremely devoted and I know it hurts me when I don’t get back what I put in. It shouldn’t but it down. I know this is something I have to figure out inside of myself. I have to balance knowing and working for what I need, and controlling myself when I’m going too far or putting myself in something harmful. 

2:12 PM

I’m losing focus, I can’t forget my main goal right now is just to get perspective on myself. Who am I, where have I been, what have I done, and so on. Im just trying to get a grip on who I am again. That should provide me with the direction I need to go forward. 

My biggest fear is not being able to relate or connect to people. I used to be able to I think, but as friend after friend exited my life, I felt a diminishing capacity to let people in. Even my closest friends I feel myself being shut off towards. I’m trying to cling onto it because I don’t want to shut everyone out. I don’t know whats causing me to keep getting worse. Maybe its been my inability to trust. Even when someone I love tells me they are there for me, as much as I want to believe it, sometimes I can’t. I have all the love I need if only I could accept it.

Watching the Amphibia finale taught me that I am deathly afraid of change and always have been. It makes sense. My family was torn apart at age 5. I went through things at that age that I don’t even remember. I moved house after house, left school after school and friend after friend. All I ever wanted was stability. Then when I got it I didn’t know what to do with it other than cling on. I never wanted anything to change. But they do and they have. I’ve been coping by doing the same thing I have been since high school. Staying on the computer, drawing, and trying to make friends online. Those were cozy times I never wanted to let go. I’ve been living only trying to cling on to what I had and in the process all I do is lose things because I haven’t been able to accept new things. I lack the ability to accept loss and adapt. I live in the past.  

I cry almost every day now. I feel like I’m going crazy.

I’m having the thought that nothing I do matters.

I’m having the thought that I am a lost cause. 

I’m having the thought that I will end up alone. 

I’m having the thought that I am not good enough to improve. 

2:39 PM

I’m REALLY trying to accept that I am not cared about like I want to be. It’s for a good reason, look at me. I get it. But it still hurts. It hurts so much. I’m trying to pry myself off. 

Im having the thought that I’m fucking stupid for thinking I could ever find what I’m looking for. I’m 27 and more alone than I’ve ever been. All because I completely lost who I am and have nothing to offer anyone. I’m a shell.

2:55 PM

I keep doing the same fucking thing over and over and over. I know I am. I know I am being harmful. Maybe the best action I can take is inaction, at least for awhile. I just want to stop messing everything up because of my feelings. 

Im having the thought that no one would miss me if I was the guy that was last online 7 years ago. 

Im having the thought that my whole life is meant to be a tragedy. 

5:55 PM

My self opinion is lower than ever. I’m having the thoughts that my life is falling apart and that I won’t be able to recover. Im afraid to lose Daisy. She’s become such a wonderful person in my life. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to rekindle old friendships. I’m afraid I won’t be able to make new ones. I feel like I’m near the end. I want to recover. 

6:14 PM

I don’t even know how to escape. I have nothing to distract me. Nothing that satisfies me.

7:28 PM

I was distressed enough to call a hotline. I didn’t expect too much but the lady really helped me out. I got a lot out about what’s been bothering me and leading up to this point. I got a little perspective on myself that I need. In general I got a clearer head and I very much appreciate her time. Helen I think her name was. Bless her. She also knew what VRchat was which was funny but no surprising. 

[user13131313-13]

3

It’s still the same day as my previous entry I’ve got a lot on my mind.

I’m frustrated. None of my 4 parents bothered to tell me I was diagnosed with autism as a child and just turned a blind eye and pretended I was neurotypical??

I could’ve spent twenty years learning coping skills and shit but instead whether it was out of fear of alienation by my peers if I knew or had access to resources all this time, instead of skimming my childhood medical records for fun one day after getting them for continued care. And low and behold. My legal name right next to a diagnosis of autism in my assessment notes from a doctor visit I don’t even remember attending honestly.

I wish I weren’t so naive. Like, I’ve struggled to make and maintain friendships and relationships my whole life. And when I realize I’ve been betrayed, I’m quick to burn that bridge. I have four estranged siblings I haven’t spoken to in over ten years each for their own reasons I won’t get into. It makes me sad the people I grew up being closest to are and have been strangers for so long now. It’s weird. I’ve allowed too many friendships to wear me down, hold me back, or kept me around for whatever use they had for me and then I’d be disposed again. Same with relationships.

The only exes I’m on good terms with, were teenage relationships that ended because one had realized she was a woman and wasn’t attracted to me and was so apologetic and sweet when she broke up with me, we’re still good friends. It’s because it was never some big toxic dumpster fire like most of the relationship or friendship endings I’ve had. I’ve fallen into toxic friendships, relationships, unhealthy codependency’s with people who can’t even show up for themselves.

I used to be such a ride or die for my friends but I realized not one of the ones I cut off recently ever initiated anything first. Never texted first, unless it was to vent and then go back to ignoring me. Never made plans, or followed through, or flaked if they agreed to the plans.

I understand it’s hard to be social, it’s hard for me to leave my house. I get that.

But. I feel like I’m not irrational for being upset that the same people who stress me out with their problems, and constantly and continuously avoid me at all costs for over a year each of them. They never checked on me either. I stopped texting first 4ish months ago and guess who I haven’t heard from?

They don’t even know I’d been hospitalized a few times they ignore when I explain I’m struggling with leaving my house and asking them to visit me. I’ve offered gas money when that was a issue, shot down. I eventually even offered to come over to either of their houses despite my absolute dread-level anxiety I feel the moment I leave my front door- I wanted to see them and they would never. Yet they constantly post themselves partying and hanging out together and with other mutual friends and such

So when the excuse they’ve been avoiding me for a year is ‘mental illness’ it’s hard to believe when they’re consistently clubbing every weekend, hanging out with other friends as well as mutuals and even people who LIVE CLOSE AS HELL TO ME. I’m upset I didn’t see it sooner I’m upset I let these people who honestly probably never cared about my well-being stress me out so much for so long.

Since I cut them off, the only thing that’s changed is I have 2 less contacts on my phone and socials. Nothing else has changed really.

I’d rather die alone in a lush field than be surrounded by fake plants.

(I always thought fake plants were tacky. The texture is nice sometimes, but I just don’t get it really. Why get a hunk of plastic that resembles something else that costs about the same? There’s so many beautiful low-effort plants for forgetful plant parents… I don’t know)

[hocusbogus]

Journal Entry: 6 Feb 2023 Monday

I’m writing less and less these days, but I’m learning to not punish myself for it. Writing is an outlet for me and it makes me feel good and unloads a lot of my thoughts and emotions, but at the same time it's not just an outlet, I also wanna get better at writing, and I wanna write as much as I can.

It’s a replacement public holiday today for Thaipusam which was yesterday. Blessed to be a Malaysian with so many public holidays due to our diverse culture and demographic.

I watched two Ghibli movies after I woke up, I am on a Ghibli movie marathon, just because. I’ve been thinking about canceling Netflix hence I tried to find a reason not to, and for now, the Ghibli movies made me keep it. That thought has been lingering in my head for quite some time however what prompted me to seriously consider it was because of that ‘error’ message that Netflix ‘accidentally’ shared regarding the anti-password sharing policy, since my account is shared by the rest of my family I just don’t see the point of having it since I’m not watching anything on Netflix for months! But the Ghibil movies made me keep it, so lucky you Netflix.

I’ve watched Kiki’s Delivery Service, From Up on Poppy Hill, Ocean Waves, When Marnie was There, and The Cat Returns and made a thread on Twitter rating it, just little things I do to continue ‘writing’ with the limited characters offered by Twitter. Ghibli movies’ cinematography never disappoints, I can’t wait to visit the theme park soon!

Two days ago on Saturday, I caught up with Rochelle, I haven’t seen her since her wedding last September 2022 and a lot has changed since I last saw her. Had quite a meaningful conversation with her and I realized that we all have coping mechanisms, some are physical and some are emotional but at the end of the day we are suppressing something, and we are dealing with it the best way we could and know how. We are human just trying our best out here on a floating rock.

I also went to watch Yet To Come in Cinemas with Latun and had an absolute blast, I can’t wait to see BTS live one day, I know they miss performing together more than anything else, I’m so proud of them as artists and as human beings. It’s really hard not to be proud of them, they’re so humble and talented beyond imagination and I’m just so thankful to be existing in the same timeline as them.

I haven’t written ‘titles’ from my journal prompt lists, I don’t know why I’ve been avoiding it, I feel like I wasn’t ready to write them well when in reality I don’t have to write them well, it is called a prompt after all.

But there is one title that I’ve been wanting to write, it’s not part of a journal prompt, it’s something I thought of while scrolling Tik Tok, which is “Female Friendship”, I lost the Tik Tok that inspired me to write about it, but I’ve been putting it off awhile now.

Today was fine, it’s 4.40 pm as I am typing and I’ll work out in a bit since I was on rest days for the weekend, I am also having my period so all the pain in the body is amplified, and will need to take it easy with some low-impact workouts.

It’ll be a four-day work week this week, I’m at least thankful for that, looking forward to the weekend as well.

[the25thviolence]

Its 5pm (Year in Review etc)

I’m tired from the pizza I ate.  I just enjoyed watch my brother’s favorite football team win with him (they never win).   And I’m double listening to a playlist I made to fight god with.  

Now is the time I’ve decided to write my end of the year write up.  This moment.  Right now.  I am about to start writing it. 

Any.

Moment.

It’s.

About.

To.

Start.

One.

Second.

I.

Right.

Now.

I’ll.

Start.

Writing.

I switched jobs 3 times.  From retail (which I said I would never go back to after the retail job before that).  A Plastics factory job thing . And now I cut giant sheets of metal with a laser (not as cool as it sounds, as heavy as it sounds though).  

We’ve moved past the “mom has cancer” part of the storyline and now she’s just kind of hanging out.  Past the delusions of failure and depression.  We have moved onto the “I will grab life by its weak skinny neck and snap it in half if it dares to make the people I care about sad.” arc of the storyline.  

I stopped pining away at night for someone to care about me and now do not care because I’m strong enough to care about myself and everyone else around me.  If the world were to shatter I would simply wrap my hands around it and hold it in place.  If the sun were to fall out of the sky I would simply catch and toss it back where it belongs.  And if it all becomes too heavy for you I would simply pick up what you can’t carry and throw it on my back.  You are worth loving because I love you.  Is that not enough of a reason? 

I thought this writing writeup thing of words etc was going to be a lot longer but this playlist is really solidifying my emotions and shaping them into raw muscles that can lift heavy rocks. 

I made a long late night rant (ok I’ve made 100s of those but I mean the most recent one).  It was about understanding the needs of other thru there own pov instead of your own  It was very long and deep but I only wrote it because I thought my friends wanted me to stop playing overwatch and not that THEY wanted to stop playing overwatch.  Because every time they brought up it I heard it thru a lens of me.  I think people really thought it was something deep but it was just that my friends were super tilted and wanted to play minecraft instead of overwastch and I didn’t understand that because I was fine playing overwatch. 

I guess like this is important or like life affirming.  I finally got with a dentist to fix my team.  99% of my mouth is in ruin from the years, decades, of depression.  like 22 fillings, 2 root canals, a cap, and a completely dead tooth or two.  My advice is see a therapist before its too late and all the emotional pain you have physically ruins your body. 

I stopped writing stories, poems, words in general because I started feeling better.  I’ve always had this desperate need to escape myself when in deep painstaking trauma.  Coping or therapeutic either way it helps me feel better.  And for awhile now I haven’t felt the need to feel better.  I still fall into a fit of depression every other weekend.  But I’m doing the best I’ve been doing in over a year now.  

The past is gone.  The hill has been climbed.  I’m standing on the top of it all now.  Even still.  Even after all this pain.  I still grin while lifting my arms up.  Daring the world to stop me from leaping off.  Daring it to stop me from finding out if I can fly or not.  One more time.  One more try.  The last hundred didn’t kill me.  What’s one more fall from the mountain top to the ground below.  

My current worries are christmas.  I gotta spend at least $100 on friends.  Probably around $75 for my brother and his 4 children that I live with.   Than another $40 for my mom and brother.  And who knows how much on my team nephews.  Maybe $20 or $25 each.  I just gotta find a way and do the math.  

To the wind swept roads of tomorrow.  The sad winner of the Justin lottery.  Probably been waiting a few decades for this lost soul mate to appear.  I’m sorry but I mite never show up.  The world has had a firm grasp on my existence since I was a child.  If you somehow find me in the deep overgrown underground that is my permanent living hell.  I’ll be ripped and cut from the motion of it all.  The great spinning and falling of this life.  A torn tragedy.  I’ll hate you with every breath I take.  I’ll ignore you before I even begin to deny you.  Its not a hill.  Its not a mountain.  Its a flat cliff face.  You mite notice a shortcut permanently covered in fresh winter snow but I advise you ignore that.  Making me care about you is a quick way to get me into your heart.  But it does nothing for the locked gate on my heart.  Frigid like concrete.  Sadly not dramatic like a block of ice.  I cannot be melted.  Only warmed under the hot beating heart of the warm summer sun.  And as soon as you leave, even if only a moment, the coldness will seep into my body freezing it again.  I may be talking to a ghost but I would love a tree if it desired me so.  If a tree loving me made its life happier than I would love a tree.  Splinters and all.  

Well this was far shorter than I expected.  I know I have zero readers and mostly write for myself.  Even if I’m the writer I can also be the reader and I am very grateful to have myself in my own life.  Being alive is so fucking hard.  And dying seems like a fairytale.  But no one ever killed god and permanently smashed opened the waters of grace without first defeating life in a 1v1.