#and like. netflix and chill tonight or something. which isn’t Great but it would be Somethinf

[pergaias]

baby’s first lesbian situationship breakup 🥹

[hereforhalstead]

“I’m all yours” Part 2

*Gif not mine, credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

• Requested: Yes.

• Warnings: angst/Swearing/adult themes/unloving relationship/mentions of mental abuse

• Summary: Part 2 to “I’m all yours” as requested! You can find Part 1 here.

• Words: 6138

• A/N :  Thanks so much for all the great feedback on it and for your continued support - hope you enjoy and that it lives up to part 1! Got the inspo from watching ‘Workin Moms’ on Netflix, highly recommend.. also as before, I do not condone cheating or the treatment of any relationship like this. My inbox is always open if you want to talk and I know it's very hard but remember you're worthy and you deserve the best. Please do not hesitate to let me know if anything in this is too close to the mark as that’s the last thing I want (i might be reading too deep into this but want to be sure I’ve made myself clear

***

“Jay. I need you in here with me” Voight swings the door open, forcing Jay to release you from his tight grasp and turn his back to you as if he didn’t have you pinned to the wall whispering into your ear a few seconds ago. 

“Am I interuppting something here?” his gruff voice questions to which you shake your head “Right well come on Halstead, you’re with me” Voight exits the room, allowing you to finally release the smirk you’d been witholding. Jay turns back to you, running a hand along his jawline as he chuckles but you can still see the hunger behind his eyes as he winks “To be continued”. 

You take a moment to yourself, running your hand through your hair before allowing yourself to lean your back against the wall to take the weight off. It all seemed to happen so fast that you could barely recollect the situaion but all you knew was you hadn’t felt this way in a very long time. That passion building, waiting for the other to lean in first, the way your skin burns when he touches you and the rate your heart is beating even after he’s no longer here was enough to solidify how bad you wanted him and even better, he wanted you more.   

You watch through the one sided glass as Jay and Voight enter the room, Jay now looking as stern as ever, a complete 180 from the man who was just stood before you. He bores his eyes down onto the suspect and you feel your stomach flip at the mere sight of the way he leans his hands down on the desk and towers over the man, finding yourself instinctively chewing at your bottom lip and consumed by thoughts you shouldn't be having at your place of work about your partner. 

You continue to watch, time flying by as you sit back and watch Jay do what he does best but despite how well he can calm Voight down it wasn’t working. Voight was loosing it which was spurring the suspect on to act more of an idiot by the minute, clearly getting some form of pleasure of out of he was getting under Voight’s skin. 

“Sarge, can we step outside a moment?” Jay interupts Voight who currently had the suspect by the collar of his shirt, his eyes dart to Jay and then back to the man who was laughing in his face. You actually felt for the guy, not knowing what he was letting himself in for but also not being jealous of the pair of them currently trying to interrogate him but clearly failing. Voight shoves the suspect back into the chair and storms out of the room to be shortly followed by Jay, you watch as the man seems to stare directly at you and even though you know he can’t see you, you still feel the chills run down your spine at the emptiness behind his eyes and the slight smile he has on his lips. 

You hear Voight and Jay exchanging heated words just outside the door and you flinch when the door to the room you were in swings open  “Y/N, you’re up” Voight orders and you instantly feel sick that you would have to face the suspect who clearly had no means of confessing. Normally you’d stand up for yourself but the way Voight held his fists at his sides and the vein throbbing in his neck it was hardly the situation to argue so you did as you were told. Voight takes your place observing and you exit the room to be met by Jay leaning back against the wall, passing you the file as you approach him “you got this?” he asks with a slightly raised brow, you nod and try to ignore the hand he places on your lower back to usher you into the room with a hushed chuckle “you’re the only one I can rely on these days”.

You didn’t have the most experience when it came to interviews so whenever you were in this room you felt on edge, let alone when you know Voight is burning his eyes into your back and watching like a hawk, but something about Jay being by your side made it that tiniest bit easier. You begin to probe the suspect who was now slouching back in his chair, clearly also at ease by the lack of Voight’s presence and you sat across from him instead. You felt ill at the way he was looking at you and the way Jay’s muscles were tightening as he glared at the suspect didn’t go unnoticed either. “Aren’t you a pretty little thing” he comments with a grossly inapropriate smile and you scoff “Don’t look at her, look at me” Jay extends his arm across the desk to get his attention but it doesn’t work so he’s on his feet and leaning over the suspect in seconds “Lose the grin, or I will lose it for you”. 

You cough to break the tension, already predicting Voight would crash through the door at any moment to stop the interview but luckily there was no sign. You continued your questioning and it was clear neither of you could get through to him “I can’t be asked to sit here and let you waste my time” you sigh, standing from your seat and grabbing the file to exit “leaving so soon, pretty girl? that’s a shame” he comments and you shake your head with a pity laugh. “Where you’re going, you’ll be the pretty girl” you comment, smile spread as his face drops and you see Jay cover a smirk with his hand “she’s not wrong” he shrugs his shoulders, also standing from his seat to join you in leaving the room “enjoy your time in there buddy” he pats him on the shoulder as he passes “you’re gonna need it”. 

You walk down the corridor with Jay, still laughing between yourselves but a sudden silence when Voight appears before you “What the hell was that?” he barks as you stand wide eyed but luckily Jay speaks for you “he’ll confess Sarge, we just need to let him sit”  he reassures but Voight wasn’t satisfied “we don’t have time to let him sit Jay, you’re all gonna swan off to this party tonight so we need to get him by then” he demands “What like you’ve always got them to confess the first time?” he comments under his breath and Voight see’s red.

“I think you need to remember who you’re talking to Detective” he presses his finger into Jay’s chest and you step in “Sarge, you just gotta trust us. We know what we’re doing” you can see he is slightly taken back by the way you defend Jay but he isn’t shocked “just get it done” he groans before storming back into his office to leave you and Jay alone again. "thanks” Jay mumbles, frustration laced through his whisper, you lay your hand on his back and you notice him slightly relax under your touch as you offer him a reassuring smile and a shrug of your shoulder “always”. 

***

Tonight was some big police annual gala and usually you were buzzing for it but tonight just wasn’t the night for it. You and Jay had spent hours trying to break down the walls of the suspect only for it to get you no where, you felt defeated and tensions were running high. It fell to Voight and Olinsky to eventually crack him but after some of their ‘persuasion’ of course.. This left you feeling not as guilty for not getting to him as they clearly used different methods to you and Jay so were incomparable in terms of techniques. 

Even when you had a spare minute to yourself you find yourself replaying what happened with Jay in the observation room, the way he had you pinned and the hunger you could see and feel in the way he grabbed you set something off inside you. You’d barely been alone with him since then due to the busyness of the case but the occasional glances and minor touches as you passed his desk was making the tension unbareable but you still couldn’t ignore the pit in the bottom of your stomach. You still had somewhat of a boyfriend, even if he was a piece of shit who didn’t make you feel wanted, he was still your boyfriend and to your annoyance it wasn’t sitting right with you. 

Jay was everything you needed and you knew he could give you everything you wanted and so much so that it scared you. He was perfect in your eyes and you felt as though you didn’t deserve him, you’d never be able to tell him this as you knew he wouldn’t stand for it but you couldn’t help the way you felt. You were so defeated that you felt as though you deserved a trashy relationship and weren’t good enough to be with someone like Jay. This made you feel worse as no matter how much you desired him you still couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt.

You tried to rack your brain to think of the last time your boyfriend Mike had made you feel half as good as Jay does but you couldn’t even think of anything close. You were trying so hard to give him an inch of self worth but there was nothing, he hadn’t made you feel wanted or even like he loved you yet you still felt bad for showing interest in Jay. You’d have to put your feelings for your partner to one side and no matter how impossible it seemed you’d try to convince yourself he wasn’t for you. 

You’d managed to escape the district without anyone seeing you and by anyone you meant Jay. Unlocking your car and dumping your bag into the back, you jump when you see Jay standing there as you slam the truck down in frustration “You trying to kill me?” you hit his shoulder as you pass but he doesn’t move, instead his eyes scan as you slightly graze him to try and get to the passenger side “You’re just gonna leave without saying anything?” you could feel your heart pull at the hurt behind his words, the concern sweeping across his brows and the way he held his hands together like he did when he was nervous. “I need to get ready for tonight” you fake smile but he wasn’t buying it.

 “So you’re going back to him?” he kicks a stone on the ground and you follow his gaze as he looks back up at you “I don’t have a choice Jay” you plead, causing him to cup your cheeks in his hands to force you to look at him “Of course you have a choice Y/N. You always have a choice” he reassures but you stand in silence, unsure how to respond “If you’re scared of him, I’ll come back with you or hell I’ll go and collect your stuff for you and you can stay with me for a bit” he runs his thumb gently across your cheek and for that split second you can’t hold back your desires as you find yourself leaning into him.

You manage to catch yourself and put your hands against his chest to stop “It was a mistake Jay, I’m sorry for leading you on but it’s not gonna happen”. 

You pull yourself away from him and open the passenger door to get inside before he has a chance to pull you back “ That’s bullshit and you know it Y/N” he leans against your door, speaking through your car window but you keep your eyes focused on turning the key to start the engine before mumbling “I’m sorry” and driving away.

You look into your mirror, watching as Jay stands there defeated with his hands hung low and his head dipped “You’re a fucking idiot Y/N” you curse yourself before taking another look in the mirror to see Jay was gone.

***

You flicked through the dresses in your wardrobe, really not being in the mood for the party was in a strange was urging you to put more effort in to hope it would lift your spirits. You’d poured yourself a few glasses of your favourite mixer and had some music playing in the background to assist in your motivation. Of course you were home alone, what else is new..

You were used to coming home to an empty apartment, after moving in with Mike after just a few dates there was always such excitement to return from work to see him lounging on the sofa and ready to engulf you in his arms but that didn’t last long. He would be out until late, without even so much of a text message which would leave you sitting around waiting before eventually giving up in the small hours of the morning to retire to bed alone. You found it funny at this point, the classic ‘gotta laugh or you’ll cry’ really was how you dealt with it and you thought that was for the best. 

You’d stumbled upon a little satin black dress that you’d bought for your birthday last year but due to staying late at work you never got the chance to wear it so it would be perfect for tonight. After a little touch of make up and keeping your hair simple you stopped to examine yourself in the mirror and for the first time in a while you were surprsingly pleased at who was looking back at you. You’d hardly bothered with your appearance anymore, going out to a party was a rareity so it always did seem to take you back a bit when you looked like this and you were feeling good.

After taking another sip of your drink your mind started to wander, Jay creeping up behind you and snaking his arms round your waist as you admire yourself. His lips pressing into your neck as he whispers into your ear of how good you look and how lucky he is to have you sent the chills down your spine. You’d wrap your hands around Jay’s forearms as he trails his lips along your shoulder, lifting your hair to the other side to allow him access to your exposed skin as he nips lightly at the corner to make you giggle. 

You were so lost in your thoughts that when the door slammed you almost dropped your drink in fright, you quickly downed the remainder before heading out of the bedroom and into the main open place space. Running your hands over your dress to smooth out any creases you look up to see Mike ripping the tie from around his neck and shoving it onto the counter. You stand in the doorway, waiting to see if he notices you and gives you the attention you now so desperately crave, even if it wasn’t from him. 

Instead, he heads for the kitchen and pours himself a drink, takes the glass and slumps on the sofa without so much as a second look at you. You clear your throat to get him to look up but still nothing. With your hands on your hips you strut over to stand in front of the TV so he had no choice but to see you blocking his view. He takes a sip from the glass and shrugs, still trying to look round you to see the pointless comedy show that was playing on the screen “going somewhere?” he questions, eyes still averted from you. You lean into your hip and raise your brows down at him “It’s the gala? You’re meant to be my plus one?”. He takes another sip with a shake of his head “Don’t know what you’re talking about”.

This is the first time you’ve spoken in hours and he already has that look of grimace on his face, looking straight through you as if you’re not even there. Luckily, the liquid courage had made it easier to deal with as you let his words bounce off you, the thoughts of Jay quickly making their way back into your mind. How his jaw would drop if he walked through the door and you greeted him like this, infact even if you were in joggers and a sweater he would still tell you how gorgeous you looked. He’d wrap you in his arms, running his fingertips up and down your sides as he admired his girl standing in front of him with the confidence that no matter how many guys drooled over her she would still go back to him. You wanted to be that girl. 

“Just change your shirt, we’re leaving in 5 minutes” you demand, heading into the kitchen yourself to grab yourself another drink as you had a feeling you’d be needing it. You hear him grumble something as he clambers from the sofa and drags himself into the bedroom, a part of you shocked he actually did as he was asked but the other part regretting reminding him as the thought of spending the night alone with Jay was sounding all the more tempting. 

A few moments go by and you’re sitting at the table waiting for him, legs swinging with your head resting on your hand as your mind is clouded with the thoughts of the all too familiar detective. Was he going to be wearing a suit? Would he need help choosing a shirt and tie combo? You’d sit on the bed as he’d groan into the mirror when he couldn’t work out which one looked better. Turning to you to ask for your opinion as you tie the best looking one round his neck, feeling his breath on your lips as he glares intently down at you. His hands finding their way to your hips as you button the top few buttons of his shirt up before hooking his collar back over the tie. Feeling him watching you’re every move as his grasp on you tightens, sitting back down onto the bed to pull you onto his lap. You swing your legs over each of his as he leans back and pulls you on top of him, his arms keeping you on him as you try to escape as you tease about how you were going to be late-

“How’s this?” a voice interrupts your thoughts, looking up to see Mike in a fresh white shirt tucked into black jeans “No tie?” you ask, slightly dissapointed but he scoffs “It’s not that fancy, don’t know why you’re so dressed up” he comments, feeling the all too normal pit in your stomach as you brush it off “lets go then so we can get this over with”.

**

From the moment you arrived you felt on edge, you hadn’t seen Jay yet and you couldn’t ignore the way your heart dropped at the thought of him not being there. Deep down he was the only reason you’d dressed up, the motivation for you to be there and the only thing you could look forward to was seeing him but still no sign. You were stood at the bar, watching as Mike eyed up every girl that passed like they were piece of meat and it made you feel sick.

You stood chatting with Kim who was soon joined by Adam, draping his arm round her waist as they stood opposite you to make conversation. You could feel Mike wasn’t paying attention and had even taken a seat at one of the bar stools so he wasn’t even part of the conversation. You couldn’t help the thoguhts drift back into your mind, how you knew if you were with Jay he would proudly have his arm round you when you were at an event or even have his hand protecvitely resting on your lower back to let you know he was still there as a form comfort. He’d whisper in how he can’t wait to get you alone, making you giggle as his breath hits your ear to make the hairs on your neck stand on edge. He’d love to tell people how you met at work but always knew there was something more, others would comment on how smitten he was with you and how he looked at you with those doting eyes like you were his whole world and he wanted everyone to know. 

Kim hits your arm in laughter to bring you out of your thoughts but Adam was looking like he could murder. Glaring at Mike like he wanted to lay into him, scoffing at the disrespect and the poor way he was treating his friend. You slightly dreaded how Jay would react and honestly hoped they wouldn’t see each other but it was too late. 

You were chatting away, in efforts to try and distract Adam from the way Mike was behaving when you saw him appear through the crowd from over Adam’s shoulder. It was like a cliche movie, you zoned into him like he was the only one in the room, Kim’s words fading into the background as you could almost hear the laughter falling from his lips as he engages in conversation. You suddenly felt safe, like you knew nothing would happen to you as long as he was there and you just wanted to be tucked under his arm for the rest of the night but you had to play it cool. 

Watching as he heads towards you, drink in one hand with the other stuffed in his pants pocket. The crisp black shirt that was paired with a black tie finished it off, that man could look good in anything but seeing him in all black flicked a switch inside you and gave you that all too familiar feeling of the craving you had for him. His eyes widened when he saw you standing there, roaming your body and admiring every inch before Adam nudged him to get his attention “Bro, you didn’t look at me like that” he acted hurt, his hands on his heart as he pleaded “I just want Halstead to look at me like he looks at Y/N. Is that too much to ask?” he pretends to wipe a tear as you roll your eyes “Look like that in a dress and I’ll think about it” Jay comments, still with his gaze on you as you feel the heat rise to your cheeks “You look alright too I guess” you tease but this is when Mike decides he finally wants to join in. 

“You must be Jack” he extends his hand out to Jay who looks at him with a laughter in disgust “It’s Jay” he grimaces a smile and you try to hide yours by taking another sip of your drink. Mike drops his hand as Jay doesn’t meet his gesture as Kim breaks the silence “Who wants another drink?” she asks and you raise your empty glass “You’ve had enough, don’t want you making a fool of yourself” Mike mocks, expecting others to laugh at his comment but no one does.

You notice Jay’s fists clench at his sides and if Adam didn’t look happy before, he certaintly doesn’t now. Kim places a hand to his arm to calm him down and you only wish you could do the same to Jay but instead you watch as he eyes Mike, only imagining the thoughts that were going through his head as his nostrils flare. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom” Mike announces before excusing himself, leaving you stood in silence as Kim hands you another drink with that familiar sympathetic smile “I’m gonna kill him” Adam scoffs and Jay hums in agreement “You’re telling me”. 

It had been a while since Mike left your side, you’d barely noticed until Kim commented on how long he had been. You took a quick scan of the room but couldn’t see him anywhere and it’s like the feeling in your gut was trying to tell you something as you find yourself heading towards the bathroom before you can think. You march your way through the people, ignoring the calls from behind you and too focused on what you knew you were about to see. You slam the stall doors open one by one but he wasn’t there, a sigh of relief as you didn’t want to catch him out at one of your work parties was soon ruined as you hear a moan coming from down the hall. You storm towards the noises, blocking them out as you get closer and turn the corner to see Mike holding an unfamiliar girl up against the wall with her dress hiked up around her waist. 

You can’t move. As much as you want to scream and run, it’s like your feet are glued to the floor and you can’t move an inch. Instead you stand and watch them all over each other, him with a dare you say smile on his face as their lips intertwine. A sudden noise from behind you forces him to look in your direction, doing the quickest double take when he see’s you standing there but he still didn’t stop. Instead he dug his head further into her shoulder with every thrust, stopping to look up at you with an evil glint in his eye as he clearly enjoyed the fact you’d caught him and wanted you to watch. 

You finally come to your senses and headed back to the bar, no urgency in your walk, anger in your head or even tears in your eyes as you kept your head high and acted as if nothing has happened. As you approach you see the heads turn to you with concern “Where the hell were you?” Kim questions with a hushed tone “Did you find him?”. You shake your head “Want me and Jay to go and look for him?” Adam suggests and you chuckle “If I want to find a body in the river tomorrow, I’ll give you a shout”. 

You down your drink in one as Adam and Kim resume their conversation, Jay brings himself over to you and rests his hand on your lower back as he leans into you “You wanna get some fresh air?” he asks and you nod “like you wouldn’t believe”. He keeps his hand pressed into your back as he guides you out of the room and towards the exit into the majestic grounds of the hall. You can’t help but constantly look through the faces to try and spot Mike but there was no sign, probably still with that girl in the bathrooms or even better he’s taken her home to the apartment you shared and was fucking her into your bedspread. 

As soon as the fresh air hits you it feels like a sigh of relief, it was just you and Jay with no one else around, a complete contrast from the noisy crowded party and you wouldn’t want it any other way. There was a side to you that wanted to blurt it all out, knowing Jay would storm in there and lay into Mike was something you really wanted to see. The anger rising in his body as he clenches his fists, the vein in his neck popping as you confess or the desperation in his eyes as he asks you to tell him where he is, but there was the other side that wanted to keep it bottled up.

You knew the second option was wrong as it would just be another plan of self destruction and there was no way you could go back to that apartment tonight. There was only one person you knew you wanted to leave with and that same person was now the only one standing before you. 

‘Fuck it’ you thought to yourself and there it was, the moment you built up the courage to push your lips onto his. His arms clung at your waist from the sudden contact, pulling you into him but soon retracting when he realised what was happening “What’s going on? You sa-” he began but you leant in to try and cut him off but he wasn’t having it. His hand was still pressed into your back so you were inches apart, his eyes flicking between your lips and back up to your eyes but he was trying to control himself and make sure it was what you wanted. Normally this would make your legs weak at how sweet and considerate you knew he was but you needed him, you longed for him, you craved him and now you had the fear he didn’t want you. 

“You said you didn’t want this?” he questions with a huff “I was lying” you smile “I want you. You know I want you Jay” you yet again lean into him but he puts his hands on your waist firmly to keep you apart “Has something happened?”. Without words he already knows, the way your breath hitches and you harshly swallow was enough to set off the rage in him “Did he do something to you?” you can see his temper rising while trying to stay calm for you “Did he hurt you Y/N?”.

The panic sets in as you see his anger grow “I swear to god Y/N, if he laid a single finger on you”. You instinctively put your hand to his cheek to ground him “Jay he hasn’t touched me” you reassure, wording it carefully to not say ‘he hasn’t hurt me’ as after what you’ve just seen that would take a certain person to not be hurt. He relaxes ever so slightly under your touch and confession but he was still rigid, the frustration running through his body as he tries to scan your face for answers but you’re giving him nothing. 

“Can we just forget him?” you try to push past it, moving your hand down his chest and fiddling with one of the buttons “Or do you not want me?” the crack in your voice kills him, there shouldnt be a shadow of doubt in your mind about how bad he wants you, he’s needed you for so long that he should be taking you to be his right now but there was something stopping him.

“Of course I want you Y/N, are you kidding?” he grips at your waist to further cement his words “I want you so fucking bad that you’re all I can think about” he groans as you pull him closer to you by his shirt collar and just as your lips are about to meet you hear that all too familiar voice call out for you from inside the party. Your head snaps round so fast you’re surpsied you didn’t pull a muscle and the grip on Jay’s collar tells him you dont want to see Mike. 

He switches the position so he was closest to the door, his body shielding you as you cower behind him as he was the only one he could trust to protect you and be the one between you and Mike. 

Mike spots you through the door, clutching onto Jays shirt like your life depended on it but not in a way through fear. You weren’t scared of him as you knew nothing would happen to you as long as Jay was there but it was through a nervousness as you just wanted to forget the situation ever happened and just cut ties but he clearly wasn’t feeling the same way. He points his finger to you as he storms through the open doors, cursing yourself for having left them open as he may not have though to look out if they were closed. 

“Turn around and head back inside” Jay warns, keeping one hand behind his back and ensuring you stayed there “Get away from my girlfriend buddy” Mike scoffs which amuses Jay as he smirks “Sorry that’s my fault for not being clear. Turn around. Head home and stay the fuck away from her”.

You step around Jay but he still keeps an arm on you which you’re more that grateful for “Was she good?” you ask, confidence rising knowing he could no longer bilittle you how he pleased “What?” he questions and you roll your eyes “How was she? Tight enough for you?” you notice Jay straighten up beside you, clearly realizing what’s happened and increasing his anger and determination to end the man standing in front of him.

You place a hand to Jay’s upper arm and squeeze lightly in reassurance. “Go home, I’ll send for my stuff” you scorn but Mike doesn’t move “I don’t know if you heard her but she said go home” Jay takes a step towards him and as much as you trust Jay and know how he acts, this is the first time you’ve questioned if he will be able to stop himself. “You really don’t want me to tell you again” Jay threatens, Mike matches Jay’s step and closes the gap between them when you interject and stand between the pair with a hand on each of their chests.

Looking up to see the fear in Mike’s eyes but the anger and darkness behind Jay’s “Go. Home” you instruct to Mike who pauses for a second to look down at you and then back up to Jay “You’re lucky she’s here otherwise you wouldn’t live to see another day” Jay smirks, putting an emphasis on every word he spits out at Mike. 

The three of you stand in silence, watching as Mike and Jay stare at each other was laughable. Mike didn’t stand a single chance again Jay on a normal day let alone now, he was full of rage and needed an outlet so you feel a sigh of relief when Mike takes a step back and turns to head back inside “If I hear you’ve even breathed near her. I promise it will be the last breath you ever take” Jay calls out to him, his lips puling in an evil smile to which you hit him on the chest. His expression soon changes when he looks down at you and you feel your heart skip a beat, the vengeance in his eyes that told you the inner battle to control himself was getting impossible to ignore. 

“I’m sorry” he blurts out, the least of what you were expecting him to say, the softness as he reaches to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and continuing to trace your jawline with his fingertips. You loop your arms around his neck, leaving one to pull him closer to you as his arms find their way back to your hips with an urgency “I don’t want your sorry” you comment, his thumb runs along your bottom lip as he lightly tugs on the corner at the roughness of his skin “I want you”. 

He didn’t need telling twice, his grip on your waist pulled you onto him. Your legs wrapping round his waist as he steaded you against the wall, rocking his hips into yours as his lips made their way along your collarbone to lightly nip at the skin causing you to yelp “I’m going to show you how you deserve to be treated” he moaned into the crook of your neck with another light blow to the now damp skin from his lips “and we both know, it will be only me that can show you that”.

**

Tag list

@halsteadlover • @musicismyescape27 • @i-like-sparkly-things • @stephanie708 • @upsteadlovingheart

Inbox and requests open🥰

[onceupon]

London Boy - Part 3: I like girls that dance

summary: It’s your first night out and your first real introduction to Westheath. Rafe is quick to find his way on your radar.

pairing: Rafe x reader (slowburn)

warnings: swearing, drinking

word count: 4.6k

a/n: the way I’m imagining Jack Harlow as I write Liam 😩✋also, im pulling these chapter titles out of my ass - but actually tho, go listen to Girls That Dance by Masego 

Part 1 Part 2

Despite your doubts, you put on the sheer top and the black mini skirt Millie and Olivia had insisted you wear. Your favorite pregame playlist plays as you do your makeup in the mirror. You move as quickly as you can, in desperate need of a shot to calm your nerves before your flat fills with people. You’re also nervous about seeing Rafe after that encounter in the kitchen you just had. 

As you run your fingers through your hair and put on your earrings, all you can see is his stupid (and annoyingly attractive) face, staring down at you with that dumb backwards cap, telling you that you guys should watch Game of Thrones together. Every time your mind starts to think if that means something, you quickly shut down the thought. Of course it doesn’t mean anything. Just because a boy wants to watch a show with you does not automatically mean he wants you or that this was going to turn into some kind of Netflix and chill situation. Or was this gonna be a Netflix and chill situation? I mean it was Rafe Cameron after all, the boy certainly had a reputation. But then again, hadn’t he just showed you that he’s different from what you had expected? Oh god this was all too much to think about right now, you needed a shot. Stat. 

“Y/N!” Olivia shouts, swinging the door to your room open right on cue. “Oh. My. God. You look so hot!” she exclaims. “Here, this is for you,” she extends a shot glass toward you with a devilish grin. 

“Oh god what is it,” you grimace. Shots always seemed like a better idea in theory than in practice. 

“Try it and find out,” she smirks. You sigh and send the liquid to the back of your throat, immediately cringing at the sting of raspberry vodka, Olivia bringing a cup of cranberry juice to your mouth to chase. 

“Don’t worry love, a few more and you won’t even taste it. Now come on,” she laughs, dragging you with her to the kitchen. The rest of your flatmates are already there, Millie bopping along to the music, giggling at whatever Topper is saying, Rafe standing close by sipping his drink. 

“Y/n you hottie!” Millie cheers, looking up as you make your way into the kitchen. You pray to god your cheeks aren’t turning pink. You don’t dare turn your head, but you know Rafe is staring at you. If you looked at him now you’d be crimson for sure. 

“Alright everybodyyy,” Olivia begins, pouring the same raspberry vodka into the five shot glasses she has lined up on the table. You can’t help but laugh at her infectious energy, this girl is nothing if not the life of the party. 

“Cheers to our first night out as flat mates! Wooo!!!” she exclaims, as everyone grabs a shot glass from the table, Rafe instinctively passing you one, hands briefly touching during the exchange and again as you all clink your glasses. You down the contents, unsure if the heat forming in your chest is from the vodka or the feeling of Rafe’s passing touch. 

Pretty soon people start to arrive, Olivia and Millie making sure to introduce everyone. The flat becomes a blur of bodies drinking, dancing, and mingling about, and somehow, despite it all, Rafe Cameron is the person you find yourself standing with. There was something magnetic about him that you couldn’t quite understand, but it kept drawing you near. 

“What are you drinking tonight Cameron,” you nod at the cup in his hand.

“Jack and coke. Of course,” he scoffs with subtle sarcasm, which you instantly pick up on. 

“Not straight whiskey? Wow. That’s not very Figure 8 of you,” you admonish playfully.

“Straight whiskey? L/n who do you think I am?” he twists his face in mock disbelief. “But I’m game to do a shot if you are,” he adds.

“Hmm that does-“ you begin, but you’re quickly cutoff. 

“Y/n, babe, if I had known you’d be here I would’ve came sooner,” Liam greets you with a kiss on the cheek and a cheeky smile. 

“Now how on earth do you two know each other,” Millie asks, walking in line with the boy.

“Umm,” you chuckle nervously. You could not have possibly felt more awkward at the conversation unfolding in front of you, Rafe standing by as witness to it all. “He’s that boy I went to the bar with the other night,” you explain sheepishly.

“That was Liam!? Chrissake. Well I apologize on his behalf for anything he said or did.”

“Hey I’ll have you know I’m a proper gentleman!” he defends, throwing you a wink as Millie rolls her eyes. Just at that moment, another group of people walk in through the door, conveniently coming to Rafe’s rescue.

“Rafe!” a girl calls and he clears his throat excusing himself, Millie following suit to greet the latest batch of guests. You watch as he leans in for a hug with the girl who’s just called his name. She’s twirling her hair and batting her eyes, confident, flirty, gorgeous - just his type. A sick feeling pools in your stomach, you don’t even realize you’re staring. 

“Lily Colts, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Liam informs you as he takes the now empty spot next to you.

“Oh, um no, I was just uh-“

“It’s okay Y/n, I get it. So flatmate huh” he laughs, unbothered.

“No no it’s not like that at all I uh-”

“Alright. Y/n,” he says, jumping up to sit on the counter behind him, cracking open the can in his hand. “You know I think you’re hot and you know I like messing with you-”

“Actually I know neither of those things,” you reply indignantly. 

“Yes you do, you’re not dim,” he bulldozes right on, “I can read people pretty well, and there was a vibe there.”

“A vibe?”

“Yeah. Between you and what’s-his-face. You should’ve seen the way he tensed up when I came up to you,” he snickers in amusement.

“Shut up. His name is Rafe, by the way, and there was no ‘vibe.’ Also why are you even telling me this?” you ask, growing frustrated with the cocky brunette.

“Y/n please,” he scoffs. “I told you I can read people, so let me read you. You’re out here in London right, far away from home, keen for a fresh start. You’ve never been one for meaningless flings, but fuck it, if everyone else can do it, why not you? Or so you try to convince yourself, but you know that’s not you. See, you crave that emotional connection, and when you find even a hint of it, you’re a goner. Which is why you’d never actually hook up with me and it’s why you’re staring at that boy from home even though you swear you don’t care, but you do - you feel something there.”

You’re dumbfounded by his ability to know things about you that even you yourself can’t recognize. “I liked it better when you were just flirting with me,” you grumble.  

“No worries darling, I’ll definitely still do that. I’ll even dance on you in the club if you ask nicely, might make pretty boy over there jealous,” he motions with his eyes toward Rafe, at which you give his shoulder a shove.

“You’re an idiot you know, Millie was right on the money with that,” you quip, as the two of you head over to her, Liv, and the boys.

“Please, Millie wishes she could be right on something else,” he says as you shoot him a glare, trying your best to suppress a laugh. Liam was starting to become a pain in your ass, too smart for his own good, but at least he was a funny one.

—

Your first night clubbing was going great. The place was packed, the music was good, and you were having a blast dancing with Liv, Millie, and their friends. You couldn’t help looking around the club though, eyes scanning for Rafe in the crowd. He’d been hanging out all night with Topper and some of the guys from their new soccer team. You longed to be near him somehow, to interact with him again. All your conversations with him earlier today had left you with an excited buzz - you didn’t know what it was about this version of Rafe Cameron in London, but you were actually enjoying his company.

You try to push him out of your mind and just enjoy the moment. It’s not like there was anything between you and Rafe, you had just barely began to form a semblance of a potential friendship today, let’s not get carried away. Besides, you live with the boy, accidentally running into him wasn’t going to be much of a challenge. 

“Anyone want anything from the bar?” you shout over the music to your friends.

“Vodka soda with lime please!” Olivia shouts back and you nod, turning to make your way to the counter a few feet away. You place your order and mindlessly tap your fingers on the bar as a figure appears beside you.

“Hey, Y/n right? Flatmates with Olivia, Mills, and the boys?” the girl asks, and you turn, now face to face with Lily. 

“Uh yeah, hey,” you feign a smile back. 

“I’m Lily, nice to meet you,” she smiles genuinely. “I’m friends with all the Westheath bozos you’ve probably been meeting tonight,” she laughs, “Callum and Henry over there are my best mates. They’re on the football team with Rafe and Topper, we were showing them around earlier. My god you guys have been hoarding some cute ones over there in America.”

You chuckle, “glad that Kildare’s presence can at least be of some benefit.” 

“So, girl to girl here, what can you tell me about Rafe Cameron? He’s such a hottie isn’t he? Would love to get a taste of that,” she smirks, licking her lips.

“Umm I don’t really have much to tell,” you say, unsure of how to navigate this conversation. You could tell her what you thought you knew of Outer Banks Rafe - he’s a rich, party-boy player. But after today, that no longer felt right. You didn’t want to say or presume anything about him at all actually, it felt wrong to talk about him like that. God, what the hell was wrong with you? You spend a few hours with the boy and you already have a soft spot for him? You needed to get a grip. “Our families know each other but we don’t really hang out at home. He’s uh- he’s cool though,” you decide as a sufficient response.

“Any girl friend?” she asks, sliding cash over to the bartender as she orders a shot.

“Rafe’s not really the ‘girlfriend-type’,” you answer, bartender sliding you the drinks you ordered and Lily her’s. 

“Well then cheers to that,” she grins, clinking her shot glass to your drink before she downs it, waving a quick goodbye. You watch as she makes her way back to Rafe and their group, adorning a flirty smile. You feel sick to your stomach. You wanted to hate her, you did. But you couldn’t. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. She was just confident, outgoing, and not afraid to go after what she wanted. There was nothing for you to be angry about, who was stopping you from doing the same?

 But in the back of your mind you decided you could never go after Rafe like that. He would never be interested in you in that way, you were sure of it. You had a hard time believing your friends when they hyped you up, so you definitely weren’t going to believe for a single second that a boy you thought was cool could possibly look at you in the same way. Besides, the mere idea of being rejected by Rafe Cameron, and then having to continue living with him and eventually go back to the Outer Banks for everyone to find out you had been rejected by the kook prince, was so mortifying that the very thought made you want to crawl into a hole. So you promise yourself, right then and there, that you won’t let yourself get hurt like that. You could hang out with Rafe, get to know him, become friends even, but under no circumstances could you be caught wearing your heart on your sleeve. You couldn’t disarm yourself like that and give him the upper hand. You needed to look out for yourself first and foremost, preserving the little bit of control you still had over your life. 

You walk back over to your friends, slipping Liv her drink as her and Jake dance together. Your new friends are all tipsy and in a world of their own, getting lost in the music and their movements.

“Dance with me,” you turn to Liam who’s right beside you.

“I said if you ask nicely,” he admonishes sarcastically, to which you roll your eyes.

“I’m not gonna beg Liam. You wanna dance or not?”

“Sheesh, Lily Colts got your panties in a twist like that?”

“Not. At. All.” You confidently stare into his eyes, sipping your drink. It’s no use, Liam knows you all too well by now, and you curse yourself for the way in which this boy is able to see right through all the walls you put up. You may think these walls are made of brick, but to Liam they’re glass.

He just laughs at you, shaking his head in amusement. He grabs your free hand and pulls you closer to him, your bodies now pressed together. He takes your hand and rests it on the back of his neck, his finding their way to your hips. He plants his leg in between yours and soon you guys are lost in the rhythm. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying every second. He spins you around and you lightly grind your ass against him.

“Damn Y/n, I didn’t know you move like that,” he jokes, as you face forward again. He leans in, his hand on the small of your back, and you feel his breath right against your ear, “he’s looking by the way.” Your breath hitches, but you know better than to turn around. Liam is already one step ahead of you, instinctively twirling you again so you can quickly catch a glimpse of Rafe’s eyes on yours without it being obvious. “Told you he’d be jealous,” he smirks down at you triumphantly.

“Shut up,” you reply, the slightest smile tugging at your lips as your sweaty bodies continue to move to the music.

—-

“Aw flatmate bonding you guysss,” Olivia gushes, as you all sit together at a booth. She had forced you all out of your beds this morning to get breakfast together. Despite being hungover and groggy, you all reluctantly agreed. “Mimosas anyone?” she jokes.

“If I so much as smell any alcohol I think I’ll vomit,” Topper groans.

“Aw, what’s the matter, can’t handle your liquor Tops?” Millie asks, quirking her head to the side.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny. Could ask you the same question. My room is right next to the bathroom, don’t think I didn’t hear your retching last night,” he snaps back, to which Millie turns bright red and soon you’re all hunched over in laughter.

“I think a mimosa would make me yak right now too, to be fair. Coffees all around!” Olivia asserts.

You’re seated across from Rafe as you both scan your menus, your eyes immediately fixing in on the pancakes. The waiter comes by to take all your orders and you can’t help but blush a little when Rafe orders pancakes and you have to follow with a “same for me.” Such a silly, meaningless thing, I mean everyone likes pancakes. But being the only one to have the same exact order as Rafe leaves you feeling embarrassed, for no good reason all the same. You all begin to scarf down your food as soon as it arrives, thankful to have something to soak up the alcohol in your stomachs, as you share stories and laugh about last night’s drunken antics. 

“So how is it that we’re all flatmates and yet I only have Topper’s contact. Come on, add ‘em in,” Rafe says, sliding his unlocked phone to the middle of the table.

“Wait I want snapchats too. Oooh! And instagram!” Olivia pipes, whipping out her phone as well.

“I expect no booty calls Cameron. This is strictly business,” Millie jokes, typing in her and Olivia’s numbers before passing his phone to you. 

“Am I allowed a booty call?” Topper smirks, extending his phone as well.

“I wouldn’t push your luck Thornton,” she smirks back and he pouts in response. You finish typing your name and number into Rafe’s phone and hand it back to him, skin briefly making contact once again. Even though you had known Rafe all your life, somehow you two never had a reason to exchange numbers, only following each other on Instagram which he never posted on anyways.

“Alright everyone, pull up your snapchat codes, I wanna make a group,” Olivia says and everyone obliges, arms crossing every which way as you all add each other. “What should we name our group chat? Ooo can we do a ship name of our schools - like Kilheath or Westare?” 

“I like Kilheath,” Topper chimes in.

“Yeah I bet you do you psychopath. Sounds like the name of a bad horror movie,” Rafe laughs.

“Oooo there’s five of us, we could be the Spice Girls,” Millie beams.

“No.” Topper immediately shuts her down. 

“What about ‘American Boys and Spice Girls.’ You know, like the Kanye West song,” you add.

“Ehh, we’re getting closer, but not quite there,” Rafe teases you and you playfully kick him under the table. “I’m hearing a lot of opinions and not a lot of contributions,” you cross your arms and raise your brows.

“Hey hey hey, I’m a critic, not a chef L/n,” he lifts his hands in surrender.

“Ooo I got it! We can call it the ‘Royal fam,’ like the royal family,” Olivia suggests, finally getting approval from the whole group. Breakfast is soon over and you all return to your rooms, eager to nap away the remainder of your hangovers. You lay in your bed and stare at the newly formed snapchat group on your phone. Royal Fam 🇬🇧🇺🇸 appears on top and you scroll down, looking at Rafe’s username and bitmoji on your screen. You laugh at the fact that even his bitmoji wears a backwards cap. It was weird, having him in your phone like this. You had known this boy your whole life, but you two had always operated in separate spheres. And here he was, in your Snapchat, a glimpse into the life of Rafe, of which you only ever got a birds eye view of back home. It almost felt like you were trespassing somewhere you didn’t belong, having access to him like this. You sigh and lock your phone. Rafe Cameron really isn’t all that bad.

—

The next few days fly by fast as you become acclimated to Westheath. You and the rest of the Kildare kids attend an orientation with Westheath’s exchange advisor, spending the whole time with your little trio: you, Rafe, and Topper. When you had first arrived abroad, you were deadset on forging your own path in London and steering clear of everyone else from OBX. But hanging out with Rafe and Topper made you all but forget. It was fun and easy hanging out with them, in fact, counterintuitively, they were helping you forget all about the Outer Banks, just as you had hoped to do. Your conversations centered around your interests, your new lives, on random jokes and made up bits. It was almost as if there was a mutual unspoken agreement between you, them also trying to escape and forget their lives in OBX.

Pretty soon classes began, and you were learning a new schedule and adapting to British schooling. Your evenings were spent singing and dancing in the kitchen as you, Liv, and Millie simultaneously cooked your dinners, getting pints at the pub around the corner with your Westheath friends, and playing card games at the kitchen table with Rafe and Topper, the smack talk between you three flowing strong. There’d be short moments where you’d find yourself alone with Rafe - he’d explain to you whatever Premier League team was playing that day, you’d show him how the coffee machine works, and the occasional passing comments of “so when are we finally starting Game of Thrones, Cameron?” “I’m ready whenever you are, L/n.”

—

It was a Wednesday night, and you were curled up in your fluffy gray blanket watching Gilmore Girls in bed. You found the show comforting and familiar, the small town of Stars Hallow reminding you of what you wished your life in the Outer Banks could be like. Instead it was more like the cold and pretentious atmosphere of Chilton and the older Gilmores’ Hartford life. Your phone buzzes, and you pick it up lazily to check, suddenly freezing at the notification on your screen.

Snapchat: Rafe Cameron

You had opened a few snapchats from the boy over the past few days, but they were always random ones he would send to the group chat. This one was just for you. You gulp and put your phone down, not wanting to open it too fast. A few minutes go by and you realize you haven’t paid an ounce of attention to the show on your screen, even though you’re staring right at it. Fuck it. You open your phone and tap on the unread snap.

When are we watching Game of Thrones L/n the snapchat says, a picture of his laptop on his bed and the HBO Max home page open, the series featured in the corner of the screen.

You snap back a picture of your blanket and the laptop playing Gilmore Girls in front of you: ready whenever you are Cameron.

Almost immediately you get a response back.

Rafe Cameron: wait are you home rn? His message is accompanied by a random picture of his room, a view you let your eyes linger on until the message expires. Another peak into Rafe Cameron’s world.

Y/n: Yep! You send a blurry selfie of you wrapped in your blanket.

Rafe Cameron: be over in 5

You leave that last message on open and your heart starts to race. Just breathe Y/n, breathe, you keep telling yourself. It doesn’t have to be a big deal if you don’t make it out to be. It’s just a show. Just a show. And besides, you guys are friends now, right? You sit up in your bed and grab your pillow, shifting over to sit horizontally on your mattress. That seems more casual to you, more ‘just a couple friends watching a show together at a comfortable distance’ and less ‘sitting right on top of each other Netflix and chill’. You gulp down some water to ease your dry throat when you hear a gentle knock.

“Come in!” you call out, and now Rafe Cameron is in your room, eyes absorbing all the details that are so you. The posters on one wall, film camera photos on another. The string lights which wrap around your room and give it a warm glow. The plants, the subtle scent of vanilla. The bag you always carried with you, hanging off the side of your chair. He almost felt like he was intruding, like he was getting an intimate glimpse of something that was for your eyes only. 

“Whats up,” he says, holding his laptop and closing the door behind him. 

“Ready to finally start the show,” you laugh, “it’s about damn time.”

“Hey, I’ve been ready, it’s you who’s been taking your sweet time.”

“Is that so?” you ask sarcastically and a smile forms on his face.

“What are you doing over there? Who sits like that on their bed?” he asks, now coming over and taking a seat on your mattress facing vertically, propping your other pillow behind his back. “Can’t even stretch out your legs or anything,” he continues, patting the spot on the bed next to him, signaling for you to come over.

“I don’t know, I think it’s comfy,” you lie as you crawl over to him, your first line of defense already shot down. 

“Weirdo,” he chuckles to which you nudge him in the side with your elbow. “If Topper’s wrong about this I’m gonna give him so much shit,” he says.

“Topper does have a lot of questionable opinions,” you laugh, “but I have a good feeling about this one.

—

One episode turned into two turned into three, you and Rafe instantly hooked. The nerves you had felt earlier at sitting so close next to this boy in your bed had all but dissipated, you quickly acclimating to the space he took up next to you. Even though by now all your previous misconceptions about Rafe had disappeared, replaced with the boy you had come to know over the past week, there was a small part of you that was still waiting to see if he’d try to pull something on you, like the Rafe you imagined back home surely would. Of course he didn’t, watching and discussing the show with you, making you feel as comfortable as if you two had been friends for years. You almost felt bad for having had doubted him in the first place.

When the third episode ended and you two got into a long post-episode discussion, you hardly noticed when the conversation began to digress. You both started to sink lower and lower down into your pillows, until you were both laying on your backs, staring at the ceiling and lost in exchanges of words and thoughts. The conversation was different this time, more candid and open, as if the shadow of the night was inviting you to divulge thoughts you wouldn’t have shared in the day. He spoke of his strained relationship with his father and you shared the silly drama that had caused a riff between you and your former friends back home. He showed you pictures of his dog and you showed him the video you had been working on all summer long in OBX, not having anyone to hang out with before you left for London. He talked about how he felt so disconnected from almost everyone on that island, and you nodded, understanding all too well. The conversation continued to ebb and flow, the occasional funny video or meme pulling you two into fits of laughter before seamlessly delving into another vulnerable train of thought. You both had your Spotify accounts open now, taking turns sharing your favorite songs. You put on a playlist you had made over the summer, full of songs that made you feel at peace. 

“This puts you at ease huh,” he says.

You turn your head to look at him, “how could you tell?”

“I don’t know. I guess just the way your whole body relaxed the second you pressed play,” he replies.

“Yeah,” you say turning your head back toward the ceiling. “I know it sounds cheesy, but I feel like these songs are speaking to my soul or something,” you whisper.

“Yeah I get that… I have those too,” he whispers back. Neither of you realize it’s already 5 am and neither of you notice as your eyes both get heavy and sleep washes over you, playlist in the background like a lullaby. And at some point during your deep sleep, Rafe’s arm has found itself unconsciously wrapped around you.

---

Part 4

a/n: lemme know what you think!(:

[feliix]

more than friends (with benefits) ↠ felix

↠ Felix x Reader

↠ Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst, FWB!AU

↠ Rating: M (18+) ↠ Word Count: 2k

↠ Summary: You always thought being friends with benefits with Felix was a dream. At least, that was until the benefits starting outweighing the friendship and your feelings got sucked in.

↠ Warnings: friends to lovers, fwb to lovers, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, praise, multiple orgasms, mutual pining

↠ A/N: hi sorry this is very unedited I might go in and fix stuff later sorry Im lazy right now and banner creds to me okay enjoy!

“So wet for me,” his deep, gravelly voice fills your ears, the room spinning around you with each buck of his hips. Teeth sinking into your lip, you grasp for the sheets beside you. His rhythm is quick, persistent, and you’re unable to catch your breath.

“Felix,” his name leaves your lips in a high pitched whine. It's getting harder to hold on with a pace like this. Had you not already cum twice just tonight, maybe your stamina would be a bit higher. But the familiar knot in your stomach is getting tighter and tighter as his thrusts persist. 

It's not long until you're coming undone around him. The force of his hips driving into you, the firm grip his hand has on your ass sets you aflame. Just a few more powerful ruts; he’s angling himself just right to hit that sweet spot deep inside you. And that's when your legs begin to shake, the force from your third orgasm taking over.

A gentle scream escapes your mouth as you ride out your high, Felix’s pace only quickening to grant himself an orgasm of his own. Oversensitivity sets in quickly causing your eyes to slam shut in dismay; mind blurry with small white stars as your pussy continues to spasm around him.

“So fucking tight,” Felix’s thrusts persist through your orgasm, leaving your legs shaking and all you can offer is the tightening spasms of your pussy. You clench around him rapidly, enticing him to come to his finish. “ Fuck, baby. Such a good slut for me.”

Unable to catch your breath as your orgasm begins to subside, the sound of his voice shooting right to your core and letting out an extra gush of arousal. Felix takes this as a sign to go harder, busing himself by pounding into you. Each time his hips meet your ass he leaves a gentle slap on your supple skin. When he bottoms out your back arches instinctively. The pressure of his tip on your sweet spot drives you wild, your fingers grabbing for the sheets underneath you to hold onto. 

But him fucking you from behind causes you to miss the sweet contortion of his face as he reaches his high. You can only feel the grip he has on your waist tighten, the pads of his fingers pressing deeply into your skin as he ruts into you with such fervor. 

He doesn’t pull out, you’ve already told him that he doesn’t have to. All that's on your mind is being filled to the brim with Felix’s cum. “Fuck,” you’re aching for his release, squeezing your core as hard as you can to ease it from him, “want you to fill me up.”

With a few especially hard thrusts Felix is collapsing over you, holding you close as his cum paints your walls. The pace of his thrusts slows as soon as his hot body presses against yours, eyes fluttering shut as you both come down from your highs.

If you didn't feel his heavy breathing fanning over the back of your neck you may have forgotten where you were. The labored sound of breathing fills the room around you. His rapid heartbeat pounds against your back; it's slowing now, that's how you know he’s about to pull out.

It's the same routine every time. He comes over, you fuck, you cuddle, he leaves.

Which is okay, the two of you aren’t dating or anything. You’re friends with benefits; emphasis on the benefits half and a little less stress on the friends part. This isn’t how it’s always been. Things used to be the other way around, ironically. 

Felix was your best friend, it wasn’t until you initiated this little arrangement that things changed. 

It’s a blur how it all came about actually. Just one day you got a little too worked up while looking at his plush lips, making a move and changing the dynamic between the two of you forever. After letting him fuck you once, you never came back from that.

The Netflix nights faded into the dark as the Netflix & chill nights came more frequently. It isn’t something that you noticed at first, you were into it, gosh, why wouldn't you be? So many girls would love to be in your place – hooking up with their highly attractive guy best friend. But over time you began to miss the relationship you used to have. Watching a movie without pausing halfway through to have sex is unheard of now. You can’t remember the last time you were actually able to do that. 

The worst part is you think you might be missing something else. The more you hookup the more you find yourself longing for him – not just his touch. When he leaves, you feel lonely. Not just the ‘I’m alone’ lonely, either. You want to be with him all the time, spend time doing fun couple-y things in addition to the hot sex you have every night. You want more from this, you need to be more than friends.

And before you know it, Felix’s body is relaxing as he pulls out of you slowly, a trail of cum following in its path beginning to drip down your thigh. A deep sigh leaves your lips when the weight of Felix’s body flops down onto the mattress next to you. You want him to know you’re bothered, you’re just too scared to bring it up on your own.

It doesn’t seem that he notices, though, he just lets out an exhausted grunt in return. In a split second reaction, you sigh again, trying to cover it up by extending your limbs to look like you’re stretching. The second one may have been a bit too dramatic; Felix noticed it this time, the look on his face riddled with confusion.

“Something wrong?”

Oh, great. Well, you got what you wanted, not having to start the conversation but you’ll definitely be the one to ruin it. You could just deflect, say ‘nothing’ and carry on the way you were – but that won’t do much to help your own feelings. 

“Actually, yeah.”

The phrase surprises you just as much as it surprises Felix, you just do a better job of covering it up than he does. His eyes are wide, head turned in your direction now as he begins to sit up. Luckily both of your clothes were in close vicinity – this probably isn't a conversation that neither of you wants to have naked.

Or have in general, for that matter. But getting dressed is a nice way to avoid eye contact, which seems to be the only thing you’ll be able to avoid in this awkward moment.

“What’s up?”

The concern in his voice is prevalent. He’s doing what he can to stay calm but deep down he’s worried. The meek thought of you cutting him off crosses Felix’s mind briefly; a pang of anxiety cuts through him like a knife. And he doesn’t do a great good job of hiding it, but thankfully you’re too caught up in putting on a shirt that you don't notice. 

Guilt starts eating away at you once you realize what you’re doing, what you’re about to tell him. This could ruin everything between you. You don’t think he’ll cut you off, no; but chances are you tell him and things will change forever. The second you speak up about it will determine your future with Felix – if there even is one.

“Have you ever thought about,” your voice stalls, letting a deep breath pause your thoughts in an attempt to ease your mind, “not just having sex anymore?”

“You wanna stop hooking up?” 

“N-no, that's not what I meant!” The words fly out of your mouth more forceful than you intended, and before you're able to stop yourself from spilling them. A puzzled look quickly crosses Felix’s face as he waits for you to continue. There’s a strange tension beginning to surround you, making your palms sweat and stomach twist. 

The air is feeling heavier as thoughts are flooding through your mind. The longer you prolong this conversation the more it's going to hurt you in the end, “Things have just...changed.” 

His head nods along with your words, bottom lip caught between his teeth as his face sinks. Somewhere along the timeline of between being best friends and friends with benefits, that friendship you had was lost. It isn't just you who realized that.

“Because I have feelings for you?”

“Y-you what?” 

You have to pinch yourself to make sure that this is real and what you heard Felix just said was true. But he finds humor in your response, a breathy chuckle leaving his lips as your jaw slowing drops. All this time and you both have been oblivious to each other's feelings…

“I thought you knew that…” His voice is soft, trailing off at the end as embarrassment creeps up. A rosy blush tints his freckled cheeks, soon covering them as he buries his head in his hands. 

“You never told me that,” you chuckle endearingly, butterflies pounding at your chest as heat rises to your cheeks, “did you know that I have feelings for you?”

“Noooo,” his voice is playful, head sinker deeper into his hands as small giggles leave his lips.

It a split-second reaction your hands are taking hold of his wrists, gently moving them from his face to look at his eyes. They’re narrowed into squints, his face squished into a smiling mess as his ears are red with embarrassment. 

“So were you just not gonna tell me?” You say in a joking tone, doing your best to ease Felix’s nerves. 

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

The mood of the room suddenly shifts. Felix’s smile is quick to fade, his cheeks settling back to normal as his eyes slightly widen. Your heart twists with his words – the thought of losing him to something so silly hits you like a million bricks. Sucking in a deep breath, he reaches for your hand, noticing the change of your expression and giving a sympathetic smile. Your eyes follow the trace of his tumb over your hand, stroking the skin lightly as you sit in silence. 

You wonder if that thought has weighed heavy on his mind for a while, how long he’s had feelings for you. It must have hurt him feeling like this was nothing more than sex to you; if only he knew.

“You wouldn’t.”

Felix’s eyes light up at your words, his hand gripping yours a little firmer now. The butterflies you first felt are still there, flapping away in your stomach each time the corners of his lips curl up into a smile. Just when you thought you couldn’t fall any harder there he is, cheeks blushing as his head turns to face you. A swift hand is brought to your neck, holding it as he effortlessly moves in towards you. 

Your heart pounds in your chest as he moves closer, focusing your eyes on each of his features; catching his tongue swipe across his bottom lip. His face is just centimeters from yours, his eyes staring down at your lips and his hot breath fanning across the soft skin of your cheeks.

“I love you,” his deep voice whispers over your lips. You aren’t given enough time to return the words before he’s moving in closer.

Time stills in slow motion when his soft lips meet yours; the world could stop turning but all that would matter is that you are here, right now, in this moment with Felix.

‘More Than Friends (With Benefits)’ is copyright 2020 @chaangbin​​, all rights reserved. Please do not repost on any platform or translate without permission.

[ruzek-halstead]

the one that (almost) got away

"my friend dragged me to this party and i just saw my ex - quick, make out with me"

university au

masterlist || ao3

x

It was a month before finals and Julie's to-do list was piling up. Her music courses were slowly starting to drive her insane (best program in the country my ass) and she had absolutely zero time to even breathe, much less be dragged to a party by her roommate.

The past few months had been filled with lectures, compositions, performances and impromptu Netflix binging sessions. She was already stressed enough with everything happening academically, it didn't help that she found her boyfriend of two years on a romantic dinner with another woman (I mean, his tongue was down her throat, what would you make of that?). It hurt like hell, don't get her wrong, but having him out of her life didn't bother her as much as it probably should have. Luckily, she kept herself distracted with classes, extra-curricular activities and her best friend and roommate, Flynn.

"You're going," Flynn stated with the utmost serious expression. She busied herself with rummaging through her closet to find the perfect outfit for tonight's frat party, while Julie focused on the lyrics splayed out in front of her for composition class. "You've been so focused on school that you haven't had any time to enjoy the night life."

Julie rolled her eyes without sparing a glance at her best friend. "Yes, because I'm in university because of the night life," she sassed, "it has absolutely nothing to do with excelling in the most prestigious music program in the country so I can become famous and fly you places in my private jet."

"Details," Flynn muttered, waving her hand in her direction. "Alex's frat is throwing the party, so it won't be overly crazy."

Flynn and Julie made eye contact and Flynn cringed at the unimpressed look on Julie's face.

"Okay, so maybe I can't control that," she admitted. "But still, Alex says you have to come! You can finally meet some of his friends!"

Julie snorted. "I know his friends. I don't like his friends."

"You know Luke," Flynn countered, "you haven't met Reggie or Alex's boyfriend, Willie! And Luke isn't that bad, I promise; he's super sweet."

"Sweet?" Julie spit, eyes widening in annoyance. "He pushed me into the pool at that last party!"

Flynn cringed, yet again. "Okay, yes," she relented. "But it was more like 'he knocked you' into the pool because he was trying to catch the football. And he did!"

"Excuse me for not caring!"

"Just trust me, okay?" Flynn busted out her puppy dog eyes as she jumped on Julie's bed. "They're great, and we can't discuss this anymore. You need a break and you're going. I don't care if you leave twenty-minutes after you get there; you are making an appearance."

Julie and Flynn engaged in a brief stare down, to which Flynn ended by pushing against Julie's shoulder.

"Fine," Julie reluctantly agreed, "I'll make a brief appearance, and I'll meet Alex's friends. But as soon as Luke says something stupid, I'm leaving. Is that clear?"

Flynn's face broke into an excited grin. "Crystal clear, girl!" She squealed. "Oh my god, put your lyrics away. We have to start getting ready right now!"

x

Julie entered the frat party with a newfound attitude and a clear mind. Flynn forced her to take two tequila shots before leaving their apartment, so she could forget about her studies, and so far, it was working. She also didn't want to be the only buzzkill at this party, so she promised herself and Flynn that she would actually try to have some fun.

"There you go, there's that smile!" Flynn cheered, nudging Julie in the direction of the drinks. Together they mixed a creative concoction and set out to find Flynn's good friend, Alex.

They found him relatively quickly; he was dominating at the beer pong table. When he saw  Flynn and Julie, his face lit up and he tapped a random guy next to him, shouting, "sub in for me, my bestie's here!"

With that, he ran over to Flynn to give her a bone-crushing hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek (he was definitely more than two shots and a cocktail in). "Hey Jules!" He greeted the brunette, wrapping her under his other arm. "Ah, my girls are here. I have to find the guys!"

"Julie's going to love them!" Flynn added, following as Alex pulled them along. He pulled them until they stepped into the backyard where the party was just as lively as inside. "Look, there's Reggie!"

Alex dragged them over to two guys who seemed to be in a heated conversation.

"I can't believe you don't like The Office!" The one with a red flannel shirt tied around his waist exclaimed, throwing his arms up for emphasis. "Michael Scott is the single greatest character ever created."

The other one with his hair tied up in a bun rolled his eyes. "If that's what you think, then you need more help than I can offer."

"Whatever," Red Flannel replied, turning his attention to the newcomers. "Flynn, you're here!" He exclaimed, reaching over to give her a hug. "I'm Reggie!" He told Julie excitedly.

Julie sent him a polite smile. "Hey, nice to meet you. I'm Julie."

"And this," Alex yelled drunkenly, wrapping his arms around the other brunette, "is Willie! He's my boyfriend!"

Willie let out a laugh. "He is so wasted. Nice to meet you, Julie."

Julie sent him a warm smile in response.

Alex turned his attention to Julie. "Julie," he slurred, wrapping an arm around her shoulders again, "is Flynn's best friend and roommate. I've been trying to get her to meet you guys for ages. Wait, where's Luke?"

Julie's shoulders stiffened.

Reggie shrugged. "Who knows."

"I'll go find him," Alex muttered. "Go get another drink, mingle, but you're not allowed to leave until you meet Luke!" He yelled to her as he walked backwards across the room (he was definitely going to trip). "No leaving!"

"Is he forgetting I've already met Luke?" Julie whispered to Flynn, who just shrugged.

Willie hesitantly started after him, turning to say, "I should probably make sure he doesn't do something really stupid."

"And I'm going to go mingle," Julie replied, turning to Flynn who look thoroughly unconvinced.

Flynn pursed her lips. "You better not leave."

"I won't," Julie laughed, "I promise."

With that, they all went their separate ways. Julie stayed outside and watched the beer pong championship for a while, but eventually decided to go back inside because the chill was getting to her. She was also hoping to find Flynn because her 'mingling' was getting boring and she was inching to leave.

She walked back into the building, intent on getting herself a new drink to pass the time. She was about to turn into the kitchen, when she spotted a very familiar face that she hadn't seen in a number of months.

Her ex-boyfriend, Ryan.

And the girl he cheated on her with.

"Oh my god," she muttered, ducking out of the way. She made eye contact solely for a solid millisecond but she knew he saw her. "Fuck."

In her attempt to escape and leave the house party (and the university, if she's being honest), she ran smack into a hard body. "Shit," she heard a deep voice. "Are you okay?"

His hands were wrapped around her upper forearms and she looked up to realize they belonged to her one and only nemesis, Luke Patterson.

"Oh, it's you! Pool girl!"

In any other circumstance, she would probably wrap her hands around his throat and squeeze but she was genuinely too panicked.

"Julie?"

Oh god, Ryan was calling out for her.

"You pushed me into a pool months ago, right?"

Luke's eyebrows narrowed. "Okay, well, it was a little more complicated than that..."

"But you owe me!"

"Uh — sure?"

He looked genuinely confused and regardless of how smart Julie considered herself to be, she was incredibly dumb when it came to men and social situations.

Which is why she uttered, "I'm so sorry, but my ex —" before crashing her lips against his. He seemed to freeze, his hands loosening their grip on her forearms.

Julie quickly doubled back, realizing how stupid of an idea it was. It was Luke, and even though she wasn't particularly a fan of him, she had basically just mauled him without even asking for consent.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry," Julie apologized quickly. He was staring at her as if she had three heads. "I'm so sorry. I just saw my ex-boyfriend with the girl he cheated on me with and he was calling my name and I figured, 'oh, why not just make out with someone so he doesn't think I'm a complete —'"

This time, Luke interrupted her with a wicked smirk. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She squeaked in response, but was distracted when he tipped her head back and kissed her. It was soft at first, but he pressed harder against her mouth with an intensity that momentarily took Julie's breath away. His body pressed further against hers, until they rested on the wall behind her.

A moment later, he pulled back and admired her shocked expression.

"How was that?"

His voice was soft and warm and Julie was so stunned, it took her a moment to reply.

But when she did, her recollection and sass came full force.

"Good enough, I guess," she lied through her teeth (it was fucking fantastic). "Your debt is paid, thank you. And stay away from the pool."

With that, she whirled around, dead set on walking away. She was so mind-blown from the kiss, she completely forgot Ryan was still behind her.

"Julie!"

"Shit."

She didn't realize she said it out loud until Ryan's eyebrows furrowed.

"Babe! Wait for me!" The obnoxious voice of Luke Patterson rang through her ears before she felt his arm wrap around her shoulders and hang off her neck. "I'm Luke, Julie's boyfriend. Who are you?"

Julie cringed. She wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Right now.

"I'm Ryan," he answered apprehensively; his new girlfriend was nowhere to be found. "Nice to meet you."

"Is it, though?" Luke replied and Julie's eyes widened. She whipped her head to glare at him, but he was too focused on Ryan. He was wearing a playful smirk but the look in his eyes was everything but playful. "You're the one who cheated on my girl, isn't that right?"

Ryan's face went pale. "I should probably go... Nice to see you, Julie."

"Yeah, you probably should go! Wouldn't want my fist accidentally connecting with your nose!"

Julie's eyes widened and she angrily pushed Luke away from her. "Oh my god, what is wrong with you?"

"I was defending you," he explained like it was obvious, "you're welcome, by the way. Or maybe I should be thanking you," he winked.

Julie never wanted to die as much as she did in that moment.

"Oh my god," she muttered, utterly mortified. "Do you even hear yourself?"

Luke smiled cheekily. "Yeah, I do. And that was," he made the chef's kiss motion. He actually made the chef's kiss motion; Julie wanted to throw up. "Do you think we could continue that? Maybe go out to dinner or something?"

Julie blinked.

"This may shock you, but not everyone here likes you," she replied after a moment. God, this whole situation was getting so far away from her.

Luke smirked. "Sounds ridiculous, but go on."

"You pushed me into a pool, I don't need to like you! And I appreciate you helping me out with my ex, but that was all! This ends here!"

Luke's eyes softened, but there was still a wild gleam in them.

"No."

"No?" Julie spluttered. "What do you mean no?"

Luke shrugged. "You can deny it all you want, but our kiss was definitely something. And I may have my moments, but I'm not dumb enough to let something like that go."

Julie found herself stunned once again.

"What the hell is going on right now?"

"And yeah, I probably could be more charming," he admitted. "And I really am sorry about the pool thing. That wasn't supposed to happen like that!"

Julie looked around for Flynn or Alex or literally everyone who could save her.

"So, what do you say? Dinner on Friday?"

Julie barked out a laugh, but she had to admit, he looked adorably optimistic. She took a moment to admire his appearance and obviously he was ridiculously attractive but — she really had no reason to object.

"Are you out of your mind? I hardly know you!"

"That's the point of a date, Julie. Keep up," he teased, his hazel eyes sparkling.

Julie was genuinely starting to feel faint. This was too much action for one day.

"Slow your roll, Casanova."

Luke's eyebrows rose in amusement. "Want me to slow it down? Even though you just had your tongue down my throat?" Julie squeaked in indignation and Luke chuckled. "Shit, I'm really bad at this whole charming thing apparently. Can I start by getting your number?"

"I honestly don't understand what's happening right now. So, I'll give you my number, but you have to work your ass off for that date."

Luke nodded, biting his lip to hold back a smile. "Yeah, that sounds fair.”

“Oh, look!” Both of their head swivelled around to see Alex, stumbling drunkenly in their direction with Flynn by his side. “Julie met Luke!”

“Dude, they’ve already met. How drunk are you?”

“Wait, why does Luke have lipstick all over his face?”

[moonlightdreamzz]

Cozy — Jeon Jungkook

A glimpse into you and Jungkook’s love.

Request: Hi! I saw your writing and I enjoyed reading your works. I saw that you needed some request so here I am. I was wondering if you could write an imagine with BTS’s Jungkook where he comes home to the reader online shopping or something, and it’s a very touchy, lusty, feel. But lots of soft and subtle gestures towards one another. Sorry if it’s a bit much, it took me a lot to request 😬 but thank you for hearing me out! 🤗

Jungkook doesn’t understand why he gets like this doing something he does everyday. I mean, with all of his other daily routines he didn’t get nervous. Singing, dancing, speaking infront of others; these were all things that he just couldn’t get nervous about doing even if he tried.

But right now he’s standing infront of the door to his own apartment, and he finds himself taking deep breaths. His hand is on the keypad, but they’re not moving to type the code in.

“You’ve been dating this girl for almost two years now.” He chuckles to himself, knowing this was ridiculous. “She’s your girlfriend, and you see her practically everyday. Go inside.”

And as always, he listens to himself. He puts the code into his keypad, and steps in quickly. His shoes slip off his feet with ease as all he had to do today was re-record some things for the new album; no dancing.

Before he creeps around the corner, where he knows he’ll find you either asleep on the couch, or scrolling through your phone as you wait for him to come and kiss you all over, he always likes to listen. Sometimes you’ll hum, and it has to be the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. You always say you can’t sing, but he’s listened in to your little concerts too many times to count, and knows it’s the opposite.

Sometimes, you’ll even be watching tv. He has a little guessing game he plays with himself to see if he can guess what you’re viewing, and he has to admit, he’s getting better at it. His favorite though was to hear you laugh. You always kept him up to date with twitter slang, and what was considered funny between his fans and such, but when he would hear you burst into a fit of chuckles and heavy sighs; it was music to his ears.

The house is silent right now, but not so silent that he can assume that you’re deep in slumber. He’s trying his best to keep the wood floor from making too much noise, as if the alarm didn’t already inform you someone was in your home.

He finally makes it around the corner, where he finds you. His heart always increases in speed whenever you grace him with your presence, and right now is no different. Your laptop is secured onto your legs, and he can see just how concentrated you are based off how your eyebrows are making you look like an upset child.

“Hi.”

Immediately your head snaps up, and the smile on your face tells him everything he needs to know. You missed him too. You still loved him even after a couple hours of space. Your hair was still wrapped up in the scarf he gifted your for your birthday. Funny enough, it’s red and yellow undertones were complementing his white walls very nicely. This whole scenery was so beautiful to him.

“Hi baby. You look tired.” You accuse with a raised eyebrow. You hated to see him like this; a weak walk dragging across his floors, and the color tainted from his cheeks. “Have you eaten today?”

“Just had dinner with Yoongi.”

There’s a silence, featuring the two of you making eye contact. You’re looking him up and down, trying to find the lie within his words, but based on the slight swelling in his fingers you know he’s being honest.

“Are you full? I can cook you something.” You offer, standing up promptly, but Jungkook steps towards you, gently setting you back down where you were sitting.

“Have a seat.” He smiles. It’s at this moment where he realizes he hasn’t kissed you since yesterday. He also realizes that you know exactly what he’s thinking, so he seizes his opportunity.

The kiss is loving, but also filled with the kind of lust that only the two of you could have. You both agreed a long time ago that your lips were made for eachother, but even so, you always giggled when your lips pressed together. It was always magic.

He has one knee on the couch as he hovers over you, hands moving up your neck, to the side of your cheeks, and then to your ears as he allows this to calm him down. Even your breathing is in synch as the two of you just enjoy this moment.

Just when Jungkook was starting to feel his heartbeat increase to a deadly pace, and his blood rush to his face, and all the other familiar places, you break the kiss. He can’t help but to follow your plump lips, pressing another peck before resting his forehead on yours.

“What?” He questions, still hovering on top of your body that was now laid on the sofa.

“No can do tonight sir.” You sigh in disappointment, hands finding themselves rubbing circles into his fat cheeks.

“No.” He wines, and not because he needs it so bad. He just hated when you had to be bothered with such a demon. “The red sea?”

“The red sea, baby.” You confirm, and now the two of you are laughing. Once again, the kisses start, except, this time they’re much more sweet and slow. With his lips he’s telling a million stories. He’s telling you that this morning, he was really upset that you weren’t awake as he couldn’t properly embrace you. He’s telling you that while he was singing songs of heartbreak in the studio, he found it hilarious because that would never be the two of you. He’s confessing that he missed you so much, and this taste, and this feeling.

His lips move to your neck, and his hands are rubbing all over your comfort zones such as your legs, and your shoulders, and your back. He then stops his actions, looking right into your eyes. He loves doing this. He can always see how nervous you get. Your pupils start to twitch, as you’re trying your best to be a big girl and handle all the love that rests in his eyes, but at the same time wanting to look away because it’s too much.

“How did I get so lucky?” He questions, kissing you once more. Your scent is so distinct. Castor oil and black girl magic, as you would describe it.

“I think you must have been an important man in your past life.”

“Like Malcolm X?”

And now you’re screeching; that laugh that can make any man fall to his knees in an instant. It’s shaking every part of his body, and he loves you. Your little snorts are the icing on the cake; a recipe for his red cheeks.

“You’re funny.” Is all you can manage as you finally calm down.

“And you’re beautiful.” Jungkook finally stands up, placing his hand infront of you to grab. “You ate, right?”

You grab his hand that was calling out to you, standing up with a slight hiss. “Had a little soup. You know I can’t eat much when I’m bleeding to death.”

“You sure you don’t want anything else? Ice pack?”

“Just you.” Your smile is dazzling, even when your eyes seem a little weary. He doesn’t know if you’re worried about him, your day wasn’t the best, or both, but he knows he can turn it all around.

Setting the alarm, and turning off all the lights to the rooms you walked passed, he leads you to your shared bedroom. As always, the bed is exactly how you two left it in the morning. You both agreed that making a bed was pointless when you were just going to get back in it.

Jungkook pushes you forward, making you fall gently on the mattress. He then begins to remove his clothing one by one, followed by whistles coming from you.

“Oh how I wish I wasn’t about to throw up.” You call, now resting on your elbow in a seductive manner. You’re already in your pajamas, which consisted of nothing but a tank top. You’re comfortable, and he always loves to see you like this.

“You can still enjoy the show.” He winks, before stepping into the bathroom.

“You don’t have to take a shower, you know.” You offer, rubbing his spot in repeated circles. “You didn’t even do anything today.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because your hair isn’t dripping all over your floor from sweat.”

“Our floor.” He corrects.

“Our floor.” You smile. “I just want to Netflix and chill with you, baby.”

“You mean just Netflix?”

“Shut up.” You chuckle.

Of course, he takes your advice. He switches his boxers, and leaves it at that as he jumps on his high set bed. You always have Netflix ready; the horror section waiting to be surfed.

“Your scarf.” He whispers, using his hands to pull it down so your edges would be protected. He presses a light kiss to the cloth, before allowing you to nuzzle into his large arms. Your hand immediately finds the wrist that holds his tatted sleeve, and it’s caressing it ever so gently. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I get really nervous before I come home.” He confesses, not really knowing why. It just comes out.

You mute the tv, looking up at him now. “Why?”

“You just...make me nervous as hell. Never in a million years did I think I’d find you.”

“Am I that great?” You question, tilting your head as best you could. “All I do is eat your food.”

“And you also support me in everything I do. You’re always there and you always know what to say. You always can make my days better. You’re the greatest gift.”

“You’re being really nice to me today.” You’re squinting at him, clearly suspicious. “What did you do?”

“Absolutely nothing.” He assures with a laugh.

“Yeah yeah.” You brush, but he knows you’re enjoying every bit of this. This extra love he’s giving you right now.

His body is always warm, clothed or not, and the feeling of your skin on his is too good. Too pleasant. You had been so excited to watch a good movie and fall asleep, but neither of you had picked up the remote. Your hands were just playing with eachother’s, observing the way you fit together so perfectly.

“How are the boys?”

“They’re good, I hope. It’s kind of funny, but we’ve been spending so much time together getting ready for the comeback, as soon as we’re free we run away from eachother.

“Are you excited?” You ask.

“Yeah...yeah.”

You notice the hesitation in his answer. “Why the pause?”

“I’m always excited to see the fans and stuff, but I’m never going to be happy about having to leave you. It sucks.”

You slide up his body just a tad, kissing him gently before allowing yourself to be the big spoon. Your hands find themselves entangled in his locs, and you can hear the way his breathing is calming down just from the motions.

“I know, baby. I know.” You assure. “But you love it. I promise I’ll be here when you come back. I always am.”

“It’s like—we’ve done this a thousand times. I’m gone, and you’re here. You would think I know how to cope with it, but it gets worse everytime. I’m going to think about you the whole tour.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“How?”

“That means you really do love me more each day.”

That makes him chuckle and smile all at the same time, as he remembers the times when you were heavily insecure about your relationship. You always questioned yourself, but now you were the complete opposite. You were giving him the peptalk.

“I told you I meant it.”

The night continues like this; you massaging his scalp with love and care while you talk about everything and nothing at the same time. The two of you doze off in this position, Netflix still blaring at your eyes.

[ttttaehyungie]

sincerely, but no longer yours | chapter 1

sincerely, but no longer yours | ex!kim namjoon x reader

☘  genre | angst, exes au

☘  summary | It started as a coping mechanism as getting the words out provided a form of catharsis. But now you can’t stop writing these love letters, even with the knowledge that they’ll never get sent. After all, who writes love letters to their ex?

☘  word count | 4k

☘  rating | PG-13

☘  warnings | some fairly heavy angst, breakup

☘  a/n | ok SO I’m finally working on a multi-chap for the first time in forever :o and ofc this is the first series that i’m working on in this blog! alsooo am kinda ashamed to admit that i’ve actually NEVER finished a series ever 🙈🙈 sooo this is a challenge from me @ myself 🤭 so yes come along with me for this ride hahahah and pls kick my butt if i leave this series as another one in the unfinished pile

You can have Manhattan, ‘cause I can’t have you -- Sara Bareilles, Manhattan

Pulling your jacket around you a little tighter to keep the bite of the night air at bay and hitching your duffel bag a little higher up your shoulder, you board the bus. The bus conductor asks for your ticket and you let go of it for the first time since you bought it, giving him the flimsy paper that’s now imprinted with the shape of your thumb under the stress of your tight grip as you held onto it like a lifeline. After a quick inspection, he passes it back to you and you take it from him wordlessly.

“Hey.” You look up at the conductor in surprise, gaze finally torn from where it had remained on the ground all this time. “You alright?”

You don’t allow yourself to consider the question lest the tears come and you cause a bigger scene than you already have. With a tight-lipped smile that probably isn’t fooling anyone, you nod at him, and traipse to the back of the bus before he can probe any further.

The comfort of the back corner of the bus brings you the tiniest smidge of relief, especially after you place your duffel bag on the seat next to you, creating a barrier between you and the rest of the bus. Not that there would be many people, if any at all, at such a late timing. Nonetheless, the little bubble created by your makeshift barricade brings you some security as you settle into your chosen seat gingerly, as if you would shatter to pieces if your movements were too rough. Your emotional state sure feels that way, fragile and on the brink of falling apart any time now.

You’re not sure how much time passes before the bus doors finally shut and it begins pulling out of the bay. It carries a sense of finality. You’re really going home. The cityscape, drenched in the black and orange hues of nightfall, goes past as you watch through the window- slowly at first, then becoming a blur as the vehicle picks up in speed. The plans you had for the weekend are now truncated and left behind with the city.

The emptiness hits you once again when the bus pulls onto the freeway and the city sights are completely gone. Only the inky black of the night sky accompanies you now. You are alone. On this bus, yes, but in more ways than that too. You let that fact sink in.

It’s too dangerous to let your thoughts overtake you right now, so you occupy yourself by playing Sudoku puzzles on your phone, which has strategically been placed on airplane mode. The methodical problem-solving that the puzzle requires of you submerges your mind in a sea of numbers. Which is your intention. And before you know it, the bus is slowing down and you look up from your device to the familiar scenery of your hometown. On any other day, it would fill you with warmth, but right now it doesn’t.

Now having arrived at your destination, you gather your belongings and alight from the bus. It’s just a daypack and your duffel bag which is bursting at the seams with how many items you crammed into it. You would have brought a suitcase if you knew, but how were you to predict the events of tonight? Though, you surmise, you should have seen it coming and could have prepared yourself better.

You’re trudging home and you’re maybe ten minutes away when it begins raining. Great. As if this day could get any worse. It makes your clothes stick to you in that cloying way and the chill from the night has you shivering almost violently now. But you plough on home, only focusing on getting one foot in front of the other and repeat, repeat, repeat.

Finally at your front door, it’s a struggle to get the key in the door with how badly your hand is shaking. Whether it’s from the cold or something else, you’re not sure anymore at this point. After countless tries, you finally manage to jam it in and turn it quickly so you can just get into the safety of your home.

The noise that results from the way you throw your duffel bag and daypack down, your rain-soaked jacket quickly following suit to form a messy, wet heap in the middle of the entryway, announces your arrival. Hoseok pops his head out from the archway that leads to the living room, the sounds probably interrupting his late-night Netflix binge.

“____?” You can hear the concern in his voice, and you refuse to look at him, instead focusing on wrenching your sodden shoes off of your tired feet. “Where’s Joonie?”

The mention of his name causes something like a switch to flip in you. Your brain finally, finally catches up with reality, and the numbness you lulled yourself into for the past few hours dissipates just like the pricking of a balloon. It leaves you gasping in pain, the way the emotions suddenly come flooding through you. The hurt viciously demands to be felt.

With a shaky exhale, you look Hoseok in the eye. The gravity of tonight’s events finally cements itself in your brain and the tears you’d been holding back come spilling out uncontrollably as you mumble your next words out brokenly.

“We broke up.”

It’s been weeks since you and Namjoon broke up. The constant cloud of desolation that plagued your every waking moment in the immediate aftermath of the breakup has finally eased up somewhat.

Being a high school senior turned out to be a lifebuoy in some ways, giving you solid things to cling onto in the midst of your emotions of loss and confusion. It’s not healthy, you know, but the academic content provided a sense of constancy that you sorely needed and the rigor of it all kept your mind from wandering too far into the depths of your sorrow.

Yet you knew this could only go on for so long. At some point, these emotions will eat you up from the inside out if not acknowledged and sorted out. Pain is just like that, it will gnaw at you with subtlety but with certainty. Repressing the feelings is just simply unsustainable.

You’re really lucky to have an older brother like Hoseok. That first night, when you finally broke down and let the tears turn into sobs that wracked through your entire being, he’d quickly gathered you up into his arms and had given you a shoulder to cry on. God knows how long you spent in that state bawling seemingly endlessly, but Hoseok had let you just get it all out without asking any questions, the immensity of his patience and quiet strength of his presence lending you a pillar of support that you desperately needed at the time. Later that night, when you were showered and tucked in warm under the covers, you watched through puffy eyes as he unpacked your belongings from your duffel bag and carefully wiped them dry or chucked them into the laundry basket as was appropriate.

When he reached for your daypack, you stopped him. You were barely able to croak out your opposition, your throat raw and wrecked from the earlier barrage of emotions. Still, Hoseok caught it, and nodded empathetically. He respected your wishes for privacy and only wiped the exterior of your daypack down before leaving it in the corner of your room.

And in the corner it remained. Aside from your absolute necessities, which was really just your keys and your wallet, you’d procrastinated unpacking your daypack. Till now, that is.

Not that there was much to unpack anyway. Most of the possessions you’d retrieved from Namjoon’s dorm room that night had been hastily dumped into your duffel bag in the single-minded mission to get out of there as soon as possible. You know exactly what items remain in the daypack- a bottle of water, a pair of shades, some chapstick, surprise tickets you’d bought online to a movie from that fateful weekend that went unused, and an envelope tucked away safely in the inner pocket of the bag.

The daypack and its contents weighed on your mind the same way it sat in the corner of your room- silent, untouched, yet unbudging. It’s plain silly how afraid you’ve been to confront these items, items that are inanimate and void of meaning apart from what you yourself have ascribed to them. In an attempt to hold off the full brunt of your misery, somehow you’d deluded yourself into thinking that leaving the daypack as it is would preserve things as they once were. You lived in self-denial, as if the breakup had not happened. As if the weekend trip just had not taken place at all, and was waiting to happen instead. The daypack was waiting for you to sling it over your shoulders as you head jovially out the door to the city and to the arms of your boyfriend.

But no. You heave out a sigh. Things have changed. You and Namjoon are no longer together. Holding onto a delusion is ridiculous, and you need to move on. And the first step to doing that is to get rid of this centerpiece that your fantasy revolves around.

The items in the bag get dumped onto the carpeted ground of your room unceremoniously as you unzip the daypack, turn it upside down, and shake out the contents. Whatever mystique you’ve built up around these simple items is now shattered as they lay scattered on the floor. The shades and chapstick return to your dressing table, the bottle of water and expired movie tickets get dumped out. And the envelope… you throw it into your desk drawer and slam it shut before the temptation to tear it open overtakes you.

That was the first of many letters that were written, but never got sent.

You never intended to make it a thing. It just… happened one day. Staying focused on school and college applications could only provide so much distraction from the whirling emotions bottled up inside you. No matter how tightly you attempted to keep a lid on it, wistful nostalgia still crept up uninvited.

And naturally so. This neighborhood, your high school, heck even your own house is filled with the ghost of the memory of him. Namjoon had been a significant presence in your life before he was even really yours. You still remember the day Hoseok brought his newfound friend home, Namjoon’s lips pressed tightly together in his attempts to keep his sniffles and tears in, his knees scraped, bruised, and bleeding from what looked like a pretty hard fall on the playground.

“Mum!” Hoseok had called out. “I need band aids!”

“Hello,” Namjoon mumbled when your mum came hurrying out of the kitchen to see what was wrong. “Sorry to be a bother.”

Namjoon had always been a klutz, but it was his clumsiness that had birthed the close friendship between him and Hoseok. After one too many accidents on the playground, Namjoon had been too scared to go home to face the inevitable reprimanding that would come. Hoseok had offered to patch him up at yours instead, and the camaraderie that arose from that incident had sealed their friendship as an unbreakable one. Unfortunately, as big as Hoseok’s heart was, his little seven-year-old hands were not the gentlest. From your spot at the top of the staircase, peering through the grills, you saw how Namjoon winced at Hoseok dabbing antiseptic on his knees, and you came bounding down the steps to rescue the stranger that sat on your family’s sofa and that had somehow wormed his way into a soft spot in your heart with his teary pout.

“Hoseok,” you demanded, your tiny hand outstretched and waiting, voice tinged with petulance. “Give me.”

Hoseok relinquished the first aid items to you and watched as you cleaned his new friend up, your brow furrowed in careful focus, little hands fumbling but your touch delicate. After you applied the twin band aids on both of Namjoon’s knees with all the meticulousness that a five-year-old could muster up, you patted his thigh and smiled at him.

“All done!” you declared. And you’d never forget the sight of his dimpled smile beaming up at you in response.

If only you could. You shake your head, as if it would shake the memories away. The paper before you on your desk remains as blank as it was twenty minutes ago when you sat down to get started on revision. But having known Namjoon for over a decade made it too easy for you to just get swept away by the deluge of memories of him. You tried to keep it in, but it kept leaking out. And perhaps that’s what you need- to just let it out.

The first touch of the pen to paper has you pausing, wondering how you were even supposed to start. But the moment you begin- Dear Namjoon, - everything comes spilling out in prose. Hardly having to pause what with the way your thoughts just keep flooding out onto the paper, the inked words flowing out in streams, you finally let go of the firm grip you’d kept on your feelings up till now and express your frustration, your loss, your confusion all out in one huge cathartic spew. You write till you feel emotionally dry, but in a satisfying way, chest feeling lighter than it had in weeks. But as your ballpoint pen swirls the complimentary closing- Sincerely Yours- you can’t help but laugh at the sardonic humor embedded in it. The sincerity in your words is irrefutable. But you’re no longer his.

Folding it up and sealing it away in an envelope, you chuck the letter into your desk drawer where it joins its predecessor. Now with a clearer mind, and a renewed focus and vigor, you’re finally able to set to work on the mountain of revision materials that await you.

The first letter was a gushing myriad of feelings. But the subsequent letters solidified into one obviously discernible emotion- anger.

Once you came to terms with the fact that he’s not coming back, and that he basically threw away the relationship, it had you boiling mad. How much had you sacrificed for this relationship?! You’d basically shuttled back and forth between your hometown and the city almost every other weekend to visit him on campus, juggling your family and your grades and your friends back home and college applications just to make your long-distance relationship work. And how did he repay your efforts? By withdrawing from you and refusing to talk things out despite your gentle, persistent probing. You’d heard that he’d been in a slump and confused about the future- Hoseok, while his best friend, was your brother after all- but you’d never imagined he’d be confused about you.

And so you took your rage out on paper once again, your words harsh as you wrote candidly. It’s not like he’d ever get to see it anyway.

But anger is tiring. After penning a few letters full of scathing lines you’d never have the guts to actually spit out in person, your wrath was quelled and soon gave way to grief.

In the same way with your anger, you chose not to deny your sadness, but leaned into it instead. The end of your relationship was something worth mourning, you decided, and you let yourself embrace the sorrow fully and deeply. It was especially difficult knowing that he was still in contact with Hoseok, while you had been completely cut out of his life. But you can’t blame either of them- you can’t demand that they revoke their friendship over what happened between you and Namjoon, nor would you ever desire for that to happen. Hoseok, on his part, managed it to the best he could, taking his phone calls in a room separate from you. But you can’t control the wave of dejection that runs through you whenever you spy Namjoon’s name on his caller ID.

You’re used to the routine by now. Whenever the emotions get too overwhelming, whenever there’s just too much that you want to say to him but that you can’t, you engage in the therapeutic act of writing your letters. Then you seal them up, and chuck them away, out of sight and out of mind. The grief gets easier to deal with too, especially with the excitement of receiving college acceptance letters and your high school graduation date that’s drawing closer and closer.

Of course, that in itself brings its own strand of sadness too, as you imagine having to separate from your friends and family and leave your childhood home behind. But the notion of getting to carve out the path to your future leaves a giddy anticipation that overshadows all other feelings.

And in that strange, paradoxical way that time seems to pass in- every hour ticking by so slowly, but the weeks whizzing by in the blink of an eye- it’s just as your five-year-old self had once proclaimed, “All done!”

Your life now packed into boxes that are piled into the car, one last check of your room to ensure that nothing important is left behind, a final look at the place you called home for all your life up to now, and you’re off to college. As you watch the sight of your neighborhood through the rearview mirror pull further and further away till it disappears entirely, you know you’re leaving tons of memories behind. Memories of Namjoon, yes, but also memories of your growing up years with your family and friends who have made you into who you are today, able to venture out and face the world with courage and confidence.

Maybe it’s that experience of individuation that has you finally accepting it. No more whirlpool of emotions, no more anger, no more grief, no more emptiness. Just peace. You’re single, separated from Namjoon. And you’re ready to take on the world and live your life like the boss woman you are.

“____,” Hoseok wails, pouting as he approaches you with outstretched arms. You barrel into him, relishing the warmth of his embrace and stowing it away for the days ahead. His eyes rove over you as he holds you at arms length so he can take you in for the last time in a while. He sighs. “My baby sister is all grown up and going to college and away from me.”

You laugh. “I’m still in the country, Hoseokie, it’s not like I’m halfway across the world. You can come and visit anytime.”

“But you’ve never lived further than a minute’s walk from my room. How am I supposed to deal with you being hours away from me now?”

“You’ll get over it soon, you big baby.” You duck out under his arms and slap his butt with the playful affection that’s always characterized your sibling relationship. Your parents are waiting by the door of your dorm room and you go over to give them their share of goodbye hugs.

“Thank you for all the help with moving and unpacking today,” you say, voice muffled as you speak into your dad’s chest. He strokes your head and you lean into his touch and savor it.

“You’ve got one more box there, you sure you don’t want our help with that?”

“No, it’s fine, I can handle it.”

It gets increasingly hard to hold the tears back and the difficulty only spikes tenfold when you turn to see your mum holding back tears of her own. Her perfume and her own natural scent that lies underneath that that you inhale as you hide your face in her neck while the two of you hug very nearly pushes you over the brink. But you manage. Knowing your family, it’s a given that someone will shed tears at some point, and you’re all (barely) holding it together for each other.

Hoseok comes up to hug you from behind so that you’re now sandwiched between him and your mum, which only prompts your dad to envelop all of you in his arms too.

“If it ever doesn’t work out- not saying that it won’t, because you’re super smart and the most driven kid I’ve ever known- but just, IF ever,” Hoseok rambles into your hair, “you can always come home and teach at the dance studio with me, ok?”

“Thanks Hoseokie. But you know I have two left feet, so I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

“They’ll make an exception for you. I’ll make them make an exception for you.”

You laugh and extricate yourself from the group hug through a series of wiggles that only provides further proof of why you’ll never make it as a dance instructor the way your brother has.

“Ok, it’s getting late and you guys still have a long drive ahead of you.” You shoo them out of your room. After your final goodbyes, you return to your room quickly, knowing that the sight of their figures leaving would be unbearable.

Needing a distraction, you busy yourself with unpacking your last box of belongings. It’s nothing too difficult- your family had spent the afternoon helping you with the major to-dos like wiping things down and setting up your larger decor and lighting fixtures (read: copious amounts of fairy lights strung everywhere) just the way you liked it. All that remains now are some photos with friends, the few pieces of jewelry you owned, your humble make-up collection... and a shoe box stuffed full of letters that you didn’t dare to leave back at home where it would be at risk of being discovered by prying eyes in your absence.

Finding a place for your various items was a simple task to complete. Within ten minutes you were done unpacking, washed up, and tucked into bed for your first night ever living apart from your family. You roll over onto your side- your sleeping environment may be different, but your side-sleeper habits will never change.

As you peer out the window and take in the campus sights that seem foreign now but that you know will become familiar in time, you’re struck with a funny thought. What a turn of events your life has taken.

This is not the dorm room nor the campus you thought you’d be attending all those months ago when you were making your way down to the city. You’d embarked on that trip in gleeful anticipation at being able to deliver the good news to Namjoon, only to have that trip abruptly cut short, and the news remained in an envelope that never got to its intended recipient.

That weekend triggered a rerouting of your life, setting you on a new path that had brought you here to this campus instead. Not that you regret it, or feel like you settled for something less, not at all. You’re at peace with your decisions. It’s just an intriguing thought that things could have turned out so differently if that one weekend hadn’t happened, is all.

On impulse, you clamber out of bed to retrieve the shoe box that you’d shoved into the corner of your closet. Rifling through the stack- wait, did you really write this many letters?- you finally find the envelope you’re looking for.

Tearing it open gingerly, you pull out the sheets of paper contained within. It’s a rueful kind of feeling that washes over you as you skim over the words that you’d written back in what feels like an entire lifetime ago. The excitement you had felt at the prospect of the long-distance aspect of your relationship finally coming to an end after two long years was blatant in your letter.

But when it became obvious that Namjoon had gotten tired of trying to make things work, what you’d initially thought of as the golden ticket to saving your relationship turned out to be fool’s gold instead. You pull up the second sheet of paper- a photocopy of your acceptance letter to the same college your then boyfriend was attending- and you can’t help the ‘what if’s that fill your mind as you run your thumb over the college emblem.

Guess your dreams of a future where you lived in the city and where Namjoon was still in your life would remain just that- a dream.

Or so your naive college self believed.

[joshslater]

Pink Drink Twink

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

“Compliments from the gentleman in the corner” said the bartender as he placed the girliest of cocktails in front of me. A martini glass with a pinkish liquid, and a bright neon pink cherry on a stem in the middle. I looked up at Matt, who faced the right direction and saw his quizzical look turn into disgust. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. It’s that fucking leather fag again. He’s still trying to score, even after what you told him” To say I rejected him was an understatement. Luckily freedom of speech trumps hate crime laws. Matt was just about to pour out the drink on the floor, when I stopped him.

“Hey, he’s not the one who has to clean it up.” Matt held the glass still for a few moments before setting it down next to our beers. “It’s harassment, that’s what it fucking is.” “Good luck convincing someone that handing out cocktails is harassing someone. In fact...” I said, picking out the cherry, dumping it in one empty beer glass, then pouring the liquid into another “...it is now acceptable free booze.” “Well, I’m not touching it.” “You are not pretty enough to have burly men buying you drinks.” “Thank fuck for that.”

It didn’t taste that special. Sweet raspberry with too low ABV to be interesting. But easily flushed down with another beer before we split. Matt had work in the morning, the plight of manual labor, but I had all weekend off. Despite our different trajectories after we graduated, we still enjoyed each other’s company. He was a dumbass, but made friends instantly with everyone, and I made heavy use of his truck.

It was such a surprise to wake up early Saturday morning. Sure, we didn’t drink heavily, but I was normally tapping my way through snoozes in my phone’s alarm. Now I woke up earlier than that, without even setting one. I could only pretend to be annoyed though, because I felt better than in weeks. Fully rested and full of energy. I knew I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, so I got up and got dressed. I made a mental note to be more consistent with my gym times. I looked much leaner than I recalled, but then those things hava a tendency to sneak up on you until you realize something needs to be done. Then I went to the mirror.

The pink hair is the most striking, of course, but to me the eyes are what makes the most impact. I have trouble comprehending what I see. Reflected back I see a version of myself that has been altered in far too many ways to count. It isn’t the brown-eyed, black-haired, chiseled ex-lacrosse player I was used to see, but someone with much more boyish features. My jawline is still pretty much there, but my nose is very different from what it used to be, and my eyes are greyish-blue with a sort of surprised or naive expression. What the fuck happened?

I let my fingers run through my pink tinged hair. It felt silky smooth, like I was an obsessive user of conditioner. It must be the pink cocktail. That’s the only thing out of the ordinary I could think of. What about Matt? I rushed to the phone and picked him from the phone history. It felt like an eternity as signal after signal went by.

“It’s Matt” “Thank fuck Matt, have you...” I stopped myself. I didn’t sound anything like I would usually sound like. I sounded like a teenager again. “Jeremy, is that you?” “Yeah. Is everything... normal?” “I would say so, yes. You sound really weird.” “I think I got something. Talk to you later.”

So some disgusting leather homo tries to pick me up at a bar. I turn him down. He hands me a potion or something that turns me into what exactly? What is his end game? It’s not like I would have sex with him, or any guy, just because I look like I’m in a boy band.

I’m confident I’m not just suddenly realizing I’m slimmer, but that too is due to the potion. I decide to not just chill all day as planned, but to go to the gym and see what the damage is. I figure I can wear a beanie to avoid looking like a weirdo.

Cardio is going great. I feel the positive energy from waking up pulsing through the body, and I’m going faster and for longer than I normally do on the treadmill. It’s like I woke up fully charged for the first time in months. As I move over to weights it turns sour quickly. I’m so much lower in weight than I normally do that it isn’t funny. I can barely do a few reps on what I would typically do 10-15 reps on. I drop to a lower weight, but now I’m tired instead and can barely do a few on the lower weight. I move between exercises, and it’s the same again and again. What’s worse is I’m getting an erection, perhaps from all the straining. It has never happened before. I give up on the set and head towards the locker room. I decided against taking a shower, not only because of my boner, but I realize I would have to take off my beanie. Instead I jog back home, which is feeling surprisingly good, all things considered.

Once back home go straight to the shower, rip off my gym clothes and throw them in a heap. I step into the shower and almost turn on the water before remembering to take off the beanie. I throw it on top of the pile, and let the water start running on my damp skin. Damn it feels good. It’s like everything is more sensitive today. My hard-on, that never really went away during the jog, perks up. I take plenty of soap and spend a good thirty minutes having the best wank in weeks, and end up pumping out liquid as if I was a soap dispenser myself. I’m so deep in trouble.

I’m struck by post wank clarity. All of this, even though parts of it is really fucking good, is because of that frilly drink. I must find that creep and confront him as soon as possible. Unfortunately it’s not even lunch yet, and there isn’t even a guarantee he would be at the bar tonight, or ever again. My plan of chilling and doing nothing for the day turns into anxiously doing nothing. I waste some time on unfocused gaming with terrible results. I’m not hungry, but eat a bowl of yogurt while browsing stuff I can’t remember 30 seconds later. Everything is just unbearable, so I put on my damp gym clothes again and leave for a run.

I’ve never been a big fan of running before. If this is another change forced upon me I’m actually kind of OK with it. It feels amazing to just ignore everything that is happening and just run at random. I don’t know for how long, but as I’m getting close to home again I start to sprint. I run as hard as I can, really giving it my all. It’s amazing. I’m soaked in sweat, panting deeply, and again have a throbbing erection. I don’t bother to reflect on any of it. I just pretend that everything is amazing, have an amazing shower with amazing soap and an amazing wank.

As I dry off myself my phone begins to ring. I know right away from the bathroom that it is Matt calling. Long ago I gave him the Nokia ringtone on my iPhone, which at some point was hilarious.

“Hi Matt” I shock myself with my voice. It has shifted even more since this morning, and now sounds like an obnoxious brat. “Hey, I just came off. Are you OK? You still sound different.” “I’m not really feeling like myself. It’s probably best if I stay in tonight.” “OK. I have some Netflix to catch up on. Get well. Target at ten tomorrow?” “Yeah, sure. Bye.”

I walk over to a mirror. I don’t look that different from this morning, do I? What if this wasn’t a change, but a process that has just begun? That I am slowly turning into someone else. Or something else. I look at the time on the phone. Still hours until the bar opened, so plenty of time to go crazy while thinking of this.

We had been at the bar much later yesterday, but I can’t risk missing him if he is early today, and I can’t stand sitting at home anyways. I dress simply, a white T-shirt and skinny jeans, and head over to the bar only half an hour after they opened. The bouncer takes forever to check my ID before letting me in. He is not here, but then so is no one else. Besides me and the staff there are only a handful of people. I tell the bartender that I’m looking for someone and might be here a while, order a diet coke, and grab a table by the wall from which I can see the entrance.

Three hours, two daiquiris and three diet cokes later I’m utterly bored. It’s only a quarter past eight, and so much more evening left, but I feel restless and tired at the same time. We didn’t arrive until well past nine, and the place doesn’t close until two. At what point do I give up?

Just as I’m thinking that I see him. The balding man in his forties, in black leather boots, black jeans and black leather jacket. I don’t like him. It looks so fake, the leather outfit he wears. Like he is pretending to be a gay tough guy from 1980. I quickly empty the last of my drink and start approaching him before he orders anything or grabs a seat. When his gaze catches me moving his way, his face turns smug and confident.

“Hi there, puppy. Looking for daddy” “Make it go back!” “Make what now?” “You did this to me, now undo it.” “I have no idea what you are talking about, puppy, or who you are” “You were hitting on me yesterday” “I hit on a lot of puppies, but I sure would have remembered you.” “You bought me a pink drink.” “You? YOU?! Well, I knew there was something to you. Have you changed your mind?” “What did you put in the drink?” His expression change completely. “I don’t know what you’re raving about. I never touched it. Is this a date rape accusation, because if it is you’ll have to talk to my lawyer. There is video recording in here after all.” “It’s... No, it’s not.” “If you excuse me, I think I’ve had enough of you.”

What did I expect? That he kicked his boot heels together and transformed me back? Did I really not have a better plan? If this really was his doing, he probably would have been prepared for this confrontation. Ready to take advantage of me. But he looked as surprised with my transformation as I was.

I walk back home, feeling dejected, disappointed and lost. What would I do next? Is there anything I can do? Another wank for sure, because I start to get that feeling and my skinny jeans aren’t doing me any favors. With some difficulty I do my best to get out of them as quickly as possible once inside the door. I go straight to my bed, lie down and start jacking off. I’m not even thinking about something in particular. Despite only having had two drinks I’m feeling a bit tipsy, in a good way. Like my body is glowing, and lying on my bed, wearing only a T-shirt and socks, jacking off, is the most amazing thing I could do with my life. It takes like forever until I shoot my load all over the front of my T-shirt, and once I’ve done that I continue to stroke myself until I drift off into sleep.

The Nokia ring tone coming from my front door wakes me up. I’m not tired, but somewhat confused as you are when woken in the wrong part of the sleep cycle, so I’m jumping out of bed almost involuntary. There is an uncomfortable tug as my body shifts and pulls the T-shirt glued by dried cum away from my torso. In the hallway lies a pair of skinny jeans playing the Nokia ringtone. In a pocket somewhere Matt is calling. I feel my way to the phone and answer.

“Hi Matt” My voice hasn’t changed much. I still sound like an arrogant teenager on an online game voice chat. “Hey dude. I’ll be perhaps ten minutes late. See you in half an hour.” “Yeah. No, wait!”

He has already hanged up. As I turn and look into the hallway mirror I’m stunned. The change from yesterday is even greater than from the day before. My hair has turned cotton candy pink and all my facial features have softened even more. I look at least five years younger, and my eyes have turned into proper blue. No one who knew me would recognize me anymore. I wouldn’t. My ID is worthless, and no fake ID would ever get me into a bar. What the fuck is going on. Am I shorter? I think I might actually be shorter than yesterday.

Normally on Sundays Matt and I go grocery shopping at Target in his pickup. I don’t want him to see me like this, but I need someone to help me figure out what is going on. I look at the phone again. I’ve already wasted four minutes. I need to shower and get dressed before he arrives. I rush into the bathroom, undress and get into the shower.

It’s like time stops when I turn on the water. The warm water makes my entire body tingle. My skin looks perfect and glistens wet in the bathroom light. I can’t see a single spot or blemish, though I know I had plenty. Not a single hair, though I most definitely had that before, except for the small, tight bush of cotton candy pink pubes. The sensation is so fucking incredibly amazingly sensual I start rubbing my dick. Not a proper jerk off, just small circles of my palm against my dick. I know I’ve lost even more mass since yesterday, but it looks like I’ve lost body fat too, because you can see a faint washboard. At least there is still some muscle left. As amazing as this feels, I can’t really be upset about any of the changes. Not here and now. I’m aware I’m moaning. I sound like Cindy in pol.sci. first time I fucked her.

The doorbell brings clarity. Matt is here already? I turn off the water and jump out of the shower. While I’m frantically drying myself I look for something to wear. Strewn on the floor are funky gym clothes and a cum-stiff T-shirt. I grab the beach bag from under the sink and put on my swim trunks. The bell again. I rush over to the door and open it.

At the moment I see Matt on the other side I realize it could have been someone else. What a shock that would have been for of us. Now it was just a shock for Matt.

“Holy Shit!” “Yeah. I know...”

The contrast is extra painful seeing Matt in his chill Sunday outfit. Relaxed jeans, navy sweatshirt on his wide upper body, hiding his muscles, but at the same time signaling that they are definitely there. He’s a head taller than me. We used to be the same height, the same build, the same outfit. Holy shit indeed. I stand there with ruffled pink hair, naked except for swim trunks that barely hides a raging hard-on. He looks bewildered.

“Matt, you must help me.”

He doesn’t answer, but I can see his bulge grow in his jeans. For the first time since I can’t remember how long I feel vulnerable. I’m literally exposed, one piece of clothing away from naked. He is standing in front of the closed door, the only way out. If he chooses to do something, there is nothing I can do to stop him. He is so much taller than me now, stronger, wider. I know the muscles below that sweatshirt of his. We’ve worked out together, so I’ve seen his chest both doing exercises and later naked in the shower. My arm is moving up his abs to his pecs, under the T-shirt, below his sweatshirt. He is frozen in place as I rub myself against his groin.

“Dude, are you alright?” Matt asks me, and I realize what I’m doing. I take a step back. “I can’t help it. Ever since that fucking pink cocktail I’ve been...” I don’t know what to say. What isn’t obvious about my situation is unexplainable. I see Matt struggle with something, before blurting out. “Would you mind continue what you were doing?”

Tentatively I stick my hand under his shirt again and rub against his body. “But... Do you mind doing it?” he asks. I don’t, I realize. But do I mind that I don’t mind? This must be part of the transformation that is happening. But Matt isn’t any random person. “Not with you, I don’t.” “Thank fuck for that.” He says and looks relieved. “Why?” “I... Sooo last Friday I might have put something in your beer that might have something to do with this...” “YOU FUCKING WHAT?” I don’t know what shocks me most, Matt’s betrayal or that he was able to pull off something like this at all. “It sounded like a good prank. A few drops and you would act all... different.” “Why the fuck would you want that?” His eyes starts tearing up and his voice is almost a whisper. “Because I like you. A lot.”

I’m still standing with my hand against his chest and have no clue what to do next. Fucking dumbass Matt admitted to ruin my life, outed himself as gay and professed his love for me in like 5 seconds. At least I think that’s what just happened. I slowly shift into a hug, and he hugs me back. I’m angry, I feel pity, but most of all I’m still horny. Damn all this.

Suddenly Matt breaks free. “I’ll drink it too!” “What? No! Look at me.” “It’s only fair.”

I’m quickly weighing my options, and come to a decision.

“No. You did this, so I decide what is fair. You do whatever I tell you to do. You show up when I tell you to. And we’ll have sex in whatever way I tell you to.” “Wah... We’ll...” “You heard me. I’ve been so fucking horny all weekend from those ‘few drops’ I don’t care what I fuck anymore. I want you naked in my bed within 30 seconds” “It was more of a dash than drops.” “25 seconds”

[beca-mitchell]

nothing has changed me quite like you (1/1)

Summary: Chloe Beale and her shetland sheepdog, Juniper, make quite the pair. Set after PP3. Written for @bechloe-week day 2 - he bit me!

Notes: Fic title from "Nothing Is U" by Bleachers. Written for Bechloe Week Day 2 - He bit me! Wrote this after a burst of inspiration tonight. Unbeta'd, sorry.

Read on AO3 or read below.

* * * * *

Chloe adopts Juniper from her uncle when she moves up to Ithaca to begin her veterinary school education. Juniper is a happy dog, incredibly enthusiastic about walks, and happy to lie on top of Chloe’s chest to wake her up in the morning.

Chloe had always wanted a dog again since her childhood dog had long passed away. However, living at Barden hadn’t really allowed for it in her first year there. Then living in a house constantly filled with loud, singing women...that hadn’t been the time either.

She had thought maybe—maybe when she moved into an apartment with Beca, her longtime crush and (even more) longtime friend, would have been the time. But no. Amy happened. And their tiny apartment happened. Their tiny apartment which meant that Chloe spent cold, sleepless nights trying not to cuddle too close to Beca, lest she startle her and send her running away for good. Those cold, lonely, sleepless nights spent wondering if Beca would ever reciprocate her feelings.

The nights spent after Beca and Jesse’s Breakup™. The nights spent falling asleep together after another bad Netflix movie.

The nights spent together after nights out. Sleeping only, of course.

All the nights.

It almost made Chloe forget about wanting a dog—about wanting a companion. Almost. It would have just been difficult to have a dog in such a small face while nobody was really home to take care of a dog.

(But it had made Chloe smile—widely too—when she had mentioned it offhandedly to Beca. The whole ‘having a dog’ thing. A rather domestic suggestion, if Chloe thought about it for too long. She had almost been afraid about bringing it up even hypothetically to Beca. It felt like a step she hadn’t been sure about taking even though they weren’t even anything. But still. Beca liked dogs and would have liked a dog of her own—their own?—if it weren’t for their roommate and their living conditions.

That was a win to Chloe.

Beca liked dogs. Nobody was taking that away from her.)

Finally, Chloe moved upstate. Upstate where it was easier to get a spacier apartment; where there was that much more greenery. Many more accessible parks to run.

It was finally time to get a dog.

Finally, then came Juniper—a force of energy rolled into one fluffy Shetland Sheepdog.

 * * * * *

 Juniper is a happy dog.

So happy to the extent that Chloe is surprised the first time she attempts to bring somebody back to her apartment. She brings back a nice woman from the Pharmacy School after a surprisingly refreshing date. They barely make it into the apartment when Juniper immediately begins leaping at their legs, surprisingly excited and over-eager for the rather late hour.

“Shh,” Chloe hushes, smiling apologetically at her date. “Sorry, she’s not usually like this. Um...here, let me grab your jacket. I can make us some tea or something.” She tries not to sound too desperate. “If you want to stay for a little.”

Valerie smiles—a pretty smile entirely too reminiscent of another brunette with blue eyes—and nods. “I’d love to.”

“Great!” Chloe exclaims, a bit too high-pitched for her liking. She turns so Valerie can’t see her wince. Valerie doesn’t necessarily need to know exactly how long it’s been since she was...super intimate in any sense of the word. Herself not included. “I’ll be back,” she calls over her shoulder, clutching her date’s jacket in her hand.

Juniper obediently follows her to the kitchen, little nails tapping against the hardwood. “You can do this,” Chloe murmurs to herself, opening cabinets as she searches for a good mug to use. “You can do this, right Junie?” she asks, bending down to coo at her dog. Juniper yelps, tail wagging happily as she flits around Chloe’s leg, clear herding instincts coming out. “She’s not Beca. I mean. Who is. But she’s pretty. And nice.” She glances at Juniper as if her dog is listening to her attentively. “She’s pretty nice,” she chirps, smiling at Juniper.

Juniper offers no feedback, other than a brush of her nose against Chloe’s leg.

Chloe sighs, bringing the mugs back out to her living room.

 * * * * *

 “Ow!”

Chloe draws back quickly, immediately pushing herself up on the couch and peering down at her date nervously. A small yelp of pain isn’t necessarily the reaction she’s used to unless discussed beforehand with her bedmates.

“Sorry,” Chloe whispers, hushed. “Did I bite you?”

Valerie sits up at well, cheeks still flushed attractively, lips still swollen from their make-out session. Chloe’s eyes don’t even wander to her half-unbuttoned shirt. “No, I think—your dog did?”

“My wha—” Chloe twists on the couch, peering around in the low light. She sees Juniper sitting up, alert yet somehow still innocent, in her dog bed in the corner of the living space. “She’s…”

“I didn’t imagine it. She definitely bit me.”

“No, I believe you, she’s just not normally—she likes other people.”

Valerie laughs, sitting up all the way and beginning to button up her shirt. Juniper perks up at that and scurries over, as if she is excited to watch Chloe very much not have sex.

“You don’t have to go,” Chloe urges, though she isn’t sure why she even wants to protest. “I’m—I mean we can—”

“Look, you’re very nice, but I guess...I just want to be friends.”

“Oh. I’m...that’s okay. I don’t…” Chloe finds she isn’t extremely disappointed, just a little stunned that her evening is ending so quickly. Though she has no extreme connection to Valerie—no lingering passion—she is still relatively disappointed by the lack of sex in her life. She sighs, deflating. “I’ll get your jacket.”

* * * * *

Chloe doesn’t think much of it. It’s just a pattern of behaviour that she assumes Juniper has developed. She doesn’t really bite people—she just nips. Regardless, Chloe knows it isn’t behaviour that she should encourage by any means. She just assumes Juniper is a little protective of her. A little territorial.

It isn’t until weeks later that another major incident occurs. Chloe has since learned not to really go back to her own apartment with dates, with this one being an exception.

Mark is a PhD student at the engineering school. She meets him through a veterinary school friend and they had agreed to go on a date together. One thing had led to another and they had ended up tucked away in Chloe’s room after their date (Juniper had been locked out of her room on purpose) and well—

It’s fun. That much Chloe can say. It isn’t until later, with Mark’s heavy snoring next to her that she realizes that she hadn’t felt any real connection to him. But maybe, she muses, it’s too early to tell. It had been one date. And she had felt enough of a connection to sleep with him, even though it isn’t something she does regularly. Putting out on the first date at least.

It is the next morning that everything becomes apparent.

Chloe wakes up alone, eyes blinking against the harsh sunlight of her room. She hears a strange sound, something that sounds like muffled yelling. Or whisper-yelling. She senses the distinct emptiness next to her and sighs, wondering if she even has time to be disappointed. Or if she had prepared herself adequately for this inadvertently.

She hears a bark. Followed by a hushing sound.

Chloe rolls her eyes. Sneaking past her dog. Typical.

Without more thought, Chloe pulls a robe around her and yanks open her bedroom door, wondering what she’ll see. She blinks at the scene in front of her and takes in the way Mark appears to be in a stand-off with Juniper.

She sighs, realizing he has probably encountered one of her behavioural issues. Her earlier annoyance aside, she tries to offer sympathy and clears her voice, making her presence known. “Oh, I’m so sorry, she’s—”

“Aren’t you a vet or something?” he asks, holding up one of his ruined shoes. The other, Juniper still holds in her mouth, her tail wagging enthusiastically. Like this is some game. “Can’t you train your dog better?”

“She’s not usually like this!” Chloe exclaims. “Junie, come here, baby. Stop that.”

“Do you know how expensive these shoes are?”

Chloe almost laughs at the expression on his face, but she remembers, fleetingly, how much Beca had valued her precious headphones. She supposes everybody has their hobbies.

“Give that back, you little—”

“Don’t be mean to her!” Chloe cries, attempting to intervene. “She’s just playing. Junie, come here,” she demands.

Mark scowls, continuing to tug at his remaining shoe. The one that isn’t covered in dog pee. Juniper refuses to let up, even growling a little as he tugs harder. She stands her ground with surprising force. Chloe wonders if she had imagined Mark’s arm muscles. Clearly nothing compared to a shetland sheepdog with something to prove.

She sighs, choosing instead to lean back against the wall. She pulls her robe tighter around herself, tucking the fabric to protect herself against the chill. At least she gets morning entertainment in the place of a one-night stand trying to run out on her.

“Hey—Hey!” Mark cries out, pulling his hand away, both shoes dropping to the ground. “She bit me!”

Chloe pushes off the wall, concerned.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m f—”

“I was talking to Juniper,” Chloe says shortly. “You were antagonizing her on purpose. Rule one of interacting with dogs.”

He has enough sense to look appropriately chastised, but still displeased with the entire situation.

She rises, holding out her hand to inspect his hand. “Let me see,” she murmurs.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just go.”

Chloe watches the door slam behind him, Juniper by her side.

“Another one, huh, Junie.”

 * * * * *

 The next semester comes quickly enough, January creeping into February, then the early stages of March.

“Beca?” Chloe blinks, stunned. “What are you doing here? In the—in—?” Chloe peers out the door as if expecting a camera crew to surprise them in the middle of the hallway. This is some Punk’d energy Chloe feels. She hadn’t expected to see Beca for at least another few months, even if she has spent the last few months alone missing Beca terribly. “This isn’t L.A.,” she says slowly, wonder creeping into her voice. “You’re not in L.A.”

“I—surprise!” Beca spreads her arms, hesitant smile on her lips. Chloe gapes at her, noting how different Beca looks...yet completely the same. Maybe a little more...expensive, if Chloe had a word for it. Her jacket is sleek-looking, her hair is slightly curled and—

“Did you dye your hair?” Chloe asks, reaching out to touch the ends of Beca’s hair. “It’s so pretty…”

“Thank you,” Beca says, blushing. “You look...wow.”

Chloe touches her hair self-consciously. It’s tied up in a messy ponytail to match her oversized sweater and leggings. She hadn’t planned on seeing anybody today, intent on having a quiet study day. “Really?” she asks softly before she can help herself.

“Yeah, I—oh.” Beca pauses, looking down at Juniper who creeps between Chloe’s legs to peer up at Beca with interest. Chloe feels Juniper’s tail wagging against her legs. “Who’s this! Is this the cutie you always post about on Instagram?”

Hearing the high-pitched tone of Beca’s voice as she continues to talk to and about Juniper makes all kinds of affection shoot through Chloe’s body. That and something else. She smiles at Beca, realizing just how much she had missed the other woman over this time. While Beca had been off in L.A. making a name for herself, Chloe had missed her all the while, attempting to fill the voids that Beca had left behind.

“Yeah,” Chloe murmurs, watching as Beca holds out her hand for Juniper to sniff. “She’s just a little...temperamental with new people, I—” Chloe freezes, stunned when Juniper licks Beca’s hand and immediately pushes her body into Beca’s knees, clearly intent on receiving more cuddles.

“She’s adorable, Chlo.”

Chloe thinks she might cry. “She really is.” She clears her throat, battling the emotion away. “Do you want to...come in, or—?”

“I...okay. Yeah. I mean. I did come to visit you, but I’m telling you, she might take some attention away from you.”

Chloe scoffs. “As if that would ever happen,” she teases.

Beca hums, something non-committal, but not quite the immediate disagreement Chloe expects from her.

“Chloe?” Beca asks quietly as the front door shuts behind her. “Can I do something?”

Chloe turns, confused. She takes in the sight of Beca standing there in front of her with her expensive jacket and her expensive duffel bag (she hadn’t seen that before—did Beca intend on staying with her? In her one-bedroom, one-bed apartment?), with Juniper sitting obediently right next to her.

It is very much a picture of a girl with a mission, too weighed down by all her insecurities.

Chloe’s heart races. “Sure,” she whispers.

“I...wanted to do it the moment you opened the door. But I guess…” Beca smiles down at Juniper. “Needed the seal of approval first, huh.” She takes a step closer, dropping her bag gently at her feet. “I’m...Can I kiss you?”

That simple statement, said with such clarity and sincerity, snatches all the air from Chloe’s chest. She stumbles, eyes widening as she notes that Beca is standing right in front of her with nowhere else to go. Her favourite blue eyes, taking up her entire field of view.

“Chloe.”

“I—um. Yes. God, yes, please kiss me,” Chloe replies, wondering very much if this is still a dream.

"I just. Wasn't sure after Europe," Beca says stiltedly. Breathless, almost. She reaches up with shaking hands to put her hands around the back of Chloe's neck.

"Kiss me," Chloe whimpers.

So Beca does.

 * * * * *

 When Chloe wakes the next morning, she wakes up alone. Her heart pounds, wondering if Beca had left in the middle of the night. She lies, somewhere between dream and nightmare, too afraid to wake up and face the Pandora’s Box of her reality.

The previous night had been nothing short of amazing. Chloe struggles to find words to encapsulate the spectrum of emotions that had crashed through her the moment she and Beca finally got to know each other intimately. Wandering hands, heavy kisses, breathless pants, and the annoyingly rhythmic sound of Chloe’s bed creaking under the weight of two bodies finding their perfect match in each other.

It had been perfect.

Chloe wonders if anything will ever top their first time, now that she knows what it feels like to be wanted by Beca Mitchell. Beca, who flew across the country to pull Chloe into her arms and kiss her. Not quite an “I love you” but also not quite a “Let’s be friends” either.

Chloe sighs, sitting up and letting the sheets fall around her. She is too afraid to check, but she has more faith in Beca than that. Her longtime friend. Her longtime crush. Her maybe-not-one-time lover.

“Hey,” Beca calls quietly as she pushes open the door. She is wearing one of Chloe’s old oversized shirts and a shy smile on her face. Her hair is delightfully rumpled, catching all the rays of sun that sneak into Chloe’s bedroom. In her arms, she holds a squirming Juniper who looks like she is very much attempting to lick Beca’s face or jump onto the bed. Or both.

Chloe almost gasps, but she only manages a shy smile of her own, stunned into silence for once.

“You’re here,” Chloe murmurs when she finds her voice.

Beca sits on the bed, gently letting Juniper squirm free from her arms. Juniper curls up at the foot of her bed, ears twitching excitedly. “I hope you don’t mind, I just gave her some food. She was waiting for us when I woke up.”

Us, Chloe thinks happily. She smiles, reaching out to grab the front of Beca’s shirt to draw her in for a kiss. Beca responds immediately, hands coming up to frame Chloe’s cheeks gently, tilting her head, like she is responding to Chloe’s unspoken word. Us, she seems to echo in her kiss. Look at us.

Scratch perfection, Chloe thinks. This is all she needs.

fin.

[obxhoe]

Leather and Lace || Rudy Pankow {1}

Lovers forever face to face My city your mountains Stay with me stay I need you to love me I need you today Give to me your leather Take from me my lace

(eek i’m nervous about this. hope y’all enjoy. message me if you wanna be on my taglist!)

CHAPTER ONE

ZOE’S POV:

Sophie’s alarm clock is blaring yet again after the third time she had snoozed it this morning. I can hear it in my bedroom… across the freaking hallway. I pad into her room,

“Soph.” No response. “Soph!” I whisper-yell. “Sophie!!!” She jolts up, ripping her eye mask off.

“I’m up. I’m up.” 

“I’m leaving in 20 minutes for class, I won’t be home until at least 11 tonight, I told Liv I would have dinner and a wine night at her place.”

“I’m probably sleeping at Aaron’s tonight so…” I raise an eyebrow at her. Aaron is this new guy she met over Bumble and the two of them have been seeing each other every day since their first date 3 weeks ago.

“Alright well have fun and try not to do anything dumb”

“You know I always do” I laugh and shut her door, walking to my vanity to quickly put on some makeup and grab my stuff. 

I’m about a quarter way through my senior year at NYU, and about a quarter away from an existential crisis. I’m not sure what I want to do with my life yet. Basically every single one of my friends have boyfriends and they talk about marriage and babies and all that shit. And it’s cute. But I’m fine on my own. My last boyfriend Peter always had me feeling suffocated. The constant “Babe” and “Baby”. The obligation of having to FaceTime someone all the time. Having to be around someone every minute of every day. I was exhausted all the time. Currently, I’m an international business major with a minor in accounting. Taking a full course load, and working a part time job in an accounting firm on top of that. I don’t exactly have time for anything else. 

I check the time and see that I’m running 5 minutes late. I slip on mom jeans, a giant t-shirt I stole from my dad years ago and run out the door. The walk to school is always my favorite part of the day. The West Village was my dream neighborhood to live in and once I saved up enough money from working throughout school, I finally was able to rent a tiny two bedroom apartment. I mindlessly scroll through social media as I speed walk to “campus”, it’s really just a few buildings in the city, there’s no open space or anything. Unless you count Washington Square Park. I pass the West 4th street subway station and my phone fumbles out of my hand as a result of someone walking straight into me.

“Fuck. fuck fuck fuck.” I say grabbing my phone and seeing the screen cracked. This is not exactly what I need at this moment.

“I am so sorry” I hear a voice above me, “I’m not from here, which I guess you can tell. Uh, I’m a little lost. I think? I’m not sure where I’m going or what uptown and downtown mean on the subways. Sorry, I’m rambling. Oh my god!” He sees my phone. “I’m so sorry. Shit. I can get you a new one.”

“Ok chill for a sec dude” I stand up brushing my hair out of my eyes. “At least buy a girl coffee before you offer up a phone.”

“Oh you’re not mad. I thought most people who live here have a stick up their ass all the time” He says, and I finally look up at his face. Those eyes, those fucking eyes. My breath catches in my throat as I realize I’m staring at him. Something about him looks or feels familiar but I can’t place my finger on it.

“Uh yeah most people are like that.”

“So are you not from here?” He asks “Cause ya know, you’re nice and stuff.” 

“Oh no I live here. I go to NYU, I’m actually on my way there now.” I look at my phone to check the time but I can barely see due to the cracked screen. 

“Uh it’s 9:0-”

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me” I groan loudly, class started at 9.

“Late for class…?” he asks cautiously, not sure if he’s going to make it worse or not.

“Yes. I have to go, like right now.” I say starting to turn to walk away.

“Wait. Let me buy you that coffee so we can discuss the phone thing. Today isn’t great for me, how does tomorrow sound?” I nod and he hands me his phone. “Put in your number.” I quickly type in my information and hand him back the phone. “Well Zoe,” He says looking down at my contact, “I hope to see you later.”

“You too, I didn’t catch your name though.”

“Rudy. Rudy Pankow.”

“Well Rudy,” I look at him, flashing a small smirk “I’ll be looking forward to your text.” I turn and walk away as fast as I can. Of all the things that make me anxious, being late to class is pretty high up on the list. But I think the idea of meeting Rudy for coffee is consuming my mind more than the fact that I’m late is. I slip into the back of the lecture hall about 15 minutes late, luckily not drawing any attention to myself. I take out my notebook and try to take notes, but my mind is elsewhere.

RUDY’S POV:

I don’t know where the hell I am right now. Chase was completely wrong when he said the New York subway system would be easy to figure out. I have to go film a few interviews for Buzzfeed about season two and I’m lost. Totally lost. 

“West 4th street-Washington Square” The crackle comes over the speaker. 

“Fuck it” I mumble and get off. I can just take an Uber, so much for trying to get the whole experience. I walk up the stairs trying to order an Uber, getting more and more frustrated by the minute. All of a sudden I slam into what I can only hope is another tourist, the last thing I need is someone yelling at me for looking at my phone. 

“Fuck. fuck fuck fuck.” I hear a voice from next to me mutter.

“I am so sorry” Fuck. She’s beautiful, and I’m just straight up dumb. “I’m not from here, which I guess you can tell. Uh, I’m a little lost. I think? I’m not sure where I’m going or what uptown and downtown mean on the subways. Sorry, I’m rambling.” For fucks sake Rudy shut the fuck up. I look to her hand and see that I shattered her entire phone and my stomach drops. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry. Shit. I can get you a new one.” Yes good job. Just offer up an entirely new phone, that’ll help. I mentally smack my forehead. 

“Ok chill for a sec dude” She stands up, locking her eyes with mine. My eyes can’t decide where to look. Her eyes? her lips? She’s stunning. “At least buy a girl coffee before you offer up a phone.” My face turns bright red. I’m a fucking idiot. She’s running late and I decide to just shoot my shot. I shove my phone at her offering up coffee. A smile breaks onto my face when she takes it and types in her contact info. Zoe. 

“Well Rudy, I’ll be looking forward to your text” She smirks at me. God dammit I have never seen anything like her before. She spins on her heel and rushes away. I slide into the nearest taxi, not getting the chance to order an Uber. What the hell just happened?

ZOE’S POV:

I can’t get him off my mind. This isn’t like me at all. Usually I turn random men on the street down, I mean who doesn’t? What if this guy is a serial killer. God Zoe what did you do. Ok but he seems nice enough right? Ugh. I stare at my glass of wine, mind wandering.

“Earth to Zoe” Liv waves her hand in front of my face. I blink and look up.

“Sorry I’m exhausted. Too many unhappy clients today.”

“Uh huh sure.” She rolls her eyes and my friend Katie laughs next to her.

“What?!” I say, a little too defensively.

“Who’s the guy? You only ever act like this, all out of it and daydreamy when there’s a guy”

“There’s no gu-” I get cut off.

“Oh don’t even try. Who is he.” Katie slides next to me and pours more wine in my glass.

“It’s really no one. I met him on the street, he sort of smashed my phone. Well I guess I did. When he ran into me. And then he offered to buy me a new phone just like that. I was like well at least buy me a coffee first, you know, jokingly. But then he actually made a date for tomorrow to get coffee. He said he’d text me, but it’s been hours so I doubt it’ll actually happen. Probably is just being nice.” I mumble the last sentence. 

“A guy on the street?” Liv raises her voice.

“Are you crazy?” Katie says, setting her wine glass down a little too hard.

“I know I know. But something about him just felt familiar. Like I had seen him before or something. He seems our age, he had these insane blue eyes. I couldn’t stop staring.” I look down at the table. “I probably won’t even go, it’s a dumb idea.” 

“Dude, you’ll find someone. I promise. It just takes time” I look over to Liv.

“That’s the thing though. I don’t even want someone, I’m fine on my own right now. If I started seeing a guy, I wouldn’t have time for him, the two of you, work and school. I would literally have a mental breakdown.” I laugh. Part of me knows I’m lying. I don’t want a boyfriend, that part is true. But if that boyfriend was Rudy, I would have to reconsider. That’s crazy right? I’m definitely going crazy. I don’t even know this guy.

“Ok well let’s get drunk and watch hot boys on TV. There’s a show Liv and I wanted to watch on Netflix called Outer Banks. Have you seen it yet?” Katie asks me as she goes to the couch.

“I don’t have the time for that.” I plop down next to her.

“So that’s a no” She grabs the remote.

“I’m so fucking excited. I keep seeing stuff about the show everywhere, season two is coming out next week.” Liv squeals. Katie starts the show and I start chugging my wine so I can get a new glass. I choke on my wine and spit it out all over the ivory rug.

“Zoe! What the Fuck?!” Liv yells, obviously pissed I just ruined her rug. But I can’t stop coughing. I look back to the TV to make sure I’m not seeing things. It’s him, I could never forget those eyes.

“That’s him” I choke out, “That’s the guy who I ran into today.”

“Rudy Pankow? The guy on the TV right now? Are you sure?” Katie looks at me.

“There’s no way.” Liv shakes her head.

“I’m dead serious. That’s the guy.” My phone vibrates from across the room and we all look at each other. I run over to look at it.

Meet me at Think Coffee in SoHo tomorrow at 3pm. Apple Store right next door ;) -Rudy

“No. Fucking. Way”

Taglist: @pink-meringues​ @x-lulu​ @perkeusjackson​

[monstaless]

On The Low - Part Two

Author: @monstaless​

Relationships: fwb!Bambam x Reader, some JB x reader

Warnings: angst, smut, language, my possibly incorrect Korean (which I guess in the context of this fic is okay), some Vagabond spoilers (if you haven’t watched it yet, 10/10 highly recommend)

Song - On The Low by Justin Park

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I’m not sure how I feel about this. I hope you guys like it though! The third and final part will be finished and posted, hopefully, soon.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

They were going on month two of their arrangement. Bambam had no complaints. She didn’t expect much from him. He didn’t have to text her everyday. He didn’t have to ask how her day had been. Although he still did both of those things fairly often as he would with any of his friends. They still had dinner together regularly and she still watched his cats if scheduling had him out of town. The sex was only getting better with time. He had no complaints at all. Not one.

He still hadn’t told anyone other than Yugyeom about it though. If he had plans, that was all he said. Just a simple “Sorry, guys, I’ve got plans this evening.” Though they all exchanged looks, none of them pushed for more information.

Yugyeom, of course, was curious about the situation and always had questions. Were they just secretly dating? What exactly were they if they weren’t dating? Were they exclusive? Was she seeing other people? Was he seeing anyone else? Did Bambam like her as more than a friend? Did she like Bambam as more than a friend?

He didn’t have all the answers though. He’d never done anything like this before. He wasn’t even sure that he understood the situation completely. It was like they were dating, but still in many ways it was completely different.

Bambam: Netflix and chill? I can supply dinner. Y/N: I don’t really feel that great. Bambam: Oh god! Are you contagious?  Bambam: Am I going to be next? How long have you been sick? Y/N: No haha It’s not that kind of sick. Bambam: Oh...do you need anything? Bambam: We can still Netflix and chill.  Bambam: I’m bringing you something sweet. Be there in 20.

He was on his way home anyway and didn’t mind stopping by the nearest Thai restaurant to grab her favorite treat. Especially, if it would make her feel even the slightest bit better.

She opened the door and stood behind it in sweats and a sweater that was way too big. His heart stopped for a moment. He was sure of that. He’d never seen her look so cute. He almost told her, but rethought it. Was this what he was missing out on most of the time? What would she look like in his sweaters?

“Sorry, I know I look terrible.” She must’ve mistaken his silence for disgust. She brushed a strand of hair that had come loose from her braid behind her ear and looked at the floor.

“No, you don’t,” he argued, holding the bag of food out to her in order to avoid having to say more. She took it and looked up at him before even checking the contents.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“I dunno. Depends on what you think it is.”

“Mango sticky rice?!”

“Yup,” he chuckled, feeling very proud of himself. “I thought it might help you feel a little better.”

“You’re the greatest!” She pulled him inside, closing the door behind him. “Wanna watch Vagabond with me?”

“You finished A Korean Odyssey without me, didn’t you?” he asked in disbelief. She gave him a sheepish grin over her shoulder.

“I couldn’t help it. You know how much I love Lee Seung-gi. He stole my heart,” she laughed. He did know how much she loved Lee Seung-gi. She swooned over him every time she saw him: TV, magazines, commercials. All of it. It was hard not to know how much she loved the actor. “Also, I couldn’t just stop there. The suspense was killing me. Do you want something to drink? I have hot tea.”

“Sure, I’ll take some.”

She ushered him to the sofa and he took a seat to wait for her return. She handed him a cup of tea and a fork for his container of sticky rice before sitting down next him. Then cocooned herself in her favorite fuzzy blanket and reached for the remote.

He shot her a look as she pressed play on Vagabond without starting it over. He looked at her in disbelief.

“You better start this whole series over for me, if you want me to watch it with you.” He made a face at her when she hesitated. “I’m not kidding. I’ll leave right now and take the sticky rice with me.”

She pouted, but went back to the episode selection to start it over. She scooted in closer to him so that she could lean against his shoulder. Then popped open the mango sticky rice and dug in.

“Oh my god! Why would you make me watch this? That poor kid!” He protested in horror as he swiped at his watering eyes. They were still only on episode one. She didn’t answer and he looked over to find her asleep, cuddled into his side like it was the most natural thing ever. His heart skipped a beat. He’d never seen her like this. She’d never fallen asleep during a show and she was rarely this cuddly. They’d never been in a position like this. He didn’t know what to do. He could wake her up, but then he’d lose this moment. He could let her sleep, but then she might miss something in the show and she’d be mad at him. 

He turned his attention back to the TV, but now he couldn’t refocus on it. Not with her snuggled up to him like this. He made his decision.

“Y/N?” he nudged her gently. Then repeated her name a second time. She opened her eyes and then, realizing where she was, sat up quickly. “Do you want me to go home so that you can get some sleep?”

“You don’t have to. Sorry that I fell asleep on you,” she murmured. “I’m just super tired. I think I’m okay now though.”

But Bambam wasn’t okay. The image of her sleeping peacefully on his shoulder was burned into his brain. A glimpse of what he could have if they were more. Something he could have every time he was home. This was one of the things he was missing out on. This was the difference, he realized.

She was hanging out with JB. She’d turned him down for JB. He tried not to feel betrayed. He knew that she and JB were friends and that they hung out regularly. He also knew that his request to hang out had been last minute and she’d been planning to hang out with JB for the past week. She’d told him a week ago about her plans and in his excitement, he’d forgotten. She’d even told him that he could join them.

He couldn’t occupy all of her time though and he had nothing to be jealous of. He’d agreed to this situation. Even if something happened between her and JB, he couldn’t actually get mad about it. He’d known all along that exclusivity wasn’t part of the deal. 

It just bothered him that it was JB. If it had been any other member, maybe he wouldn’t have felt so insecure, but he knew that she was into JB. She’d been into JB since the first time she met him. Everyone knew.

Y/N: Sorry that we couldn’t hang out today. Y/N: JB is about to leave. I can make it up to you when he leaves, if you want 😏 Bambam: You know that I’m not gonna turn down apology sex.

“Damnit, Bam. People are gonna ask,” she grumbled as she stood in the bathroom inspecting the mark he’d left on her skin. She shot him a look over her shoulder and he replied with a shrug.

“You can use makeup to cover it, you’ll be fine.” He hoped she wouldn’t though. He wanted JB to know that she was seeing someone. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so jealous of JB. Maybe it was because the other day, JB had asked him about her. JB’s curiosity was making him concerned that their arrangement might end soon. He knew that she liked JB. She didn’t try to hide it. She got all smiley when they were texting and if she was around him, she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him.

Lately, she had been spending almost as much time with JB as she spent with Bambam.

“What’s up with you? You’re weird today.” She pointed out as she sat next to him on the bed. Her annoyance about the mark had dissipated. She was genuinely concerned and he felt a pang of guilt for letting his jealousy get the better of him. “I’m sorry we couldn’t hang out earlier.”

“It’s not that. It’s just...work stress. I’m sorry,” he offered.

“You know you can talk to me about it, right?” 

“Of course. It’s just the usual stuff. I’ve got a lot of work to do. I should probably go.” He tugged on his T-shirt.

“Oh. Okay. Um, text me if you need anything,” she offered as she followed him to the door.

JB had seen the marks on her neck. He’d asked Bambam if she was seeing anyone and Bambam, still feeling guilty about being so jealous, fought the urge to lie. He told a half truth instead. That she was seeing someone, but he didn’t think that it was serious. When JB asked what he meant, Bambam explained that she and the man she was currently involved with were sleeping together, but that appeared to be the extent of their relationship. Jaebeom looked disgusted and Bambam felt a little bit of surprise that the truth had actually worked in his favor.

Until, JB spoke again and Bambam realized that it was actually quite the opposite. JB was disgusted that the man hadn’t committed to her. He didn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t want to call her theirs. Bambam pointed out that maybe she was the one who didn’t want anything more. JB made a face and stated that either way, the guy obviously wasn’t the one for her. Bambam decided to drop it before JB unknowingly insulted him more.

“You know that you don’t have to go home, right? You can stay here,” he offered as she started to get out of the bed. She laughed.

“Bam, I literally live an elevator ride away. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I know. I just figured I’d offer. It’s pretty chilly tonight.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “My heating system works, you know?”

“Why are we still doing this? Why don’t we just make it official? I know you said that you didn’t want something serious, but this isn’t that different. I can give you whatever you want.”

“I just am not interested in being tied down right now. This works for me.”

“You like Jaebeom-hyung, don’t you?” he questioned, immediately regretting his childish outburst, hating how rude he’d sounded. She looked at him in surprise. It was too late to take it back now though. He might as well get his answers.  It had been gnawing at him for weeks. He adjusted his tone this time though. “Why don’t you date him? It seems like he likes you. You hang out all the time. Why do you keep coming to me?”

“Really? This has nothing to do with Jaebeom. You’re an idol, Bambam! You know what that means. Why would I want to date an idol, Bam? Why would I want to hide my relationship from the whole world? Why would I choose to date someone that I can’t be seen in public with? Why would I date someone who can’t marry me or have children with me because it means putting their job on the line? You said when you started this that you didn’t want anything serious!”

“Why didn’t you go for him first? Why did you choose me?”

“I just told you that this has nothing to do with Jaebeom. You made the first move, Bam. I told you the first time that I didn’t want anything serious and you said you were okay with that. You said that you didn’t want anything serious either.”

“That was before I knew how much I really liked you.”

“I don’t think that we should keep doing this.” She took a deep breath and shimmied into her dress. “I need to go home.”

“Y/N. Wait!” He tried to follow her, but by the time he’d gotten his jeans pulled on and made his way to the door, the elevator doors were already closing. “Fuck!”

He slammed the door and pressed his back against it. He was torn between trying to talk to her and just letting it go completely. He should’ve just kept his mouth shut. Who knew if she’d ever talk to him again.

Bambam was surprised to see JB in the parking garage of his building. JB explained that he was there to see Y/N. They hadn’t hung out in a while and she’d been pretty quiet for the past week. He was quiet for a moment before asking Bambam if something had happened between her and the guy that she had been seeing. Bambam shrugged and admitted that he hadn’t spoken to her recently, but he hadn’t seen her with the guy. He skipped the part where it was because he was the guy and they’d been avoiding each other.

“Geunyoneun manggo chapssareul joahamnida,” he offered as the elevator doors opened.It was his way of apologizing to her. He knew that she didn’t want to see him. She would’ve said something if she did. Instead, it had been radio silence. “Geugosi geunyoreul giun nage hal gosimnida.”

He didn’t wait to see if JB got on the elevator or not. He was pretty sure that he’d lost her for good either way. He would’ve settled for just staying friends, but he’d lost his temper and now he’d lost his best friend.

He couldn’t sleep.

When he’d returned home, JB’s car had still been in the parking garage. His mind couldn’t stop playing through the possibilities. Had she changed her mind? Was she taking a chance on JB? Or had JB just taken his place? He couldn’t believe that he’d let it go this far. He’d known that she had a thing for JB. She and JB had hit it off from the start. He’d gone into their arrangement knowing that eventually it would come to an end. He’d known that it would never be more than just sex. He’d agreed to that arrangement. How had he convinced himself that it might ever be something more?

He had never had the right to be jealous. Especially not now. They were done. She was free to see JB if she wanted. She’d always been free to see JB if she wanted.

[team-science-mega-nerds]

Fictober Prompt: “You keep me warm”

Fandom: Supergirl

Pairing: Alex x Sam

This isn’t her first choice. In fact, this isn’t even her last choice. Sam hadn’t really considered the idea at all until she’d heard that the vet’s office was all filled up on slots for the weekend and Sam would have to pay $75 more a night, just to board her pup at someplace fancier. It’s not that she doesn’t love her little guy more than anything in the world, but she barely had enough money to get home and go to her aunt’s funeral, she certainly couldn’t afford this. 

And then it hits her. Literally, as it turns out.

Her neighbor is heading toward the apartment right across the hall from Sam’s and bumps right into Sam’s side with a homf. “Ohmygod!” Sam’s eyes widen when she sees that her neighbor, Alex, is carrying a large 3D printer. “Sorry,” Alex mumbles as she struggles to open her door while also balancing the printer. 

“Oh. Hi. Do you need…?” Sam reaches for Alex’s keychain and sees that there are about fifty keys on the ring. “Jesus.”

“Yeah, I work in a lab. Lots of hush-hush stuff. It’s the small gold one,” Alex points out. Sam finds the key and opens the door for Alex. While Alex waddles her way into her apartment - which is a surprising mix of eclectic trinkets, bold colors, and three different coffee makers - Sam gets an idea. 

“Hey, are you busy today slash tomorrow?” Alex puts the printer in the corner of the room and turns toward Sam with something that resembles suspicion in her eyes. “I...so my aunt’s dead.”

“Oh god.”

“Her funeral is tomorrow and I need to...but then there’s my dog and I kinda need someone to…” Sam runs her fingers through her hair. “Do you mind watching him for two days? I’ll pay you and he’s really good. Like really good. But needy. Like mother like doggo,” Sam pauses for a laugh, Alex continues to look slightly confused. “I can pack up everything and write what he needs, it’s just-.”

“Say no more. I love dogs.” Sam doesn’t exactly know that she can trust Alex but she knows that Alex organizes game nights at the apartment complex. And that she seems to have a stable - probably very weird too - job. But Sam doesn’t have much of a choice. Alex is so eager and happy when Sam brings her dog over that she thinks it just might work. 

“Um, I should give you my number. Just in case. I mean...nothing will go wrong, obviously, but...just in case.” They exchange numbers while Sam’s dog walks around Alex’s apartment smelling everything. Sam gives Alex a warm smile, kisses her pup on the head, and gathers her things to go to the airport. 

Which leaves Alex, now, in a bind. Alex does the only thing she can think to do which is turn on her phone, hit her speed dial, and wait. Elated brown eyes stare at her, so Alex seeks out treats to toss his way. “Good boy, who’s a good boy.” Alex knows that this is how it’s done because she’s gone to a dog park with Kara. Gentle head rubs, a little scratch of the ears, and dogs are all yours. “You are so cute, aren’t you, Chewy?” The tail-wagging seems like a good sign so Alex keeps scratching and feeding the dog treats until she hears a loud knock at her door. “It’s open, come in!” 

“Are you on crack?” This is a totally normal thing for Lucy to say but the way her eyes are popping out of their sockets like she’s some kind of creepy rag doll unnerves Alex a little bit. “You got a dog?” Lucy flings her bag on Alex’s couch and walks over to survey the situation. “You’re allergic to dogs, you absolute moron.” 

“I know that!” Alex continues petting Chewy. “Ignore her, she’s rude,” She tells him. 

Lucy dramatically sniffs the air. “What is it that I smell? Is it the dog or…” Lucy gets really close to Alex and gives her a big whiff. “Is that the stench of you going out of your way for a hot girl?”

“I’m not going out of my way. I’m being friendly. Neighborly.” 

“Okay, Mr. Rogers.” 

“I called you because I need to go to CVS and get some allergy meds. Can you stay here for me?”

“Sure,” Lucy says, already laying on the floor and playing with Chewy. “What’s this big guy’s name?” 

“Chewy,” Alex tells her. Then she remembers, “It’s short for Chewbarka.” Alex can still hear Lucy laughing even as she’s outside of her apartment and walking down the street toward the pharmacy. Okay, Alex will admit it, she thinks Sam is hot. In fact, Alex had mentioned it to Kara as soon as Sam moved across the hall. They occasionally interacted but never to the extent of anything substantial. Until today. She supposes that’s why she jumped at the chance. She didn’t have anything to do this weekend except play with her new 3D printer and she really did like dogs, even if they made her sneeze and itch like crazy. 

Alex’s heart warms at the sight of Chewy getting his belly rubbed when she return. Just as Alex joins in on the action, “I’d stay but I have to get to work.” 

“All good. I’ll be fine here.” 

“Sureee…” Lucy grabs her bag and slings it over her shoulder. “Exactly how hot is this woman?” Alex pulls up Sam’s Instagram and shows it to Lucy. “...don’t fuck it up with the dog and you might actually have a chance, Danvers.” 

Alex prepares herself for the worst. She sets up Chewy’s bed, makes sure she gets the exact measurements of food correct, gives him filtered water, and takes him on a long walk. Alex wonders if this is what it’s like to be a parent. Constantly thinking about someone other than yourself and being too stressed to function. Alex is shocked that all Chewy seems to want to do is cuddle up next to her and watch Netflix.

At one point, Chewy is sprawled out on top of Alex, leaving her hardly any room to breathe, but it’s so damn cute that Alex has to take a selfie. And then...she sends it to Sam. “Why did I do that?” She mumbles to herself, waking up Chewy just enough that he gives her a big lick on her cheek. “What do you wanna watch? Maybe we can find a dog movie?” Alex scrolls around her Netflix. “Dogs always die in movies though…” Alex’s eyes find her printer and she smiles. “I can make you a bunch of dog accessories?” Alex suggests and Chewy gives her another kiss. 

That’ll have to do. 

The thing that Alex realized a very young age was that once she starts a task, she tends to go overboard. Her intention was making a little dog tag for Chewy but what she ends up making is a dog tag, armor so he can be a knight for Halloween, bunny ears in case he wants a second costume, a food dispenser, and sixteen different toys he could play with. “Oh shit, that’s...a lot.” Alex’s phone buzzes and she sees that it’s a text from Sam. 

[SAM]: this is maybe the best picture I’ve ever received, you two look so cute!

Alex doesn’t dwell on the fact that Sam called her cute. There’s a dog involved, anyone is cute with a dog. “Chewy, what do I say?” Chewy doesn’t offer up anything but a nuzzle, so Alex simply likes the message and tries to move on with her life. Which is going really well until her heat cuts off at 11 PM. 

Normally, she’d survive it. It’s California and Alex has blankets, but tonight she’s actually shivering and thinks she might have to go over to Kara’s until Chewy climbs onto her bed and cuddles up next to her. “Thanks, buddy. You keep me warm and I’ll keep you warm.” Alex gets a cozy night's sleep for the first time in five years and wakes to the sound of her phone ringing. She answers without even looking to see who it is. “Hello?” Groggy mumbling would probably best describe Alex’s voice right now. The fact that she’d, apparently, slept until 3 PM makes her feel embarrassed and confused. 

“Wow, you sound adorable.” It’s Sam. Alex sits up and Chewy raises his head to see what’s going on. “I’m outside your door.” Alex climbs to her feet, sprints across her apartment, and flings the door open. “Wow, you’re…” Sam looks at Alex’s attire: sweatpants, fuzzy socks, a hoodie, and a wool hat. “Did you just wake up?”

“Yeah, but...heat went out last night.” Chewy’s entire body wags as he rushes at Sam. “This guy was a really good heater.” 

“God, Alex, thank you so…” Sam takes in the sight of all the new dog toys and costumes. “...much.” 

“I might’ve gotten a little carried away.” Alex gathers the toys into a giant paper bag and holds them out toward Sam. “Also I love Chewbarka but my allergy meds are wearing off, so I should probably sneeze for a few hours.” Sam takes the bag with an awkward smile and then cocks her head to the side. 

“Wait...you’re allergic to dogs?”

“Um...yes?”

“Well, why did you take him? I wouldn’t have asked if I knew he was going to kill you.” 

“He didn’t kill me! The cold weather would’ve killed me. Chewy and I got along just fine, he’s a great Netflix buddy.” Alex scratches his head. 

“If you say so.” Sam smiles a little brighter now. “Maybe once I unpack and you take some allergy medication, I could come over and we could watch Netflix and...chill?” Sam says the word chill with a wink before taking Chewy and all his new toys back to his apartment. 

Alex closes her door and sneezes so hard that she nearly tumbles to the ground.

[feelingfolegandros]

Day 2,3,4, - Wednesday, October 28 - Friday, October 30 2020

Apparently I’m a masochist, because I scheduled two client sessions for my second day back. Well, technically they scheduled themselves that day, but I blame myself for opening my calendar up so soon. Oh well, c’est la vie! I am blessed to have work! Especially work that doesn’t really feel like work. And really, the most lovely people somehow want to work with me, so that feels great. 

The first one was at 9:30am, and I thought I’d do it in my bedroom, because I have a little desk setup in here that is something in between a coffee table and a side table with a very loungey chair with pillows to cushion my butt.. I love it. However, the internet in this room doesn’t always love me. The connection in this particular room isn’t so stable, and it was making it difficult to have a flowy conversation with my client. After moving into the main room where B.W. was working away on her laptop (we’ve joked that it’s our coworking space), I couldn’t concentrate... When I have a one-on-one session, I really need total silence and privacy otherwise it kind of all goes to shit haha...I decided to ask my client to reschedule and she happily obliged. Phew! We had our proper session the following morning (Thursday) and it went well. 

On Thursday, I turned on TV in the living room/ coworking space for the first time and someone’s Spanish Netflix account was still logged in. Score! Not because I need to use a Netflix account (My Dad pays for a shared family account, thank you very much), but because I didn’t have the patience to figure out how to log in or type in my Dad’s email with the freaking TV remote. I gleefully watched Season 4 Episode 1 of Keeping Up with The Kardashians while lying down on the couch eating pasteli (I think that’s what they’re called.. It’s these Greek snacks made of sesame seeds and honey). I don’t think I’ve seen this season before… But it takes place c. 2009 or so when Khloé has her whirlwind romance with Lamar Odom and they get married about a month after they first start dating. Honestly… iconic. I found myself drawing parallels between Khloé and myself. The situation with my boyfriend also feels like quite a whirlwind although I’m not expecting a proposal nor a wedding anytime soon. However, I can’t say I haven’t already fantasized about our Big Fat Greek Beach Wedding, possibly held at the same taverna we met at. 

On Wednesday night, I went for a solo walk in the early evening in Chora. I love being alone here. I spent a lot of time alone on Folegandros when I came for the second time from mid-September to early October. Later, Z.X. came over, mostly because he forgot his phone charger. He ate too much and was a bit stressed about some things regarding his house (which he is renovating himself) so I made him a mint tea. The next morning (Thursday), I discovered we had fresh mint in the garden! So lucky! The mint made an appearance later the same day when I brought a bunch of it to my friend C.D.’s house. He is the brother of the bride of the wedding where Z.X. and I met. I met C.D. at the taverna he works at in the summer alongside his sister. They’re both amazing and funny and warmhearted. C.D. basically lives next door to B.W. and I, and we both paid him a visit - bundle of mint in tow. He boiled water in a traditional Greek coffee contraption for our tea, and we all drank our beverages outside, even though it rained earlier that day. He made himself a freddo espresso with milk. 

C.D. worked in IT in Athens for much of his life, but moved here at the end of January for a fresh start, away from city life. The four of us - the two Greeks Z.X., C.D., and the two Berliners B.W. and I all moved here for the same reason this year… Very interesting! It’s nice to be around people that are all still enthusiastic about the island. Some OG locals, ie. those who were born and raised here, are a little more jaded after the decades they’ve been here. Living somewhere, anywhere, long enough, you’re bound to find things about it that irritate you, even if you live on an island where each beach you go to is more beautiful than the next. 

Today is Friday. Z.X. proposed we go to the beach today, so he picked B.W. and I up around 13h. Before that, we put a load of laundry in and I took the garbage we’ve accumulated over the past couple of days to the bins near the bus stop. (It’s important to note that the plumbing here on Folegandros like much of Greece, is not that robust, so you’re not supposed to flush paper down the toilet. So most people put their used toilet paper in a bin. Hence, part of the reason why we had accumulated two medium-sized bags of garbage in a few days.) I realized on my way back home that there were bins much closer to the house. Another too-late realization was that the shortcut I took on the way there cut through a sheep’s / goat’s pasture. I did notice some poop as I was walking through, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. Are goats chill? I have no idea… I won’t take the risk again, and I also noticed two locals taking the official shortcut which doesn’t involve shuffling over two waist-height concrete walls… It involves using makeshift ladders to scale them! 

Back to the beach! This time, we went to Livadi beach near the port. While B.W. was gleefully swimming parallel to the shore, Z.X. and I were standing about ankle-deep in the water. Suddenly, we felt the submerged sand below us slowly, surreally shift. (Too many “s” words, but I’m leaving it… hahahah) I’m not sure who mentioned it first, but we soon concluded it must have been an earthquake. It reminded me of the only other time I felt one - just over a decade ago when I worked in a giant office building one summer. To me, it felt like a strange tear in the time-space continuum, a strange physical and existential headache, and like techtonic plates below were shifting (which I guess they technically are). Anyway, Z.X. and I got out of the water, more in awe than afraid, and he called one of his friends, who also felt it, and experienced it as dizziness. He checked his phone and there was indeed a 6.6 earthquake further north in Greece. On Samos, two teenagers lost their lives, and in neighbouring Turkey, there were more deaths and injuries as part of the country experienced a tsunami. 

Z.X. and I planned to see each other next on Saturday night, but he called me later on Friday saying that Ireni’s Restaurant (my favourite) was serving rabbit tonight, he was going to eat there with a few of his friends, and would I like to join? Hell yes I would… Hell yes I did. Ireni - a Greek grandmother / matriarch / goddess / chef extraordinaire - obviously stewed those rabbits for us like they were the last rabbits she’d ever stew. They were served very simply with French fries, but we also had chorta (bitter greens) and Greek salad before the main event. Everyone drank alcohol… white wine and Raki I believe, probably beer too, while I had my usual neró (water). It was my first time eating at Ireni’s since the summer, and I was so delighted to be back there. Meeting Z.X.’s friends was great too. One of them lives on Folegandros too, and has a lot of common with Z.X. The other two live in Sifinos (either that or Sikinos… so confusing!) and were in town for a month or so. They could all speak varying degrees of English (more than my pathetic amount of Greek) and it was yet another elbow in the side from God or whoever to learn some more of this beautiful language. Photos from that meal below...

That’s all for now. I have a lot of catching up to do on my daily life here… Both in writing and in general (all shall be revealed soon), but I hope you’re enjoying reading all of this, whoever you are....

[tvdiaries-imagines]

Old Flame: Pt. 2

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1861

OLD FLAME MASTERLIST: CLICK HERE

When you stormed off, you were too heated that you forgot to grab your car keys. So you vampire sped as far away as you could in case Rebekah was following behind you.

Eventually you hid in an alleyway, thinking of where to hide next comfortably. You even thought about hiding in plain sight, like reading a book in the park or getting a drink at the grill. But after a moment of pondering, you had an idea. An idea that you are absolutely dreading. “Shit.” You cursed to yourself aloud.

(Later…)

Here you are in the vacant hallway of the loft building in front of a wooden door. Using your vampire hearing, you can hear commotion going on on the other side. You ball your hand into a fist, placing it at eyes view at the door. It isn’t a secret that you are hesitating to knock.

But after seconds of halting, you knock three times, sighing at what lead you to your utter desperation.

The sound of footsteps approach closer and closer. It stops for a brief moment as if he paused to look through the peephole. And before you know it, the door unlocked and opened without missing a beat.

“I always knew you couldn’t resist me.” Malachai Parker smirked at your presence, giving you an elevator look. He is wearing black jeans and a plain gray tee.

“Shut up, Kai.” You pushed the heretic’s shoulder to pass through and he inhales your scent. “This is the only place I know she won’t find me.”

Entering inside, you notice that Kai’s bed is undone, yet the majority of his loft is tidy. You’ve actually never been inside his place, so you’re impressed that he doesn’t live like a slob.

“Whoa. Hiding from like a stalker or hiding from an enemy?” He asked. “I mean, of course I’ll protect you because-”

“Neither. It’s a long story.”

“I have all the time in the world, hunny bun.”

“Kai, don’t call me that.” You said sternly.

“Fine, babygirl.”

“Stop.” You snarled. One more out of him and you’re going to snap.

“Okay sweetie.” His eyes flashed with humor.

Your frustration kicked in. “I said stop!” You vampire speed towards Kai, holding him by the throat and slamming his back against the wall.

“Okay okay, Y/N.” Kai struggled to get the words out, but he enjoyed your dominance. You ended up releasing your grip over his throat. “Kinky much?” He joked and you shook your head in annoyance. ��Now what do you want to do? Netflix and chill? Or just go straight to chill? I mean my bed is just a few steps away.”

You groaned, allowing yourself to sink down into the couch like mush. “I just want to sit here. I’ve had a day.”

“Great! We can sit here and stare at each other all day.”

“Kai enough. You’re seriously giving me a headache.”

“Fine, Y/N. Fine.” He sighed dramatically. “Honestly though. What’s going on? Who are you hiding from?” Kai laid over his sofa with his hands placed behind his head, staring at the ceiling. You sat on the love seat beside it.

“I’m hiding from my ex’s sister.”

“Umm…” Kai glanced at your, looking evidently muddled. You don’t blame him because it does sound crazy. Normally you wouldn’t care to give Kai an explanation, but since he’s allowing you to hideout in his home, you at least owe him this.

“So I have an ex who lives in New Orleans. His sister is in town and told me that he’s spiraling and she needs my help to bring him back to normal or something.” Your eyes flickered at the ceiling as you attempted to shake the old memories you have with the hybrid.

His eyes never left the ceiling. “Why would you want to help your ex? And how would you help your ex if he’s all the way in Mardi Gras city?”

“Put the pieces together, Kai.”

Kai nibbled at his bottom lip in thought for a moment. Swiftly and briskly he shot up, planting his feet to the floor as if the couch was on fire. “No way. There’s no way you’re going.” The concern in his voice grew by the second.

“Hello, I never said I was going.”

“I know I know I know.” He paced leisurely, blinking rapidly. “Just the thought of it stresses me out.” A muscle in his jaw clenched.

“Okay? Relax Kai. It not that serious.”

“Can’t they send your ex to a therapist or a mental hospital? Exes aren’t supposed to be helping their exes. Tell the sister to hit the road.”

“Kai, it’s not that kind of ex.”

“Yeah sure. So…” Kai sat beside you. He seemed to overlook your hint that your ex isn’t human. His mood lightened. “What do you want to do? We can play monopoly. Which is perfect because we’ll be playing for hours. Oh oh! I know. How about twister. Or even better. Naked twister.”

He placed a lock of hair behind your ear and your face contorted. You grabbed the couch pillow and hit Kai’s chest with it. “Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Though Kai was being a pain, you couldn’t help but chuckle.

Kai stood from the couch and grabbed the remote from the coffee table. “Here. Go watch some tv and I’m going to work on a cloaking spell.” He said, throwing the remote beside you.

Before walking off, he just remembered something. “Oh duh. Silly me.” You ignored his remark as you browse through Netflix. Kai casually pulls a strand of hair off of your scalp and you inhale sharply. “Gee. Thanks for the heads up.” You added.  

After hours of binge watching and constantly having to remove Kai’s arm off of your shoulder, it was time to sleep. You turned the tv off, yawning as you stood and stretched your limbs. “Where’s your stash?” You asked, not having to specify human blood.

“Fridge. Bottom drawer.” Kai replied. He made his way to his dresser drawer and pulled out a fresh sheet along with a blanket. He also stole a pillow from his bed before making the couch.

Standing beside the island, you smiled faintly at his gesture as you sipped through the straw of the blood bag. “Thanks Kai.”

“The bed is all yours tonight.” He said, removing his clothes one by one and tossing it inside his laundry basket.

“But the couch is fine.” You protested.

Kai was in his boxers when he passed the threshold of his bathroom. “No seriously, Y/N. Take the bed.” He slammed the door behind him, tone resonating with solemnity. But you weren’t phased. Instead, you snickered and made yourself comfortable underneath the covers on the couch, allowing yourself to drift off to sleep.

When Kai’s lengthy shower was ceased, he wrapped a towel around his waist and purposely vacated the bathroom as so. He frowned when he found you asleep on the couch because he couldn’t tempt you with his muscular physique.  

He kneeled beside you and brushed off the strand of hair on your face, fake pouting. “Stubborn little hunny bun.” He carried you bridal style and tucked you in his bed without waking you.

(The Following Morning…)

Upon waking, there is a faint noise that grows louder the longer your eyes are open. The warmth of the covers brought you to want to lay in them all day, however, you’ve realized you have matters to attend to.

Sitting up, you are both muddled and vexed that you found yourself in Kai’s bed. You sighed in relief that he isn’t beside you. Instead, he’s walking towards his door with nothing but his sweatpants on. It seems someone has been knocking on his door quite a few times.

Kai opened the door and it’s Damon. Disappointment clouded the Salvatore’s features. “Really, Y/N? You’re sleeping with another enemy?” Damon glared.

“Ha!” Kai exclaimed. “Oh I wish, Damon.”

“Damon, how did you even find me?” You asked.

Damon snickered as he entered inside to sit at the foot of the bed. “Thanks to bon bon, she broke his cloaking spell.”

“Of course.” You rolled your eyes. “But what are you even doing here? You could’ve called.”

Rebekah appeared underneath the doorway and you cursed to yourself. “Aren’t you delectable?” She holds a lengthy pause at Kai’s abs before shifting her view to you. “Come now, sister. You have a plane to catch.”

“Oh no no no.” Kai attempted to shut the door but Rebekah halted him from doing so, due to her being a much older vampire than he is.

You watched as everything unfolded. Kai grasped Rebekah’s arm. She yelped in pain, nearly sinking to the ground as Kai siphoned her. “Oh no you don’t, sucker.” Damon said through clenched teeth, standing. You knew he was going to try to separate the two, so you vampire sped towards the buffoons to avoid a bigger mess.

“That’s enough!” You shouted. Thankfully the heretic didn’t resist when you released his grip on the original. His chest rose and fell as if he’s consumed with power.

“So you two are working together huh? To get me to go to NOLA?” Your nostrils flared. It wasn’t difficult for you to figure it out.

“And Stefan.” Damon added. “But he’s on call.”

“But you, Damon. You’re on Rebekah’s side? Out of all people?”

“I have my reasons.” He shot a glare at Kai who is gazing at you.

Rebekah briskly grabbed your upper arm and vampire sped you to the hallway, closing the door on the way. “Really, Rebekah?”

“Please, Y/N. Please listen to me.” Rebekah said desperately and you took in a deep breath.

Kai appeared down the hall. “Y/N!” He shouted, concerned.

“Kai it’s fine. Go back inside.” You said. The heretic obeyed and allowed your privacy with the blonde. Your view shifted back to Rebekah. “I can’t go.”

“Honestly, if my family wasn’t desperate, I wouldn’t be here. Nik doesn’t know it yet, but he needs you right now.”

“Oh sure he does.” You spat in a disbelieving tone, pacing slowly.

“Yes it has been some time, dear sister. But my brother is in a very dark place right now and once upon a time…” Rebekah paused, softening her tone. “...you were his light.”

You stopped in your tracks and your eyes fell to the ground at Rebekah’s last line. You were his light. Happy memories with Klaus suddenly flashed before your eyes, nearly forgetting the heartache you went through. It has been quite some time, so you’re not hurting as much anymore. But a sprinkle of it still lingers inside of you.

“If I do this. If. Your family owes me.” You stated firmly, expression hardened. As much as you do not wish to be reunited with your ex lover, you know for a fact that Rebekah will not give up. And you don’t know if you’d be able to live with yourself if something terrible happens to Klaus from his fit of rage.

Rebekah’s eyes gleamed, intoxicated with joy. “Of course, sister. We’ll happily be in your eternal debt.”

TAGS: @ynm1505 @ravenmoore14 @xdontxcare @seasiren96 @anyasthoughts @woodworthti666 @gocheescakegirl @agentmarvel13

[prettywordsyouleft]

Could You Marry Me? - Part 5

Summary: Marriage was something you dreamed of reaching after falling in love with the man of your dreams. Yet the romantic in you is thrown out the window when you end up having to fake your engagement with your personal assistant.

Pairing: Son Hyunwoo x reader

Genre: office au / ceo x personal assistant / co-workers to lovers au / romance / fluff / fake dating

Warnings: none

Index: Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

You had learned a great deal about your fiancé over the last few weeks. No longer were you hesitant when you ordered coffee for him, though you had learned he was more of an Espresso kind of guy. And, he was playful. You were still coming to terms with this one. Hyunwoo had always been so reliable, quiet and efficient, you had never imagined that out of work hours he would smile as much as he did, laugh loudly at your stupid jokes, or tease you incessantly either.

But you liked it and it made the time you spent together off the clock something you anticipated.

Because of your easiness with each other now, it was effortless to continue the charade of being a fake couple. Both sets of parents were convinced you were a perfect match in work and love. Mina had been placated by the masculine touches around your home, and you even succumbed to having a guilty pleasure of spritzing his cologne over your spare pillow in your bed. It helped you relax on tiring days, comfortably sinking into the pillow instead of your own.

Of course, it wasn’t just meetings with people for wedding details that you attended together. You found yourselves leaving the office at the same time now, sharing dinners several times a week and even watching Netflix together at your apartment. Netflix and Chill was a recurring way to spend the evenings, though admittedly, it wasn’t anything more than vegetating on your sofa watching shows.

Which you both classed as a perfect way to end a long day.

Hyunwoo wasn’t as two-dimensional as you had once viewed him. Sure, he was still straight-forward, capable and efficient. But you had gotten to know more about your personal assistant than you ever thought possible. And when he invited you to his upcoming swim meet, well, you were kind of excited to go. Especially when you realised it would be your first time seeing him without a top on.

Since when had you wanted to see what was under the clothes he wore?

The problem was you were spending too much time together now.

Initially, you didn’t see this as an issue. The more you did together, the further evidence you could show to Mina and those believing this was a real relationship that you were a healthy couple having fun before your wedding, dating up a storm. Your affections for Hyunwoo were evident, reaching out to straighten his suits when in the elevator at work or holding his hand when you were out together. He would smile every time, and you were certain he now stood even closer to you at work, his scent stronger, enveloping you in a hazy state. The two times he had hugged you out of nowhere were possibly the best moments of your life.

You hadn’t been aware that you had blurred the lines completely.

Where did the lie begin and end now? With every touch, smile and new fact about Hyunwoo, your heart started to beat to a different rhythm. You knew this feeling all too well. It was the beginnings of love. And it scared you more than faking your engagement had.

After all, you hadn’t forgotten Hyunwoo was your personal assistant. It would be a little difficult to do so, given the nature of how closely he worked at your side every day. It was in his duties to personally help you with anything you may need to make your life function more effectively. And okay, your marriage contract wasn’t really normal conduct for a CEO and secretary to undertake. Yet you often laid awake at night worrying that he was still taking that role seriously. Was he only like this with you to ease your mind about the lie you had undertaken over two months ago now? You often thought back to the day where you both signed the contracts. Of your feeble comment about falling in love with him and Hyunwoo refuting that you hadn’t over the last seven years. You wanted to believe now that he said that because he had actually wanted you to. Your romantic notions led you down the flowery path of him having a crush on you all this time, waiting for you to realise you loved him too.

And you had fallen in love with him, though, it came as the by-product of something that was designed to fool others.

You had essentially only fooled yourself instead.

The lack of sleep was evident and you knew Hyunwoo had noticed. It was his job to recognise any of your weaknesses and remedy them to the best of his ability. So when he came into your office with a cup of coffee and some supplements from the nearby pharmacy, your heart effectively swooned and crashed simultaneously.

You couldn’t figure if the gesture was something more earnest than keeping you on task or not.

“Is there anything I can assist you with, Y/N?” Hyunwoo questioned and you stared up at him, wondering why you hated that statement now. Responses flooded your mind immediately, some as questions to return to him, others were tools of avoidance, to push aside your confusion. You opted to implement the latter, smiling forcibly.

“Thank you Hyunwoo, that will be all.”

He hesitated, staring at you intently. His hand instinctively reached out towards you, yet he held back at the last moment, his brows knitting together instead. He didn’t push you.

He never did.

“If you need me, I’ll be at my desk.”

You groaned heavily as soon as he shut the door.

“You’ve fallen for him,” Tanith concluded later that evening before you had even finished your spiel and you glanced at your best friend warily. If there was anything else you regretted about starting this fake relationship, it was the fact you had inadvertently distanced yourself from the woman. It wasn’t as if Tanith was against your use of Hyunwoo as your fiancé, she had been the mastermind behind it in the first place.

But you had been too busy with fooling everyone, including yourself, that you hadn’t put enough effort into spending time with her. Buying dinner tonight wouldn’t ease the guilt you felt in shifting your focus now that you were engaged.

“I knew this would happen,” she proclaimed and you glanced at her again, blinking rapidly and reaching for your glass of wine. You downed in one shot, placing the empty glass down before addressing her statement.

“You did not.”

Tanith smirked. “Y/N, I’ve known you my whole life. I know this started out as a ploy to become friends with some rich girl who has never really cared for you until now. To save face since you work with a lot of investors connected to her. But as soon as Hyunwoo agreed to this, I knew your hopeless romantic side would fall for him. Just like in that drama we watched earlier this year about the fake marriage, you have fallen for your husband to be too.”

“My life is hardly anything like that drama,” you insisted, cheeks flaming despite your response. You didn’t want to be like a drama anymore. Because this was real life and you had spent too many years hoping for something as romantic as on the screen was. Over the past week, you had come to realise acting and reality were two very different worlds.

And you were riding the line of both of them right now.

“Are you exhausted from it all?” Tanith asked, the humour now erased from her face. She leaned over the table between you both, placing a hand over yours. “You’re worrying me looking this lost, you know. It’s an easy fix, isn’t it? Just confess how you’re feeling to him! I’m sure he feels the same way as you do. What guy agrees to marry their boss so readily if they don’t feel something towards her initially?”

“Hyunwoo is my personal assistant, Tanith. If he is only doing all of this to follow the contract, then my heart is going to shatter.”

“What if he’s not?” she countered and you stared at your best friend, eyes wide. You had asked yourself this same question repeatedly now. And you were still in a state of despair. Could you risk sharing your feelings with him and finding out that Hyunwoo actually returned them? What would you do then? You were already struggling to keep on task at work because of his little mannerisms you were now hyperaware of.

For a second you imagined the flipside. Could you work with him after finding out he didn’t love you back? He had been there for so long now; you had not once considered him resigning from his job.

But he could if this all went sour.

You cursed the very day you signed that contract. You should have told Mina the truth, instead of winding down this twisted path that had your heart at the very centre of it.

You looked up at your best friend, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. “I don’t know what to do anymore and it scares me.”

_________________

Part 6

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[MONSTA X Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

[pagesaplenty]

Fridays with the Booksellers: Navigating Change, Negative People (and a world if we are being honest), and a Reading Mojo that would rather be napping

In a rare moment of ‘hey you should write’ and ‘hey wouldn’t it be cool to have a column of sorts’, I’m sitting down tonight, before bed, to write a little something for a Friday post for the shop. It is the age of TLTR (too long to read), of the programmed mindset to not click out of one location (don’t leave FACEBOOK ever), and an increasing mass exodus from the aforementioned. It is difficult to find an added self-motivation to write. We might be writing for no one and that might sound easy because it removes pressure to be great (though we should strive for this regardless), but it has this side effect of prompting a why bother response.

I had this brewing idea to get back into writing and writing for the shop, about books, the shop, and even life. It kept sitting in the back corner, rather patiently, and then an email came through on my account. I haven’t even read it yet, but the subject line was enough to prod some words out of me this evening.

“Self-expression, not self-promotion” *

Call my mind a little blown away by this idea because increasingly I’ve become disenchanted with this saturated mindset of social media to be an influencer. It is pressure; it is filled with holes that anxiety, depression, and a load of other things are waiting to fill. I can’t keep up and even when I try I ultimately feel as though I’m failing, but by whose standards I don’t know. It may be akin to the great and powerful Oz, behind a curtain dictating to us the rules and regulations for influencing in an influence hazed world. Yet behind that curtain is someone like you and me.

I didn’t mean for this to turn preachy or self-reflecting. I wanted to start a self-motivating writing project for the shop’s page. Low-pressure, fun inducing, thought provoking, and read worthy. We haven’t been minding our page at full tilt lately and we took a break from the After Hours Book Club for August. Our September is looking CRAZY and our birthday is in October. I think you can say we are feeling the pressure a bit these days to perform.

Freddy and I both have jobs outside of the shop. Some of you know this and have known, but many may not realize it. I recently accepted a job locally that fits in well with the hours I work at the shop. It is still a new challenge to accommodate the change and find a routine that benefits everyone. It is change and change can be a kind of four-letter word. We take each day and we strive to grow as business partners and as adults in this crazy world. Essentially this is what we have been doing since day one of opening our shop at 19 and 21.

Perhaps it is because we are young, because we are women, because we live in a small-town, or this is the Midwest so live with it, but Negative Nellys have been aplenty at Pages Aplenty lately. I’m not telling you this so you can assure of us the opposite or rush out to buy more books because you might read in this a ‘we are not thriving’ vibe (because that’s not the case). However, I believe it is important to manage your naysayers with a “chew like you have a secret” swift style and to be honest with fellow conspirators. In honesty maybe others can be educated or take the highroad and in this case the highroad is stop saying negative things.

Someone in passing remarked to me today that they can’t believe the shop has made it this long in a town like Mentone. Every week we have people who walk into the shop and tell us bookstores are dying. In a pat you on the head style comment, eBooks are taking over the market and isn’t it sad for you. I just can’t believe you can make it still.

Chew like you have a secret is essentially this motto that makes you smile when you remember the movie it came from and then it reminds you that a small percentage (oh howdy do we hope it is small) will always think bookstores are dying. It is easier to keep chewing and not waste your breath explaining to someone who believes such nonsense. Books have been around for longer than any other media type (I think it is okay to write such a blanket statement, but if not I’m sure someone will comment and correct me).

The other day I got chills thinking about the printing press. I am getting them now. Here stood this machine that was going to guarantee, not right away but eventually, that millions of people would be given access to words. I wonder if Gutenberg had an epiphany and his mind went forward in time to show him THIS IS THE IMPACT YOU WILL HAVE, THIS IS WHY YOU MUST CREATE THIS THING. Chills.

When I look at a page, when I swipe on a screen, when I listen to someone, and when the story is being told in pictures as well as words, I never want to think or fear that books are dying… because they are not. They are adapting. They are thriving. They are being used as tools in resistance, to strengthen resolves, to unite, and yes in bad places by bad people for not such good things. But books are not lying down, booksellers are not weeping in the streets with sandwich boards…unless you think that would help *wink*.

Books are published every day. A writer is sitting at their desk each and every hour. Booksellers are not waning; they are dreaming up ways in which they will not break into song and dance because that is how excited they are to share their love with you.

It is almost 10 years for our “little shop” and the comments haven’t stopped. Some weeks they are worse than others and some weeks we have none. We both realize and accept this is all part of the job and that if we are meant to be here 5, 10, 15 years from now… books will always be dying, according to someone. We will just keep chewing our secrets and sharing with the other secret keepers.

I was going to delve into my reading mojo being on hiatus and how you are not alone, but it is getting late. I also like where I ended the above. As an episode of the Book Riot podcast recently suggested… just go with it. Maybe you need that break to enjoy other things and your love of reading hasn’t gone away. It wants to give you space for a Netflix binge or to enlighten your mind with some thought provoking podcasts. Reading mojo will return, that’s a promise.

Happy Friday, Pete

* Thanks Shuffle for that boost in my writing.