#and my bestie is visiting me for a week which means more GOING OUTSIDE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

outerbankies · 3 years ago

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new light part 4: underneath the moonlight — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

summary: you and rafe meet the parents (properly) and go to midsummers together, but not everyone is as smitten with your relationship as you two are.

pairing: rafe x kook reader

warnings: drinking, swearing

a/n: say hello to a few characters (tw: ward) i have had yet to feature thus far 🤗 more of y/n being besties with kelce (and topper this time—our fave obx himbo) there’s a lil drama in this part y’all... into the thick of it. thanks for all the feedback 💖not canon rafe

my writing

yeah if you give me just one night, to meet you underneath the moonlight

You’re startled awake by a loud knock on your bedroom door. You’re squished between 6 feet and 3 inches worth of boy and the pink wall your bed is pushed up against. Rafe always insisted on laying on your outer side, closest to the door of your bedroom. Which means you often woke up pressed into the wall, your neck sometimes aching from the awkward angle. Not to mention Wilbur always taking up the space at your feet, Rafe usually nudging him into your space so he could stretch out.

Rafe stirs also, making sleepy noises and stretching his legs where they hang off the end of your bed. He grumbles and smacks his lips together a few times, your hand instinctively coming to rub along his jaw. His eyes flutter open as the sun streams in through your window, illuminating the hint of golden stubble on his chin. You’d only slept over together a few times, since you were both staying with your parents for the summer, so it’s always nice to wake up with your boy in your bed.

Oh fuck. Your boy is in your bed.

Rafe's eyes widen at the same time as yours.

“Oh shit, we fell asleep?” he whispers, head whipping around your room.

“Fuck, you have to hide right now,” you whisper, stumbling through your thoughts sleepily.

Another knock sounds from the door.

You extract yourself from your spot between Rafe and the wall, his hands guiding you by your hips as you tumble over him.

“Just, fuck, just like—get under the covers or something. God, I hope it’s not my dad,” you whisper.

“Me too,” he says, slinking into the gap between your bed and the wall as best he can, covering his face with a pillow.

You check that he’s concealed enough, turning to open the door just the slightest bit. Dylan stands in the crack.

“We have brunch at the Club in an hour, mom wanted me to ask if you invited Rafe,” he peers around you, gaze moving to behind your shoulder. “Or I could just ask him myself. Sup, Rafe?”

“Shut the fuck up, Dyl,” you whisper-shout. “Where are mom and dad? Can he sneak out the back? And don’t lie to me, or I’ll tell them about Hilton Head.”

“God, calm down. Dad’s in the garage and mom’s getting ready. Just have him go now.”

“Thanks,” you say, all but slamming the door in his face. You turn around and press your back against the door, letting out a shaky breath.

The covers rustle, and Rafe springs out of your bed to gather his things while Wilbur watches him. He always starts pouting when he notices that Rafe is putting on his hat or shoes, signs that he’s about to leave.

“We are so dead.”

“You don’t think he’ll say anything, do you? I don’t think I can sit at brunch with your dad in an hour if he knows I slept in your bed last night.”

“Not if he’s smart,” you sigh. “Want me to walk you out?”

“No, I got it. Just keep Willy in here. I’ll text you when I make it out alive. If you don’t hear from me, just assume your father murdered me,” he jokes, leaning down to give you a kiss after he slips his shoes on. “See you back here in an hour?”

“Yes, please be early. And clean shaven.”

“Yes ma’am. And don’t insult me,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Nervous?”

“Not nearly as nervous as I will be if I get caught, sweetheart. Gotta go so I have time to shower—and shave. See you in a bit.”

He gives you one last kiss before he departs, and you move to the window with Wilbur to watch him slink across the backyard, arms crossed and a fond grin on your face. He turns and blows you one last kiss before he disappears around the side of your house.

—

“Y/n, can I speak to you for a second?”

Your dad’s voice comes from his study as you pass by, checking yourself over in the entryway mirror one more time. Rafe should be here any minute.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Come sit,” he says, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. You feel the hair stand up on the back of your neck. Your dad only invited you to talk in his study if it was something serious. The last time he did was when he told you he was going to take away your Range Rover if you didn’t pull your Bs up to As your freshman year of college. You’ve had a 4.0 ever since.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. Just wanted to talk about the new boyfriend.”

“What about him?”

“I always knew of him while the two of you were growing up. But I talked to him a bit back during Dylan’s grad week.”

As an unruly teenager and the rightful heir to his father's business, everyone in the Outer Banks knew about Rafe and his antics. Good or bad. You could even recall your mom gossiping to your dad, words passed on from Rose, about some of his more... notable incidences.

“Y-yeah, he's...” you trail off, searching for the right words to describe Rafe these days.

“Seems like a good kid,” your dad supplies.

“What did you guys talk about?”

“Business, mostly. His future and whatnot.”

“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No, I just wonder... are you sure about this one? When you were kids, that boy was always causing trouble. And you know your mother and I were always so proud of how you stayed in line.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But Rafe’s not a boy anymore. Just give him a chance.”

“I will,” your dad says, slapping his knees to stand up. “But I'm also gonna give him a hard time.”

“Dad, please.”

“It’s my job. Your mom gets to freak out about Dylan moving out, and I get to handle scaring every man who gets to look at you.”

The doorbell rings.

“Please. I am literally begging.”

Your dad draws a fake halo around his head, and you just roll your eyes.

The morning gets off to an even more embarrassing start as soon as Rafe crosses the threshold into your house. Wilbur jumps into his arms immediately, all ninety pounds of him, and your mom’s eyes widen.

“My goodness, he’s usually so hesitant around strangers!”

Dylan chokes on a laugh, and if you weren’t across the room you’d have elbowed him in the ribs.

“Oh, I’ve walked Wilbur by Tanneyhill before.”

“Yeah, I-I love Willy. Mrs. Y/l/n, it’s so nice to see you again,” Rafe says, effortlessly following your lead after Wilbur scampers out of his hold. He shakes your mom’s hand politely. Your dad sidles up to her then, fixing Rafe with a stare harder than you’d prefer. “Mr. Y/l/n, you as well. Thanks again, to both of you, for inviting me.”

“Good to see you, Rafe,” your dad says, a strong hand clamping onto his shoulder. “Dylan, come say hi.”

Dylan’s grin is devilish, and you're just watching on in pure horror at this point. “How have you been, Rafe? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

—

Rafe’s grinning ear to ear, hand firm on your thigh, all of the windows in his truck rolled down. He even popped the sun roof, letting you blast your playlist all the way down the road.

“Okay—I just... did that go well?”

“You did great, Rafe.”

Despite Dylan's best efforts to embarrass you two, brunch had gone really well. Your dad took a second to let his guard down, unlike your mother who was immediately gushing over him. You could practically see the wheels in her head turning, the wedding colors she'd picked for you. And your dad came around quick enough once Rafe brought up Formula 1.

Your boyfriend looks so relieved, hand even coming to feel the air pass through his fingers as he hangs his arm out the window, hand on your thigh coming back up to steady the wheel. He taps on it excitedly.

“Lowkey, feel like I nailed it, baby.”

“Okay,” you giggle, leaning over to peck his check. You pull him in with a soft hand to the other side of his face. “Let’s not get too big for our britches.”

“Oh, I’m a parent-meeting expert now. Might go into consulting.”

“You’ve perfected the sport?” you joke.

“No, no. That’s—I’ve never actually met parents before,” he admits.

“No way?”

“Way? Have you?” he asks, slight edge seeping into his tone as he pulls up to the stoplight outside of your favorite coffee spot.

“Uh... once. We weren’t even really dating yet, but they came to visit and he like, ambushed me with them at dinner. They were kinda hippies, though.”

“Yeah?” His tone is clipped as he parks his truck.

“Yeah, some guy from my comparative literature class sophomore year,” you sigh. “But, you’re the first to meet my parents.”

“Mm,” he hums, fingers tapping on your knee. That satisfies him. He gathers one of your hands in his. “You coming in?”

“Will you just get me a latte? Kinda wanna call my mom and debrief.”

He laughs, kissing your knuckles. “I’ll give you a minute, sweetheart. Oat milk?”

—

Your original plans to meet the Camerons fell through, a last minute staging emergency arising when you were all supposed to go for dinner. You’d tried not to look down while Rafe attempted in earnest to cheer you up, telling you how pretty you looked while you took out your earrings and let your hair down. He'd kissed the crown of your hair and apologized profusely, promising they would love you when they finally got to meet you.

“M’not upset.”

“Okay.” His hand stroked your back through the thick cotton of one of his old water polo sweatshirts he’d let you borrow for the night.

“I’m just really nervous about meeting them. You might’ve set the bar a little too high with my parents.”

“You just have a great family.”

“I don’t know,” you said when you finally cracked a smile. “Made it pretty far on your first try.”

“Don’t worry. They’re going to love you, sweetheart.”

You let him kiss your cheek, your forehead, your nose and chin.

“Hope so.”

“Know so.”

And Rafe had somehow convinced your father to let you go to Midsummers with his family, promising to join up for pictures and greetings later. Your dad had willingly let him, to your surprise.

The event was a big deal to Figure 8 patriarchs and matriarchs alike, always trying to outdo the other in every way, all while feigning some sense of island camaraderie. But when Rafe had set aside time at brunch to specifically ask your family for their permission to accompany you to the event, they’d been hard pressed to say no. Your family immediately accepted Rafe as your boyfriend, any lingering hesitations about his character drowned out by the equal chances of your personal happiness and the heightening of their social and business profiles.

But he’d still come to your house to pick you up, ready to greet your parents in the foyer once again.

He takes one look at you in that blush pink dress, hair, makeup and jewelry all done up this time around, daisy flower crown in place, and flicks his eyes around his surroundings. Your father and Dylan were nowhere in sight, and your mother was busy fixing her earrings in the hall. He takes to your side immediately, a kiss to the side of your head followed by his lips pressing against your ear. “I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

With the high from those words, you ride in his truck to Midsummers, nerves never dissipating no matter how many reassurances he speaks across the summer air streaming in through the vehicle. “Remember, they’re gonna love you.”

He helps you down from his truck so you can focus on keeping your dress off the ground, assuring you for the fiftieth time that Rose is going to like your headpiece.

“Miss Y/l/n, how lovely to see you again you at last,” Ward sighs, sounding somewhat fond. “Rafe’s been talking my ear off about this, meeting you again even though we’ve already met. Sorry we couldn’t make it work earlier.”

“No worries, Mr. Cameron. Thank you so much for inviting me to tag along with your family at Midsummers. You as well, Mrs. Cameron. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you! And of course,” Rose says, bringing you in for a hug, one you definitely were not expecting.“You’re out in California, aren’t you?”

“Yes, home for the summer.”

“That’s a long way from here,” Ward says. His eyes flicker to Rafe. “Long way from Georgia. Shorter, but still a long way.”

“Dad, c’mon,” Rafe cuts in, and you can feel his hand gripping the back of your dress:

“He’s just stating the obvious, Rafe,” Rose intervenes.

“Yeah, it is far,” you agree. Rafe’s head whips around back to you.

“We’re figuring it out,” he says. To anyone else in the vicinity, he probably sounds confident and self assured. But you know Rafe, and you can look into his eyes and see that he’s not. That if he weren’t in front of his entire family, trying earnestly to impress his father, he’d have said: ‘we’re gonna figure it out, right?’

“I’m sure things will work out the way they’re meant to,” Ward says after a lapse in conversation. “One way or another.”

“Let’s get some photos so we can all enter and the two of you can run off,” Rose says immediately after, giving neither of you the time to say anything else.

You do your best to shake off Ward’s comment as the four of you join up with the Cameron daughters, plus Sarah’s boyfriend, John B. After posing for what felt like hours, the photographer asks you and John B to hop out so they can take some family pictures, the two of you swiping up a couple of Old Fashioneds from the bar. You have to assure Rafe twice that you’ll be okay for ten minutes on your own.

“First time meeting Ward?” Sarah’s boyfriend asks, leaned up against the bar like he owns the place.

“Er—of course not,” you say, like it’s obvious. But of course John B knew nothing about Figure 8 social circles. “Just the first time as Rafe’s girlfriend.”

“Yeah, you look nervous,” he admits, chuckling when your mouth drops open. “It’s not too obvious, I just know because—been in your shoes.”

You should be insulted that the teenager compares his and Sarah’s relationship with yours and Rafe’s, but you know he isn’t being malicious. You see nothing but kindness in his eyes. And it’s nice to have somewhat of a teammate in this situation, the two of you standing by while one of the most powerful families in Kildare poses together in their finest outfits.

Rafe looks hot in his grey suit, especially with the pocket square he’d agonized over for weeks before you gifted him one that was hand sewn from the extra material where your dress had been hemmed. Monogrammed, of course.

You’d decided to go with his initials, since it was going to him after all. But your stomach gets fluttery if you think about the expression on his face when he’d received it, telling you that you should’ve put yours on it instead. “That way everyone will know I’m yours.”

Turning back to John B, you can’t imagine how he must have felt the first time he was invited into all of this. It intimidated even you, and you’re pretty sure John B was friends with the boy who delivered your family’s groceries every week.

“Any tips?”

“You’re way better off than I was, first of all,” he laughs. “But he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one. He cares too much about this appearance of a perfect family to make digs in front of an audience.”

You nod. “That’s actually really good advice, John B.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, kook.” He clinks his glass against yours, promptly throwing the entire drink back as you watch and laugh. “That’s another tip. Drink whenever you can.”

“I’m familiar with that one.”

It's intimidating entering the event, a little after everyone else has arrived. Rafe told you that was by design—the Camerons could never be earlier than fashionably late. You always assumed you and Rafe were raised with similar pedigrees, but you're barely through the doors of the event before you realize that's not entirely true. Up until the last millisecond, Rose is fussing with Sarah and Wheezie's gowns, the older daughter making eye contact with you and rolling her eyes at her step-mother's antics. And Ward brushes Rafe's shoulders off more times than you can count, straightening his bow tie for him repeatedly. Rafe just places his hand on your back, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “You ready?”

You smile up at him, but your nerves are firmly settled in at this point. What you reply isn’t completely true. “Of course.”

—

You take John B’s advice, of course, and choose Kelce as your designated drinking buddy for the night. He was hard to keep up with, but you threw your inhibitions to the wind after you got meeting the Camerons out of the way. Plus, Rafe had more business to attend to than he’d let on, and you were getting pretty bored. Not too long ago he would’ve been right beside the rest of you, causing trouble and borderline embarrassing all of your parents. It was weird to see him walking around, shaking hands and rubbing elbows. He’d invited you into a few conversations, you trying your hardest not to simply watch him in awe.

You’re engaged in some strange dance battle with Kelce when he stacks his drink into yours, both empties at this point. “Your turn to get a round.”

“Boo,” you sigh, throwing your head back. “What d’you want?”

“Surprise me.”

“Aye aye.”

You’re turning on a shaky high heel, and you have to give yourself a little mental pep talk to straighten up. Of course you can, though.

“What can I get you, miss?” the barkeep asks.

“Vodka press, Tito’s, and a Jack and coke. Double Jack. Actually—single. Thanks,” you murmur, trying to fish a ten out of your clutch.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the tip for this one,” a voice says next to you. Ward Cameron is sidling up next to you, sliding a fifty across the counter. Your eyes widen at the tip, trying not to be embarrassed as the bartender sets the drinks down in front of you.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Cameron.”

“Ah, call me Ward.” He flicks his eyes back to the bartender, who quickly pockets the tip and makes himself scarce to give the two of you some privacy. You can’t help but think of John B’s warning: ‘he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one.’ There’s no point in even trying seek out Rafe, you knowing full well you’re expected to stay rooted to the spot until Ward dismisses you. “Having a good time?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “It’s always fun to come back out here for this.”

“So, California to Georgia,” he whistles. “That’s probably a five hour flight, at least.”

“Yeah, um,” you take a minute to make sure your flower crown is perfectly in place. “It’s actually two.”

“Excuse me?”

“Two flights. From his school to mine. Rafe checked, he said there’s nothing direct,” you clarify.

Ward let’s out an indifferent chuckle. “Of course he did.”

Your eyebrow furrows because you don’t know what to say, turning to look at where your drinks are starting to melt. Kelce would be wondering where you are by now if he wasn’t three sheets to the wind. And where the hell was Rafe?

“Y/n, as far as I can tell, you are a nice girl. I just need to make sure we’re on the same page about one thing.”

Your heartbeat that hadn’t really settled since Ward approached you is picking up again, and you really wish Rafe had been the least bit more concerned about where you were at this moment.

“Um, I-I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“I'm don’t know how serious you two are, Y/n, but I know my son. He's clearly very invested in pursuing you.”

Your resolve crumbles a little at that, your heart warming, thinking about Ward noticing something like that.

“But Rafe needs to be committed to finishing this degree so he can come home and start learning the ropes next year. And in four years, Sarah will do the same. Then Louisa after her.”

“Wow, that’s so lucky for you—that they all want to go into the family business,” you praise, not really knowing what else to say. It must be the wrong thing, because Ward just quirks an eyebrow.

“In this family, our business will always come first. Before anything and anyone else. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

You swallow, catching on to where this is going for the first time. You still go for playing dumb.

“Ward, I really don't think I understand.”

“But you do, don't you? You know Rafe. He’s a bit emotional, he’s a ‘feeler,’” Ward says sarcastically, putting it in air quotes. All of the niceties you experienced earlier when you first greeted Rafe’s family were long gone. You can only gather that it was all an act for Rafe’s benefit. But you know the only option is to sit there and take it. “He thinks with his heart, never enough with his head. Sarah, for example—when it’s time for her to cut that pogue lose, which it will be soon enough, I know she will. Whether it’s my decision or her’s. I can count on that, because she’s just like me in that respect; she knows we have to make sacrifices. But Rafe—I don’t think I can make that same assumption about him.”

“Ward, with all due respect, Rafe is really focused on the business.”

“You're correct, and I’ve worked hard to get him there. Which is why I can't have him spending his senior year of college, when he should be buckled down, traveling back and forth from California and getting distracted from his future by some girl.”

“Mr. Cameron, I would never—”

“You know that it’s true. I can tell you’re bright. You come from a great family.” It’s a compliment and an insult all at once. He likes you because of your father’s business and your mother’s social status, not because of what you do for Rafe, or what you have to show for yourself. He continues like it was nothing but the highest praise. “But right now, you are across the country from him, and I can bet he’s determined to make that work, no matter what it takes. Which I obviously can’t have,” Ward sighs. “It’s just not the right time. You can understand that, can't you?”

You nod numbly and pick up your drinks, hoping he’ll get the signal to wrap this up soon. You’re at the point where you can’t listen to this anymore, liquid courage re-flooding your veins.

“I’m not asking you to stay away from him, because you’re both adults,” Ward says, stopping you with a hand on your shoulder. “But I’m asking you to think long and hard about what’s best for the both of you. Rafe already knows what’s expected of him. He’s always known.”

You look back towards the crowd under the gazebo, able to make out John B of all people. He sees you talking to Ward, shooting you the most subtle thumbs up he can muster. He has no idea. You don’t take the chance to nod at him, turning back to the bar.

“Say the two of you let it go for the school year,” Ward bulldozes, taking a step closer to you. “And you end up back here too, great. But even then Rafe’s going to be working all the time, the longest hours he ever will in his life. For the next few years, Y/n. You’re so young—are you really going to tie yourself down to a commitment like that? What about your future?”

In a tone you hope comes across as confident, you say, “I really appreciate your concern, Ward.”

Ward's perfectly white teeth are pulling into an even more perfect grin, and the sight makes you sick.

“Great. I'm glad we had this talk.” He pats you on the back, leaving first before you get the chance to.

You just shuffle through the crowd numbly, not even reacting when someone steps on your toe, taking it all in stride as you seek the comfort of your friends once again.

You were foolish to think Ward would warm up to you immediately, or at all. You had been way too confident in yourself, especially after witnessing the wear working for his father had on Rafe. ‘He’s not an easy man to please.’ How could you be so naive, thinking you could coast by on your charm?

You’re a few feet away when you notice that Topper had joined up with Kelce again, as had your boyfriend. He’s joking with them, amused at the way Topper is clearly almost done tolerating Kelce’s drunken antics, but you stand and watch for a bit as he scans the crowd, gaze flickering toward the bar you’d just been at. You realize he’s looking for you when he finally spots you, his face relaxing as the two of you make eye contact.

“There you are.” He pulls you in close, kissing your forehead. You want to cry. “Where’d you run off to? One of those for me?”

He’s gesturing to the drinks you’re holding, reaching for the darker of the two. But Kelce is swooping in, snatching it out of your hold quickly. “Nope,” he pops the ‘p.’ “This one’s all mine. Sorry Cameron. Thanks Y/n/n.”

Rafe just rolls his eyes at the two of you, eyes lingering on your face when he notices your fallen expression. He sets your other drink down on the high top table you’re all standing next to, pulling you in by your hips. “You okay?”

If you had a choice right now, about how to proceed with telling or not telling Rafe about what had just happened, your instincts compel you to bypass the decision process altogether; you paint a careful smile on your face, shaking your head slightly. “Yeah, all good. Just zoned out for a sec.”

He isn’t convinced. “Tired?”

“Maybe a little. Kinda drunk. Are we leaving soon?” you ask, melting into him. It’s a lot easier to handle his tone of voice when you don’t have to look him directly in the eye.

“I vote yes,” Topper says, gesturing towards Kelce, who is somehow sucking down his new drink at an alarming pace while continuing to dance to the oldies tunes they play at these things. “Like, right now. Rafe, you’re hanging back right?”

You look back up at your boyfriend in confusion. “You’re not coming with us?”

He bite his lip in contemplation, looking around the party. The twinkly lights reflect off of his pupils, making him look starry-eyed as he surveys the crowd. A sea of opportunities to prove himself to his father. Rafe looks resolved when he turns back to you.

“Well... I was gonna stay, wrap up some stuff,” he explains. His eyes flicker across your face, still not pleased with your expression. “But that’s okay, I’m good to go now.”

“No, Rafe,” you say immediately. You take a deep breath, rolling back your shoulders and painting on a smile that comes easily with years of experience at parties like this. “Stay, I’ll go ahead. How long will you be?”

“An hour, tops. Will you take her?” Rafe looks hesitant, still taking your green light anyway, already slowly extracting himself from your hold, Topper rolling his eyes but nodding and beginning to corral Kelce toward the exit.

“I can’t believe you’re making me babysit two of them.”

“Don’t let her drink too much.”

“Hey,” you protest, pushing him in his chest half heartedly. The push barely does anything, only proving your impaired motor skills further. Or that you're dating a tree. “What are you, a cop?”

“I’m your boyfriend, actually.”

“Really? When did that happen?” you decide to play along, picking up your drink again.

“‘Bout a month ago, Y/l/n,” he says softly. He can see right through you, can tell you're putting on a show for all of your friends but you're still not okay. You have to break eye contact.

“Hmm, for some reason I thought you were just this guy from middle school.”

“At least this time nobody spilled on your dress,” he teases half-heartedly, and the memory only hurts you more. “Not sure I’d wanna sacrifice this one.”

“Can you—you guys are the worst. Focus. We need to go now, before Kelce gets his entire family blacklisted from the club. You coming or not, Y/n/n?” Topper begs.

You’re nodding, leaning up to give Rafe one last kiss before you leave. He holds you close to him with a firm hand on your back, voice dropping to a whisper right next to your ear. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

The lump in your throat is growing, but you push through, lowering yourself back down to your feet as soon as you can. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Focus on the rest of your night.”

Rafe still looks unsure, his hand resting on the nape of your neck as he kisses your forehead. “Y/n—”

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” you finally admit. Rafe nods curtly, can tell you’re not going to let him leave with you right now. But he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know that if you pull him away from his responsibilities right after that talk you had with Ward, it’s going to spell disaster for the two of you.

“Just some business stuff, alright?” he assures you. “I’ll see you soon. Forty-five minutes.”

“Promise?” you murmur, fiddling with his pocket square. He smiles down at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Promise. You look so pretty. Half an hour. Now go.”

Topper’s guiding you towards the parking lot with a polite hand on your back, but you have to watch Rafe as you leave. You watch him approach his dad, who gives him a smile and a pat on the back. Rafe preens under his gaze.

But Ward must have been watching you two from afar because his gaze is flickering back to you, and he fixes you with a hard stare. He raises his eyebrows, bringing his drink to his lips. Taking a leisurely sip, hint of a smirk on his face. You can practically hear his thoughts: ‘Rafe chose to stay here with me, with the business, and sent you off with his friends.’ It’s everything in you to not let the tears that have been building on your waterline spill over. But your friend isn’t easily fooled.

“Y’alright, Y/n?” Topper says from beside you, trusting Kelce enough to walk on his own as you all near the parking lot. He moves to follow your gaze but you stop him, quickening your pace towards his gray Jeep. “Did something happen?”

“Ward Cameron happened.”

———

tags: @moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids

#rafe cameron #rafe x y/n #rafe fic #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #obx fanfiction #she writes

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thequibblah · 3 years ago

Note

can i get a director's cut about no regrets coyote xoxoxo

for u bestie? anything. even a longass ramble

literally when i read this series back i'm like wow did someone tell you to write Voicy Fic did someone tell you to enhance the Voice jkhajkkgd

as is my dangerous new tendency i wrote this out of order (every time i admit this im like fuck someone's going to read this and go oh yeah that really tracks kdfhgjkd) so the cokeworth stuff came in pretty late — but one thing i was super excited about with this instalment was opening up the world of the story.

not just in a geographical sense, though that does happen, but in every possible way, i wanted the reality of life tee em to seep in here. like, there's no whirlwind romance (...yet), there are logistics, there's a good deal of guilt like when lily lies to alice. is it REALLY no regrets coyote?? and my favourite avenue to open up was lily's personal life. we already know a little about her ex (and, you'll be so pleased to hear, we will know even more) but i knew digging into her backstory would be so fun and hopefully a little surprising too. maybe it's the nature of this AU or just all jameses, but it's easier for the reader to extrapolate what his life was like pre the start of wtrf than it is for lily (at least, that was the hope).

i wanted her life to be a little less glamorous, HA, partly because we have to believe she'd take the puddlemere job despite very little interest in it (at first). but there's lots of degrees to that. i don't fancy having her wallow in misery for the sake of it, and moreover what i love exploring through these characters isn't, like, backbreakingly sad circumstance but everyday frustration. how pitifully mundane to have parents whose expectations for you are well-meaning but a hefty burden; how ordinary for your squabbles with your sister poke at your insecurities far too often. as much as the reality of lily's childhood was different from (presumed) canon because of this AU, it's also...kind of not. which was so so fun, trying to figure out how growing up around magic with everyone knowing what magic is might still make her feel like an outsider in her home — like she's both a weirdo and someone on a pedestal, and she wants to be neither but but could never just shuck the expectations entirely. (it takes no fine-toothed comb to pick out this element in all my lilys and if you think this is some personal unpacking going on, please refer me to a therapist or don't bring it up at all x)

i feel like this series has thus far been Very James (which is natural because of the setting/premise and also because he has chronic wont shut up disease, and also because i weirdly wrote more from his pov i think which is new for me even tho hes my self insert) and wanted to start to balance that out a little. so keep an eye out for the ways in which canon intersects with lily's life!!!! (i'm dropping hints that sn*pe might come up possibly maybe)

oh that was a fucking digression ok

sidenote everyone knows this is my fundamental thesis of jily: thee partners against the dursleys KJHJKHAJAK

Not only do they bring out the worst in each other, they never play fair. It’s hardly manageable to argue with them when there’s only one of me.

anyway, despite this all being written out of order i wound up pretty happy with the reason why lily kind of loses her head about james the week following her visit to cokeworth. bless her, she's going thru it

oooh so the conversation about the rules tee em (by doja cat dot mp3) was the note on which i started drafting. i know some people were like wow are they really going to talk about it and i deliberated having them put it off for longer, but then i was like no i'm too impatient for that — and realistically speaking, they're at least both responsible enough to know they need to hash it out. (james! responsible!)

and it was v important to me that the conversation was not just a vehicle for james being overwhelmingly james and lily being like well what am i getting into here.......... but also frank and not without its hitches. like, if i had to point to a part of this conversation i think is the most important, it would be right at the start when james is being teasing and lily's like, uh, no, stop that, this is my job. i mean, it's realistic for who she is (and truthfully she hasn't known him long enough to not snap back in that moment) but i as a Person am keenly aware of the power difference between them in terms of leverage with the team, and i think to have them pretend not to realise it would be dishonest.

so much of my favourite parts of james's canon arc have to do with reckoning with privilege, and while not every story has to be That Heavy a necessary angle of the cultural and socioeconomic difference between them (which as i said somewhere else, i actually really like preserving because of the rich, fertile conflict — and opportunity for growth — it affords) is like. unease. i don't think fanfiction has to entirely shy away from big subjects. like, there's certainly a place for Pure Just Smut (which i've written myself hahaha) but i didn't want this to be that (what would all that worldbuilding be for!!!!) and LIFE is uneasy, and life is out here imitating art!!!

and so i wanted to use this opportunity to like. through this device of the team/having to keep things secret reflect back some facets of their personalities both to the reader and to each other. for james that's what he does with power. he's grown up in a way that means he's basically always had it, only he's rarely lorded it over people when not an actual stupid child, and the very humbling experience of having his longest dream stall at age 18 means he's even less likely to do so. this is something lily has to see from him, if she is to trust him.

for lily it's what she does with risk. she's a careful person, she likes plans and control, and when we see her at the start of the story shes basically had both those things chucked out the window. (in short she's at the same point in her arc that james was at when he was 18/post the injury — he's out of the tunnel and she's just in it) it's important for james not just to see that she's not put-together and cold and way, way above him, but also to see when and where she's reckless, and with what. it's like a roundabout way of realising what matters to her (so she'll be careful with it), but also of seeing when she says fuck it because something matters to her too much.

basically for something that is "Not A Relationship" this thing is SOOOOO a test drive for a relationship akjhsjkhjsfgk

another quick point: i was glad to be able to subvert the no-feelings trope, mostly because i didnt think there was anything new i could add to it. (like, they're like no feelings, and then someone catches feelings, duh of course obv [disregard that i just wrote this in something else plz]) there are other rules i am much more excited for them to break >:) im also aware that the like. romantic/sexual/dating politics here are mayyybe suspect for the 70s i think (though i tried not to let too much 21st century thinking seep into me, i have on my to-do to read the ethical slut fOR FANFICTION literally i am a joke) but i hope u guys will forgive me for that xx

oh! ted lasso viewers will also probably have guessed that singer cancelling on charity gala was totally 100% stolen from season 1. it's elton john here just because hes a cool guy <3 and my favourite thing was having literally everyone call him "elton" like theyre all best fucking buds with him, it is HYSTERICAL to me when people do that to celebrities in like a professional capacity.

[obligatory pause in my skim of my own fic to say wow i love sports]

also i caCKLED when i managed to squeeze in that james isn't in the calendar. who out here wa slike wow lilys gonna see his sports illustrated body issue pinup calendar photoshoot lets go only to be suckered by ME

is his non-participation a symptom of the fact that he is not at 100% confidence and yes it is

also i'll own that this, while it's no tripping was for other people, is my single favourite brief instance of my own james characterisation

"...you could live somewhere beautiful and expensive.” I know my answer, but it takes a moment to figure out how to start it. “My cousin, she can’t sit still. This place is just so her parents know what address she comes back to occasionally. I’ve never been like that. All that time in Italy, I—” Wanted to come home, I think but do not say. It’s true; I was so homesick I thought I’d physically be sick because of it sometimes. The worst thing was how much it hurt to be back in England in the offseason. Even seeing a Quidditch advert soured my stomach, like spotting an ex who’d moved on too quick. But I didn’t just want to return home, I wanted to be welcomed back. I wanted my resentment gone. “I couldn’t have gone anywhere else,” I finish lamely. She props her chin in one hand. Her gaze is still fixed on me, curious but not probing. “Plenty of places would’ve gladly had you.” I concede this with a nod, but— “I couldn’t.”

I WANTED MY RESENTMENT GONE!!! I DID SOMETHING WITH THAT AND I WILL NOT BE QUIET ABOUT IT!!!!

ahem

hmm ok and then smut happens

more about lily's workplace experiences later, but i also wanted to emphasise not just how cool tee em alice is, but also how important it is for lily to have her approval and respect. lily of course admires the shit out of alice for her composure and her drive, and learning she was a scholarship kid at a fancy magical school sort of reduces the distance between them — she's like, oh, maybe i could be like her!! that's why alice's apology means quite a bit earlier in this chapter even if it's over something fairly minor, and that's why lily feels so bad about lying to her. she's aware of how big it is to have an older female mentor figure (blah blah blah suze ok u denizen of corporate america) at work and she doesn't want to fuck it up...but she's kind of already fucked it up and only digging herself in deeper. Yes there will be consequences

and another thing i like about the episodic bursts of these chapters is that i get to end on WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT bits all the time and don't feel too terrible about it!

i think i've exhausted everything i had to say and it's definitely more than u were expecting xoxo ly

#clare with no i #ask me #wtrf #director's cuts

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oboevallis · 3 years ago

Text

who is he pt 4

BESTIES!!!!! it’s been tooooooo long ive just had no motivation 🤪 but today we had parade rehearsal and they didn't really need me so i had time to write this, sorry its been so long!!! i hope everyones doing well and staying safe

part 1 part 2 part 3

“Is link your boyfriend?” Scout asked as his mother cut his waffles.

“No, he isn’t. We’re just friends.”

“Why do we spend so much time with him?” In the following weeks of the zoo excursion, the trio had done countless things with one another.

“Just cause.” Amelia quickly said, starting to get nervous, hoping her son wouldn't ask to elaborate.

“Okay.” Scout shrugged, dropping the subject. Eliciting a sigh of relief from his mother. “Is he coming to my softball game tonight?”

“Yeah, I think he is.”

“Oh.”

“Do you not want him to?”

“Well, he works for baseball players, and they’re all really good; what if he thinks I’m a bad player?”

“Oh babe, he won’t think that at all. I’m sure he’ll be very impressed.” It took a lot of begging for Amelia to allow Scout to play softball, but the more she watched her son played, the prouder she was of him. He was a good player for a kid his age.

_______________________________________

“Mom? What are you doing here?” Link asked as he opened his apartment door.

“I came to visit you since you never come to see us.” His mother brought him into a hug as she walked further in.

“A little notice would’ve been nice.” The man sighed, picking up the mini cooler that was on the counter and his sunglasses.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Maureen realized her son was getting prepared to leave. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Uh, yeah, I am.”

“There’s no baseball game today, though.” Maureen had checked before she came to assure her son would have time to spend with her.

“Yeah, I’m just going out; I’ll be back in maybe two hours? Just entertain yourself, and the guest room should be clean if you want to stay in there.” Link pointed across the hall.

“Okay, thanks.” Maureen sadly smiled, slightly offended at her sons' offish behavior.

________________________________________

“You look like your gonna throw up.” Link chuckled as he sat down next to Amelia handing her a water from the cooler.

“I’m just terrified he’s gonna hit his head in just the wrong space and immediately die.” Amelia quickly ranted as she watched her son step up to the base; this was her usual freak-out routine when her son would be playing.

“He’s gonna be just fine, Mia.” Amelia quickly diverted her attention to the man; he hadn’t used the nickname in 5 years. “Sorry I-“

“Shh.” Amelia shushed him as their son hit the ball and start bolting for the next base, standing up when he fell face-first as he tried to reach the base. “Crap.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He grabbed her arm, seating her, when he got up and kept running. “He’s okay.”

“Okay.” Amelia shifted awkwardly, putting her hand on her chest to try and control her breathing. “I hate this.”

“Look at how happy he is, though.” Link loved his son, even if the boy didn’t know he was his father. But that fact broke his heart; to the little boy, he was just a friend.

“He’s getting suspicious.”

“Hmm?” Link hummed, shoving some peanuts in his mouth.

“He asked if we were dating; I said no, obviously.” For some reason, this stung the man. “But he’s smart; he’s gonna realize eventually, so maybe we should talk about telling him.”

“And you're okay with this?” Link asked hopefully.

“He’s gonna find out eventually.” Amelia sighed, picking at her nail. “I mean, I don’t really have a choice; I’ve already messed up too much. Depriving both of you of a relationship from each other.”

“I don’t blame you, not anymore.” Link whispered. “You were protecting him, and yourself. I mean, I’m upset I missed so much, but I get it.” Amelia looked at the man and genuinely smiled.

“Thank you.” The woman whispered with tears in her eyes.

_______________________________________

“Mom, did you see that?” Scout cheered as he ran into his mother’s arms. “I made a home run!”

“I know, I’m so so so proud of you.” Amelia laughed as she spun the boy around.

“You did really great, bud.” Link smiled, patting the boy's back.

“Thanks, Link.” Scout smiled brightly.

“I’ll have to take you to a Mariners game sometime.” Link smiled, thinking about bringing his son to a game and introducing him to the players. “If it’s okay with your mom, of course.”

“We can work something out.” Amelia reluctantly smiled.

“Can we get donuts?” Scout asked, jumping on the balls of his feet.

“Sure.” Amelia laughed at her sons' excitement over donuts, reminding her of how her ex-boyfriend used to act.

“Can Link come?” Scout asked.

“If he wants to.” Amelia smiled at the man, who eagerly nodded.

“I’d love to; donuts are my absolute favorite.” Link smiled, knowing that his son loved his favorite snack as much as he did. “You know they have a Gotham Donuts in Seattle now?”

“I didn’t,” Amelia said, taken aback, thinking back to the New York fiasco, and how she was falling in love with the man.

“Let’s go!!!!” Scout said, starting to get impatient, pulling his mother’s arm.

“Alright, alright.”

________________________________________

“They don’t taste exactly like the ones in New York, but they’re still my favorite.” Link said after he shoved a whole donut in his mouth.

“Everything pastry wise is better in New York. Especially, bagels,” Amelia remarked.

“Yeah, my mom won’t let us ever get bagels. Only when we’re in New York.” Scout laughed, making Link smile. The man recalled one morning when he brought home breakfast bagels for the two, and she refused to eat them.

“She’s very dramatic, huh?” Link smirked, making eye contact with the woman.

“Hey! Am not!” Amelia playfully defended.

“You are, though, mommy.” Scout agreed with the man.

“Alright, I guess just a little bit.” Amelia caved, running the boy's hair through his fingers, noticing the boy's eyes start to droop the longer they sat. “You getting tired, bud?”

“Mmmhmm.” The boy nodded, snuggling into his mother’s side.

“Okay, let’s get you to bed.” Amelia helped scout out of the booth. “Thanks so much, Link.”

“Yeah, of course.” He’d been trying to keep his tears at bay as he watched the interaction between the two. “Great job today!”

“Thanks.” Scout waved as the two walked off.

________________________________________

When Link arrived back at his apartment, he found dinner in the microwave, and his mother fast asleep in the spare bedroom. The bedroom that should be Scout’s. He remembered the night the couple crashed at his apartment, and he took her into the room, and they mapped out how the nursery would be set up. The orthopedic surgeon shook the thought of his head and went into his room, quickly finding his bed and falling asleep.

“Link.” His mother’s soft voice jutting him out of sleep.

“What?” Link asked, somewhat shocked to of been woken up, almost forgetting his mother was even there.

“You left your phone in the kitchen, and someone called Meredith keeps calling.” Maureen raised her eyebrow, trying to determine if this was a possible love interest.

Link took the ringing phone from his mother while trying to contain his eye roll. “What’s up?”

“Don’t freak out.” Meredith’s shaky voice rang in his ears.

“What? What happened?” Link sat up abruptly in his bed, his mother perking up at her sons' nervousness.

“There was a car crash.” Before she could continue, he jumped up from his bed and started to get dressed, trying to calm his shakiness. “Scout is fine. Maggie is with him, and he just has a tiny laceration on his forehead, which is being patched up as we speak?”

“And Amelia?” The man's heart dropped at the hesitation, suddenly regretting everything that had not happened between the two, especially not fighting to be in her and her sons' life.

“She was unconscious when they brought her in; Koracick is bringing her up to CT. He’s the best.” Link could sense the woman’s pain with saying that; he knew she’d prefer her late husband. The one who Amelia would talk so fondly of, and aspire to be.

“And the other person?” The man asked, heading to the door, his mom following him and confiscated his keys. He was about to yell at her until he realized how shaky his hands were; it was probably too dangerous to drive himself.

“Tox screen came back; he was definitely intoxicated. He should be fine, though.” Before he knew what he was doing, he abruptly hung up, regretting that he even asked. Once the pair got to the parking lot, everything seemed to be in slow motion. He remembered his mom asking for directions, and standing outside of the hospital, unable to find the strength to walk in.

#amelia shepherd #amelink #atticus lincoln #baby amelink #greys anatomy #greysanatomy #greys fanfic #greys anatomy fanfic #scout lincoln #Maureen Lincoln #maggie pierce #meredith grey #tw car crash

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marvelousell · 5 years ago

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The Agreement (Part 1.)

Pairing(s): frat boy!fwb!Tom x reader, frat boy!Harrison x reader

Summary: Tom is a typical frat boy, his love for partying, drinks and girls are bigger than his ego. Y/N is a whole different dimension, she keeps her circle small, and even though she knows her best friend Tom is a total douche, she can’t say no to the little deal that was sealed between the two of them.

Word count: 2k

A/N: ahhhh so this is my first series that I’m posting here! I’ve went for the fwb!au but I will do a mob one soon too. It will be full of angst, smut, friendship, love, heartbreak, absolutely everything. I hope that you all will like it, and I would appreciate it if you comment, reblog or send a feedback!🥰

Also my tag list is open for the series!

Warnings: mentions of smut, swearing

It was a Friday night and that meant party all night.

Well not for you.

You weren’t a party girl. Sure you went here and there on some frat parties with your friends, but every Friday? Hell no.

The Friday nights were reserved for a book and a cup of tea.

You were a shy one, you kept your circle small. Tom, Harry, Anna and Amelia.

You were a big bookworm, and hopeless romantic. A great duo for sure.

Sometimes you felt like an ugly duckling. Amelia and Anna were gorgeous and appealing brunettes, just like other college girls, but with a great personality. They were a whole package if you asked me.

You would say that you were an average looking girl. Nothing to special.

You just wanted a guy that would love you for who you are on the inside, not outside.

Too much books, I know.

“Maybe it’s time to head to bed.” You said to yourself, after you caught yourself overthinking, again.

“Jesus Christ.” You sighed, the doorbell waking you up.

It was 20 minutes past midnight, and you were now worried who is at the door at this time.

“Again?” You groaned, rubbing your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but I really needed a break.” Tom spoke, running his palm through his messy hair and massaging his scalp.

You motioned him to the living room, styling your hair that was sticking out everywhere, as much as possible.

“Great, I look like a zombie.” You murmured to yourself as you went to the couch where Tom was seated.

“Want anything to drink or something else?”

“Yeah…something strong?” He said, pushing his back flat on the couch.

“You know that I only have wine here.”

“It will do the job.”

“So..will you tell me what is tonight’s reason for your visit?” Your figure sat next to Tom’s, enjoying a late glass of wine as well.

“She saw me with Stassie today, so she went bonkers.”

Ah. Typical Tom.

Well let’s go back to the start shall we?

If you were honest, there was a lot, but still nothing to tell that wasn’t familiar to everyone.

Tom. Your typical frat boy.

Hot guy, astonishing body, soft curly brown hair followed with the dark brown eyes that had every girl drooling. His charming smile that he flashed to every single girl, covered up his conceited behaviour. Although he was a very charismatic person, he was a bit big-headed.

Did I say a bit? I meant a lot.

Parties were his scene. Tom loved the attention he got from the people almost immediately when he would enter the party place. Girls were basically throwing themselves on him, waiting for him to acknowledge them.

Tom was aware of the effect he had on the ladies, and he sure took advantage of that.

Every weekend there was a new one in his sheets.

He didn’t do feelings, some girls knew, some didn’t. So the morning after he would throw them out of his room half naked, all shattered and with the disgusting feeling that they were used.

He had a reputation, after all he was the most wanted boy out here, everyone’s dream was to become something to him.

Unfortunately no one had succeeded.

Did Tom say she a minute ago? Oh yes.

She was Sophie. And no, she wasn’t his girlfriend, but she sure didn’t think that way.

Sophie was your classic example of a girl that doesn’t understand the word no.

She was one of Tom’s flings, a beautiful, but fake girl. They got together at her 20th birthday party, it was just a one time drunk sex. Tom waited for her to feel asleep after a long session, so he could just go home and get at least a little amount of sleep.

However the next day at college, Sophie was like a limpet.

She didn’t let him breathe, even though Tom explained how he worked.

To be rejected or not interested in her was a unknown term for Sophie.

“Look, we shared a night, had sex and that’s all. It’s how I roll sweetie okay?” He desperately tried to get her off of his back.

“Tommy, I know how you do things, but you can’t lie about the chemistry. We just need to be together. And the sex is amazing.”

And that’s how it started.

Tom was loud and clear, not just with her, but with his friends and other ladies that she isn’t his girl, and never will be.

He really hoped that Sophie would let him be after a while, and she really did, but Tom just couldn’t keep it in his pants.

The Spring party.

Everyone got shit-faced, Tom was super turned on by a sweet brunette that clearly wasn’t interested in his lame flirting.

Sophie came in for a refill in the kitchen, but she was a godsend for Tom at that moment.

“Soph, sweetie mind if I get you a drink?”

“Thought you were clear about your feelings for me Tommy?” She answered, playing with the end of her dress.

“Yeah, yeah..How about I get you that drink, and we could catch up on things, ya know like old times?” He crossed his arms on purpose, flexing his biceps.

“I knew you would come back.” Sophie laughed, wrapping her slim arms around him.

It happened again. And Tom left like the last time, but once again Sophie didn’t get the message.

It became much more harder for him to avoid her, she was all over the place. She ruined his possible hookups, tried to meet his friends, brothers. It was getting on his last nerve, and even though he said that he doesn’t do relationships, she didn’t give up.

Sophie just wanted to be in the spotlight, and Tom was a great opportunity.

“Dear God. I told you that this lifestyle of yours would cost you. You should’ve refrain yourself for one night. Now you have a fake and crazy girl on your back, and no freedom as well.” You said, secretly eyeing him, he was hot you couldn’t lie.

“Thanks for not helping Y/N. Fucking hell I just want her to disappear, she is hundred percent crazy!”

“Why don’t you for once think rationally. Call her, take her for a coffee, tea whatever, sit down. Talk. Like normal people, tell her how things are, use your magic. But be nice and direct, she needs to get it in her head.” You tried your best to help him, after all he was your best friend and crush since preschool.

Stupid choice I know.

“I think so, but I wouldn’t be surprised that she spreads the news that I took her on a ‘date’, not a ‘can you please fuck off’ coffee.” Tom spoke clearly annoyed, filling up his empty glass.

He was tipsy already, and so were you. The wine absolutely did the job.

You were now nervous, your heart thumping against your ribs, the silence wasn’t an issue between the two of you, but tonight something was different.

“Why are you laughing?” You questioned, looking at Tom.

“Nothing darling, just remembered the day at elementary school.”

“Oh God. Which one?”

“You know, when you almost punched Elizabeth when she said I gave her a flower, and that I’m her best friend now.” He looked at you smiling like a child.

“Hey! You couldn’t blame me I loved you, you were my bestie I thought you betrayed me!” You stated, turning your body to his.

“Oh loved?” He grabbed his chest, trying to look hurt, but failing after a loud laugh escaped from his lips.

Your hand slapped his chest playfully, as an answer.

“This wine is crazy, I’m definitely going to consume it more.” He spoke.

“Well you for sure will if Sophie freaks out again.”

“New bottle?” You asked, standing up, your legs wobbly from the alcohol that was running in your system.

“Sure, it’s a long night after all.”

You tried to be as relaxed as you could be, but Tom’s presence tonight didn’t let you be.

Tom was also tense, the wine messed with his mind, he didn’t got laid for days, and the silky white shorts of yours didn’t help him at all.

You were in front of him, opening a bottle, but he just couldn’t control himself. His eyes were glued on your slim legs and tits.

He knew that under those hoodies that you wear on a daily basis was an incredible body.

Tom finded you attractive, absolutely stunning. He thought about you on his bed, whining for him, he really did wanted to have sex with you, but he couldn’t. You were his best friend and Tom didn’t want to hurt you.

But fucking hell. Tonight you were making him go nuts.

“I’m worn out.” You said exhaling the air.

“Live a little Y/N. Your nose is 24/7 in those books, give yourself a break, don’t be so boring.”

“Me boring? Oh excuse me that I don’t have such a dynamic life as yours.” You rolled your eyes.

“Hell yes you are, when was the last time you had sex?”

“What?!” Your cheeks were burning, and you couldn’t believe he asked you that. Sure you two had conversations about sex, but only about his sex life, and by that I mean who he slept with not how and where.

“You heard me, c’mon we’re friends you can tell me everything.”

Stupid Tom.

“Yes we are, but I would love to keep the informations about my sex life to myself.”

“So you’re a virgin?”

“TOM!” You almost chocked on the wine.

“Well?” He smirked, feeling how you got more and more shy from the conversation. God he wanted to fuck you so bad.

“No I’m not a virgin!”

“Then you can tell me when was the last time hm?”

“I don’t remember ok?! Jesus, the last time was probably the week before me and Noah broke up.” Your voice almost a whisper, realising that you were presumably too boring.

Tom just whistled the ‘wow that’s tooo long’ whistle, earning an annoying look from you.

“If it helps you I didn’t bang a girl for like a week, maybe more?” His answer turning into a question.

“Yeah, that helped me a lot, thanks Thomas.”

“Always here to help you.”

You once again slapped him playfully, but with the arm where your glass of wine was, spilling the beverage on his shirt and sweatpants.

Shit.

“Fuck, sorry! I’m drunk, I-shit.” Yes, you were absolutely drunk, because the sober Y/N wouldn’t try to dry Tom’s crotch with her hands.

Tom’s eyes opened widely. The feeling of your palm rubbing his now hard dick, speeded up his breathing.

Your knees were on the couch, and your body extremely close to his. You still didn’t have a clue what you were doing.

“If you’re gonna clean me up like this, I might spill some of this by myself darling.” He groaned, raising the glass in the air.

That was enough to send your mind to reality.

“OH GOD. I’m so sorry, oh my God this is so embarrassing right now.” You tried to sit back down, but Tom’s hands stopped you.

Before you could fall on the purple carpet in your living room, his grip brought you into his chest.

Your hands were on his thorax, his arms on your lower back.

“Shit, am I on his lap right now?! What the fuck is happening?” You thought inside your head. What a great situation to be in.

“You’re making me so hard now Y/N.”

You were speechless. This wasn’t happening.

“I think it’s a big shame that you don’t have any kind of relief after a long day.” He whispered in your ear, breathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo.

“Tom.” Your mind was hazy, you tried your best to resist this, but holy shit you wanted this since forever.

“How about I suggest something to you darling?”

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1kook · 5 years ago

Text

skirt chasers

jjk x (f) reader

summary “Baggy clothes are in, but you wouldn’t know that, Miss I Draw Inspiration From Catholic School Girls.” tags f2l, triple texting king kook, ncampus crush kook who is also the weird gamer boy, the skirt aspect is forgotten towards the end tbh, dumbassery is a disease and we are all affected by it, confessions SO CORNY it could be a 2005 teen romcom warnings smut in the form of: unprotected sex, use of mirrors, mostly heavy petting as foreplay I’m sorry, mentions of Jk’s furry ways as a gag kinda, like an unnecessary amount of swearing wc 7.8k

to make a long story short, i saw this nsfw gif and wrote this entire fic between 2 am and 6 am anyway i actually really like how this turned out!! lmk when u think

Part of the ideology behind the pleated skirt was in hopes that buying a new wardrobe would somehow help you rebrand your image around campus. Truthfully, it was kinda too late for that now; you’d been here going on three years, your friends and anyone with eyes could see that the style of clothing you leaned towards favored comfort over fashion. However, someone—it might’ve been Taehyung—had gone on a drunken spiel the other night concerning the importance of presenting oneself via fashion. It wasn’t aimed at you, but it certainly left you wondering.

Which is how you find yourself shivering to the bone now, lingering around the west quad as you wait for Jungkook to come out of an anatomy lab. He’s at that point in the semester where grades mean nothing and everything to him at the same time, so Namjoon’s commissioned you and your other pals to take turns babysitting him once a week to make sure he gets at least some assignments done.

You don’t know where any of you would be without Kim Namjoon.

Anyway, your legs are fucking cold and if this is what it takes to be known as the fashionably cute girl around campus, you’d rather choke. The imaginary sound of your bones rattling is cut off when Jungkook throws the door nearest you open, his big dopey smile engulfing his face the moment he sees you. He barely acknowledges the gaggle of students that follow after him, all calling out a chorus of goodbyes to him, because unlike you Jungkook was the cute, campus boy crush with his suave looks and comfortable fashion. God, if only you could pull off sweats and mustard-stained Venom shirts like him.

“Lets go,” you yawn, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of your long cardigan. Jungkook jogs over, slinging an arm around your shoulders and nearly knocking you into the emergency telephone you’d been brooding by. “You smell sterile again.”Jungkook grins.

“That’s because I was touching dead people again,” he informs you, too giddy for someone who’d probably fingered the fuck out of a gallbladder twenty minutes ago.

“Ew,” you whine, the sudden urge to shove Jungkook and his dead people germs away from you. He cackles in your face, and you wonder again how he single handedly enthralls half the campus population with a laugh like a seagull.

You’ve barely moved ten feet when Jungkook finally notices your vibrating body, and it’s only because you’re nearly convulsing with shivers at this point. “Woah, what are those,” he exclaims, eyes pointedly eyeing your legs.

You know your bare legs are a rare sight when Jungkook has to resolve to overused memes to refer to them.

“They’re my legs, and they’re fucking freezing,” you calmly reply.

Jungkook seems shocked for only a moment longer, and you almost think he’s gotten over it when he suddenly snorts and scares the shit out of you in the middle of the crosswalk. “Why the fuck are you wearing a skirt in this weather, you dinglehead?”

You shove him, and he stumbles over the curb, but you get the feeling he’d do that without you pushing him. Jungkook was clumsier than Namjoon on his bad days. “I’m trying to be fashionable, you hater,” you huff, not even bothering to say thank you when he pulls open the coffee shop door for you. “I shouldn’t have to explain myself to someone who doesn’t even wear the right size shirt.”

Like always, he’s one step ahead of you and hands the cashier his card before you can even reach for your wallet. Next time. “Baggy clothes are in, but you wouldn’t know that, Miss I Draw Inspiration From Catholic School Girls.”

“For your information I bought this from H&M,” you retort, though you can’t hide the flush that warms your cheeks at his comment. “Also, what's the point of working out your hotbod if you’re just gonna hide it under shirts long enough to be a mini-dress, huh? Riddle me that, Jeon.”

You flinch when your bare thigh touches the cold seat of the booth, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Your skirt is mad short,” he points out, and you kick his shins.

You’ve already got a Google Doc open on your laptop from last night when you and Jimin had been going ham on a psych essay, but you also have a Fashion Nova cart on another window that’s just begging for you to check out.

“Short skirts are just a concept made by men with lingering eyes to demean and belittle women who don’t submit to their every want and need.”

“Oh my god,” he groans, and you watch him muffle a laugh into his palm as he gets his own work out. “Do you think I’m gonna pull the meninist card out on you and call you a slut or something?”

You fake gasp, eyes wide and shocked as you give him your best disappointed face. “Jeon, how could you? I expected better from you.”

This time he does laugh, a dorky sound unlike his witch cackle from earlier, and you finally let a smile slip. Jungkook was funny, too sweet and kind hearted for his own good. A little dumb, but most cute guys were. He’s one of those guys who thinks girls are nice to him out of their own free will, and not because they’re trying to bag the campus hottie.

“Seriously,” he says once he’s pulled his fat anatomical reference book out, stuffed to the brim with worn scientific essays he’d printed out, and pictures he’d taken at every single one of his visits to the cadaver lab. His voice is earnest and genuine when he speaks again. “You can wear whatever you want, I was just curious about the skirt ‘cause you normally wear things past the knee and elbow.”

When he puts it like that you kinda sound surprisingly conservative.

You shrug, tapping away at your computer as if the sight of you in anything other than what he said isn’t really weird. “Just thought I’d try something new. Why, does it look too weird?” Your voice suddenly feels meek, and you’re not sure if your cheeks are warm from the chill outside or from something else.

Jungkook shakes his head, coconut hair bouncing from side to side. “Nah, you look cute,” he says, and then, as if an afterthought, adds, “weirdly sexy, too. Like you belong in a Brazzers video?”

“What the fuck, Jungkook,” you groan, sinking your head into your palms.

“What! You asked for my opinion and I gave you it,” he defends, too casual for someone spewing their unwarranted porn knowledge at you. You urge him to do his homework, drink his coffee, anything besides embarrass you further.

He does, but you don’t miss the goofy way he glances under the table one more time.

The pleated skirt makes it’s return three weeks later, this time accompanied by her best friend, the sheer pantyhose.

“Oh, who’s this sexy schoolgirl?” Taehyung exclaims the moment you step into the diner. Your cheeks flush red when the family beside you send you and your friends a disapproving look.

“That’s what I said!” Jungkook says as he gets up to let you slide into the booth. He has this incessant need to be sitting at the end of the booth just in case nature calls in the middle of dinner and he can’t usher the rest of you out fast enough.

(It almost happened once, and the sight of Jungkook shoving Hoseok flat on his ass had been too funny to forget.)

“Wait a minute, is that why you stopped using EOS and started using the Dove shaving cream?” Chaeyoung interrogates from across you. “So you could show off your sexy model legs?”

“No, Dove is just cheaper,” you reply, trying to sound as aloof as possible but if anyone at this table knew you like the back of their hand, it was definitely Chaeyoung. “Why can’t you guys let me live my best life?”

Taehyung scoffs. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Who the fuck are you?” You snap back, but your level of sass can never seem to match his.

“We all know your ‘best life’ would be spent in those fuzzy Cookie Monster pajama pants and one of Kook’s big ass shirts,” he points out, and you hide behind your menu much to everyone’s amusement.

You whine, “why can’t you all just be supportive besties and tell me I look cute?”

“You look gorgeous, babe,” Chaeyoung assures you, gesturing for you to pass her the sugar for her coffee. “It’s just weird seeing your legs out. Almost weirder than if you randomly pulled your tits out right now.”

Behind her, you can see the same mom from the family glaring at you guys. You lower your head in shame.

“For the record, I’m team skirt, but I wouldn’t be opposed to the other,” Jungkook adds after being silent for so long. Taehyung fist bumps him as you slap your hand over your eyes. At this rate you’d rather just put a paper bag over your head.

“We’re sitting on the same side of the table, so you’re supposed to be on my side!” You groan, and Jungkook shrugs mid-milkshake sip.

“I am!” He splutters once he’s gulped down the thick substance. “I just said I was team skirt, did I not?” His scandalized pout twists into the same sneaky little smile he has whenever Taehyung has convinced him and Jimin to do something stupid. “But I’m also a man, and therefore, a skirt chaser,” he winks.

From the other side of the table Taehyung’s eyes twinkle. “Bro, your mind,” he says in awe. He reaches over to shake Jungkook’s hand as if he’s just presented the table with some riveting discovery in the medical field, and the fucker has the nerve to look smug about it too.

“You guys are so stupid,” Chaeyoung whispers right before the server sets her pancakes down.

“Hey, have you seen Joon’s book? He said he might’ve left it—oh, Jesus, fuck sorry,” Jungkook says before whirling around to face the wall.

You turn from your bent over position by your bed where you’d been rummaging around for a book you coulda sworn you stuffed there last week. Jungkook’s blazing cheeks don’t register with you until you realize your favorite skirt is draping over your rear, giving him a clear view of your dorky star-printed panties.

“Kook,” you stammer, quickly jumping to your feet and brushing your hands over your skirt. “H-How’d you get in?” You ask for lack of greeting.

“Um, uh,” Jungkook stutters, eyes laser focused on some point on your wall. “Chaeyoung let me in.”

“Oh,” you say, and then silence falls over the two of you.

Holy shit this was awkward.

Despite being friends for going on three years, you don’t ever remember there being any stale moments between you and Jungkook. You were the type of friends that just clicked, never having gone through that awkward phase before. But you’d also never seen each other in any state less than presentable. (Being drunk at parties did NOT count, and even then, you’ve always been pretty collected.)

To know that he’s seen your ass, covered or not, tilted your Golden Friendship with Jungkook scale extremely off center. Your fingers twiddle at your sides, not really sure if you should mention what just happened or… what?

He coughs, and you snap back to reality. “Um,” he drawls, still not looking at you but at the socks you’d thrown off the second you got home. “Sorry about that,” he apologizes, voice soft and earnest in that Jungkook™ way that made all the girls swoon. “I should’ve knocked before coming in all rude.” He finally gathers the balls to look you in the eye, and the dude looks like a kicked puppy.

“No,” you wave him off, hands fluttering in front of you because standing like some Macy’s holiday mannequin certainly isn’t making this situation any easier. “It’s okay, the skirt—y’know this wouldn’t happen if I just wore pants,” you say, tacking on a self-deprecating laugh. It’s your turn to look away in shame.

Jungkook jumps at your words. “The skirt’s cute!” He basically shouts and you flinch at the sudden increase in his tone. Then you’re both left looking at each other wide-eyed again as he scrambles to assure you it isn’t your fault. “I like it, and it makes your legs look really nice, so don’t-“ he stutters, as if realizing the meaning in his words, “don’t stop wearing it...” he trails off, cheeks rosy. Your mind goes blank.

“R-Really?” You stutter, surprised at his compliment. It’s not like Jungkook never complimented you—dude couldn’t go fifteen minutes without telling his friends how much he loved them—but for some reason it feels different now.

“Yeah,” he assures you. “Makes you look nice, and um. Pretty.”

“Jeon Jungkook telling me I look pretty? Someone call TigerBeat magazine,” you joke, trying to ease the tension somehow. Your chuckle sounds awfully robotic to your ears, but it makes Jungkook crack a smile and that’s all that matters.

“Shut up. You know I’m not friends with ugly people.”

“Wooow,” you laugh, real this time. “How noble of you,” you retort, and he gives you his best snobby expression possible.

“Ya, you’re welcome,” he teases, and then suddenly remembers what he came for in the first place. “Give me Joon’s planner, I know you’re holding it hostage.”

You roll your eyes, and point over to the notebook on your desk that’s absolutely overflowing with sticky notes and bookmarks. “As if I’d want his nerd diary ruining the good vibes in here.”

“These good vibes smell a lot like Bath and Body Works perfumes, you cheapskate,” Jungkook says as he snatches the book off the surface. He’s at the door again, narrowing you with another faux uppity look when he adds, “this is a Victoria’s Secret Bombshell household.”

“Bombshe—you don’t even live here!” You huff in laughter, ushering him down the hall to the front door. He’s half a foot out the door when he suddenly whirls around, making you take a step back in surprise.

“The stars are cute, but I prefer hearts.”

He slams the door shut behind him so fast, that you almost don’t catch the smirk tacked on at the end.

You were many things, but a liar was not one of them. You couldn’t lie to your parents when you were younger and wanted to sneak out, to your teacher when she asked where your homework was, or to your friends when they asked you who you liked. You couldn’t even lie to yourself.

You’ll admit it, there was a time your eyes had lingered a little longer on Jungkook. When you would spend moments tracing the slope of his jawline, and memorizing the twinkle in his eyes. He was devastatingly handsome, and you would be blind not to see it.

But that was before you became close friends—before game nights at Hoseok’s became a regular staple in your schedule, before your little makeshift picnics in the quad, before you all became Park Jimin’s dedicated fan club (it’s a rotating unit consisting of whoever’s able to go to Jimin’s showcases).

Those fantasies of kissing Jungkook and going on dates were stuffed to the back as you became pals. As you’ve mentioned a million times now, Jungkook was the campus dream boy. He was hardly the skirt chaser he made himself out to be, too sweet and romantic for his own good. Besides, there was no need to be when the skirts flocked to him.

He’d had flings, and even girlfriends, in the time you’ve known him, but he rarely mentioned them to his friends. And even though you pushed that teensy crush aside, you still wondered how Jungkook acted with girls he was interested in, if it was the same he treated you and Chaeyoung, or special on an intimate level a platonic friendship could never be.

It’s the middle of the night when you first get a glimpse.

[1:21 am] jk wyd

[1:21 am] you sleeping , u?

[1:22 am] jk same anyway I finally beat world 8 in super Mario bros

[1:25 am] you omg the 1 w dry bowser?? [1:26 am] you wait u said u wouldn’t play w/o me :/

[1:27 am] jk u suck at Luigi and u know it

[1:30 am] you fuck u [1:31 am] you ok but seriously what do u want I have a test tmrw morning and am pretending to be asleep

[1:32 am] jk damn ok can’t I just talk to my friend about my successes [1:33 am] jk but if u must know

[1:33 am] you I must

There’s a lull in messages for a while, and you decide you should finally actually go to sleep, dabbing some spot ointment onto your skin before hopping in bed. You turned off the overhead light long ago, so the only light illuminating you now is the lamp by your bedside. You tap your phone once again right as Jungkook sends another message.

[1:40 am] jk you looked really pretty today

Oh. Your entire body pauses for a moment to process the sudden message, cheeks slowly heating up. You roll your lips in to stop the squeal that threatens to rip itself out of your throat, scrambling for something to type. But it’s the first time he’s randomly thrown something like this on you, and your brain feels like that episode of Spongebob when everything’s on fire.

Before you can send the jumbled letters you’d convinced yourself was acceptable, your phone vibrates with another alert.

[1:42 am] jk I know its weird to say that but I gotta make sure someone told u at least once today

Your heart flutters at the explanation, and you have to slap a hand over your face to get rid of the goody smile that overtakes your features. This time, you’re a little less thrown off and quickly tap out a reply before he can say anything else.

[13:43 am] you thanks kook :) was it the red skirt lol

You’d been experimenting with different skirts lately, quickly growing bored of the black pleated skirt you’d originally worn. Your latest trip to the mall had you coming home with a variety of colors and styles, like the dark red denim one you’d worn today.

[1:45 am] jk no!!!! [1:45 am] jk maybe… [1:46 am] jk ok yes you looked gorgeous

The tiny letters blink back at you, and you set your phone down for a second to smile stupidly at your dark ceiling. You only let yourself wildly kick your legs around for five seconds because Chaeyoung was asleep next door.

[1:47 am] you haha well I’ll make sure to wear it again for u :)

It’s only after you’ve sent the message that the last two words have you stuffing your face into your pillow to hide your embarrassment. Girl, what the fuck!!!

Oh my god, he could’ve just been friendly and polite this whole time. Jimin had said the skirt looked cute on you as well, and you hadn’t responded like this. All it took was a few compliments from Jungkook to have you dopily acting like a clown for his affections.

Before you can scold yourself anymore, your phone vibrates and you have to sit up to retrieve it from where you’d tossed it across the bed.

[1:50 am] jk for me? I’m honored :) [1:51 am] jk anyway get some rest before ur exam!!! [1:51 am] jk night cutie

You squeal, and Chaeyoung kicks your shared wall.

You liked to clown Seokjin for being the president of his fraternity. He was already a stereotypical frat boy, so it wasn’t that hard anyway; he came from money, was ridiculously gorgeous, and played on your school’s soccer team. However, behind that facade he liked to put up, he, too, was infected by the dumbass disease.

“Wait, are those your legs?” He says the moment you step into his frat party. Normally, he wasn’t prone to the same stupid questions that regularly plagued Taehyung and Jungkook (sometimes Namjoon, but everyone had their weak moments), so you deduce that he probably had some alcohol in his system to openly be asking you such a question.

“Yes, now give me whatever’s in that cup,” you brush off, not bothering to stick around to watch him not-so-subtly grope Chaeyoung as she enters behind you. You trust him enough to hand you a drink that hasn’t been roofied, but you’re also aware that Jin drinks like he’s trying to die three times over. One sip has your face scrunching up at the sour bitterness of it all.

There’s a loud cackle of a laugh that you’d recognize anywhere, and you turn to find Jungkook leaning against the staircase banister looking like a wet dream. “Someone lost on their way to Weenie Hut Jr?” he sneers, cheeks a nice rosy color. You flick his forehead.

You don’t bother gracing him with a reply, instead shuffling over so you’re stood side by side observing the party before you. Yoongi’s here, which is an even weirder sight than your legs being out, so you wonder why no one is talking about that. But then you see the way he’s trailing after Seokjin’s cat, Jalapeño, and realize he’s only here to make sure no one hurts her (she’s more important than anyone else here). You honor his service with another sip of Jin’s whatever the fuck mix.

“Wow, getting braver every day, huh?” Jungkook teases after giving you a very intense once over. He’s referring to the skirt you’re wearing, a little black circle skirt that flows around you like the first one you’d worn a couple months ago. Call it a tribute to the one that started it all. You’ve definitely experimented with lengths a little more, the one you’re wearing now brushing just barely below your ass. Appropriate for the frat party, but definitely not for your theology elective.

You hum, stepping aside as a couple makes their way up the stairs. You’re tempted to go tattle on them to Seokjin, but decide against it when you feel Jungkook’s fingers brush against your thigh.

He grins at the surprised little gasp you let out. “Pretty,” he chuckles, deep and seductive in a way you’ve never seen before. You were used to giggly Jungkook, and Jungkook who laughs like the stepmom from Cinderella, but you’d never seen this one before, the Jungkook who looked and laughed like he was straight out of a Calvin Klein campaign.

You giggle like a teenager at his compliment, unsure of what else to do so you settle on chugging Jin’s death drink. You only get a good three gulps in before Jungkook’s tugging the plastic cup away from you and setting it down on the nearest flat surface. “Don’t get all drunk on me now,” he jokes, eyes the teensiest bit glassy. He doesn’t look drunk, and he’s certainly not acting drunk. He might be a little tipsy, you think, because a completely sober Jungkook would never have the balls to tug you closer by the waist like this one does.

Your hands fall flat on his chest, warm beneath the material of his shirt. Not one of his super baggy ones today, but still a bit loose where it could hug his build. “What happened to the little red one? You said you’d wear it for me…” he questions, lips playfully pushing out into a pout.

You struggle to meet his gaze, focusing on the mole beneath his lip instead. “I, um, haven’t got around to washing it,” you stutter, absentmindedly shifting your weight from side to side.

“Really?” Jungkook presses, sounding like he doesn’t believe you at all. After a moment in which he ducks down to catch your gaze, he seems to accept. “That’s fine. This one’s cuter anyway.”

His words are emphasized by his fingers, tracing along the edge of your skirt while purposefully making sure to graze your skin. You shiver, unconsciously arching your chest into him. It’s only afterwards that you realize when Jungkook smirks in triumph. “Easy access too,” he murmurs, and your heart leaps in your chest.

“Jeon,” you whisper, hyper aware of all the people in this house right now. You’re standing at a point where everyone walks by, and the idea of Jungkook groping you in front of these people, some of which are friends, seems horrifying. “People can see.”

Jungkook’s Cheshire smile grows even wider, and you muffle a yelp when his hand slips beneath your skirt to grope your ass. “Since when were you shy?” He says, voice soft and lilting over the hum of whatever music is playing now. “Weren’t shy when you had your ass in the air that one day in your room.”

Your cheeks burn at the memory, but your core surges with a newfound heat at his wandering hands and teasing words. “Remember?”

You nod, tucking your head against his neck in a last ditch effort to hide your embarrassment. From here, your senses are bombarded with Jungkook and only Jungkook.

You feel him let out a long sigh. “Been thinking about you since,” he admits. “Nah, even before that. When you wore my shirt that one day after our balloon fight in the west quad.”

Your heart thunders at his sudden confession. The balloon fight in question had been a little over a year ago, a rallying effort from your friend group to cheer Taehyung up after an exam. After soaking each other to the bone with water guns and balloons, Jungkook had let you wear one of his stupidly big shirts home. So you’d ditched your usual jeans and shirt, wearing his shirt like a dress all the way home.

The fact Jungkook’s been thinking about you since then makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

“Every time you wear these little skirts, I think of that day. You, in my clothes, looking so soft and warm. Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you do to me.”

You glance around, and your soul almost leaves your body when you make direct eye contact with Yoongi holding Jalapeño across the room. He gives you that Yoongi look, the whatever you’re doing is weird but I won’t say anything because I don’t care look, and that’s your signal to stumble your way upstairs before Seokjin can see you two and scold you.

You’re not sure who’s room you end up, just that it has one and a half bunk beds in it, so you don’t hesitate to push Jungkook down onto the half. He plops down like a little cherub, all sweet smiles until you see the way his pants strain at the crotch. Of fuck, this is happening, you think as you climb onto his lap.

His lips envelope yours the second you’re in his arms. You’re not usually one to give into those John Green cliches, but everything about being in Jungkook’s embrace feels so right. Like you belong there, or whatever.

He’s a good ass kisser, but you shouldn’t be surprised. Jungkook was good at everything he did—such was a known fact. But he still kisses you like he’s trying to prove something, like he wants you to melt into him, and he succeeds. His mouth moves against yours, tongue sneaking it’s way past your lips until it’s inside yours, and you’re swapping spit. His breath hot, but you imagine yours is as well because just making out with Jungkook has your body temperature hotter than the inside of a sauna.

“Jungkook,” you groan when he pulls away, desperate to feel his mouth on yours again. He smiles, lips slick and cherried as he drops his hands to your waist.

“‘M right here,” he assures you, pressing a few pecks to your mouth before trailing his lips down your neck, deliciously licking and kissing every inch. You let out a choked moan, and you can feel his smile press against your skin. “Cute,” he croons.

“More,” you beg, fingers curling themselves into his hair. It’s gonna way longer these last few months, the front pieces almost brushing the tip of his nose. He looks sexy as fuck.

“At least let me stretch you out first,” he teases, face too cute for someone about to fuck your brains out. You huff in annoyance, snatching his hand away from its path to your panties.

“No,” you whine, and then shuffle forward to grind your center onto him. Jungkook groans, jaw tight as he watches you. “Just fuck me, Jungkook.”

His eyes roll back at a particular roll of your hips. “I-It’ll hurt, though,” he tries to reason, but his hands are already hiking up the back of your skirt.

“Make it hurt,” you mumble, so caught up in the moment that your eyes bulge out when he suddenly lifts you to your feet. “What’s wrong?” You huff in dismay, lower lip trembling at the thought of him changing his mind. He lets out an airy chuckle.

“Turn around for me, doll,” he softly demands, and not a single inch of you feels the need to go against him.

You’re met with the sight of your own expression, staring back at you from the closet’s mirrored sliding doors. It’s a little dark in the room, most of the light coming from a desk lamp on the other side of the room that had been on when you first broke in with Jungkook.

“So pretty,” Jungkook praises from behind you, and you watch in the glass as two firm hands snake around your waist, slowly easing you back into his lap. In the seconds you were distracted by yourself, he’d unbuckled the front of his jeans, the cotton fabric of his boxers brushing against your ass. “Gonna fuck yourself on my cock, baby?”

You nod, unsure of what to do with your hands. You needn’t worry any longer, your body naturally guiding you through the motions, until one hand grabs his thigh and the other grapples for the bedside drawer next to you. His fingers trace around your waist, hiking your skirt up to—only to reveal a pair of white undies with red hearts. Jungkook’s chuckle against your ear makes you clench your legs together. “Fuck, it’s like you knew this would happen,” he murmurs, and you can’t take your eyes off the mirror as you watch his fingers trace over your covered mound. “Did you?” He asks, breath fanning over your ear.

“N-no,” you gasp, hips jumping when he presses a lone finger to where your clit would be had your girly panties not obstructed the way. You’re embarrassingly wet just from kissing Jungkook, and his playful fingers only worsen your state. “Please hurry, Kook,” you plead, grinding back against his engorged cock.

“You sure?” He checks, and your bobble head nods have him muffling more laughter into your shoulder. “If you say so, baby.”

He lifts you up just the slightest bit to tug his cock out of its confines, and this is the only instance where you wish you weren’t looking at the mirror. His fingers dance along your skin again, tugging your panties to the side.

Screw it, just do it, you say to yourself before sinking down on his cock in one go. “Oh fuck,” you cry, head lolling back to rest against his shoulder at the sudden intrusion.

“Holy shit,” he sighs into your hair, one hand circling to the front of your waist, while the other creeps upwards to rub at where he knows your nipple is. If he were to pull your shirt and bra away, he’d see how rock hard your nipples were right now. “Relax for me, doll, I promise it’ll feel better if you relax.”

You nod, eyes squeezed shut as your body slowly assimilated to the feeling of being stuffed full. God, he felt good inside you. Fit every crevice of you pussy like he was made for you. “Jungkook,” you moan, and he hums in response. “You feel so f-fuckin good,” you babble, swiveling your hips much to both your pleasures. “Can feel you everywhere.”

He presses a kiss to your scalp. “Can you move for me, baby?” He questions, dropping his hands to your waist before slowly pushing you up so you’re not flopped against him like a rag doll. “Wanna see you bounce on my cock. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

You nod eagerly, desperate to show Jungkook how good you ride dick. You muster up the strength to sit up, one hand right around his thigh again, but this time the other one clamps down over his hand on your waist. “Good girl,” Jungkook praises, giving your hips a tight squeeze.

It’s like you thrive off Jungkook’s compliments, because soon enough you’re riding him like your life depends on it.

It’s a rhythm of pushing yourself over and over, thighs tense from the effort it takes to pull yourself away from his cock until only his tip breaches you, before dropping back down. You can’t entirely take the credit, because Jungkook’s arms are there, lifting you up before pushing you back down. Truthfully, he’s probably still doing most of the work in fucking you with the way you see his arms flexing in the mirror.

“Lemme hear you, doll,” Jungkook huffs, and you don’t hesitate to moan for him. It feels overwhelmingly good, his hands tight on your waist as they move you up and down, the material of your skirt bunched up between his fingers. What you’d give to feel them inside you some day, a day in which you’re not dying to feel his cock inside of you. “That’s it,” he grunts, and doesn’t even complain when your legs begin slowing down.

He picks up the slack for you, thrusting his hips up into you like you’re just some toy for him to use and discard. But the soft praises slipping past his lips assure you you are anything but. “F-fuck,” you whine, forcing yourself above and beyond as you begin to feel that familiar coil of heat grow tighter in your abdomen. “Your cock’s s-so f-fucking big!” You cry, and one look at the mirror let’s you know you look as stupid and fucked-out as you sound.

“Really?” Jungkook smirks, drilling into you like his life depends on it. There’s an embarrassingly growing stain on the front of your panties that you catch sight of in the mirror, and part of you wants to clench your legs shut so he doesn’t see. But it seems to do it for Jungkook, and he starts rambling about that next. “Look at you. Fuck. You’re ruining your cute little panties. Absolutely fucking soaking them with hot wet you are. I get you that wet, doll?”

You squeal at a particular thrust of his hips, feeling his cock so deep in you that your eyes momentarily go cross eyed. “Yes, yes!” You agree, bouncing yourself with a renewed vigor.

The answers please Jungkook, and he rolls forward until he’s pressing his tip faintly against your cervix, and your body damn near leaves your soul. “O-oh fuck!” You scream, body turning into jelly as your orgasm has you spurting hot cum into your panties and over his cock.

“Pretty even when you come,” Jungkook huffs, hips rocking up into yours for a few more minutes until he eventually comes when you roll your hips backwards. “Holy fucking shit,” he moans, finally releasing your skirt from the death grip he had on it.

You watch it flutter back into place around you, and you almost look like two platonic friends sitting together, but then Jungkook shifts inside you and your body convulses from the oversensitivity.

“Wait, you and Jeon finally fucked?!” Chaeyoung exclaims halfway through breakfast, which she had so lovingly prepared at three in the afternoon. “When? Is that why you made us get waxed last week?”

“No!” You flush, shoving another forkful of burnt scrambled eggs into your mouth. “We waxed our coochies before that, but I didn’t know we were gonna fuck.”

Chaeyoung blinks. She’s stupid pretty even with avacado spread on her cheek. “So do you have like a seventh sense on when to get your kitty trimmed?”

“What? No,” You scoff. “Seventh? What’s my sixth?”

“Knowing the exact moment Taehyung’s gonna throw up at a party.”

You accept. “Anyway, we just… I don’t know. It was at Seokjin’s third birthday bash last weekend.” She nods like she remembers anything besides sucking face with him all night. “We were talking and then suddenly we were upstairs and...” you trail off, glancing at your fake collection of succulents lining the kitchen window.

“Was he good?” She interrogates.

You flop back onto your chair dramatically. “Chae. He was so good,” you whine, and she slaps your arm in enthusiasm. “He made me ride him facing a mirror,” you spill.

Chaeyoung squeals. “Bitch!! Here I was thinking Jeon Jungkook was the poster boy of vanilla sex,” she pauses. “I mean, still pretty vanilla compared to the time Seokjin stuck it in my—“

You gag and she rolls her eyes. “Have you been talking since?”

This is the part where things get awkward, and Chaeyoung immediately senses as much. “Oh, honey,” she frowns, eyes furrowed in worry.

“He walked me home,” you mumble, toying with the tablecloth ends. “Kissed me on the doorstep and all, but besides a few texts, I haven’t seen him around,” you lamely finish. It’s been a week.

“Ugh, men are trash,” she spits, turning in her seat to play with your hair. “I swear if I see him on campus I’ll rock his shit. My older brother used to practice WWE moves on me, I could easily smash him through a table.”

“WWE wrestling is staged, Chae,” you point out. Chaeyoung was about ten thousand times more experienced when it came to men and their behaviors. She’s been played but also has played, so her reaction to you telling her about Jungkook is all you need to hear.

In all the scenarios you’ve ever had about Jungkook, him randomly ghosting you had never even been a possibility. The Jungkook from your imaginary universes either just dumped you, or awkwardly friendzoned you. But completely disappearing on you? Now that was some John Greene shit.

You’ve gone long periods of time without seeing him, like your freshman year you saw him one time in March. But even then he’d made sure to keep in contact with you, randomly blowing up your phone with Cup Pong and 8Ball requests.

He sent you two texts this whole week, and both of them had been to cancel your homework sessions.

You almost couldn’t believe you were living this life. The men are trash, love isn’t real, heartbreak can possibly cause death life. Forget John Green, your life had taken an unexpected Shakespearean turn.

“Oh,” you say the moment you step into Taehyung and Jungkook’s apartment, surprised at the fact Jungkook is there despite the fact he, y’know, lives there. In retrospect, you should have seen this coming when Tae had asked you over to help him decorate a poster for Jin’s next game. He’s never been to a single soccer match in his life. “Is Tae here?” You ask, looking every part the stupid bitch.

Jungkook’s cheeks had flushed the moment he opened the door. “No…” he answers, glances at the shoe rack behind the door as if to make sure. “Were you supposed to meet him?” Well no shit.

“Uhh, yeah,” you say, and it’s even more awkward than the time he saw your star undies. Granted, now he’s become very familiar with your underwear and what’s hidden beneath it. You would think such an encounter would bring you two closer. “I’ll just come back another time.”

“Do you wanna come in?” He blurts out before you can even turn away. You flinch at the sudden intensity of his voice, and then both of you are left staring at each other like cringey high schoolers. “I cut some cucumber slices with lime and that one spice you like.”

“Taíjn?” You confirm, and he nods. “I mean...sure, if it’s not a bother.”

Usually when you and Jungkook hung out at his place, you’d throw your bag across the room and flop onto the ugly armchair the moment you stepped in. Now, you’re awkwardly hovering by the armrest of the sofa, like this is your first time here.

Jungkook disappears into the kitchen to, you assume, get the cucumber slices. He comes back empty handed, and with a heavy heart. “I lied. There’s no Tajín,” he confesses, and you rush to tell him it’s okay but he beats you to it. “There’s no cucumber slices either. I just needed to get you inside to talk to you.”

“You act like I needed to be lured in, Jungkook,” you say, forcing a tight smile on your face. Jungkook visibly deflates at your tone.

“No, this isn’t right,” he huffs, dramatically throwing himself onto the couch. You jump at the loud groan he releases from his position, which is face stuffed into the cushion.

“You...okay?” You tentatively ask, clutching your bag even closer to your side. Jungkook shakes his head no against the couch. “Should I call Namjoon over?”

He sits up so fast you worry he’ll get whiplash. “I have a confession to make,” he informs you, doe eyes wide and serious.

Your brain processes for a minute before slowly responding. “Okay…”

At your response he jumps to his feet. “This may come as a shock, but I’m not a womanizer.”

You blink.

“When have you ever been a womanizer, Jeon?!” You nearly exclaim when you mull over his absurd proclamation. “Are there people who actually think that?”

“I think that people think that,” he stresses to you, running a hand through his hair. “Look. I don’t mean to brag, but I’m really nice and cool, and sometimes people think that means I’m flirting with them.” Valid point. “But I’m not, because frankly I’m terrible at shooting my shot.”

The fact he’s actually admitted it out loud leaves him devastated, and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Finally, something Jeon Jungkook isn’t good at.

“What lead you to that conclusion?” You carefully press on.

“Because,” he sighs, dropping back down onto the couch, except this time he’s sitting like a normal person. You sit beside him, close enough to the edge that you can just spring yourself out the door if need be.

“There’s this girl I like,” your heart pangs, even though the logical side of you can more or less guess where this is going. You’re stupid, but not that stupid. “She’s amazing, like everything about her makes me like her. God, she’s so cool, like everyone wants to be her friend, even though she sucks at Super Smash Bros., and burns her ear on a straightener at least once a month. But she’s funny and sweet, and makes me wanna join a clown troupe just to hear her laugh. And she looks gorgeous in skirts, and the way she rides dic—“

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” you interrupt, glancing at the coffee table decorated with Jungkook’s anatomy books, because you don’t want to look at the big dopey grin on his face as he talks about you and your dick riding abilities.

Jungkook grins, this much you can tell from your peripheral, before it drops into a frown. “Whole point is, she’s cool as fuck. And I… I think I might love her,” he admits, and you whip around to face him. His cheeks are as red as Taehyung’s current hair dye, which is to say they’re as red as a fire truck. You get th feeling you're mirroring his expression.

The silence following his confession seems to drag on an eternity, but truthfully, you and Jungkook both have the patience of a soccer mom of three, so he jumps to fill the spaces between you. “And like, I just wanna kiss her and hold her and watch her eat and cuddle her to sleep and hold her hand and buy her gifts, and I think I would die for her?—”

“Okay chill, Romeo,” you scramble to cut off that train of thought. Jungkook’s looking at you like you were the creative director behind Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker and the trailer released two minutes ago. It’s a weird reference but coming from Jungkook, it means a lot.

You don’t know what to say, but Jungkook beats you to it anyway. “There’s this girl I like,” he repeats, and your heart does nearly implode on itself when he reaches over to clutch your hand in his. Your hands are sweaty and fidgety from his confession, but so are Jungkook’s. “How do I tell her I like her?”

You gulp, before reaching over to smack at his bicep much to both your surprise. “Jeon Jungkook! How’re you gonna give me the best fucking of my life and then ghost me for a week, because you’re too much of a pussy to tell me you like me!” You almost want to cry, and you almost do when he wraps you in his arms with a delighted, warm laugh rumbling through his whole body. “You suck,” you huff, and sniffle once, and only once.

“Thank fuck,” he sighs in relief. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you friendzoned me.”

“The friendzone—“

“—is a made up concept created by men who feel like they’re entitled to women and their feelings, I know,” he huffs and you laugh. You push yourself away from his chest to meet his gaze, stretching up to capture his lips in a sweet kiss that quickly turns naughty when you feel the flex of muscles beneath your hands.

“Ugh, you beefcake.”

“I wish,” he snorts, tugging you back into his chest as he flops down onto the couch. You snuggle into him, the position all too comfortable in your skirt. The only reason you’re reminded of it is because Jungkook traces his fingers along the edge of the material. “You asked me why I workout out but hide in big clothes, and the truth is its so I can beat up any meninist douchebag that tries to slander my girl in her thot skirts.”

You sputter. “My thot skirts—you asshole! All my skirts are of appropriate length,” you defend, pinching his side and winning a giggle for your efforts. “That doesn’t even explain the baggy clothes part either.”

“Shh, your thot skirt is tempting me.”

“He made you dress up as a what now?!” Chaeyoung exclaims, fork clattering loudly against her plate as everyone in the diner turns to look at you two. You try desperately to quiet her, but the damage is done and even the server whose long since become familiar with your antics looks disgusted.

“Oh my god,” Chaeyoung sighs, her concern on everything but this public humiliation. “I knew it. I told you he got along too well with Jalapeño, remember?”

[ NOW WITH A DRABBLE WOW!!! ]

#kpopwonderlandtag #thekpopnetwork #jjk♡#jungkook smut #jjk smut #jeongguk smut #bts smut #jeon jeongguk #mine

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cupcakemolotov · 4 years ago

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Feel Like Home

Had a really strange dream last night and @goldcaught talked me into giving it some shape and writing this out. Just a quick little thing, will expand on it if I have time/the muse for it. Not really a huge number of warnings for this one. Does reference past potential sex but no details. Just magical shenanigans and Bonnie and Caroline being besties.

Caroline bit her lip, studying Bonnie’ face. Her best friend rarely wore such a worried expression anymore, but in this case she couldn’t blame her. In less than forty-eight hours, she’d dropped whatever her witchy business had been, gotten a cat sitter, and hauled butt to New York City.

And all because Caroline had called her with an SOS.

Fingers curling into her palms, she glanced around the high rise apartment they were currently camped out in. The space was gorgeous, all warm wood and wide open windows with lush furniture that invited you to linger. The floor was saved from being chilly thanks to a collection of gorgeous rugs, the art work on the walls tasteful and heart-breakingly gorgeous. The bathroom had been copy/pasted directly from her dreams and the tub was gorgeous and everything she wanted in life.

It was an apartment that she coveted, and one that was millions and millions of dollars outside of her price range. Just the view of New York City alone was a multi-million dollar addition. But her favorite fall jacket had been hanging in the closet, she’d found her awesome, weekend date to-go bag on the side of the bed. It had included a change of clothes and kick ass underwear. She felt safe here, welcome, and had absolutely no memory of how she’d gotten here or whose cologne lingered on the sheets.

“Okay,” Bonnie said finally, rubbing the wrinkle line between her eyebrows tiredly. “I’m really, really glad you called.”

Caroline eyed her doubtfully. “You don’t look happy.”

Bonnie waved her hand. “That’s not about you. Not entirely, at least.”

“Well, I’m not sure who else I’m going to call when I wake up in the middle of supernatural shenanigans, but I’m glad I called you too.” Taking a deep breath, Caroline looked at her beseechingly and tried not to panic. “How did I get here? I couldn’t find any texts explaining and we both know I'm a serial texter. How did I not send you fifty messages about my underwear choices for my date? My shoes? My dress? There isn’t a single hair check selfie on my phone, Bon. That’s impossible. I don’t just let someone talk me into visiting New York without at least a pro/con list two pages long.”

“Oh, I am aware,” Bonnie muttered. Running a hand down her face, she grimaced. “You can look at my phone for evidence later. But, Caroline. You’ve lived in New York for six months. You have a super cute closet for an apartment. I have pictures of that to prove it.”

“I…” her words died at the sincerity on Bonnie’s face. Blowing out a breath, because Bonnie Bennett would never lie about something like this, she cast her thoughts back and slowly nodded, relief heady. “Okay. Yeah. This spring. I remember packing my things in my rental and mom looking both relieved and tired.”

“Yeah, she’s wanted you to spread your wings for a few years. After the bout with cancer, you were being stubborn.” A lifted brow. “It was such a surprise. You. Being stubborn.”

Caroline gave her a disapproving look. “Do you have to say that like it's a bad thing?”

A small smile touched the edge of Bonnie’s mouth. “I guess it depends on what you are being stubborn about. Do you remember that big fancy PR party you were being forced to go to about six week ago?”

“No,” the word was said with great reluctance. “I feel like I should though.”

“Oh, you definitely should.” Bonnie drawled. “I didn’t attend and I know a great deal more about it than I would like. Clothes, shoes, departmental involvement and the dick from accounting who spends way too much time looking at your ass. Your boss, who insisted you go because she keeps thinking if she plays nice you’ll one day introduce her to your ex-werewolf boyfriend.”

Caroline did not want to talk about Tyler. “Your point, Bon?”

“You don’t remember Klaus.”

The name tugged something in her chest, a sense of awareness she couldn’t name, and Caroline frowned in concentration. “Who is Klaus?”

“The Black Dragon of New York.” At Caroline’s blank expression Bonnie sighed heavily. “Well, that confirms some of it at least.”

“Bonnie…”

“You moved to New York six months ago with a job offer for a Public Relations firm that specializes in supernatural reputations.” Her lips twisted in something like an amused grimace. “Your… history with witches and werewolves left you overqualified for the entry level position, as did your original internship in Chicago.”

Caroline pursed her lips. “By overqualified, that better be a comment on my personal awesomeness and not that they hired me because I dated a werewolf. That would have annoyed me. Why didn’t I remember that? I should have remembered that.”

“Because you don’t remember Klaus.”

Which made absolutely no sense to Caroline.

“Do I need to open wine? There was quite a collection that I am going to have no qualms drinking if that would absolutely help me understand the words you are saying.” Caroline threw her arms open wide. “I’m sure whoever lives here can afford it.”

“Spirits, if I thought it would help, I’d have brought tequila.” Bonnie looked heavenward and slouched backwards, something like gallows humor darkening her face. “Klaus Mikaelson is a dragon. A black dragon, specifically. He has been on top of the food chain for centuries, Caroline. He picked New York as his seat of power this century because he was bored in Europe. When he got here, he ate half the witch council, flattened three werewolf tribes, and casually made alliances with the necromages as if they were cute but annoying pets. He owns New York. He rules North America with a very, very short temper. Hell, I think he built this tower to his exact specifications because he now lives exactly one foot higher than every other building in New York. You would not believe how that man likes to lord over people.”

Caroline tried to recall the differences in dragon color and why that might be important and came up blank. “You’d think I’d know who he was with my job description,” she said faintly. “That seems like the kind of detail I would pick up on. And did you say this tower?”

Was there a floor above her? She hadn’t really spent a lot of time looking out the windows. She should have located the elevator and checked to see if it listed the number of floors. Figure out which one she was on. Something to do later then.

“This tower. But more importantly, you’d probably have remembered that you tossed your drink in his face six weeks ago at said PR Party.” Bonnie’s expression grew even more pained. “I’m told the flowers he sent you after that were very nice.”

Caroline tried to suck in air. “I did what now?”

Bonnie nodded, motioning with her hand towards the bedroom. “Two days ago, you went on what I’m pretty sure was your third date. And you apparently stayed over.”

Eyes widening comically, Caroline glanced around the apartment again, trying to comprehend was she was seeing with new eyes. “Bonnie Bennett, I would remember fucking a dragon.”

Bonnie snorted, slapping a hand over her mouth as she visibly struggled not to laugh. Her shoulders shook, breath escaping in faint, choking noises.

“This is not funny,” Caroline rasped, launching to her feet. Meeting her best friends watering eyes, she waved her hands dramatically around them. “You are telling me that I have been sleeping in Klaus Mikaelson’s bed for at least two days? And no one has been here to chuck me out? He hasn’t asked me to leave? Did he go on vacation? If he bailed on me like that and didn’t even so much as leave a note, I don’t care how hot he is, that was probably our last date.” Her eyes narrowed. “I even packed my cutest underwear. He did not deserve them.”

“You can keep the underwear thing to yourself,” Bonnie said hastily, voice still trembling with laughter. She cleared her throat, and tried again. “And to answer your question, no one knows where he is. That’s the problem. Forty-eight hours ago, the witch council announced they had successfully overthrown his hold on the city. Two hours later, you called me and said you couldn’t remember where you were or how you got here, but you had a really strong feeling that you shouldn’t leave.”

Caroline sat back down slowly. “What does that mean?”

Bonnie shook her head. “I don’t know. But what I do know isn’t… great.”

Caroline tried to smile. “That’s not really comforting.”

Bonnie ignored her.

“Klaus brought you back here, to his… for lack of better word, lair. You probably had sex.” Bonnie’s nose wrinkled, but she kept going. “Dragons are possessive at best, Caroline. I don’t know what is going on between the two of you, but it took him over a month to sweet talk you into a date and yet you are keyed heavily enough into his wards that you were able to invite me, a witch, into his home without either of us getting fried.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. You also feel safe enough here that you didn’t bolt home in a walk-of-shame after waking up alone and suffering from amnesia. ” Her eyes were solemn, not a hint of tease on her face. “Whatever spell was used, it has wiped Klaus from your memory and life so thoroughly you don’t have so much as a text or picture linking back to him. So either you were caught up in the crossfire of the spell that took him out or the entirety of New York has also forgotten him. And none of those options are good ones.”

Caroline swallowed past her suddenly very dry mouth. “What does that mean?”

“I have no idea,” Bonnie said with a sigh. “But his magic is here, you're here. Which means he is alive and we are probably going to have to find him. And we will have to be careful, because if anyone from the council realizes that you’re probably the key to finding him, they’ll try to kill us. I’m already not super popular with some of the older factions, I cannot see this helping matters.”

“What, wait?” Caroline said up straight. “Why do we have to find him? Aren’t there other people who can do that? Didn’t you just say he rules this city? Surely he has like, minions or something that can do the heavy lifting?”

“If only.” Bonnie nodded towards her wrist. “But why us? Because you’re wearing his magic, Care. And while I definitely do not approve of dating a dragon, no matter what I think about it, there is no way his magic would cling to you if you hadn’t agreed to it. Probably. Which means when you aren’t dealing with a weird jedi mind wipe, you care about him. For some reason. And the Caroline I know doesn’t leave people behind.”

Caroline glanced down at her wrist and swallowed hard. Now that Bonnie had pointed it out, she could see the gold shimmer of a mark she couldn’t decipher beneath the familiar blue swallow on her right wrist. That mark felt… right. Familiar, as if she should have known it was there the entire time. Blowing out a breath, she glanced back at Bonnie’s unhappy face and grimaced.

“I bet we can find tequila if we look hard enough.”

#my fic #klaroline #klaroline fanfic #yeah yeah #back on my dragon bullshit #what can I say #I like this trope

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bangtan-sonyeonddaeng · 4 years ago

Text

BTS Reaction: You are Adora’s best friend and they often come to her studio to see you

Hey I’m working on a new song for the guys and wanted to get your opinion. Can you stop by later today?

Sure! Want me to bring something for us to eat?

Bless you. Yes please. I haven’t had time to eat anything other than snacks ;~;

Okay! I’ll see you soon then bestie!

Thank you! And for the love of God DO NOT TELL THE BOYS YOU ARE COMING HERE. WE WILL NEVER GET ANY WORK DONE.

my lips are sealed 🤐

You can’t help but laugh as you read over the last conversation from your best friend. It was no secret that the members were... fond of you to say the least. You remember the first time you had met them. You were in the studio helping Soo-hyun, listening to a song she had just written when Jimin walked in, only to stand there with his mouth agape.

“Who are you?!”

“Jimin is that any way to address my best friend? This is y/n be nice!”

“Sorry! I just... didn’t know you had any friends.”

“Hey! And don’t be mean to me either!” You laugh at their mini argument back and forth. You had heard stories from her before about how the members were like her other family and that she adored every single one of them. You sit there until their bickering abruptly ends as Jimin remembers you are still in the room.

“Ah sorry. Y/n was it? I’m Jimin.”

“Nice to meet you, Jimin.”

“Is there a reason you burst into my studio? Or can we get back to work here?”

“Um.. there was but suddenly I forgot what it was so I will leave you two be. Bye y/n!”

“Bye, Jimin!”

“Hey what am I to you huh? I don’t get a goodbye?” But he’s already out the door. It didn’t sneak past your notice that his cheeks were colored pink before he abruptly turned away from the both of you.

“What’s gotten into him?”

“Don’t know. Anyway let’s get back to the song shall we?” You only make it about 15 more minutes before there is another visitor to the studio.

“Tae? Jin? What are you both doing here?”

“We wanted to come see your pretty friend that Jimin hasn’t shut up about for the past 15 minutes straight. I mean he wasn’t lying, you are beautiful.” Taehyung’s words cause you to blush fiercely.

“Alright that’s enough stop hitting on my friend. Both of you, out!” She stands and practically shoves them both out the door, this time making sure to lock it behind them. “I swear I don’t know what’s gotten into them. They hardly ever come in here unless it’s to work.” You can’t help the giggles that escape you at her bewildered expression.

“I’m sure it’s just because I am a new face Soo-hyun. In a few weeks they probably won’t even remember me or care about my existence.”

Except that wasn’t the case at all. Each one of the members was bound and determined to befriend you. Often dropping by the studio out of the blue just to see you. It got to the point where Soo-hyun created a group chat with the 9 of you so you could all have each other’s numbers and talk and coordinate whenever you wanted to visit with them, but not when you were helping her.

And that’s how you ended up where you are today. Standing outside of Adorable Trap studio with Jungkook talking your ear off as the members seemingly had a radar for when you were in the building.

“Jungkook I really have to go now. Adora needs my help with a song and I’ve kept her waiting longer than I should have.”

“Oh I’m sorry! Of course. I’ll leave you be. Maybe when you’re done you can stop by the dorms and we can play a game together?” He looks at you with those large doe eyes of his that he knows you can’t say no to.

“Sure, Kookie. I’ll see you later then, yeah?” You walk into the studio and Soo-hyun runs over to you hugging you at the sight of the food you brought.

“You’re a life saver! Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. Although I must warn you, I ran into Jungkook on my way in here...”

“We’re not going to get anything done are we?”

“Probably not.” You both laugh at that and sit on the couch eating your food when inevitably, Namjoon and Hoseok walk into the room.

“Ah Jungkookie said y/n was here, I guess he didn’t lie after all! And you didn’t bring any food for us? My heart aches at this betrayal.” Hoseok dramatically holds a hand over his chest.

“Well it was supposed to be a secret that y/n was coming here so we could actually get some work done for once.”

“We won’t keep you long! Adora I know you have been working hard on our new album so we just wanted to drop by and say Hi. And also we’re going to get coffee would you both like anything?” You tell Namjoon your favorite drink order and he nods, attempting to leave the room but is held back by Hoseok talking animatedly with you.

“Y/n! Wanna see the new choreography I’ve been working on?”

“Hobi I don’t-”

“Please! I promise it won’t take long. I just really value your opinion and want to get your honest input.” And just like that, he flashes that sunshine smile of his and you can’t say no. You grin sheepishly at your friend and she waves you off.

“You’re so whipped for them. Go ahead! I’ll just finish my food.”

“Yay! Okay so here...” He hands you his phone and right in the middle of watching it, Yoongi walks into the room as well.

“Certainly doesn’t look like you’re working in here.” Soo-hyun scoffs and nearly chokes on her food.

“How are we supposed to when you all keep coming in here?!” She laughs incredulously and you can’t help but join in on her laughter. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in this situation and certainly won’t be the last.

“Alright kids, leave y/n and Adora alone. They have work to do. Hobi you can show your dance another time. And I thought you were going to get coffee anyway? You know the longer I have to wait the grumpier I get.” He furrows his brows and tries to be intimidating. Hoseok laughs and ruffles his hair.

“You’re about as intimidating as a gummy bear, hyung. But we’ll get out of your hair now. Bye!” Him and Namjoon leave the studio and Yoongi flops down onto the couch next you, looking at you with pleading eyes which you know by now means he wants some of your food. You feed him some with your chopsticks and he sighs happily.

“Thank you y/n.”

“And thank you for making sure we can actually focus now.”

“You mind if I stay so I can listen too?”

“Of course. The more ears we have the better.” Soo-hyun offers. You move along quickly and figure out what was missing in the beat and what needed changed. The three of you working together with no interruptions leads you to be quite productive and the song is almost done when Namjoon walks in with your coffees. He drops them off and quickly leaves, but shortly after that you get a message from Namjoon.

Hey. The members wanted me to text you and apologize on behalf of all of them for always bothering you. If they’re too much they said they’ll leave you alone when you come to work from now on. I am speaking from my own mind now but... they’re all really fond of you. We all are. You’ve become an adopted member of our little family here and seeing you brightens our days a little more.

You smile at the message, opening up your group chat and opting to respond to all of them.

None of you are bothering me when you come to see me. It honestly makes me really happy to know you guys all care about me that much. You’re like family to me too and I love each and every single one of you so please, keep coming to see me and visit me. Text me throughout the day and let me know how you’re doing. I look forward to it as much as you do.

The chat starts blowing up with kind and loving words from all the members. You even get a message from Yoongi who looks up at you and smiles after you read it. You stand up from the chair and hug Soo-hyun tightly. Then move over to Yoongi who after much protest, eventually gives in and lets you hug him too. The way he melts into your embrace tells you he really doesn’t mind the affection all that much.

“You all are the best. Seriously. I have no idea what I would do without you.”

#bts reaction #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts #kim namjoon #rm #kim seokjin #jin #min yoongi #suga #jung hoseok #jhope #park jimin #kim taehyung #v #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook

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jamielea81 · 5 years ago

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Just a Simple Lie

Chapter 9

Description: Having worked on small independent films for the better part of a decade, your friend tells you about an opening for a script supervisor with a large studio. Wanting to advance your career, you apply and get an interview. The only downside, they prefer to hire crew who are married. It’s just a simple lie, right?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, pining, fluff

A/N: This is NOT the final chapter. There is one more after this one. Per the usual: this fic is simply for fun. I know nothing about the personal lives of the two actors in this series and mean no harm. I am also totally guessing regarding the studio talk. Comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome.

Word Count: 3,932

Catch up with Chapter 8

“What’s going on with you?” Monica asked.

“Nothing.”

She’s asked you this question for the better part of a month. Not Yours only had a couple of weeks left to shoot, but filming had seemed to drag on despite it it’s short two month schedule.

“Are you still down about Travis?”

Okay, yes, you were still lying. Kind of. After the night of the wrap party where Chris Evans walked out of your life, you took the ring off and put it back into your jewelry box saying a prayer of sorry to your grandmother for wearing her ring. Surprisingly no one brought it or Travis up except for Monica. You kept it vague. Said he wasn’t right for you and the two of you were friends. All of which was true and she didn’t press. Except for when she asked what was wrong.

“Travis and I are friends. And I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine. You’ve just been down this whole shoot.”

“Have I not been getting the job done? Have I dropped the ball in anyway?” you asked, nose buried in your copy of the script.

“Duuuuude,” she said bumping you.

“Fine,” you tossed your script on to your desk and gave her your full attention. “I’m just tired. Honestly. Haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Maybe your pregnant.”

“You’d have to be having sex to be pregnant, Monica.”

“Maybe you’re like three months pregnant and don’t know it,” she said with a smug grin. She was pulling your chain per the usual.

You gave her a smile that verged on a laugh. “You suck.”

“Maybe so. But you still love me,” she replied.

And you did. The two of you had become extremely close on this shoot. Probably because it was being completely shot on the lot with teenagers and people in their early twenties who liked to go out to clubs. Most of the crew were in their thirties so you stuck together. It was for the best. Look where being besties with Chris got you.

You tried. Honest to goodness tried. The morning after the wrap party you called him with your hands shaking the whole time only to be dumped in his voicemail. You texted him about twelve times that first week and didn’t receive a response. Two weeks later he responded.

Chris: Maybe it’s best we just don’t speak.

Getting that message shot a pain through your heart you didn’t think was possible. Twenty minutes later he messaged again.

Chris: I can’t be with someone who isn’t honest with me. Any type of relationship is built on communication and honesty.

He was right. While he was busy falling for you, you were pretending to be engaged.

Y/N: You’re right. It’s something I’ll always regret but I’ll accept your request. I won’t contact you again.

There was no use pouring your heart out to him again. You had already done so a few times in voicemails and text messages. If anything, you were mad at yourself. Mad for not telling him when the two of you had first gotten close. And again, when you were sick and staying in his rental. Or the numerous times the two of you hung out after filming was complete for the day. You were so ready to let him go after the wrap party until he told you he was crazy about you. Of course, you were crazy about him too, but you had locked that away.

“I’m just having a problem with a friend. I wasn’t honest about something and now we aren’t speaking,” you told her with a shrug.

“If they’re a good friend they’ll eventually come around.”

“I hope so.”

“She’s unbearable,” Ian said, running a hand through his hair making it stand on end. “Can you please just stay with us? Or maybe, um. Maybe you can convince her she’s not working enough?” You chuckled at your crazed friend. “The people at Sony must have professionals on staff that can manage her. I just... I just can’t anymore. Not to mention I haven’t put together any of the furniture in the nursery. Haven’t washed any of the clothing or bedding. There just isn’t time.”

He bent over the sink, hands resting on the polished stone on either side, breathing deeply. You clicked the pulse button on the blender giving it another minute to come together. Ian had come into the room with his mouth moving when you were in the middle of blending the pink concoction making you pause. You released the button, walking past Ian’s arched back to grab glass from the cupboard. Walking past him once more, you took off the cover and poured the fruit and spinach filled smoothie into the glass.

Joanna was on the couch, her legs reclined on the empty seats with her tablet in hand.

“Here you go my dear. I’m taking your hubby out for a beer.”

She rested the tablet on her large belly and smiled. “Thank you. He’s driving me up the wall.”

You kissed the top of her head. “I’ve got you.”

Travis and Gemma were seated at a four top sitting opposite of each other when you and Ian walked in.

“Oh look, Gem! It’s my lovely bride,” Travis nearly shouted as you took a seat next to him.

Flicking him on the arm, he flinched but kissed your cheek. “Are we ever getting over that?” you whined.

“Never,” he whispered.

“I still can’t believe you assholes never told me,” Gemma replied.

“Ye-ah. It wasn’t my most shining moment and I’d like to forget it. He’s all yours,” you tease, raising your eyebrows up and down.

“Been there. Done that,” she replied.

“Hey! I’m right here!” Travis interjected.

You put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer to you. “You’re so pretty.”

“Brat,” he replied.

“I just want a beer,” Ian said, his head resting on the table top.

Travis sprung out of his seat and made his way to the bar to grab Ian his beer because waiting for the server to arrive was just too many minutes wasted.

“So, you’re really done?” Gemma asked, mouth immediately going back to the straw in her glass. Some sort of mojito you thought.

“Mhm. It was for the best. The whole lying thing just was too much.”

During the last week of filming for Not Yours, you gave your notice. You kept it simple that you had some family things going on so you couldn’t commit for the next film. Barbara Floyd, the head of production told you that you had a standing offer there whenever you were ready. It was nice having steady income and influx of films being shot, but you couldn’t continue to work for an employer like that.

Travis returned with three pints, passing one to Ian and yourself.

“Thanks, Trav,” you grinned.

Ian chugged the glass of beer half way down before turning to look at Travis. “Yeah, thank you.” The server stopped by at that moment to check on the table. “One more please.” You chuckled softly causing Ian to look at you. “Anyone else?”

“No, we’re good,” you chuckled again.

“What’s next then?” Gemma continued.

“A low budget, independent. But it’s not a student film. I’ve officially retired from those.”

“Have you official retired from bartending?” Travis asked, knocking an elbow into your side.

“Probably not. It will be my go-to between jobs, probably until I retire.”

The drive to Studio City during rush hour was torture. But truly, it was always rush hour in LA. You really couldn’t complain as the film was being entirely shot in Los Angeles. As much as you did like to visit a new location, sometimes you just wanted your own bed.

With a few worthless honks and a hand gesture you would deny later, you found yourself parked and walking with Jonathan to the shared space amongst the production crew. Jonathan was executive producer and welcoming party for the cast and crew of currently titled, Untitled. Hopefully it would be named before filming wrapped. Being that it was an independent and rather short on funds from what you could tell, you were the sole script supervisor.

“And this is your desk!”

You gave Jonathan the politest smile you could muster. “Perfect.”

It really wasn’t. While your “office” in Vancouver was a cubical, it was modern and new. You didn’t even have walls. It was a small table about the width of two cookie sheets. Spaced on either side of you with about thee feet apart were two other tables for other production crew. At least you figured.

“Great. We are firing on all cylinders today with a table read this afternoon. We hope to start filming tomorrow,” Jonathan added.

“I’ll be ready.”

“That’s what I like to hear. I’m just down the hall if you need me. You have my number?”

“Yep. I should be set, but we’ll know more after the read through.”

Jonathan clapped his hands together, spun around and headed down the tight hallway, presumably to his own table. Maybe it was an office. An executive producer at the very least should have a cubical.

A large banquet table was set up in the middle of sound stage B with more than a dozen chairs for the cast around it. A row of chairs for the producers, the screen writer, director, assistant director, yourself, and a few others circled around the outside. You were a few minutes early per the usual, chatting with the small crew you had just been introduced to. You were getting aquatinted with Simone, the assistant director that was seated to your left when the cast started to trickle in. If you were being honest, you hadn’t looked in to any of the actors that were cast. You had taken on the job last minute when the previous script supervisor had backed out. It was less than a week to prepare, so you spent that time reading through the script a few times and rescuing Joanna and Ian from each other.

Simone had just given you a run down of all the films she had worked on as the two of you compared friends and colleagues in common when you felt someone lightly squeeze your knee. The offending knee groper walked on as your eyes trailed up to see Scott Evans make his way to a chair on the other side of the table. He sent you a wink and you audible gasped.

Fuck. This is going to be weird.

Really, it was only you that was being weird. Scott had squeezed your knee and gave you a friendly wink. But still. Had you known he was going to be in this film, you would have passed on the project. The last thing you wanted to do was make it awkward for him or his brother.

With the reading finished, you briefly addressed the actors letting them know where your desk was located and to come to you with any questions. When no one said anything, you gave a smile and quickly made your escape. Chris didn’t want to speak to you anymore. He made that perfectly clear. Keeping Scott at arms-length would be respecting that.

Scott didn’t film the first week of shooting. It helped ease your nervous stomach knowing you wouldn’t run into him on set or have to provide notes after a scene was shot. You knew he’d be filming the next week, but at least you had the weekend to freak out and hopefully you could just deal with it on Monday.

Cleaning up your table slash desk for the weekend took all but five seconds. Since it wasn’t an enclosed space, you left all personal items including Mr. Fern at home. He was blossoming much to your surprise.

“Hey Y/N.”

You knew that voice. There was no mistaking it. You looked up from your bag you were currently stuffing with your laptop to see Scott in front of you.

“Uh…”

Say something! Anything!

“Hey there Scott. How’s it goin’?”

Yep. You were talented at the art of speaking.

Scott chuckled softly, pulling up a chair from the empty table next to you. “Relax. I come in peace.” You took a shuddered breath. “I’m happy to see you on set. You come with high praise not only from my brother, but from other people you’ve worked with.”

“I doubt that. Your brother is not exactly my biggest fan.”

“I meant work wise sweetie. He can’t deny that.”

You shrugged a shoulder. “Honestly, I didn’t know you were in this film. I took the job when someone dropped out. I’m not like stalking you or trying to get to your brother.” Your bottom lip going between your teeth as soon as you finished your thought.

Scott chuckled again. Shook his head and propped it between his hands, resting his elbows on your table. “You’re cute.”

“Well, I just…I just don’t want to give you the wrong impression is all.”

“You’re not. I never thought that,” he sighed, smile dropping for a second. “Chris is thick headed. I don’t even care if you repeat that. While I think it sucks you lied, I think it sucks that a company also operates like that,” he said.

“Well, maybe they were right.” Scott lifts an eyebrow at this. “What I mean is, Chris and me did get close. Too close.”

Scott sits up straight, hands going to his knees. “But that’s not always the case. Sometimes people are going to fall for each other whether it’s frowned up or not. Listen. My brother has been pretty grumpy for the last couple of months. I was frankly happy that filming started this week because I needed a break from him. He’ll come around. Don’t give up on this.”

You nodded and stood up from your seat. “Walk me out?”

“You got it.”

Despite what Scott had said, you weren’t too sure. Yes, you kissed him and boy, was that quite the kiss. But he didn’t know how you felt. You never got to say the words. And he made it perfectly clear that the two of you shouldn’t speak to each other.

After a month and a half of filming, you were officially on vacation. Well, not really. You just didn’t have another film lined up at the moment. Scott had been nothing but a peach during the shoot. He was as sweet as pie and kept you quite entertained. You weren’t quite sure if you were happy or disappointed that Chris never came to visit Scott on set. In all honesty, you probably would have shutdown and hid, so it was probably for the best that he didn’t. You didn’t pry, but Scott had offered up that Chris had been in Boston, so it made sense he wasn’t around.

You were back to bartending part time. It was something to do with your free time and it was nice to have extra cash in your pocket. Thankfully, you were a saver and lived in a one-bedroom rental, so you could afford to take a few months off.

In your free time you were with your friends. Joanna’s mood swings had subsided and Ian didn’t call you for backup as much as he had been. You didn’t necessarily think she had mood swings. She had a rough few months with bouts of sickness and her emotions were running high. But it was nice to be able to go to her house and have fun like you used to.

“Trav, could you pass me the popcorn?”

He shook his head no, holding the bowl against his chest. “You and Gem are just going to eat it all and not share. I know you two.”

“Wow... I am hurt.”

“No you’re not,” he chuckled.

“I promise to make more after we all finish this bowl.”

“No, you won’t,” Gemma whispered beside you.

You knocked her with your elbow and shushed her quietly. Travis stood and passed you the bowl.

“I’ll go make my own,” he muttered before walking to the kitchen.

You let out a loud laugh, taking a large handful of popcorn and shoving it in your mouth.

Jana laid on the couch across from you with her feet in Ian’s lap. He was rubbing them with a peaceful look on his face while Jana smiled at him. They were happy and that’s all you wanted. You hoped that someday you’d find your person.

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table in front of you. Reaching for a napkin, you wiped the butter off your hands before picking it up.

Scott: Whatcha doin’?

Y/N: At my friend’s house. I work tonight.

Scott: That bites. You work all week?

Y/N: Tonight, tomorrow, and Friday. What are you up to?

Scott: Being lazy. Thinking about a solo dance party.

You smiled at his text.

Y/N: I could really go for one of those.

Y/N: Are you going to be in town for a while?

Scott: A couple of weeks at least.

Y/N: Want to grab lunch next week?

Scott: Sounds good angel. Let me know when.

Y/N: Will do. Have fun with your dance party.

Tuesdays were generally quiet, but people seemed to tip better. You weren’t sure if it was because patrons knew your tips would be few and far between or if the Tuesday crowd was just generous.

You had a tall can of energy drink behind the bar that you snuck sips from as the night went on. You knew it wasn’t healthy, but staying up until three in the morning on the nights you worked wasn’t easy. Making it to midnight was no problem, but after that, you were dead on your feet. It was only eight and you were already dragging. Grabbing the can, you brought it to your lips taking a pull.

“Those things will kill you.”

You put the can down and spun around to face the bar top. Your stomach dropped as you gripped the edge of the counter to keep yourself standing.

“Chris,” you whispered.

“Hey,” he said softly, pulling his black ballcap low on his face.

“Uh, hi?”

What the fuck is he doing here?

“Can I get a beer?” he asked. You stared blankly at him as he took a seat in the stool directly in front of you. “Whatever IPA you have on tap.”

You couldn’t move. Chris was here and speaking to you as if this was an everyday occurrence.

“Sweetheart?”

“Uhhh. IPA?” you asked, somehow getting your voice back.

Chris nodded his head. He interlaced his fingers and rested his hands on the bar. You walked to the far side of the bar to give yourself a minute to breathe. It didn’t matter than there were two IPAs on tap two feet from where he sat, the taps on the far end is where you went. You filled the glass and gave yourself an extra ten seconds to calm down. This was Chris. Your friend Chris who you were crazy about and he was crazy about you. At least he once was. You on the other hand were still crazy about him. You could deal with him in your bar for fifteen minutes or however long it takes him to finish his drink.

You walked back the length of the bar, grabbing a coaster and setting both in front of him.

“What are you doing here, Chris?”

He took a quick sip, licking the foam from his lips before setting the glass back down. “Straight to the point. I can deal with that. Uh, Scott told me you worked here.”

Scott. You internally rolled your eyes.

“That’s why he asked about my work schedule yesterday.”

Chris cringed a little bit, shrugging both shoulders. “I asked him to. I should have just called you, but I wasn’t sure if you would have picked up for me.”

This time you actually rolled your eyes. “I would have taken your call. You’re the one that doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.” It came out way harsher than you meant it to. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” You shook your head, placing your elbows on the bar top and leaned in. “I thought about what I’d say if I saw you again and that wasn’t it. What I meant is I’m sorry. When you and I became friends, I should have told you what was going on, but I was scared. It seemed like such an innocent lie in the beginning but it kept getting bigger. I trusted you, but when it came down to it, I didn’t honor that trust and I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

Chris visible relaxed, his back hunching as he rested his forearms on the bar. “Sweetheart,” he started. “This isn’t all on you. I get why you didn’t want to tell me and while I wish you would have, I can’t hold that against you. I was hurt. Once we started hanging out, I started to fall for you even though I knew I shouldn’t. It was hard, so hard to hold back and respect the relationship I thought you had. So, it hurt when I found out it wasn’t real. But I shouldn’t have pushed you away that I had. I wish I hadn’t sent you that text message after ignoring you for weeks. So, what I’m trying to say is I’m sorry too. I’d like for us to be friends again.”

Friends. Not exactly what you hoped for, but you’d take Chris back in your life anyway you could get him.

“I would like that,” you said, offering him a small smile. “I’ll be right back.”

A couple had come in and taken a seat at table. You walked over, grabbing their drink orders before returning to the bar. It was probably the quickest margarita over ice and whiskey coke you’ve ever made, but you were walking on air at the moment. Chris wanted to be friends again.

Chris had apparently chugged his beer in the few minutes you were gone. You guessed he was just as nervous as you were about this conversation. “One more?” you asked, coming to stand in front of him again.

“Please.”

This time you went to the taps closest to him. You filled a new glass and stuck his old in the dishwasher.

“How long are you in town?” you asked.

“Just a couple of weeks. I actually wanted to talk to you about that.” You leaned on your forearms as you waited for him to continue. “I start shooting a new movie in a few months. I’m directing again.”

Your face lit up at his news. “That’s great Chris. Are you starring too?”

He took a sip from the glass and nodded his head. “I am. Which is the problem.” You crinkled your brow and quirked your mouth to the side. “See, if I’m directing, it’s kind of hard for me to give myself notes and keep me in line.”

“Yeah, you are a tough one to work with,” you sassed.

Chris smiled, letting his eyes go soft. “So, I need a good script supervisor. Any chance you know of one that doesn’t currently have a new film lined up?”

You smiled brightly before giving him an intense stare. “It’s not in Canada in the winter is it?”

“Nah. New England in the fall. What do you say, Y/N?”

You drummed your hands on the bar. “I’ll take it.”

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itty-bittle · 4 years ago

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I know absolutely no one asked for this, but I was overcome and had to get this out of my brain. and i had to break my 4 months of writer’s block. so here’s this, i might make more! i am selling a product for which there is no demand 😌

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Nursey/Dex, 1500 words (so far)

He knew this road like the back of his hand. All of them, really, the way they sprouted and converged with one another, each leading to a building or a park or a neat row of raccoon-infested dumpsters he’d seen a thousand times. It was easier at night to see them all again, brain on autopilot as one hand worked the steering wheel, the other tucked under his thigh. It made him almost angry, the nostalgia that’d wormed itself into his chest again. He hated this fucking place.

The only part he liked was the Persian tobacco store owner who’d sold to him since he was a scrawny 16 year old, who saw his shaved head and poorly ace bandage-bound chest, and passed the carton of cigarettes across the counter without even asking for his ID. He smoked half the pack in one sitting the first time, hoping his lungs would just shrivel up on the spot. They didn’t, he just felt sick and lightheaded his entire drive back home. He didn’t stop, though. He almost liked the way they made him feel. The nausea drew him out of his body, clenching his stomach instead of his heart for a few brief minutes.

He was smoking now, actually. The filter of a fresh dart pinched between his index and middle fingers, stinking smoke into the ceiling of his pickup. Luckily it’d already reeked of ashtray when he bought it, so he didn’t have to feel bad about ruining the upholstery. He shifted his unused hand to steady the bottom of the steering wheel while he took a drag. No one knew he smoked, at least at Samwell. He didn’t live in the Haus so it was easy enough to hide, not that they could do anything about it if they found out. His coaches could tell him to stop, but he did well enough on the ice with black lungs already. He just knew Bitty would be disappointed in him.

The road was quiet, like it always was after 8pm. In a town full of hicks and the elderly, everyone was busy either snorting pills or resting up for early church service. The night was mild and sweet outside his windows, insects screeching in the foliage framing either side of the road. Dangling his cigarette between his lips, Will dipped his hand outside the window, wind whipping through his fingers like silk. The headlights of the truck barely illuminated the road immediately in front, but it didn’t matter. He knew all the curves were coming before he even had to think about it. He was thinking about going to the shop, Izad was usually there well past closing and would let him in as long as he paid in cash, when his phone started buzzing against his thigh. Glancing down, he saw a facetime request from Nursey, his contact name “annoying shithead” staring back at him. Confused, he spotted a parking lot a little ways down the road and pulled in, heart thumping faster in his chest. He chalked it up to the nicotine buzz.

“What do you want?” He said once he parked, resting his phone on the middle of his steering wheel. The streetlight illuminated him just enough that Nursey couldn’t complain about not seeing his ‘stupid mug’.

“Hello to you too, sexy Dexy.” Nursey drawled. Behind him, Will could see a gorgeous oak desk covered in every manner of clutter: dishes, books, loose papers and half-finished granola bars. “Is a man not allowed to check in on his favorite little star every once in a while?”

“Ha ha.” Will said, flicking the ash off his cigarette where it hung out of the window, safely out of frame. “Then to what do I owe the, uh… pleasure?”

“I missed you.” Nursey said simply, like that wasn’t enough to make Will’s throat tense up with… something. “And I wanted to ask you if you’d quit that awful job yet.” The only decent one he could get in this shitty town, Nursey meant. Will sighed, watching as the ember ate away at his tobacco.

“No, idiot, because they pay me enough to keep gas in my truck. And it’s… I don’t know. It’s nice to do something. To have like a purpose.” Nursey nodded sagely, and something flickered across his face. He probably had a wealth of time sitting on his ass doing nothing, Will thought, and he definitely didn’t envy him. Nursey liked to keep things moving along as much as him, and Will couldn’t imagine what he’d even do if he didn’t have to worry about putting gas in his car or food in his sibling’s mouths. Nursey was probably going insane with boredom.

“What about the lobster boat?”

Will sighed, scrubbing a hand across his face. “The hull is fucked. My uncle crashed it into a sandbar that had a few too many rocks in it. It’ll probably take him all fucking year to get around to fixing it.” The news was disappointing, but not shocking when it came. Uncle Matt had a tendency to drink a few too many when the water got still and the stars were out. Will couldn’t say he blamed him, it was lonely out there. Still, sucked that he had to spend eight hours in a sweltering mechanic shop all summer rather than on the ocean. “How’s C?”

“He’s fine. Cait’s coming to visit him soon.” The scenery behind Nursey changed as he made his way down one of what Will assumed to many long hallways in his house. He’d never actually been, but in his mind Nursey lived in a mansion on top of a skyscraper. “How come you never visit me, babe?” Nursey pouted, little frown replaced by an easy smile when Will scoffed.

“Because I have a job.” Will replied, deciding he didn’t care if Nursey knew his car and his hands and his breath smelled like an ashtray, he paid eight fucking dollars for the carton and he wasn’t going to waste a cigarette because Nursey liked impromptu facetime calls. Besides, Nursey was a lot of things, but he definitely wasn’t a snitch. He took a mildly shameful drag, flicking his eyes away from the screen as he pulled and exhaled. Nursey didn’t look surprised at all.

“American Spirits. Didn’t know you were a fuckin’ tree hugger, Dexy.” Despite himself, Will smiled, taking another pull.

“Fuck off.” Was all he said. There was silence as Nursey reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of, oddly enough, white wine. “Whoa there, big shoots. I thought your parents didn’t drink.”

“They bought it at some fundraiser cus Ma liked the art on the bottle. I’m just going to mix it with cranberry juice, make myself a nice little rose.” Will gagged loudly, scowling at his screen while Nursey laughed. The worst part was knowing he was dead serious.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Will murmured through a mouthful of smoke.

“Bestie withdrawals.” Nursey sighed dramatically, uncorking the bottle and dumping it into a pint glass. He waved the open neck under his nose, inhaling deeply, eyes comically rolling back in his head. “Mm, I’m getting strong notes of… let’s see… cat piss, vinegar and oh,” he inhaled again, “Hints of rubbing alcohol. Simply splendid.”

Will was giggling despite himself. He hated how much he loved Nurse’s stupid antics. “C only left four days ago, how can you already be having withdrawals?”

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen you for like, two months.” He said, and again the same feeling jumped up into the back of Will’s throat, twisting at his guts. It was weird. It was hard to tell when Nursey was being sincere about this kind of thing. All the flirting, the pet names, all of that was a joke, obviously, it had to be. But sometimes Nursey would say things so easily, like they were true, like he really did capital-m miss Will. It wasn’t that Will didn’t miss him too, of course he did, some days he’d wake up and the first thing he did was mindlessly open his phone to scroll through Nursey’s insanely long Snap stories, just to look at his face. He’d never tell him that, of course, which is why the sweet nothings Nursey would casually admit probably affected him so much. Probably.

There was silence again as Nursey rooted around in the fridge for the juice, and Will flicked his ash out the window.

“Y’know…” Will started, hardly believing he was saying what he was about to say. “I do have a Friday off next week. And the shop is closed…”

“Saturday through Monday. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Nursey was grinning, the kind that made Will’s ears heat up and he had to turn his eyes to the window again, pretending he was watching something outside.

“It’s a hell of a drive, though. You better be worth my time, Nurse.” Will said, trying to sound mean but it mostly just came out soft. He stuck his cigarette back in his mouth so he wouldn’t say anything else.

“Oh, I’ll make it worth it, William.” Nursey said, and Will didn’t even need to look to know he was waggling his eyebrows at the screen.

“You’re paying me gas money.”

“I’ll pay for a new shitty fuckin’ pickup if you bring some of your brother’s hooch with you too.”

#Me? projecting onto dex? it's more likely than you'd think #anyways I don't know why I'm writing omgcp fanfic in the year of our lord 2020 but here we are #omgcp #check please!#william poindexter #derek nurse #dexnursey #nurseydex #omgcp fic #this so self indulgent i can't even believe it

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evolsinner · 3 years ago

Text

⊱┊31

tomorrow morning arrives.

i did my best attempt at covering up the bruises from yesterday night with some concealer and foundation... if my dad knew what that sick kid did to me, he wouldn’t have a healed bone in his body to rely on.

i stuff some essentials into a backpack and take a final glance around my room. don’t know if i’ll miss it, to be honest. i shut the door.

*ding.*

my phone lights up and i stop at the top of the stairs.

daddy🔐 good morning, love. how’d you sleep?

terrible.

me great xx

daddy🔐 you in any pain, babe?

heaps.

me none.

🎶my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard and they’re like, it’s better than yours damn right it’s better than yours

i sigh and decline his call twice. if i pick up, i know i’ll burst into tears and i know he’ll get mad at theo all over again.

*ding.*

daddy🔐 this is just a moment, and we’re gonna get out of it, i promise. got you some oxycodone just in case. x

doesn’t feel like a ‘moment’ to me.

daddy🔐 eat your breakfast, take your time with your family. i’ll be waiting for you under the sycamore as usual. (:

i head downstairs to them sitting at the breakfast table. this will be difficult. i sit in my usual seat.

“hey, rosé,” maxi smiles with breadcrumbs sprinkled around his mouth.

“school’s coming close to an end,” dad picks up his cup, reading dailymail on his phone. “isn’t it?”

“yeah, yeah,” i reply, eating from a bowl of oats. “just a few more weeks.”

“excited?”

“since when did anyone like school?” i make a valid point.

he takes a sip of his coffee, chuckling, “class of 2018.”

“yeah, has a ring to it, aye?”

“sure does, mate.”

“hey, maxi,” i nudge him, “imma miss ya.”

“yeah, whatevs,” he downplays it, thinking i’m referring to when i’ll stay in the dorms for uni or something.

“oye!” i playfully punch him.

“you’ll come back, yeah? to visit?” the concern is quick to wash over his small pale face.

that was like a punch in the guts, an ache in my tear ducts and a beat skipped too quick. “of course, i’ll visit! i’ll need as many doses of ‘annoying you’ as i can.”

“pinky promise?” he looks up at me with these sad, sad eyes.

i was never one to break promises... “i um.. i promise that i’ll try my best!”

we lock pinkies.

“..y’know, rosé, i’d step on a lego for you..”

“no way? deadass?” i feel incredibly honoured.

he giggles adorably, “deadass.”

i pull him into myself one last time.

“stop, rosé! you’re messing up my hair again!”

“am i now?”

“quit it!”

“hun, c’mon now, don’t do that. you know how much he hates it.”

“yeah, soz, mum.”

-ˋˏ ༻🍷༺ ˎˊ-

“call me right away if you’re in trouble, alright?” in the teachers’ carpark, mr killian waits for me in some comfy clothing in his car. he texts away on his phone, making last~minute arrangements.

“yessir,” i shut the car door after myself.

people are already swarming inside the building which means that the day has started much quicker than i had anticipated. through all of the shouting, i could have sworn i heard theo’s voice echoing my name in the way my mum always says it and that’s just plain creepy!

wasting no time, i think to myself, what the fuck does larissa have first? c’mon, think! oh my god, yes, that’s right. she has history in block 326!

i slide open the door quietly and crouch to stop myself from blocking a boring BNW film the class is following, well, half of them dozing off. with the teacher too busy telling a student off in the back, i quickly sit down on the free desk next to larissa.

“what the hell are you doing in here?” she hisses. “don’t you have health or something?”

“i wanted to see you…” i reply.

"huh?”

“…because it may be the last time i’ll be seeing you ~ in a while, at least.”

“what?” her eyes pop wide open.

“i’m running away,” i inform her, my phone vibrates in my pocket. “with him.”

she rolls her eyes and heaves at the last two words. “rosé, do you have any idea how stupid that sounds?”

“i know, but~”

“but you need to think about this. you can’t just leave.”

“theo found out already so it’s not like we have a choice. and i could not stop thinking about this and, honestly, at this point, i don’t care about my brain anymore. the heart wants what it wants.”

“you’re being unreasonable. you’re just young and in love~”

“larissa,” i stare at her blatantly.

she sighs, her onyx eyes getting watery. “what the heck am i supposed to do without you? everyone here is fake as fuck. i need my best friend by my side so we can laugh at how dumb they all look.”

“awh,” i pout sadly, “stopp, you’re gonna make me cry.”

“ro?”

“yes?”

“i... i love you.”

“naw, la, i love you too.”

“no, i mean, like..”

my phone vibrates again and this time i look at it.

daddy🔐 we need to go. now.

“hey,” i slide off my seat, crouching next to her, “you’ll figure it out like you always do, okay? you’ll be fine without me,” and i hug her tightly. “promise.”

“but i lov..”

“you’ll be fine, i swear.”

“..there’s no changing your mind is there?”

“i’m sorry,” i cringe.

“and to think you were going through that ‘student x teacher wattpad’ phase. ugh, i’m dumb as fuck.”

“if it comes to it, just say you had no idea what was going on, say you didn’t know shit about sir and i, ight?”

“you know?” she pulls away. “i loathe him for stealing my bestie.”

i purse my lips apologetically.

“you better fucking call me every night! and if he ever tries to fucking hurt you~”

“yes, alright, alright! you’re my go~to. love you, best friend.” as i am about to get up, i remember something. “hey, one more thing. stay away from theo. just trust me, okay?”

she frowns, “why?”

i get an incoming call from mr killian and i quietly answer it.

“rosé, babe, you need to get out of there now,” he says with haste. “the security cameras outside my flat just alerted me. the police are at my place; they know.”

#teacher x student #story #love #romance #cute #sad

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hateswifi · 5 years ago

Text

Rising from the Ashes: Of Graduation and Growth

So this is Part Thirteen here is to my Master List and Part Twelve.

——————————————

Marinette started growing after her first commission with the help of Diana, Lucky Spot became a headquarters for Nette's clothes. She did originals for celebrities only really unless asked for a special event such as a wedding and only for a good price and she couldn't be swamped in commission. Bruce offered her a small part of Wayne Enterprises as a factor because she was using all earth-friendly material and was good publicity. She, at first, refused but unable to keep up with demands accepted Bruce's offer. There was a public announcement and signing of the contract between Wayne Enterprises and Nette, but being dead, she sent Diana as her representative to sign for her. She was well known throughout America and Asia with popularity moving towards Europe. She was getting better known as Nette even more popular than MDC had ever been.

This made knowing Nette a perfect lie for Lila without Marinette around to try and expose her, little did Lila know her Castle of Lies would soon fall. That's how the announcement of a field trip to Gotham happened a couple of weeks before graduation; they were to leave the day of graduation. This is the field trip plan she had come up with before she 'died', but Lila took credit for it all because she became Class President after Marinette's death. Chloe and Adrien didn't bother to pay attention to where the group was going. They didn't realize or care where the class was going because they were leaving to go on tour from graduation. Well first they were going to visit Marinette she was going to reveal herself soon, after coming up with a cover story if she was ever asked about her 'death'.

Adrien graduated valedictorian, which Lila cried about due to it being unfair with her 'disability', Alya threw a fit for her 'bestie'. There was nothing they could change though because Gabriel would have the school board's heads. After the graduation caps been thrown and pictures had been taken, the 4 Outlaws travel to see their dear friend once again, little did they know the class would soon be following them the next day. Lila spread more lies about knowing the Wayne family and her childhood sweetheart Damian along with her best friend Nette.

Back in Gotham with Marinette, she was getting ready for the release of the line 'Butterfly' and the gala that was to follow the next day. Her friends were coming to watch the release and they offered to model because they inspired most of the outfits. She had been spending extra time at Wayne Enterprises, one so Damian didn't murder anyone --a lot was going on-- and two to monitor the production to be released. All the outfits in the actual show were handmaid by Marinette and would be auctioned off at the end to give to a charity.

There was a mix of excited chatter on the plan with the class."I can't wait to get that interview with your boyfriend," Alya exclaimed. oblivious to how irritated the Italian girl had become. "Also I can't believe you managed to get us a tour of Wayne Enterprises, which now includes Nette's factory, along with her fashion show AND the gala. Maybe you can get me an interview with Nette being her best friend. Also, is Damian asking you to the gala?"

"I worked extra hard to get us this trip. Something our old Class President couldn't do. I don't think my Damiboo will do an interview he is shy, so I don't know if we'll be able to see him. I don’t know if he’s taking me to the gala, he’s shy," Lila lied, crossing her arms letting a tear fall. "I still can't believe they had the nerve to tell me I am not in first class."

"Ya girl, I can't believe they would treat, Ladybug's best friend, Jagged Stone's niece, and Damian's Wayne's girlfriend that way." Alya huffed. "Hey, you should ask Damian to sue because you've been treated so badly."

"I'll ask him when I see him," Lila said, putting in headphones while thinking to herself. 'Maybe if I sleep I won't have to deal with this obnoxious girl.'

The plane ride lasted eight hours, which Lila had to listen to Alya babble, about only god know what. When they had gotten outside it was raining and the class tried to hail a taxi.

"Lila. I thought you made plans for how we would travel," Ms. Bustier asked, trying to sound nice through gritted teeth. A car drove by and splashed Lila and Alya, the girls shrieked getting covered in the dirty street water.

"I swear I did," Lila explained, now dripping in the water she started to cry. "They must have been some mistake, they must have canceled on me."

"It's fine Lila, the hotel isn't too far right?" Alya comforted rubbing the top of her back.

"It's about a three-mile walk from here," Lila whimpered between tears.

"We can walk, right Ms. Bustier?" Alya said, hugging the poor Italian.

"I suppose, but Lila you have to make accommodations for tomorrow's tour," Ms. Bustier said as she got the kids to follow her.

Luka was looking out the window of the Outlaw’s limo when he saw his sister's unfortunate class. "Guys! look. Pullover," Luka said looking away from the window.

"Who's there?" Chloe asks moving towards where Luka had been looking. Before Chloe could argue with Luka's decision, he was opening the door.

"You guys need a ride," Luka asked, looking specifically on his sister, they hadn't been on good terms since he had been kicked from Kitty Section.

"Why would we want to hang out with bullies like you!?" Alya exclaimed as Lila was about to accept the offer.

"Juleka are you staying warm and dry?" Luka asked, ignoring Alya.

"She is fine," Alya cut in again.

"It's fine Alya, they're trying to make up for their mistakes," Lila said, stepping forward with her bag following behind her.

"Ya know what," Chloe says, angrily. "We are not bullies and you're all in for a surprise."

"How many of you want a ride from us 'bullies'?" Kagami asks.

"If you're good with Adrien and Luka, you're good in my book," Juleka says, pushing past her classmates and got into the limo. Alix and Kim get in the dry limo while everyone else agreed with Lila, the liar, walk to the hotel in the cold rain.

As the limo drove away Lila started crying, "That was supposed to be our limo, they must have bribed the company to give it to them."

"Those bastards!" Alya screamed and stormed faster towards the hotel.

Back in the limo "So you guys know the truth about Lila's lie?" Kagami asks leaning into the seat.

"Yes, we've known for a while, but couldn't do anything in school," Kim says.

"But now since we've graduated we're done putting up with her bull," Alix huffs, crossing her arms.

"Besides we know Marinette planned this trip and there's no way that we're going to let her work go to waste by Lila's lies," Juleka says, putting her head on her brother's shoulder.

"We're actually on our way to see her," Adrien says sleepily into Kagami's shoulder.

"What... What do you mean?" Kim asks sitting forwards.

"Ignore him," Kagami says, elbowing him.

"No is she alive? We thought she.... she well ya know," Alix said.

"Nah she just moved," Adrien said with a big yawn.

"Shut your boyfriend up Gami," Chloe said harshly.

"She's alive?!!" Juleka said whipping her head forward.

"You can't say anything. She came here for a reason, heck she probably forgot about your trip or she would've had Damian, her boyfriend, cancel the tours," Luka said, shaking his head.

"She's alive, but why did she leave?" Kim asks heartbroken.

"It was kind of a rash decision on her, but she is our friend and we were supporting her," Chloe explains.

"She'll probably explain everything if you run into her at the factory. If not we'll explain everything later," Luka said, looking out the window.

"Looks like this is your destination," Kagami said, looking down at her ringing phone. "Hey, Mar. Yes, we're on our way. We got stuck in traffic we'll be there soon." Luka started opening the door for the group to exit as Gami hung up. "Jagged is waiting for us. She wants to go through fittings before dinner tonight."

"Well sorry this was cut short, but we'll see you soon," Luka said through the open window after he closed the door.

"You may go," Chloe said to the driver. Luka put up the window as the small group headed into the hotel. The Outlaws decided not to tell Marinette about her class and their field trip because she didn't need any more stress.

————————————————————

Tag list (Open):

@northernbluetongue @melhuney @ladysblackcat @sturchling @otaku4312 @g-arya @smolplantmum @bluefyoto94 @echpr @moonlightstar64 @thesunanditsangel @cutechip @heaven428 @elmokingkong @kass-is-weird @niza13149 @urbanpineapplefarmer @ginamarie1512 @chocolatecatstheron @iggy-of-fans @crazylittlemunchkin @komatsuna-yuki @weird-pale-blonde-person @ellerahs @sinnamonroill @daminett4life @queenmj10 @indecisive-mess-named-me @reyna-avila-ramirez-alreanaldo @lizziejay @random-posts-and-stuff @purplesundaze

#ml salt #class salt #mlb x dc #ml new life au #ml salt fic #lila salt #damianette #damian wayne #marinette x batfam #marinette dupain cheng #damimari #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #alya salt #batfam

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

Text

Survey #403

“ashes to ashes, watch me disappear”

If given the opportunity, would you like to star in a musical? Definitely not. I don't like musicals. Name one person you’d take a bullet for: There's honestly a lot, but Mom immediately came to mind. Any posters of a band on your bedroom wall? Yeah: Metallica and Marilyn Manson currently. I want lots more, especially an Ozzy one. Do you think you’ve already met your soulmate? I don't believe in soulmates. Do you share your bedroom with anyone? No, unless you include my cat and snake. Is your favorite color yellow? No, it's actually one of my least favorites. Were you born in a hospital? I was. Do you know the name of the person that delivered you? No, but Mom does. I think he delivered me and my two sisters, and I know Mom has seen him since for other reasons. Was your birth recorded? God no. Good call, Mom. Did you eat a peach this week? Would you believe me if I told you I had a small bit of peach pie for my sister's birthday? For some reason, I just really wanted to try some. It was okay, but the aftertaste sucked. Are you leaving the house tomorrow? Yes, for TMS therapy. Every weekday. Do you enjoy romantic movies, even when they’re cliche? I honestly do. If you could get free vocal lessons would you take them? Probably not. I don't like singing in front of anyone, and it's not like I wanna get anywhere with my singing, so. Is your mother diabetic? She is. Are you? No. Ever sang someone to sleep? No. Who do you stalk the most through Facebook? Nobody. Have you ever deleted your Facebook, then brought it back? No. What is your main responsibility each day? Be sure to take my medications. Do you feel like you fulfill those responsibilities? Yeah. There are rare mornings where I forget, but I almost always remember. I don't fw skipping out on meds that keep my mental health stable. When was the last time you used spray paint? Good question. Do you know the middle name of the last person you kissed? Yep. Who is the friendliest person you know? My mom, probably. Something that annoys you about summer: THE HEAT. THE HUMIDITY. UGH. Something that annoys you about winter: Hm. That's hard to say, given I love winter. I guess the fact it doesn't snow enough here. Are the doors of your fridge side by side or on top of one another? Side-by-side. If you’ve moved out of the house you were born in, do you know the people who live in that house now? Nope. Have you ever cried in a movie theater? Not sobbed or anything, but I've definitely teared up and gotten the sniffles because of multiple movies. Do you read comic books? No. Do you force your way into conversations in which you are not involved? No. Have you ever seriously pretended to be clinically insane? I didn't need to pretend; I'm pretty damn sure I was for a while. Might I add that it's EXTREMELY inconsiderate to pretend you're insane, btw. Insanity is not "cool." It's not "funny." It's not "edgy." It's a serious, confusing, heart-wrenching issue that can ruin lives. Do you know anyone with a stutter? Yes, myself included when I'm even mildly nervous. And sometimes just randomly. With a lisp? I don't believe so. What was the last board game you played? The Disney version of "Pretty Pretty Princess" w/ my niece and even my nephew, even though his sexist-ass dad didn't want him to. Like let your kid have some fun with his sister and aunt, goddamn. They had a blast. It was Aubree's birthday present from me, so I am SO glad she loved it. Did you win? Ha ha, no, I always let Aubree or Ryder win. I came super close once, but I let the kids bend the rules a bit. They don't like losing, and even though they definitely need to understand that just happens and is totally fine for it to, I wasn't about to be the one to make them sad about it. When was the last time you tried to speak with an accent? OH MY LAAAAAWWWWWWD. Also at Aubree's b-day party, at one point, I spoke in a snobbish British accent while I was winning at the aforementioned game. Ryder asked, "Why are you speaking Spanish?", and I fuckin DIED. Have you ever made up a word before? Yeah, I know at least a few instances for fantasy animals in writing. When was the last time you went to a museum? A couple summers ago when my brother and his son visited, we went to a science museum. My nephew was sooooo into it. Do you have a nice yard? If so, do you spend a lot of time outside in it? If not, where do you go when you want to relax outdoors on nice days? Our front and back yards are both small and honestly very boring. The grass is a pretty green, but that's the only nice thing about it. I don't go to sit outside here on any day. Do your parents enjoy any of the things that you enjoy? Do you bond over these things? My parents and I have very similar music tastes, so there's that. I also didn't know for the longest time that Mom likes to write, which I sure as hell do, too! She doesn't really write anymore though, and she's self-conscious of it anyway, like I am. She and I also love a lot of the same shows. What is the movie that you have waited the longest for/which film do you remember anticipating the most/are still anticipating? I think The Incredibles 2. I aaaalways wanted to know what happened after the end of the first film. Do you have any ideas for a story or movie you’re planning to write or you’d write if you had the time/had the talent? Please share a synopsis! I genuinely think some RP I've written is series-worthy, but I don't feel like re-writing the YEARS of RP into a book format, and I sincerely worry that the ridiculously dark parts could inspire people like serial killers and cause A LOT of controversy, crime-blaming, and just general hate. I don't want to be involved in that. What is something that an interested guy/girl could comment about you, that would make you instantly open to them (e.g., “That book you’re reading is from my favorite author”)? Compliment my Markiplier tattoo, obviously knowing it's a tribute to him, and we're essentially besties. Is there a person in your life (maybe barely) that you feel in constant competition with (even just in your imagination)? Maybe you feel they are consistently outshining you? Ugh... there's a local photographer that's much more successful than I am that I admittedly am very envious of. I swear to whatever god you may believe in that I mean it from a modest perspective, I really, really do, but I genuinely think my skills surpasses hers, and she's only more prevalent because photography REALLY is about who you know. She's talented, yes, but like... come on. If you are single, even if you are normally happily single, are there certain specific things you witness that make you wish you were in a relationship (e.g., people getting engaged)? I mean yeah. I miss cuddling, holding hands, kissing, just being cute together, and especially people getting engaged or having kids. It's such a trigger to me. Once upon a time, that's all I wanted with Jason. I wanted to be that beautiful couple that got married and had two or three loved-beyond-words children, but then he left so abruptly, and I feel like it was so brutally robbed from me. I don't want kids anymore like at all, but the point still stands that I felt like my dreams were just ripped away. Out of all your usernames for websites, which one is your favorite? Do you use it for more than one site? I use "Ozzkat" just about everywhere. Have you ever spent the whole day (or multiple days) just looking up one thing on the internet (e.g., videos of your favorite band, how-to videos, quizzes, etc.)? OHHHHHHHHHH YEAH. There have been a couple days or so where I was totally glued to looking up various tattoo designs, bingeing let's plays or conspiracy theory videos, etc. etc. If you ever think about getting married, what are some aspects of the wedding that you would like to see in a non-traditional manner (e.g., a different color dress or “partners” over “husband” and “wife”)? I WILL NOT get married in a church, first of all. I'm also not having the traditional vows, and I probably won't wear a white dress, but instead black. Salt & vinegar, barbecue, sour cream & onion, or cheddar? Ohhhh, I like all those options but barbecue. I think I've gotta go with sour cream & onion, though. Bow ties on guys, dorky or adorable? A D O R A B L E ! ! ! I think they're ordinarily geeky, but I mean, geeky is cute in my world. :^) Do you believe in demonic possession? How about ghosts? Angels? Angels, no. Spirits/ghosts, 100%. I don't exactly believe in demons, per se, but I do question if evil spirits can possess someone. What is one romantic movie that you enjoy enough to watch more than once? I've seen The Notebook numerous times. Name three countries you want to visit; why those three? South Africa to interact with meerkats at the KMP, somewhere up in Canada to see the Northern Lights, and Germany just because, really. I took German for four semesters, and the culture and all just interests me. Do you have a good luck charm? No, considering I don't believe they do jack. Do you use Skype to talk to your friends? Only Sara. Now that I have Discord semi-figured out now though, we'll probably use that for voice chatting. Are you allergic to any animals? I might be allergic to dogs. Do you usually spend your weekends out, or at home? I'm like... always at home. Do you think it’s wrong for people to say "retard/retarded" as an insult? Absofuckinglutely. Don't pull that shit when I'm around. Have you ever had to go to the police department? No. Have you ever lived through a hurricane? Plenty. Have you ever had a home-grown tomato? Yes, from my old friend's garden. We'd have delicious tomato, mayo, and bacon sandwiches. The only instance where I've enjoyed tomatoes. Have you ever held a real gun? The former friend I mentioned just before, her husband always carried a gun, and he just needed me to hold it for a sec for some reason I don't recall. I hated the feeling. Would you rather wear Converse or Vans? I like both, but I think I prefer Converse. Have you ever been called bipolar? Yes, because I clinically am. Have you ever made fun of a handicapped person? FUCK no. And like the "retarded" thing, don't you fucking DARE to do this in front of me. I WILL deck the shit out of you. Do you think it’s okay to have sex before marriage? Sure, as long as you're being safe and are very thorough in communication. Do you like to watch old sitcoms? I don't really watch TV as I say in like every survey it seems, but I do enjoy some old sitcoms I grew up watching with my mom, like The Nanny, The Golden Girls, The Munsters, etc. If asked, could you run a mile nonstop right now? Being completely serious, I don't even know if I CAN physically run right now. My legs are so incredibly weak, and I'm humiliatingly close to what my heaviest weight was back in 2016, so I can almost guarantee my knees would crumple if I tried. Do you wear those rubber wristbands? I used to. I don't really like bracelets nowadays. If a necklace/ring gives you green marks, do you still wear it? Nope. Have you ever driven an electric car? No. When was the last time you saw someone you went to high school with? Uhhhh idk. What breed was the last dog you saw? A fucking GOLIATH of a lab. I shit you not when I say my sister's roommate's dog Hudson is the size of a goddamn bear. How long have your parents been together (or how long were they together, if they no longer are): I wanna say they were together at the very least 20 years. What has been your most epic cooking failure? I once accidentally put something (I don't remember what) in the microwave for around 45 minutes I believe, and I walked away and completely forgot about it. I remembered a long while later, and safe to say, it wasn't edible, whatever it was, lmao. Have you ever been to Mexico? No. Have you ever had a parrot sit on your shoulder? No, but that'd be cool. Has anyone in your life ever treated you abusively? No. How long has it been since your last breakup? Somewhere around two years ago? My memory is so garbage nowadays. Can you concentrate well while listening to music, or do you find it distracting? It's distracting, usually. What’s something you’ve been struggling with lately? I've been pretty bad about drinking too much soda lately. :/

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''under the graveyard'' by ozzy osbourne

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