#on monday i was late to work by 20 minutes and had to stay behind for half an hour to make up for it bc the app we use to clock in suuuucks

[deus-ex-mona]

g o o d n i g h t .

[hb-writes]

Deja Vu

Summary: Charlie was practically raised within the walls of her brother's law firm. It's no surprise that her adulthood visits bring about a bit of deja vu.

Prompt: I can’t smile at you, I’m mad.

Characters: Harvey Specter, Mike Ross & Charlie Specter

Suits (Lines to Live By) Masterlist

—

Charlie trudged through the 50th floor, her feet working on autopilot as she mindlessly hummed along to the music pouring through her headphones. She was right on time, an anomaly, but the office was already close to empty considering it was a Friday night. Monday through Thursday, the place was full up until 10 pm, but on a Friday, most partners and associates cleared out as early as possible. 

Not Harvey Specter and Mike Ross though because they had a meeting, some last minute client thing that they had to wrap up before the weekend could start. Charlie assumed it was running late. That was why the office was empty, with the automatic lights already off from lack of motion in the space. 

Charlie reached in the room and pressed the switch, ensuring that the room stayed dark as she entered. Ordinarily she may have been annoyed with her brother’s lateness, or at the very least, she would have used the time to be productive—to read the book stowed in her bag or to go grab the case files she was assigned to start on next week, but Charlie knew neither endeavor would be worthwhile. 

Tired as she was, she wouldn’t be able to focus on the rich worldbuilding in her new fantasy novel or the boxes upon boxes of discovery. She was better off resting her eyes. Better off putting up her feet and taking a few minutes of peace and quiet before Harvey arrived. 

Dropping her bag by the door and slipping off her shoes in the middle of the room, Charlie padded towards the sofa in her socks, no small part of her hoping her brother’s delay would be another 20 minutes or so. 

Enough time for a power nap before dinner. 

Enough time to rest and recharge. 

Back in middle and high school, Charlie had habitually napped at her brother’s office, either after school or when he dragged her in on the weekends due to lack of childcare. The office felt like home to her, just as comfortable as her bedroom at their dad’s house in Riverside or the one in Harvey’s penthouse. 

Charlie lowered herself to the cushions and sent a text to her brother before setting the phone on the coffee table. Pulling her knees to her chest, a sense of familiarity and calm, a comforting bit of deja vu shrouded Charlie like a blanket as she drifted to a sudden sleep.

—

Charlie squinted against the glaring light, her stomach groaning of its own accord as the scent of Chinese takeout wafted through the room. Lifting her head from the cushion, she reached for her phone to check the time. She had a handful of missed calls and texts from her brother, but seeing as the lights were on, she assumed she didn’t have to call him back. 

Setting her phone back on the coffee table, Charlie turned on her back, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. She couldn’t believe she had slept for almost two hours though she had clearly needed it. 

“Welcome back, BA. You really slept, kid.” 

Charlie groaned. “Are you seriously quoting The A-Team?” she asked as she glanced towards Mike. “Where’s Harvey?” 

“Went to grab some plates,” Mike answered as he continued typing away on his laptop. “And don’t worry. We ordered from the fancy place, but we got your usual.” 

It hadn’t even crossed her mind, but she was grateful for the consideration all the same. 

“Uh, thanks,” she mumbled, pushing herself up into a seated position. “How was the meeting?” she asked, pushing her hair behind her ears. “It ran late?” 

Mike shook his head, still typing for a few moments before he looked up. “Did your class run late?”

“No..?” she offered, eyebrows furrowing. “I was actually early, or on time at least. I didn’t see him when I got here so I just figured I’d wait…and then I fell asleep. Midterms are kicking my—”

Charlie glanced towards the hallway at the sound of her brother’s approach. She turned back to Mike, some part of her made uncomfortable by his nonchalance. She couldn’t understand his ease. It was common knowledge that Harvey didn’t like people at his desk. He barely tolerated when Charlie weasled her way there, and here Mike was settled in the office chair like it was his throne. 

“Aren’t you going to move?” she asked as Harvey neared the door.

“Sure.” Mike glanced up from his laptop. “Do you want to eat at the table or on the couches?” 

Charlie was too distracted to answer, her attention pulled to Harvey’s voice like a magnet as he entered the room. 

“Thanks for letting me know you were here.” 

“I texted you,” Charlie answered. 

“Yeah,” Harvey rolled his eyes. “I’m here. Very helpful.” 

“How much more information am I supposed to give you? Dearest Harvey, I hope this finds you well. It is 7:59 and I am currently occupying couch cushions #1 and #2. Don’t look on cushion #3 because you won’t find me. And anyway, why are you getting after me when Mike’s sitting at your desk? Yell at him.”

Harvey set the plates down on the table, eyebrows raised as he glanced at Mike, who just shrugged. Harvey crossed the room and pressed a hand to Charlie’s forehead.

“You feeling alright there, kid?” 

“Me?” Charlie pushed his hand away. “Are you feeling alright? You hate when people sit at your desk.” 

“I do, and I’m glad to learn after all these years you’ve finally heard me, but Mike’s not sitting at my desk.”

“What is wrong with you? He’s very clearly sitting at—”

Charlie stopped herself as her gaze caught on the startling bright blue of the paperweight she had bought for Mike on his last birthday. She squeezed her eyes shut and brought the heels of her palms to her eyes once again, rubbing at them and half-wondering if this was all a dream. 

But when Charlie opened her eyes, the blue paperweight was still in place and Mike and Harvey were still looking at her as though she was completely mad because she wasn’t in Harvey’s office. Not his current one, anyway. 

She was in Mike’s office, hence his occupying the desk. And hence the glaring lack of records along the far wall and the autographed balls on the windowsill and the distinct lack of shouting on Harvey’s part. 

“Welcome back. You really—” 

Mike started to laugh, but Charlie’s groan drowned him out. “Seriously? Am I having deja vu?” 

“Well, that might explain why you’re sleeping in my old office.” 

“No, not about that,” she answered, gesturing toward Mike. “He just said the same stupid quote.” 

“Really?” Harvey smiled at Mike. “Nice.” 

Charlie rolled her eyes again. “I’m going back to sleep. Maybe next time I’ll wake up in a world where you two aren’t idiots.” 

“Don’t be like that. You know we’re hilarious. I know you want to smile.”

“I can’t smile at you, I’m mad.” 

Harvey snorted. 

“You’re not mad,” he answered. “Mike woke you up from your nap and you’re hungry.”

Harvey grabbed the paper bag from Mike as he walked towards the couch, dropping it in Charlie’s lap as he sat beside her. “Eat an egg roll. You’ll feel better.” 

Charlie elbowed her brother and then dug through the bag to find the egg roll. Charlie dug in immediately. 

“Guess she was starving,” Mike started, only to receive a glare from Charlie as she chewed and swallowed. “Shut up, fool!” Charlie answered, the three of them dissolving into laughter over a dinner steeped in tv and movie quotes. A dinner steeped in nostalgia and the love of family and deja vu.

Suits (Lines to Live By) Masterlist

[betterbooktitles]

On looking older than I am:

By the time I was a teenager, I’d fully accepted my early adulthood. When I wasn’t playing a sport or acting in a play, my number one hobby was taking a John Updike book (sorry) to a coffee shop. I frequented a place within walking distance of my house in Cleveland called Talkies. I sat at the front bar with my book and ate a second lunch at 3 PM. I talked to random people sipping coffee and smoking cigarettes inside. One was a researcher at Case Western who studied molecular biology. He seemed to know no one in Cleveland except me and the baristas. Another guy was a white dude with dreadlocks, a gifted actor who bussed tables at the fancy restaurant next door. Every barista was a 20-something woman who told me about their various trysts in graphic detail. Multiple times the men offered me cigarettes or to split a joint outside. No wonder it took me years to finish one of the Rabbit novels. I was soaking up more than enough adult content in my real life than any book could offer.

The oddest encounter occurred at a hotel in Annapolis, Maryland when I was 15. I attended a boys’ catholic prep school and because my parents and I were taking a few college campus tours during our family trip, and you never know who you might bump into, I chose to wear the tie and khakis I would normally wear in class. I had chosen an aqua shirt with a bright textured gold tie that morning and was still wearing it when I approached the front desk that evening. I promised my English teacher I would have a late assingment on his desk Monday morning despite my travel schedule. I had finished writing it on my mom’s laptop and put it on a flash drive. 

“Is there an office in the hotel with a printer?” I asked the woman at the front desk. I deepened my voice. “My boss needs this report ASAP.”

The woman behind the desk wore a maroon and beige polo shirt with the name of the hotel embroidered on one side and a fat plastic name tag that read “Jess” on the other. She kept her curly brown hair tied back behind her head and looked like she was ready to take a nap rather than help one more jerk fix his malfunctioning room key or find the hotel’s office. She smiled though and led the way. We walked through a large banquet hall that looked like it was hosting a wedding or prom. Pink uplighting and one of those whirling balls with differently colored light filters spun around and painted the room. I watched fat white men in suits sip cocktails out of plastic cups and flirt with young women half their size and age. A number of them wore saris. 

“What is this?” I said aloud. 

“It’s a party for the IMF.” the woman said. “You’re not with them?”

“No, I’m on a different kind of work trip.” I said.

She kept walking until we found a door on the side of the room. Bright tube lighting poured into the mock nightclub when she opened it. I hurried in so as to not disturb the party atmosphere too long, and to my surprise, she shut the door behind us and stayed to watch me use the office. 

Computers in 2002, especially out-of-date communal ones used by everyone in a hotel, were not very fast. The fat glass monitor was already on, and when I opened the browser, I had a good two minutes to chat, which the hotel employee seemed keen on doing.

“So where are you headed?” She asked.

“Well, it’s here tonight, then New York, then upstate somewhere, back to Cleveland.”

“Busy weekend.” 

“Yes, we’re- I’m trying to squeeze in a lot.” 

We talked about my work. I vaguely said I was on a deadline for a writing assignment which made me sound like a journalist or someone with an entry-level publishing job. At some point, she said she was glad I wasn’t with the loud bankers because I seemed too nice and cute to work with them. 

Was this happening?

I found my little essay about Chaucer and clicked print. As a printer the size of a Fiat whirred to life and started pumping out the pages, the woman said: 

“I’m actually off the clock now if you want to have a drink with me.”

“I’d love that,” I said.

I put the essay in a folder (not a professional manila folder, a high school-ass, bright glossy blue folder with my school’s logo on it) and followed her to the hotel bar.

I ordered a beer in the annoying fake way people do in movies: the actor walks up to the bar and instead of checking what’s on tap or thinking of their brand of choice like ‘Bud’ or ‘Stella’ or even naming a type like ‘stout’ or ‘pilsner’ the actor confidently says “I’ll have a beer” and the extra playing the bartender wordlessly gets to pouring.

“I’ll have a beer!” I said to the bartender who squinted his eyes at me and cocked his head. 

“OK…” he pointed at Jess, who still had her uniform and name tag on. 

“Jack and Coke, Ben.” 

I sipped the beer slowly. We drank and talked about work and if Jess was going to bite the bullet and go to grad school. She asked if I wanted, when we finished our drinks, to go with her to a house party up the street.

“We can smoke a bowl, listen to my friend play some music. It’ll be fun.” she assure me.

“I really shouldn’t,” I said, “We’re- I’m… I have an early morning.”

“Ah,” she said, looking down at her drink.

I now realize that every coy excuse I made sounded like I had a girlfriend or wife at home and I maybe had a problem with drugs and alcohol that might make me do something I regretted. I was playing an adult better than I ever had in my life.

“So, someone is with you in your room, then?” Jess asked nervously.

“Yeah. There are people in my room.” 

And here, dear reader, I’m sorry (or happy) to tell you that I fessed up.

“I’m staying with my parents.” I said.

“Oh. That’s sweet. Are they meeting up with you on this trip? Where are they from?”

“We drove here together from Cleveland, actually.”

“Oh, OK.” She said, looking confused.

“I- You see. I’m not on a work trip. I’m seeing schools.” I looked at the bartender who was pretending not to listen on the other side of the empty bar.

“Grad schools?”

“No. Listen. Sorry. I’m in high school.”

“Wait- how old are you?”

“I’m 15.”

“Jesus. Uuughh!” She leaned her torso over the bar as if she was fainting, and looked up at me with one eye over her glass. “Oh, boy. I know how to pick ‘em.”

“I look older,” I said, consolingly. 

“Yes. You do. Oh, God. Wow. OK. Ummm.” She sat up and did a little drum roll with her hands on the bar.

I chugged the rest of my beer. 

Read the rest of the essay here.

[dailylinrambles]

Still a bit mad about this morning...

Cuz who wouldn't be when you're having to question your "reliable" source or having to question whether or not you imagined up the whole thing.

I set my alarm to my usual 6:30 and 6:45. They go off and I hit the 10min snooze. Somehow my phone falls behind my bed. Reluctantly got up, grabbed and laid in bed waiting for the alarm as I am half awake now. I hear Jack pacing but with just a few minutes, I didn't get up just yet. Alarm sounds, get up and see Jack is laying in his bed unbothered. I take a shower. With the phone nearby, casually flipping through short vids to keep awake. The clock says 7:20, meaning I better get a move on to get to work. Chris wakes up as I dress, which is unusual as he gets up around 8ish. Not thinking of it, I put Jack outside and get in the car. My phone here says. 7:41. It takes 15 minutes to work so no time for a food pick up and would just barely make it to the clock. Get to work, wondering why there's so many customers out this early. I look at my phone as I'm walking in the door. 8:57..... How in the world did my clock get stuck in a different hour. Work didn't even bother calling but had been wondering where I had been. Worse of all, the guy higher up than our supervisor is there.

So now I'm wondering if I should even rely on my phone at all now.

Last time I had clock issues was in college and I slept through half a class because my brain had finally tuned out my alarm clock that I had for decades.

It's very frustrating especially as I'm questioning my memory more and more... And I have no proof my clock being wrong as it's on the correct time now and even Chris says he was wondering why I was still home so late in the morning....

In a weird way it was good I stayed an extra hour Monday... At least my time for the week should be fine.

[twobigears]

Chandra Post-Trial Report

So this was Chandra’s first agility trial in over a year since stopping to rehab iliospoas injuries!

The tl;dr is that there was both good stuff and concerning stuff, and the main question I’ll have for the sports vet is “how do we tell whether the concerning stuff is indicative that we still have a bigger Problem than we realized, or if it’s to be expected with a large crazy dog in a high-impact sport and is okay if we carefully manage it with warm-ups/cool-downs, continued stretching, conditioning, etc.” Which I have asked her before, but now that I’ve really tested Chandra in a trial environment again, maybe we have more information to work with.

The good:

Saturday, I think Chandra felt pretty good overall!

The courses were pretty straightforward and other than I think one or two wraps, Chandra did not have to do sharp turns

ETO was only a minor/occasional issue (or is just less of a problem at 16″ because she still definitely has ETOs on every course but not every jump), and watching all the videos she runs into the tunnels instead of jumping into them

I was diligent at stretching her after her runs and checking for spasms/soreness throughout the day.

She Qd in 4/5 runs

She is still sitting square most of the time after the trial and only occasionally lazy sitting

The bad:

We still have the “first-bar” issue. The only run that Chandra did not knock or hit the first bar (out of five) was the very first run of the weekend. It still doesn’t seem to matter how close or far I set her from the first jump.

On Sunday I was seeing some signs of soreness. The first run was fine (other than knocking the first bar), but a couple hours later after she had cooled down and been in her crate for a while, I did get an unhappy vocalization response when I poked around her left iliospoas. After she moved around and warmed up, I couldn’t replicate this and I haven’t gotten that response from her since then (including now two days after the trial). But the vets have always/often been able to get an unhappy response from Chandra palpating around her iliospoas even when I can’t, so I’m not sure that her lack of a response for me means much.

Also on Sunday throughout the day I saw some external rotation and off-weighting on her left rear. This again seemed to get better when she was warm. Some dangling of her left rear foot when jumping, particularly coming out of her sit-stay at the startline and practice jump.

Right rear was noticeably tight during passive hip abduction stretch Sunday evening

The...ish?

Due to a long and late day on Saturday, I didn’t have an opportunity to do a thorough session of passive stretches with Chandra when we got home. We did do her hot pack for 10 minutes on each side. We did her active stretches throughout the day at the trial on Saturday, but a lack of more thorough stretching in the evening might have contributed to Sunday’s issues.

Monday/Tuesday after the trial I am still not getting any signs of pain or discomfort around her iliospoas and hip flexors. No spasming or other negative responses from Chandra.

She is however tight and spasmy in her front end, from her withers and behind her shoulders down towards her elbows (excuse my poor description of canine anatomy lol). On both sides, but a little more on the left. I’m wondering if this indicates her front end was working harder to protect her back end. Especially since she was only jumping 16″, so her front end “should” have been taking less impact than if she was jumping 20″.

Some spasming and tightness in her lower back and left loin, which has been typical as well.

So yeah. The good stuff list is pretty short but I still think it’s a lot of good overall. A definitely a lot of information to take away and discuss with the vet.

[sofiadragon]

This has been in my drafts as a reblog for ages, but I've decided to share the story on it's own instead of inviting drama I don't have time for. Enjoy the tea:

Storytime:

I was a shift lead at a chocolate shop and there was one person who just could not get to work on time Sunday. I would work a closing shift Saturday night, open to close Sunday, and then open on Monday with one of the two owners [boss 1] - so I was completely responsible for the state of things. Every Sunday I'd start out making chocolates before opening at noon and then manage the store straight though mopping up. The crowd that came after church for treats with their kids was truffles to the wall busy. The tips though, oh how the tips flowed like our fondue service. We could not be down a man without long wait times that hurt the (pooled) tips that the college and high school students I managed very much needed.

Everybody loved working there. It was a chocolate shop that made chocolates right there behind the counter, sold chocolate based drinks (non-compete with a coffee shop next door so no espresso) and served fondue at a few café tables or as takeout. It was retail, it was light food service, but it was the best team I ever worked with for the decade or so I was there.

This one guy walking in up to an hour late, usually only 15-20 minutes, and needing to get all the info about special orders, reservations, and who needs what done when while customers are stacking up 3 deep was a problem. We were only open 5 hours and served as much as we did during the 10 hour Friday business hours. Sundays were slammed starting at 12:10 and going until people started thinking about supper.

I talked with the owners and he just stopped being scheduled on Sunday. He moaned and complained about the later closing shifts eating into his social life, but if you wanted to clock out at 6pm instead of 10pm you should have been on time for our short day. He was constantly in need of switching hours with people, and complained like a squeaky hinge when he couldn't get what he wanted. Once, he talked one of the high-school kids into coming in for the last two hours of a closing shift so he could go home early, which would have been illegal if we let it happen because under 17 can't work that late in that state. He was scheduled for fewer hours to accommodate his "actual availability" and got pissy about that.

I very quietly attended a Wiccan drum circle on full moons and Wednesday evenings at the time, but I talked about that exactly zero times in my place of work. I'd told boss 2 over tea at a private meeting off-site because she was all upset about asking me to skip church for work so she could do more with her kids and teach Sunday school every week instead of alternating. She had never asked why I was unavailable to close on Wednesdays and was not the gossiping type. I thought we were on good enough terms, and it got me a raise and a management position so the risk worked out, but man did I lay my head on the chopping block. I do not recommend doung that in a "we want to promote you" meeting unless you are very sure of where you stand. Bonus: I told her when my holidays were and got them all off for the rest of my time working there, so then I could volunteer at my place of worship too, and I did.

Come to find: he was late because he was staying at church. Don't remember what exactly he was there for so late and during seeminly random evenings, some social thing and I got the impression he was fishing for a girlfriend while he was there (do mega churches host speed dating?,) but most people who worked at the shop went to one of two churches (one mega, one Baptist) so he was found out quick enough. I'm thinking he figured with one owner being a Sunday school teacher she'd give him a break for being late if it was a church activity. This was not the case.

After a while, we had a meeting about dude bro's continued moaning, which had started to happen in front of customers instead of just in the back or during closing after the doors were locked. He asked me how I could possibly get all the things done that I said I did on Sunday, trying to get me in trouble for lying about my own hours to try and derail the meeting. After all, I can't be coming in at 9 to make multiple trays of fresh chocolates on a Sunday. It must be work left unfinished from Saturday night. The "bookeeping" oriented boss[1] said they have cameras for that. The "front of house" boss[2] said I was made a shift lead for my availability so they could both have Sunday off. The thought that I might not go to the same Mega Church as he did - and possibly that I have a different religion altogether - dawned on him right in that moment. I got to see this man reevaluate me in real time. When he tried to ask me the obvious question of why I'm not at church I just said "All you need to know is I close every Saturday night and run through until I open with [boss 1] every Monday as I was asked to. You are the only one causing scheduling issues on the weekend that I know of."

Later that week he came on shift as I was turning over to the other manager and refused to do work. Said he couldn't work with a non-Christian, loudly, right in the middle of the shop. Got himself sacked on the spot. Guess he thought it would lose us business if he told people that the people who worked on Sunday weren't Christian.

Honey child, Jews, atheists, and pagans have been doing service jobs for ya'll on Sunday for centuries now. It ain't news.

[sleepyivoryrose]

Today was my first day of trying to fit again into society (it sounds like a was a prisoner or something...) I went to a center where mentally ill people gather to talk and eat food and stuff...it’s organized by my caretakers. It went about as well as I expected, which is, not so good. I just wanted to sit out the one hour I was supposed to without talking to no one at first (I thought this might not be too difficult considering most people there are +20 years older than me, so the generational gap is strong) but I just had to sit beside the socially starved, extremely extroverted person in the room, who’s very first question was “where do you live?”, which is not exactly a good conversation starter. Considering that most people there are in a worse state than I am mentally, I shouldn’t be surprised. 

Anyways, I bailed after half an hour. I should have stayed longer and really go to my limits, but I was really not in the mood for a conversation. On the other hand...I’m seldom in the mood to talk with other people, unless I’ve known them for more then 5 years every single day. 

I’ll try monday again. 

Considering I am such a frikkin weirdo, it’s probably not easy to talk to me, either. 

Talking about caretakers, they’re teaching me how to do house chores. Very late, I know but...I never really learned when I was a kid from my parents. I mean, I did do some housechores at home, just not...everything. And my mom loves teaching about moral and ethics, but is not a very practical person for such things. It’s not laziness...at least not always. I’m just really good at blending out whatever I don’t like. Which was a necessity to survive my bullying days, but on a day to day basis as an adult it’s rather annoying. 

---

I watched Oshi no Ko and Skip to Loafer again, like every Friday. Oshi no Ko was really dark, as always, but I think this time specially. Cancel culture is so real in this day and age. I bet it gives emotional scars. It’s very easy to jugde from behind a monitor, when you don’t have all the facts and weren’t even there. I am not a stranger to that either though, it’s so easy to write whatevers on your mind down, in a place where you feel safe, without the feeling to have any repercusion whatsoever. I’m working on it though. 

Skip to Loafer I always watch after Oshi no Ko, like a palette cleanser. I think else I would lay down on my bed, gaze fixed at the ceiling with a “real shit”. Although I have to admit, Skip to Loafer is getting spicier. Not on the level of Oshi no Ko, I think that would crush my very being if such a cute show happened to be torture pron (cough madoka magica cough). But they left this episode on a cliffhanger, so I’m curious. I don’t think it has its own manga...or else I would spoil myself a little bit. Just a little bit. To get the tickling off my nuts.

--

My friend showed me a few minutes ago a caterpillar her mom brought into the car (by accident, I assume) and I thought it was rather cute, but my friend was hellbent on using it to tease her a little bit. It’s nice. 

---

I wasn’t thinking about going out today, but maybe I will. I’ll decide spontanously. 

[sunspray-peak]

Ch. 15: Your Summer of Rest & Relaxation

MONDAY - SUMMER 1

Summer had always been Achilles’ least favorite season in the city. It was muggy, it was humid, there was too much sun, and the stench of garbage was always 10x too strong. 

The Valley, he bitterly decided upon waking after a record breaking hangover, was no different. He had opened his eyes to a blazing hot sun that was still managing to stream through what were supposed to be blackout curtains. His farmhouse must have already raised 20 degrees since last night. 

He puttered over to the window and cracked it open in search for a breeze that did not come. The air was thick, but hey, at least it wasn’t smelly. Small favors. 

He supposed part of him was simply determined to be bitter. He still didn’t remember that night at the beach quite as well as he should have (though perhaps that was another small favor), but regardless, whatever he had told Alex or whatever Alex may have told him hadn’t much solved either his what-to-do-next problem or its accompanying anxiety. 

But after he pattered to his bathroom to brush his teeth and saw his numerous Sacred To-Do Lists and Sacred Timelines scribbled on sticky notes stuck to the mirror, his bitterness faded to regret, and he plucked the notes off one by one before burning the little stack in ritualistic absolution and brushing the ashes into the bin. 

To take their place, he took to his desk, ball point pen in hand. What should he write? Something happier. Motivational. A new mission for the season. What would Alex say? 

Give no fucks! (Not that Alex would likely say fuck in this situation, but Achilles would). It pained him to write it—he had actually had to pause for a minute—but he ultimately surrendered himself to the cheese and the cringe, stacking the note between Just do it! and Fake it til you make it! He sketched a flamingo and stuck that on the mirror, too, like some sort of reward for his dignity’s sacrifice. 

Gazing at the four pathetic papery products of this morning’s work only made his nose twitch and stomach churn. He swiftly left the bathroom to change for the day. 

He had woken up too late to jog.

Fuck, the heat really just… sits in the Valley, doesn’t it? 

Pierre’s would be open by now, though, and maybe he’d test out their iced teas on the way to return Alex’s jacket. With luck, he thought, checking his watch, the man would be at Zuzu already and he’d be able to leave it with Evelyn. 

He hadn’t seen Alex since his drunken rant two nights ago, and at this point, he wouldn’t mind if it stayed that way. In this town. Of 30 people. 

*****

Pierre’s iced tea was patently not terrible, and, now that he had decided to stay at the farmhouse for the near future, he had decided to purchase a few bags of groceries as well. 

He left the general store with Alex’s letterman over his shoulder, struggling to balance the iced tea and a pack of bagels in his right hand with the paper bags of produce in his left. (“You know, you wouldn’t have to buy from me if you just grew your own,” Pierre had said.) Maybe he was still hungover. It was like all the muscle he had built over the past season had disappeared. He had paused outside Pierre’s’ door to re-bag his purchases for more convenient carrying, when a voice shouted from behind him. 

“Go long!” 

“Hmm?” 

BAM. 

For the third time in three days, Achilles felt a blinding pain flash through his head. This was really getting out of hand. 

“Oh no— shit—shoot—Achilles, I’m so sorry I didn’t realize you were… holding bagels…” 

“No, no…” A slightly dazed Achilles clambered quickly up from the ground, the grid ball that had been so ruthlessly pelted at his head in his hands. “Perfect timing… though aren’t you usually in Zuzu by now?” He handed both the grid ball and the letterman to Alex, who had jogged over with Dusty at his heels. 

“Different schedule in the summer, I only go in twice a week. Mostly lifeguard down by the beach for all the tourists.” 

“Ah. I see. Well! Was swinging by to return this. I washed it, so… don’t worry. It’s clean.” 

Alex tucked the letterman under his arm. “Oh sure. Great, thanks.” 

“Thank you. By the way.” Achilles forced himself to make eye contact. No shying away, some things you had to own up to, and he might as well get it done sooner rather than later. “I’m sorry about that night. I… don’t remember much, to be honest, but knowing me it was probably… a lot.”

How about a joke? Let’s lighten things up.

“I promise I’m not an alcoholic.”

Abort! You idiot, ok pal, what kind of fucking joke—

But Alex laughed lightly. “Oh don’t worry, I could tell that right away. Any alcoholic would’ve been able to hold their liquor better than you did that night.” 

“What can I say, I’m a sad little drunk.” 

Alex shrugged. “Better sad than some of the other options.” He threw the grid ball towards the town square, and the two watched Dusty waddle after it, tail wagging high. Alex didn’t seem inclined to expand upon that night—thank merciful Yoba again for small favors. Achilles might as well follow his lead. 

“So. Tourists, hmm? You know, I was hoping I’d have escaped them moving here and all.” Despite having left his farm that morning determined to never see Alex again in his life, now that he was actually here with him, he… didn’t want to leave. It wasn’t nearly as awkward as Achilles had anticipated, in fact, it felt, all things considered… normal. Easy. 

“Oh yeah, they come in droves during the summer. Mostly for the beach, the tide pools and stuff. It’s a whole affair—Willy hates it, but it’s great for Pierre. Oh hey, that rhymed.”

Achilles snorted. He knelt down to take the ball from Dusty and threw it towards the Mullners’ house when he suddenly felt Alex grasp his shoulder. 

“Hey, you said ‘moving here and all’—how was your meeting with your realtor? Did you make it on time?” 

Achilles wrinkled his nose, for Alex was clearly holding back a roguish grin, and pulled himself out of Alex’s grip. “I did not, actually, as it looks like you probably guessed.” 

Alex merely shrugged again, but the tips of his lips were turned upward in a small, elfish smile. “Hey, I told Elliott to wake you at 8am. Maybe he got the times mixed up.” 

“Oh, sure, yeah, maybe,” Achilles said, running his hand through his hair. “Well whatever magic spell you put on me that night worked. I’m staying in the Valley. For now.” 

“I knew you’d come through,” Alex said, now swinging his whole arm over Achilles’ shoulder. “Listen, let this be your… I don’t know, Summer of rest and relaxation, man. Try not to get caught up in what’s next, just let things happen! Go tan at the beach, eat an ice cream, write bad poetry, learn how to scuba dive—go on like five million dates, burn down Lewis’ house. Low stakes stuff. This is, like, your Summer. You’re going to take it easy, right?” 

It was Achilles’ turn to shrug. 

“No, don’t do that. Say it with me, Ash. This is my summer of rest and relaxation.” 

“…this is my summer of rest and relaxation…” 

“There we go. Listen, I’ve got to run, gotta go set things up for the first day—but stop by the beach when you get a chance! Or I guess not, if you’re trying to avoid tourists… Either way, just… I hope you can enjoy the day.” 

He whistled for Dusty and jogged off. Always so graceful, never scurrying or prowling about like Achilles always was… 

*****

Well, he supposed he’d have to stop by the dreaded beach at some point now, if Alex was spending his days there. He didn’t think he could hate a place more, but especially after the events of two nights ago, even the mere idea of stepping foot on the sand made him absolutely nauseas. 

It was a stupid fear, really. Completely irrational, no matter what his therapist had said. It had been six years, when would he ever get over it and learn to just vibe on the beach like everybody else. Catch some waves, soak up some rays… that’s what normal people did, right? 

He considered the morning’s post it notes. Just do it! He considered Alex’s words. Your summer of rest and relaxation! He considered the voice in his head. You stay the fuck away from the water, bitch.

Really, what was the point of the beach? He never really understood the concept of going to the beach to tan, everyone lying together on the sand in a cloying cloud of chemical sunscreen. If he wanted to sit in the sun, he could do that on his porch, free from judgement. 

Anyway, after dropping Dusty off, Alex had just headed to the beach, and if Achilles went now, he’d be, like, following him too closely, and it’d be awkward, and—

“Heading towards the beach?” 

Achilles turned to the voice. Well, Emily was definitely heading there. Dressed in a red bikini top, a blue towel and bottle of sunscreen under her arm, she was watching him from one of the tables set outside Pierre’s. 

“Hmm… it’s a bit early, don’t you think?” 

“Oh it gets super crowded by noon. Haley’s already gone down and Shane’s meeting us. You should join!” 

Give no fucks! 

How about you shut the fuck up!

“Oh, maybe another time, I haven’t got a towel and I’m not wearing—”

“It’s just sand, Achilles.” 

“Can I at least, I don’t know, grab a book? Emily, I have all these groceries—” 

She glanced inside his bags. “Your avocados can survive a bit of sun. Come on.” 

She grabbed his hand and led him and his silk button down and white linen pants down towards the bridge. No, he was not prepared for the beach at all. 

Then again, on second thought—wasn’t he anxious for something to do? Perhaps this could be his new little project for the Summer: Conquer the Sand and the Sea. Now there was something to put on the mirror…  

*****

A haze of unpleasant memories drifted through Achilles’ mind as he glanced at the spot he had been puking his guts out two nights previously. Damn. There weren’t even any fish this close to shore, what the hell had he been going on about.

Emily had been right—it was already starting to fill up. Folks playing volleyball, parents and their young children scampering around, building sandcastles, digging holes. Nothing like a good hole on the beach, even Achilles knew that. 

Haley waved them over (though not after shooting Achilles a vaguely disgusted look). She had mercifully found a place far from the boardwalk. Sunglasses on, earbuds in, camera perched on a nearby cooler, she was ready to “get her tan on.” 

Shane had also already arrived, and was sporting a stripe of sunscreen on his nose and a slightly too-small sports shirt in a rather sickly shade of lime green as he struggled with the umbrella. He greeted Achilles with his usual grunt, though this time it was accompanied by a halting wave. 

“I’m more of a swimmer myself,” said Emily, stripping her shorts off and tossing them next to her water bottle. “Come with?” 

Fake it till you make it! 

Not when it comes to swimming, that’s how people drown, you fuck. 

Nevertheless, he wasn’t not eager to get away from Haley’s gaze, (which, despite the shades, he was positive were scrutinizing him) and so he followed Emily all the way down to the shore before confessing, “I actually don’t really know how to swim.” 

Not unexpectedly, she gasped, spinning dramatically, hands on her knees as her blue hair whipped around her face. “Whaaaaaat, Achilles, you don’t know how to swim?” 

“I guess I never got around to learning… living in the city and all.” 

“You had to have a yacht, though, right? I mean, you surely had a yacht.” 

His parents actually had zero yachts, thank you very much. 

“No yacht. I… don’t like boats. I also don’t like open water.” 

Emily shook her head. “Absolutely ridiculous. What, are we going to have to go to Willy’s and get some floaties for you?” 

“Absolutely not,” Achilles said, eyes darting around to make sure no one, namely Alex, had heard. The lifeguard, however, was quite a ways away, seemingly scribbling something on the back of a chalkboard. 

Emily followed his gaze, subtle as he thought it was. 

“Well, we should stop at Willy’s and get you some swim trunks later, anyway… I guess we could just stay in the shallows for now…” 

“I mean, don’t let me get in the way of your fun. I’m fine just… standing right here.” In half an inch of sun-warmed water. Perfect. Small steps. 

“You don’t want to learn?” 

“Not particularly, or at least, not in public like this.” He looked again at the ever growing crowd. Giggling children half his height were diving fearlessly into waves as tall as them. A chill ran up his spine at the sight. “Why don’t you teach me tonight? Say 11pm. There ought to be no one here then, right?” 

“I know you’re joking but I’m going to tell you anyway, you don’t want that.” Emily waded slightly deeper out and turned to gently splash him. “That’s when the teenagers come out, and you don’t want to be around them at night.” 

“Oooo teenagers. Gross.” 

The waves were very small over here, so he waded just a little further in, up to his ankles, enticed by Emily’s positive attitude and good humor. He supposed you needed to be born an optimist to be friends with Shane. 

But she in turn swam a few feet further out. There must’ve been a drop off, for she had to tread water now, and the sight of her bobbing about with nothing to stand on made the hairs on his arms rise. He once again turned and focused his attention on the sand to reground himself. 

“Do you know who should teach you, actually?” 

“Hmm?” Achilles said, still gazing east, away from her and the water, and shielding his eyes. Now if only someone had given him a chance to go back for sunglasses… 

“Alex.” 

“Alex is working. You can’t teach me?” 

“I mean, I can. But Alex is an actual swimmer. Like, a swimmer, swimmer.”

“Well I’m not trying to be a swimmer swimmer, I just need to know how to like, move in a general direction.” He dog paddled his arms in the air to demonstrate. “Anyway, I thought he was a grid ball player?”

“Oh, he was at first… oh man, I remember when he first moved to town. Insufferable little kid, but I guess who could really blame him… honestly kind of misogynistic, too, until Haley beat it out of him…” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Wow, yeah, you’re bringing back some memories, I forgot all about this—yeah, and he was absolutely convinced he was going to go pro, it was beyond annoying. His only personality trait for years, I swear to Yoba—‘I’m gonna be an all-star quarterback, just you wait and see’ and all. 

“Of course we all gave him a hard time for it, he deserved it, but jokes on us. He actually did go pro. But with swimming. Who’d have thunk?” 

“Really?” 

Achilles had instinctively turned to face her during her spiel, enthralled by this new nugget of knowledge, but had to look away again when she had flipped over to float on her back. There was a small hermit crab digging a hole in the sand. Fascinating! He’d watch that little guy instead. 

“He started taking it seriously junior year I think, ended up ranking nationally, even got recruited to UMF and everything. Like, he was mad good, like, frontrunner for the Year XXXX Artemian team and everything good. 

“But then Evelyn got really sick, and of course it was tough on George too, so he dropped the team. Stopped training, took time off. And I don’t think he ever really had a chance to get back into it, which is a shame… I know he’s stayed close to grandparents ever since, I think it’s why he lifeguards over the summer here even though the pay is shit.” 

She paused as they both chanced a look over at the lifeguard chair, where Alex sat alongside another guard. 

“All that to say,” she said, punching Achilles in the shoulder after a small wave sent her careening towards him. “He’d totally be down to teach you how to swim.” 

“Right. I’ll keep that in mind…” 

So Alex had been one of the lucky few to have actually made it in pro sports, huh? Or, to revise, almost make it. As Emily had said, it really was a damn shame… A much younger Achilles would’ve given a lot of money for the opportunity (and the necessary skill) to have gone down that path.

Not anymore, though, of course. Armed with the self-awareness one gains from not being 10 years old, he now knew he would never have been cut out for that life. He had never been passionate (or skilled) enough for the actual sport itself to have ever justified professional pursuit. No, his childhood dreams of pro sports had been predominately spurred by the glamorous potential they pretended to promise. 

He wondered how Alex felt about it all. Probably shouldn’t ask—didn’t want to be nosy, and it was likely a delicate conversation. He thought back to their conversation by the Zuzu grid ball stadium last season. Well, this explained the awkwardness. To have been so close, only to have it yanked out from under him due to reasons out of his own control? 

Because if that had ever happened to Achilles—well, that probably would’ve killed him. 

*****

They spent an hour or so splashing about, though Achilles refused to go any deeper on account of his white linen pants and on account of the fact that he’d likely keel over in a faint and then proceed to drown right then and there. Not that Emily needed to know that second part, though she somehow seemed to have sensed it. 

“Maybe if we try again,” Emily had said as they trudged through the waves, “With you dressed more appropriately, that is—you’ll drown and Alex will come save you, how about that, huh?” 

“That sounds like a terrible use of first responders.” Achilles paused. “Is it really that obvious?” He had thought, at least for the most part, he had done a fairly good job hiding his attraction for Alex. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Just to me. And Haley, of course, she’s good at this stuff. Meanwhile, I could feel it in your energy at the bar that first night.”  

It was all just physical attraction, really—nothing worth making a fuss over, or, more importantly, doing anything with. Nevertheless, it was only a matter of time before curiosity finally would get the best of him and he would ask someone, especially now that he was staying in the Valley for the near future. So he might as well ask now. 

“He’s straight, isn’t it?” 

“Hmm…” Emily furrowed her brows and a weird little thrill at the back of Achilles’ mind couldn’t help but tingle for just a second in hope. “I’ll be honest, I mean he’s only ever dated women, but I suppose that doesn’t mean much. I guess Haley would know better… hey Haley!” 

They had reached the umbrella; Shane was now dozing on a towel, so Emily took his chair. Haley lowered her pink sunglasses a centimeter down her nose. “Yes?” 

“Is Alex straight?” 

Haley moved to look at Achilles. “I suppose you’re the one asking?” 

He took a seat on the sand and cracked open a sparkling water from the cooler. “I suppose I am.” 

“Oh, well perfect timing, why don’t we just ask him? Hey Alex, question for you—”

Achilles whipped wildly around as Haley erupted into laughter. “I’m just kidding—”

“All right, fuck you—”

“—okay Hale, that wasn’t very nice—”

“Ugh, ok, but if he had been here, what would’ve been the big deal? Communication. Could solve most of the world’s problems. Just ask him.” She licked her fingers and turned the page of her book. 

Typically, Achilles would be inclined to agree. Nothing better than transparency. But for matters like this…“I… don’t really see a reason…” 

At this response, Haley scooted up in her chair and set her book down in the sand to give Achilles her full attention. “‘Don’t really see a reason?’ What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Well, I mean, I’m not going to ask him out.” 

“Why not?” She sounded offended on Alex’s behalf. 

“Well…” Achilles took a sip and suppressed a gag. Wow, nasty stuff. “Hmm okay, two scenarios, I suppose, right? One, he’s straight. So obviously not interested. Not really a good look for me. And scenario two, he’s not straight—but I’m not looking for a relationship right now, so it wouldn’t matter anyway. So either way, I suppose it doesn’t really benefit me to ask.” 

“‘Benefit you’? Because that’s how we should all think about things like this—you know, I noticed you left out scenario three, by the way: he’s not straight, but also not interested—”

Emily cut her sister off, scooting her chair closer to better join the discussion. “What do you mean ‘not a good look for you?’” 

Achilles tilted his head slightly as he took a beat to better choose his next words. ‘Benefit’ of course hadn’t been the best descriptor, but it hadn’t been entirely inaccurate. 

“Not my best phrasing, I admit, I just mean… you never feel like there’s just something… demeaning about being on the ‘wrong side’” (he had added air quotes) “of any sort of… unrequited emotion? There becomes a sort of one sided vulnerability that proceeds to unbalance the relationship, like it lowers your status, almost. Does that make sense?” 

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been on the ‘wrong side’ of any kind of ‘unrequited emotion—‘” 

“Ooookay Haley…” Emily rolled her eyes and turned back to Achilles. “You really think Alex would think lower of you if you told him and he wasn’t interested?” 

“I would if I were him. And not lower per se, and not on purpose, but, you know… it’s like they’ve given something valuable of theirs to you for nothing in return.” 

“Yeah, well you’re a puffed up little puffin aren’t you, and Alex is… Alex—” 

“I feel like I was just called a slur—you know, I regret bringing you into this conversation—”

“—and going back to scenario two—” Emily had cut him off. “You said you’re not interested in a relationship anyway? Really?” 

Achilles shrugged. “I’ve got too much on my mind these days to have to also deal with another person’s problems. And besides, I’m only physically attracted to him. Doesn’t mean I want to necessarily date him—” 

“But you could still fuck him—“ 

“Haley!” Emily made to slap her sister’s hands, but Haley’s reflexes were faster. She pulled away and reached for her paperback. 

“I’m just kidding…” 

Achilles, whose years of poker face mastery had led to a mere cocked eyebrow at her suggestion (although his heart had definitely skipped about five beats at her words—thank goodness Haley couldn’t read minds… right?), merely responded with, “I’ve never been the type. I guess I like commitment too much.” 

Haley let out a little “Hmph,” as she flipped through to find her page. “Whatever. I guess it all doesn’t matter anyway, because he says he is.” 

“He says what?” Emily popped open an orange soda. 

“Straight. That’s what you originally asked, right? Alex told me last week. He’s straight.” 

“And that just casually came up in conversation last week?” Achilles asked, forcing a smooth, steady tone to hide the little dull drop in his stomach that had resulted from hearing confirmation of what he had already suspected.

“Yeah. I mean I asked him. Duh.” Haley glanced at him over her sunglasses again. “What, you don’t ever question your straight friends’ straightness, Achilles? You’re supposed to turn the tables every now and then, didn’t you know? What kind of representative of the community are you?” 

Achilles stared sullenly into her rose-tinted shades. “So you suggested fucking him, knowing that he’s straight.” 

Haley shrugged, the ribbons of her bikini top fluttering with the movement. “Just wanted to see how you’d react.” 

“Thanks for that…”

*****

After their little chat, Achilles had headed over to Willy’s to grab himself the least cringe pair of swim trunks he could find (it had been difficult), a beach towel that had “I <3 SDV” emblazoned on it (the selection was nearly as awful as the swim trunks), mineral sunscreen (hey, he had sensitive skin), and a paperback of something he had never heard of in his entire life (Dancing with Dolphins, Sharing with Sharks by Richard Finnegan). 

What he had neglected to purchase, however, was food. And only when he had traversed the sandcastle-stricken terrain back to Haley’s floral umbrella did a small rumble in his stomach remind him it was time for lunch. 

“Want to grab a bite?” he asked, turning to Emily who was… meditating? Her eyes were open but she was very still. No response whatsoever. He gave her a little poke, and she started. “Lunch?” 

Still no response. 

“Hey there, how y’all doing? Anyone wanna grab a bite?” 

Alex—actually Alex, this time—had managed to navigate his way through the crowds of families to their little spot. Impressive he had found them among the hundreds of umbrellas. Then again, lifeguards were supposed to be good at this sort of stuff… 

“On my break now, saw you lot lying here.” He frowned at Shane’s comatose body and gingerly took a step back. Still deep asleep. Definitely not meditating, this one. 

“Achilles was just asking us the same thing.” Haley gave a catlike stretch from her chair, arms reaching towards the sky, one hand grasping a fruit cup. “How about you two go grab us some cones or something. Vanilla with rainbow sprinkles, please, thank you.” She turned back to her book. 

“Ooo strawberry sorbet for me, please.” Emily had “woken” from whatever it was she had been doing and was now shimmying up from her towel to grab her orange soda. 

“That’s not lunch—”

“It’s a million degrees out here, Achilles, I think Dr. Harvey will forgive you,” Haley snapped. 

Hoping that the booth would have something slightly more substantial than sweets—although he supposed he could eat one of the bagel’s from this morning’s grocery run if he had to—Achilles followed Alex through the maze of bodies to an ice cream stand that had been set up on the docks. 

“You didn’t change before heading out here?” Alex asked, glancing at the now slightly-stained with seawater silk shirt Achilles was still in. 

“Emily didn’t really give me a chance.” 

“Figures. Although, on the other hand, you are on a beach… not judging, but most men don’t wear any kind of shirt to go swimming…” 

“Hark, who’s talking, you’re wearing one.” It was an extremely weak rebuttal, though; the white tee Alex was wearing had “LIFEGUARD” emblazoned above a red cross on the back. Obviously a uniform. Achilles tried hard not to think about what was lying under it. “Anyway,” he began quickly. “I don’t swim. Don’t know how, actually.” 

Alex’s reaction was almost as dramatic as Emily’s, same wide-eyed gasp, just subtract the dramatic spin for they had reached the front of the line. 

“What? You don’t know how to—hey, Sam! Yeah, one vanilla cone with rainbow sprinkles, one strawberry sorbet, one frozen banana, and…” he looked at Achilles expectantly, who shook his head. 

“I need a real meal in my body before eating dessert.” 

“Sheesh, is this what happens when you get old? Rough.” 

“We have some sandwiches from Pierre’s if you want one of those?” Sam held up a BLT in one hand and a caprese in the other. 

Achilles nodded at the caprese, which Sam handed over. 

“Hey, no, no, no, I can pay for my own sandwich, thanks,” Achilles said pushing Alex’s sprawl of coins to the side. “Here, Sam.” Achilles handed over a $10 bill for the food. “For the lot. Just keep the change.” 

“Uh…” Sam glanced at the $9.97 displayed on the cash register. “Okay…” 

Alex handed over Haley’s cone for Achilles to hold as they left the line. 

“Nothing for Shane?” 

“Shane’s a big kid he can fend for himself,” Alex said lightly. “So wait, you really don’t know how to swim? They didn’t teach you that in the city? It’s like… a life skill.” 

“I was telling Emily, I don’t really go near large bodies of water.”  

“Not even on your yacht?” 

“Why does everyone think I owned a yacht?”  

Alex threw back his head and laughed at Achilles’ indignation, and for just a second Achilles envied the carefree-ness of it all. He had been stuck reading about dancing dolphins all afternoon to alleviate his still-pervasive restlessness… 

“Well I guess we’ll have to teach you. You know, we made it last year with zero drownings, I don’t want you to break our record.” 

They made it back with only one minor incident—Alex had tripped along one of the many large holes and had nearly dropped Emily’s sorbet—but they ultimately returned to the umbrella with all items safe and secure. 

Shane was awake now, and groggily eyeing Alex’s frozen banana. 

“That looks good,” he muttered. 

“Yeah,” Alex said, taking a bite and looking straight into Shane’s heavily hooded eyes. “It is.” 

*****

Alex couldn’t stay for too long, just enough time to scarf down a quarter of Achilles’ sandwich (how could he say no) and hit Shane with the dirtiest look Achilles had ever seen cross the man’s face. 

“You know alcohol’s not allowed on the beach.” Alex was glaring at the beer can clasped tightly in Shane’s hands. 

Shane burped before tipping the can back and swallowing the rest in one fell sweep. Then he burped again. 

“All gone now.” 

Alex frowned, but ultimately must’ve decided the battle wasn’t worth fighting, for he said nothing as he stood to go, dusting residual damp sand from his hands. Only after forcing Achilles to promise to come back to the beach early tomorrow morning for his first swim lesson did he give the group a cheery wave and head back to the lifeguard chair. 

Deciding he’d need approximately 18 hours to mentally prepare for the aforementioned lesson, and despite Emily’s insistence he stay and pop in the shallows with her again “it’s exposure therapy, Achilles, wouldn’t you rather get used to it ahead of time?” Achilles decided he’d call it a day and bid his own farewell to the crew. Only Emily waved goodbye. 

Now trying to decide between an early visit to the saloon or a fat nap (he had been taking a lot of fat naps the past two days, courtesy of his potentially relapsing sleeping pill addiction…), Achilles, deep in thought, found himself accidentally trodding on the large foot of Elliott who had been gazing down at the river from the bridge.  

“Achilles! The man of the hour!” 

“Oh. Hello, Elliott.” 

“How have you been feeling, my friend? For last our paths crossed, you did not seem to be in the most cheerful of moods, if I may say.” 

“Ah, yes… apologies for me abrupt departure, I had been… running late for a meeting. Thank you again, by the way. I’m… very grateful for your hospitality that night.” 

“Oh, just a trifle, just a trifle!” Elliott waved one of his hands before using it to clutch Achilles’ shoulder in a heavy grip. “You look quite splendid now! But no matter—I am delighted to see you, for I was actually wondering, perchance, if you would be able to do me a favor?”   

“Of course, what can I do for you?” Achilles pinched his nose lightly and tried to predict what in the world the man would ask of him. Although, upon remembering Elliott was a self-proclaimed writer, he had his suspicions… 

“Would you perhaps be available to join me for a meal tomorrow night at the saloon?” 

“Oh.” Achilles looked up, studying Elliott’s eager face—auburn eyebrows raised in excitement, mouth just slightly ajar in an expectant, but somewhat shy, smile. Was Elliott… hitting on him?

His first instinct was to say no. After all, the man had been scarcely able to put two sentences together with him during the Spring and now all of a sudden was treating him like a best friend? Strange, at the very least.

What gives? 

But then again, what was the worst thing that could happen? An awkward dinner? It was just a dinner, and he did owe him—and what did Alex say earlier today, anyway? Go on like five millions dates or something like that? 

Or maybe, he thought, now remembering Haley’s usual ego-killing remarks, it wasn’t a date. It very easily didn’t have to be a date. But did Achilles even want to hang out… as friends? 

He was definitely over thinking this. It had been a few seconds now. He was better than this.

Rest and relaxation, Achilles. Oh yeah? And what was more relaxing than a dinner with a strange man at the Stardrop Saloon? Stop that! Just do it, you fuck! 

“Sure. Tomorrow evening sounds great.” Achilles flashed his warmest smile in an attempt to sweep away the five seconds of silence that had been weighing between them before he had given his response. 

Elliott clapped his hands and beamed. “Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful—would 5 o’clock be a satisfactory time for you, or is that too early? I have been told my appetite operates as if it were on Eastern Standard Time, but as they say, the early bird gets the worm! In this case, the worm being the freshest cut of tuna at the Stardrop!” 

“Five is great.”

“Parfait! À plus tard, mon ami!”

“Au revoir…?” 

Achilles proceeded to scurry away once Elliott had bowed his farewells, now utterly determined to brush up on his French if only to show the other man up before wondering if those motivations weren’t particular very “rest and relaxation” of him. 

When he returned home, he methodically stacked his sun-baked groceries into the fridge and various cabinets, threw his new towel and swim shorts in the wash, and rearranged his pens for a good twenty minutes to try to pass the time. 

While he didn’t write much these days outside of To-Do Lists and reminders, he hadn’t been able to part with the pen collection he had amassed from the age of 12. Mostly fountain pens, of course—he had even kept their tightly sealed bottles of ink, though these days they sat unused in a small hand carved box his father had bought him for his 15th birthday. 

15 years worth of pens that had carried him through copious first drafts. He wasn’t sure why he had kept ahold of them, especially given that even his most positive memories of writing felt tainted. But they had followed him from coast to coast, county to county.

The same couldn’t have been said for his typewriter, though, that was for sure—and that thing had cost almost more than nearly all his pens combined (and he had some pretty damn nice pens). Man…

He shook the memory of his beloved typewriter from his head. It had deserved better. 

Desk now re-organized, he unstuck a new post it note, uncapped a pen, and wrote “My Summer of Rest and Recreation.” 

Or was it relaxation? Damn, he had already forgotten what he was supposed to be doing. Relaxation. Alex had definitely say relaxation… right? 

My Summer of Rest and Recreation. And/Or Relaxation. 

He stuck it to the mirror just as his dryer sang its jingly little song to let him know his swim shorts and towel were clean. That reminded him. 

Conquer the Sand and the Sea. 

Go On Five Million Dates.

Learn to Swim, bitch!!!  

Be Hot. Do Crime. 

Four more post it notes joined the four already stuck along the edge of the mirror. The last one hadn’t exactly been on Alex’s list, but “burn down Lewis’ house” was totally up to interpretation, right…?  

Dammit. This was going to be hard. How the fuck was he supposed to relax when he was now supposed to learn how to swim? And at the beach no less? And with Alex as his teacher? If it had been up to him (aka, if he had been allowed to draw up a Timeline on his own terms), he would’ve taken a week to better acclimate to the beach and sea before committing to the actual swimming of it all… Well. Time to pull up some video tutorials… 

‘Relaxing’ my ass. Maybe “recreation” was more apt a descriptor after all. 

[hoonhrt]

EMBRASSE-MOI

: pairing — student! jay x tutor! reader

: genre — fluff, crack 

: song recc. — L’amour by Miel De Montagne 

: a/n — this lowkey sucks but I've been wanting to get work out so I'm sorry if this isn't the best :(( also I'm still learning french so if some of it is wrong pls lmk so i can fix it!! 

Jay was your school’s resident bad boy. blond hair, all-black outfits, cuts class and yells at kids that look his way. you know? the usual. You on the other hand were the complete opposite. straight-A student. A quiet kid who didn’t dare look the ways of Jay Park and his Clique™. So imagine the shock that was felt when the boy you avoided at all costs, walks up to you in the middle of the cafeteria asking for French lessons. 

“You want me to do what?” He rolls his eyes, tired of this conversation already. 

“Can you not hear? I’m failing French and I need to pass or else my parents won’t let me move to France.” He speaks as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“And you’re asking me why?” He rolls his eyes again for what felt like the 100th time. You’re just confused about how he even knows of your existence.

“Listen, all I know that you’re in my French class and that you pay attention, I’ll even pay you I just need to get my mark up.” You perk up to the sound of money. You don’t really need but it’s still nice to have some. Doing this will get you good Karma right? 

“Fine. Meet me at the library every Monday and Wednesday after class, got it?” Jay stares at you with annoyance. He really does not want to be wasting his senior year on stupid lessons but, here we are. He reluctantly agrees and watches you walk away, struggling to hold your books in your arms. He turns around and lets out a deep sigh, wondering if the hot chicks and fancy baguettes in France are really worth this

Minutes turned into hours as you waited for Jay to show up. You waited patiently for hours just for this kid to not show up. Annoyed, you start to pack up your books. You don’t know why you’d think someone like Jay would actually show up to a voluntary tutor session. You were just about to make your way out of the library when you see someone running towards you almost like the flash. As the figure got closer to your still body, you realize it was Jay. Now, bent over in front of you gasping for air with his tongue out like a dog. You stared at his limped-over figure with confusion and slight disgust. 

“s-s-sorry i was… late, i f-forgot about… this.” he manages to speak out with the little air he has in him. He stands up and evens out his breath. 

“what makes you think i’m gonna tutor you now? you wasted my time Park, i have a life too you know.” you snap at him. He stares at you for a brief second before letting out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back and slapping his leg. He sees your serious expression, your eyes glaring at him like an eagle and awkwardly stops laughing. 

“Look, i’m paying you and this is only gonna last for a little while. i just need to pass, that’s it.” His eyes shine with a hopeful gleam, a look that is extremely rare to see from Jay Park. He looked a little cute. You dramatically sigh and start walking into the library, Jay following behind you. 

You settle at the table you sat at prior, re-opening your book bag to pull out your notes. He just watches you do that, not making an effort to even bring out a pencil. 

“Okay, so how much french do you even know?” 

He stares into space, a little hesitant to continue. “Um, i can ask if i can go to the bathroom?” You stare at him with disbelief. You’ve been in this class with him for months and that’s all he knows. 

“THAT’S IT?” 

“Oh and i can say good morning!” you let out a loud groan that catches the attention of others around, causing them to loudly shush at you. Feeling annoyed again, you contemplate if the money was really worth it. You sigh out and start looking for your notes from the beginning of the semester. This was gonna take a LONG time. 

“... and that’s how you conjugate verbs in the past tense, aka passé composé!” You finish off the session with joy. Jay on the other hand has gone completely blank, not remembering a single word you just told him. He stares down at his notes, then at you, then back down at his notes. You can see the struggle on his face and he hasn’t said a word yet. 

“I’m never gonna pass french. This is it. I can kiss France goodbye.” he claims with despair. This already too hard for him and he barely has learned anything. He sets his head on the table and mumbles to himself about how he will never be happy if he doesn’t live his youthful 20’s in France. You sat across from him irritated with his discouraging behaviour and a little sad that you weren’t able to teach him well. Until you come up with a plan that might help him improve much quicker.  

“What if… we hang out this weekend? We can do something and we’ll only speak in French! Of course I’ll help you and all that. But like, maybe? Only if you want to of course you probably don’t wanna spend your weekend with me i dont know you know its just a plan.” you ramble on and on without stopping and Jay simply just watches you. He smirks a little before nodding. 

“How about you put your number in my phone and then I’ll text you when I’m free hm?” he slides his phone across the table towards you and eyes you typing it in. He catches a glimpse of your rose-coloured cheeks and smirks a little more. 

“Okay, uh there’s my number! Just um, text me you know, when you’re free!” you manage to stutter out. Jay just nods at you and again, watches you walk away. This time a slight smile across his face. 

A sudden notification pulls you away from your thoughts. An unknown number that you had a feeling belonged to a particular boy you didn’t think would actually text you. 

042-002-1130: bonjour 

042-002-1130: was that even right

042-002-1130: anyways I’m free on saturday if you wanna hang ig 

042-002-1130: samedi is saturday right 

042-002-1130: it is wow im such a genius 

You let out a snort at his cocky behaviour and reply back, letting him know that you were free yourself and to meet you at the school grounds at 2 pm. 

Saturday shows up as you wait outside the school gates, a picnic basket in hand. An all-black car with dark tinted windows zooms up to you. The window is pulled down and alas, the handsome boy sits in the driver’s seat, ushering you to get into the car with his hand. 

“Woah a picnic basket? Listen y/n you’re cool and all but this isn’t a date,” he speaks and notices you roll your eyes. A smug smile tugging his lips. 

“No you asshole, I have a plan with this.” 

“Tell me,” Jay begins to drive away from the school. The destination is unknown to you but extremely familiar to the boy next to you. 

“In here there is a bunch of food, in order for you to eat, you’re gonna have to say the name of the food in french.” He turns his head to see you looking back at him, a sweet smile places on your face. Jay has always known of you. You sat in the back of the classroom, handed in all your work on time and never skipped a class. You had very few friends and always seemed to be lost in a dream world when you weren’t working. Jay had never been able to speak to you personally as you always avoided him but know he has the chance to actually talk to you, and he doesn’t wanna mess it up. 

The car stopped at the edge of a giant grassy field. The greenery going miles ahead. Trees surrounding the two of you. Jay like a gentleman runs out of the car to open the door for you. You blush at his actions, thanking him silently by smiling at him. 

He directs you to a small spot under a tree. You lay out a blanket for you to sit on while Jay leans up against the tree. You tell him to sit down next to you as you bring out all the little snacks to share with him. He thinks that he could get used to this. 

“D’accord, commençons! Qu'est-ce que ç'est?” (okay, lets start! What is this?) 

You pick up a grape. He thinks for a little bit before answering. “Un raisin.” (a grape) You clap with glee and hand him over the grape. A silence falls between you both, unaware of how to keep going. He picks up a strawberry and brings it to your face. “Tu aime les fraises?” (do you like strawberries?) You eye him for a second, for someone who said he only knows how to ask how to go the bathroom in french, he knows quite a bit. You nod a little, opening your mouth and letting him feed you the sweet fruit. Your face matches the colour of the strawberry and he giggles. You pull out a sandwich and ask him to describe what’s in it. 

“Dans le sandwich, il y a du jambon, du beurre, et de la tomate.” (in the sandwich there is some ham, some butter, and some tomato.) He speaks confidently. 

“Trés bien Jay! Tu es bon en parler francias!” (very good Jay! You are really good at speaking French!) 

“Merci, mon Cheri.” (Thank you, my dear.) you blush even more before and shy away from Jay’s gaze. Jay being the very bold guy that he is, placing his hand underneath your jaw, forcing you to meet his eyes. You both just stare at each other as the sun sets behind you. Was Jay always this beautiful? His eyes scan over your face seeking for any discomfort, none is to be found. So he makes the move and starts to lean in. You already have your eyes closed and lips puckered out, ready to embrace a feeling you’ve never felt before.

His breath fans over your lips and just before he kisses you he asks “je peux t’embrasser? (can I kiss you?) you eagerly nod and whisper out “embrasse-moi.” (kiss me.) Jay finally places his lips on yours and everything feels right. Your hands find their way to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss. You stay in this position with him for a little while before you pull back for air. Both his hands cradle your face, his thumb rubbing across the apples of your cheeks.

“I still have a lot to learn y’know?” Jay breaks the silence. You laugh out loud, falling into his lap. 

“Same time next week then yeah?” He lets out a ‘hmm’ and watches you rest your head against his thigh, playing with the ends of your hair. ‘Maybe France could wait a little’ he thought. 

[bubblesuga]

Once In A Lifetime

Summary: Yoongi is a pain in your ass, but sometimes that's okay. What's a cafe job without a little drama?

genre: college!au tags: smut, fluff, mutual masturbation, cream pie, dirty talk W/C: 4,740 a/n: i have a weak spot for blond yoongi

You seethe silently while you stare at the schedule on the pin board in the back room. You begged your boss, damn near pleaded on your knees in front of her not to schedule you with him.

Its hard enough to close with only two people but fuck, if it isn't impossible when you're with Min Yoongi.

Don't get it wrong, Yoongi has a knack for customer service and he's quite good at making coffee but for some reason-- when the two of you were completely alone-- he became unbearably annoying.

It's like the moment the open sign turns off, he forgets how to work. While you're in the back cleaning dishes, sweeping the kitchen, counting cash drawers, taking out the garbage and everything else involved with closing, Yoongi turns on his speaker and plays whatever song he's been working on recently.

Okay, sure. This job isn't the most important thing on the planet. You both are just trying to get a little extra cash while you push through college, but you'll be damned if you get paid the same while you do all the work.

"Kati!" you yell from the back, your arms crossed and your nails digging into each of your biceps. You hear footsteps behind you, causing you to turn around expecting to see Kati.

Unfortunately for you, Yoongi leans in the doorway with a smirk on his face, "Awe, we're closing together again!"

"Awe we're closing toget-" you begin to mock but end up giving up and allowing your frustration to take over, "shut up, Yoongi."

"Don't seem so glum, sugar plum. I promise I'll be a good boy and listen to you." His words were too sweet to be true, they were laced with his famous sarcasm which only made you want to yell at him more.

Before you have the chance to counteract his sarcasm, he taps your back lightly before turning around and walking back out.

If there was one thing you did enjoy about him, it was the view of him when he walked away.

As the hours pass, eventually you and Yoongi are the last ones there. When Seokjin said goodbye, you silently pleaded that he would stay for just a little while longer. He gave you a slight apologetic look, glancing at Yoongi before shaking his head and walking out.

A groan leaves your lips.

It's only 9:30, you still have half an hour until the shop closes and there's way too many pastries left over.

Yoongi stands behind you, silently wiping down the coffee machines and humming along to whatever song was playing over the loud speakers.

Leaning back against the counter, you cross your arms and watch Yoongi for a moment. In a dark denim apron and slim black shirt, it feels as though the uniform was made for Yoongi. You can tell he's been working out lately, his muscles are more defined beneath the fabric of his shirt. It's killing you that despite being as annoying as he is, he's still immensely attractive and he knows it.

The snapback rests backwards on his head, blond hair poking out subtly. He turns, meeting your eyes for a moment which causes you to turn away quickly. It's quiet for a while again.

"I don't think anyone is going to come in," Yoongi breaks the silence, "I doubt Kati would mind if we closed early."

"I think she would. She said she gets a rush in the last 15 minutes so we should be prepared for that."

"We're not going to get a rush, we're a coffee shop and it's almost 10pm on a Monday."

"I'm not disobeying Kati just so you can play your shitty music and do nothing while I close."

"Shitty," he scoffs, "my music is hardly shitty, and I do help close. Who do you think cleans the front?"

"Wiping down espresso machines isn't the hardest part of closing." Maybe you're being a bit too harsh. Maybe you're trying to cover up the fact that he caught you staring at him earlier.

Yoongi sets the yellow rag down on the counter, turning to you fully, "I also sweep and mop up here. It's kinda hard to do anything else when your coworker does everything else. Ya ever think of delegating, huh?"

You feel your eye twitch. Just as you're about to respond, the bell above the door rings and you instantly wipe away your anger and throw your best customer service face on.

"Hi, good evening! What can I get for you today?"

As you help the customer, Yoongi walks to the back.

You make her coffee, heat her Panini, and speak with her for a moment about the aromatics of the freshly ground coffee beans that you had become used to. You didn't have the heart to tell her that you didn't smell it anymore, so you talked about how that was your favorite part about working in a cafe.

When she leaves, you realize it's finally time to close.

Switching off the open sign, you open the cash drawers and begin counting. Anything extra goes into the safe, and it seems as though everything was in place tonight.

In the back, you can hear Yoongi moving around and you don't question what he's doing.

Cleaning, sweeping, and mopping... Eventually you finish the front and move to the back but you stop suddenly.

Yoongi isn't playing his music.

Raising an eyebrow, you push open the door to the back and see that the kitchen is completely spotless.

Yoongi puts the last of the dirty dishes away and turns to you, "Don't worry, princess. I did it just the way you like it."

"T- thank-" you stutter but you're not able to finish your sentence before Yoongi pushes past you and walks out the door. The bell rings and you realize that he's left. The two of you managed to close in under 20 minutes.

You can't help but feel a sense of guilt wash over you. You definitely we're being a bit too harsh, and it seems to have affected Yoongi more than you thought it would.

Sighing, you push a hand through your hair and walk out the door.

Your drive home is silent. You're not one to overthink, especially when it comes to Yoongi, but you feel the need to apologize.

After your nightly routine, you plop into bed and glance at your phone. It doesn't take much to make you open your contact list.

(Y/N) sent 10:55

hey. just wanted to apologize for calling your music shitty. for the record, it's not. you're pretty good.

Your phone dings quickly.

Yoongi received 10:56

no need to be sorry, i know i'm good.

You don't respond, rolling your eyes and tossing your phone onto the night stand.

~*~*~

Closing the next day was much more simple than before. Yoongi did the back again, but this time you could hear his music playing again.

The beats are much more incredible than you'd ever admit to him in person. His voice speaks melodically to the music, drowning out your thoughts. You find yourself tapping your foot to the beat as you finish cleaning up the front.

The song finishes and there's a sudden change of pace.

Instead of a strong bass line and incredible drum work, a piano plays through.

Your interest is piqued, your legs carrying you to the back where Yoongi stands. He doesn't notice you, allowing the song to continue to play.

"This is gorgeous." you murmur, and a switch flips in Yoongi.

His hands, though soaked with water and soap, reaches up and turns off the speaker. He turns to you, panicked, "N- no one is supposed to hear that one. I didn't realize it was so loud."

"So you're telling me you just...listen to your own music?"

"Well, no," for the first time, you see a blush creep across Yoongi's face, "I play certain songs for you, and there's certain songs that are just for me."

"You play songs for me?" Any resentment you had towards the man dissipated in an instant. Instead, butterflies swarmed in your tummy. Butterflies for him.

He scratches the back of his neck, "Well, I don't play them for me. I want you to see how good I am."

"Humble," you hum, giggling slightly. Yoongi seems taken aback by the sound but doesn't get a chance to dwell as you continue to speak, "why can't I listen to this song?"

Yoongi sighs, "It's embarrassing."

"Let me listen," you begin to walk towards the speaker but Yoongi puts his hands on your shoulders to hold you back, "come on, Yoongi."

Yoongi doesn't give, but you manage to slip passed his hands and fall against his chest. He chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist and waddling you backwards. In a last ditch effort, you attempt to reach passed him but his grip on you is surprisingly strong.

"No, no, Princess. That song is for me and me only."

The nickname has a stronger affect on you than usual.

"But..." you stick your bottom lip out in a fake pout, "I wanna hear the softer side of Min Yoongi."

Yoongi's eyes dart to your lips, licking his own. You're suddenly aware of just how close Yoongi is keeping you, his cologne filling your nose. He's cute from this angle, his nose is rounded and is tinged with red at the tip. His eyes, though dark, are brighter than usual. He smiles softly, a gentle giggle falling from his lips.

"I can't tell you how many times I've wanted you this close to me." Your heart melts at his words, and you look down to the way your chests are pressed against each other.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you question.

He smiles, "I did, you just didn't listen since you were so preoccupied with your little closing routine."

"My little closing routine makes the opener's life so much easier." you defend, trying to distract yourself from the way his hands sit at the base of your spine, playing gently with the hem of your shirt.

"I'm sure the opener is very concerned with the fact that you make sure you set the forks before the spoons and the knives right after." Yoongi whispers, his tone joking but his eyes glazing over. Even in the horrendous white lighting of the kitchen, he looks beautiful.

"Bite me, Yoongi."

Yoongi bares his teeth and scrunches his nose, "If you insist."

Without wasting a second, Yoongi's mouth latches onto your lips. You gasp into the kiss, but Yoongi's grip tightens and holds you closer.

To say your stomach exploded into butterflies would be an understatement. Your entire body lit up like a Christmas tree, heat radiating from your skin because Yoongi was everywhere. His hands were large, slipping underneath the hem of your shirt and resting on your lower back. He didn't stray any higher or lower, simply planting himself in one spot while his lips continued their attack on yours.

He smiles against your lips, taking them away only to begin his reign over your jaw line and down your neck. Then, he nips.

One.

Two.

Three.

By the fourth, his teeth are biting at your collarbones, but his hands have not moved from your back. You mewl above him, desperately clinging to his arms. Damn your neck for being so sensitive.

"Yoongi," you breathe, "touch me, Yoongi."

"I am touching you." He murmurs stubbornly against your skin.

You whine, "Your hands, Yoongi."

"Hmm," he hums, chuckling, "I like when you say my name."

Suddenly his hands drop down to your ass, kneading it through the thin fabric of your work leggings. He pulls himself back up to your face, planting his lips against yours again as you moan into his mouth.

Yoongi slips his hands between the two of you, hooking his fingers beneath the band of both your leggings and your panties.

"Are we really about to fuck in the kitchen?" You ask, your chest heaving.

Yoongi leans back, taking a second to assess the situation. "You're right, my apartment?"

"No, your car."

"Dirty girl," he grins, taking his keys out of his pocket, "I'll turn off all the lights. Go get ready for me."

You nod, grabbing his keys and walking out of the door. As you're about to reach the front door, it already swings open and Kati waltzes in completely unexpectedly.

Panicked, your eyes go wide and you halt just before leaving from behind the counter. Kati glances up from her phone, "Ah, perfect, is Yoongi still here?"

Swallowing, you nod carefully.

"Great, I need to talk to you both," she turns towards the kitchen, "Yoongi! Get your ass up here!"

Closing your eyes, you pray to god that he's composed himself a little more than you have. Sure enough, he walks from the kitchen and seems just as nonchalant as ever, "Yes, boss?"

"So, I need you two to close for the next couple weeks together. Jackson quit and Woojin can't work nights."

"...and?" Yoongi questions.

She seems slightly taken aback, "Well, I need to make sure you two won't kill each other."

Both you and Yoongi hold back laughter.

Resting his arm softly on your shoulder, Yoongi's skin is still hot against yours, "No promises, boss."

"I'm serious," she scolds, "It's only a couple weeks then I'll never schedule you two alone again."

"Yes ma'am." you put your hand up in a salute.

Working alone with Yoongi for 2 weeks? What could possibly go wrong?

Kati smiles, "Alright then. I'm gonna grab the money from the safe then I'll let you two get back to closing."

You two silently watch Kati unlock the safe beneath the register, taking out the deposits from today. Yoongi's arm hasn't left your shoulder, his fingers brushing lightly against your collarbone. When you turn over to him, his face showing no emotion but his hands doing more to you than you could ever imagine.

Kati turns back, "Okay, be here at 2 tomorrow. Thank you!"

As she walks out, Yoongi's arm falls from your neck.

You turn to him, raising an eyebrow as he wipes his brow.

"I was shitting bricks." Yoongi says, causing you to tilt your head. "Why?"

"You have hickeys all over your neck."

Your eyes widen, your hand flying to your neck, "Yoongi! Do you know how fucking bad that could have been?"

"I know, that's why I covered your neck." He explains, gesturing with just as wild eyes.

"No, no-" you shake your head, "We almost fucked in the kitchen, Yoongi. That's not okay."

"But we were gonna go to my car!" Yoongi's shoulders slump and his mouth is agape in confusion.

"Imagine if she had walked in when your tongue was down my throat."

"Well I would have asked her to join."

"Yoongi!"

"I'm kidding, you know I only have eyes for you babe." He steps closer, leaning forward to press a kiss against your lips once again. You pull away, shaking your head.

Despite the fact that it was taking everything in you not to kiss him again, not to giggle at his lighthearted jokes and just follow him to his car, you knew that you had to practice self-discipline otherwise no work would ever get done with Yoongi.

"Are you upset?" Yoongi seems hurt.

"No," you sigh, "I just don't think it's a good idea for us to do anything here."

Yoongi straightens his back, clearing his throat and adjusting his clothes, "Right. Wouldn't want anyone's coffee getting out late because we're in the back fucking."

"Right." you whisper.

Yoongi smiles softly, "Doesn't mean I won't imagine it."

"Such a gentleman," you roll your eyes, bending down to grab your bag, "I'll see you tomorrow."

~*~*~

"Can I get an Dirty Chai with oatmilk, Yoongi?"

It's the first time you had one of those late night rushes that Kati was talking about. There's a line out the door, drunk college students desperate for some sort of carbs to soak up the alcohol. Yoongi is running back and forth from the panini press to the espresso machine while you grabbed pastries and muffins for what seemed like hours.

It being busy hasn't distracted you enough from the past couple of days with Yoongi.

Yoongi has respected the boundary you set-- for the most part. Walking passed you in the small space behind the counter, his hands brush along your back, a trail of heat following his fingertips. Though it's not the most intense of touches, there's a sensuality of it that leaves you nearly a panting mess.

Your conversations have been more open, you continue to ask him about his music and he wonders aloud about your studies. He learned that you were a history major, specializing in paleontology. Ever since then, he likes to ask questions about random dinosaurs. It's certainly cute, because you can tell he's genuinely interested but he's only interested because you're the one telling him.

You still haven't been able to listen to that song that he started, and he insist its because its not good enough for the rest of the world to hear it yet. You're sure its finished, he's just not ready for you to hear what it's about. Something tells you you're getting close though.

Yoongi turns around a few moments after your request, setting a Dirty Chai on the counter. You call out the customer's name and smile as you hand it to her.

"Swap me, babe. My hands are shaking."

Oh yeah, the pet names have evolved as well.

"Shaking?" you question, but you don't have enough time to dwell as the panini press dings and you're rushing to the other side of the front.

Sure enough, as you glance back Yoongi's hands are shaking while he begins handing out pastries.

Finishing up a few more coffees, you call out customer names and the dining room begins to clear out. The line is gone and a few groups sit in the dining room, eating their food.

The second that Yoongi hands the last pastry out, he walks to the back without saying a word to you.

Glancing at the customers, you swallow and follow him.

When you enter the kitchen, Yoongi's taking deep breaths against the sink. He doesn't notice you, so you lean opposite him against the counter.

Leaning forward, you rest your hands on either side of Yoongi's face, forcing him to look you in the eye.

"That was a lot of people." Yoongi breathes.

"It was, but we kicked ass." you reassure him, but his breathing doesn't slow down.

"I think I'm having an anxiety attack," he explains, "can you hug me? P- pressure helps calm down the fight or flight response and-"

You don't allow him to finish, pulling him close to you and wrapping your arms tightly around him. His face buries itself into your neck, his breath fanning raggedly over your skin. It takes him a few moments, but his breathing slowly begins to calm, his heart rate slowing against your chest.

"If its ever getting to much for you just let me know and I'll fly solo for a little bit." you speak softly, your hand moving up to stroke the back of Yoongi's head.

"I can't do that to you," he sighs, "I'm sorry you have to see me like this."

"No, I get it," your nails begin to scratch his scalp gently, "a lot of drunk people wanting food is overwhelming, especially when their patience is non-existent. If you ever need to take a breather then I won't get mad."

"You already hate closing with me, I don't want to make it worse."

Your heart breaks.

"No, I don't hate closing with you. I think I was just trying to hide my feelings." You never expected to say this to him, but at this point you'll do anything to make him feel better.

He pulls away from your neck, a shy smile on his face. He has done a complete 180 from two nights ago.

"You have feelings for me?"

"Well, I certainly feel something." You look down, hyper aware of how close he is to you.

He grins, leaning down and pressing a soft, quick kiss to your lips. Before the conversation can go any further, the bell dings open and both of you jump apart, moving to the front to help yet another customer.

The rest of the night went by much more smoothly than earlier.

Yoongi turns on his music in the front while you do the dishes in the back. He's playing his usual mix, and you find yourself humming along to the songs as they come.

It's not until you're almost finished do you hear the familiar piano notes begin to play. Peaking your head out of the kitchen, Yoongi holds the speaker in his hands and watches you carefully. Slow melodies play out underneath his gentle voice, the lyrics portraying the man's first love.

You cross your arms, soaking in the lyrics as much as you can. His face is red as more emotion plays out. It doesn't take you long to realize that what you're listening to is the personification of Yoongi's passion. A conversation is held between him and the piano, and Yoongi sets flame to it all.

When the song comes to a close, you don't move, or breathe, or speak.

"Oh my god, say something!"

You look up, meeting Yoongi's scared eyes.

"When you become famous can I sell your autograph on ebay?"

Yoongi laughs, "Yeah, you can sell it."

You don't think of a witty response. Instead, you walk towards him and hug him once again. Resting your head on his shoulder, you two sway for a moment, almost dancing with the air. The atmosphere of the empty cafe has become much more calming than it was before.

His hands dance along your spine, "You know, I've never shown anyone that song before."

"I'm glad that my insistence made me the first." you tease, inhaling Yoongi's cologne. He certainly knows how to smell good.

"Your insistence, yes," he starts, "but also your impeccable ability to strengthen my confidence."

"Awe, does Yoongi have a soft spot for me?" you try your best to hide the way his smile is making your heart flutter.

"Always have." He murmurs, his lips kissing the tip of your nose.

"We're not very good at the whole 'not-kissing-at-work' thing." you giggle, feeling his grip tighten.

"I don't want to be good at it."

He doesn't allow you to respond before his lips are on yours once again. Against them, he smirks, "Shall we go to my car tonight?"

"God yes."

With steamy windows and Yoongi's hot body on top of yours, you both completely forget about your surroundings. His back seat is incredibly comfortable, your head resting on his shirt while he nips along your stomach and down to your hips.

It didn't take long for the two of you to move, you listening to Yoongi's every silent demand as he taps your hip to signal you to lift them.

Smiling, he murmurs a soft, "Good girl." before sliding your leggings and panties off in one go.

Now fully exposed, goosebumps raise under your skin. Yoongi is slow moving, his tongue drawing circles on your pelvic bone before biting down harshly. You gasp, your back arching into him.

"How long have you been this wet?" Yoongi asks, his fingers moving forward to collect your arousal. He slips through your folds, pushing a single finger into your aching heat.

You can't formulate a response to his question, because he begins a tormentingly slow thrust into your head, curling his finger upward.

Dipping his head down, his lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks.

Your hips jerk against him, but the pleasure doesn't play out for long before his pulling away.

"I don't want you to cum yet," he chuckles when you whine, standing and unbuckling his belt, "I just needed to make sure you were ready."

"And what?" you bite playfully, "you gonna pull out a huge snake or some shit?"

"I don't think so," Yoongi responds, sliding his pants down his legs, revealing his cock, "it's alright."

It's more than alright. Your mouth waters over the sight, twitching slightly from his arousal. It's curved upward, the tip already a hot red and leaking precum. His hand wraps around the base of it, stroking it slowly. Out of habit, you slide your middle and ring fingers into your mouth, sliding them down your body and to your clit.

You eyes don't pull themselves away from the way Yoongi is skillfully touching himself, thumb running along the tip and a string of saliva falling from his mouth to the tip of his cock.

"You like watching me touch myself?" He asks, his voice significantly deeper than it was before. You nod, not looking away from his cock.

"Answer me." he takes his hand away from his cock and brings it to your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He's willing to sacrifice his own pleasure to get an answer out of you, and for some reason that only turns you on even more. You speed the movements on your clit, moaning softly while you look into Yoongi's eyes.

He clicks his tongue once he notices your movements, grabbing your wrist and dragging it up to his mouth. Licking your fingers clean, he grabs your other hand and holds both of your wrists against your pelvic bone, just out of reach of your heat. He likes playing games, and he likes to win.

"Yes," you finally manage, "yes I like watching you jerk off."

He grins, a gummy grin that makes him seem much more innocent than he is. The words are dirty falling from your tongue but it only seems to heighten the fire in Yoongi's eyes.

"Good," he says, gripping his cock again and thrusting into his hand, "should I let you cum just from watching me?"

Your wrists twitch in his other hand, "P- please."

"Okay, whatever you want princess."

He lets go of your hands and your fingers fly to your clit, desperately rubbing harsh circles while he continues to stroke himself.

As his pace speeds up, he begins to let out soft, subtle moans. Your chest heaves at the sounds, hands shaking while you push yourself even closer to the edge.

"Louder, Yoongi," you beg, "please."

Yoongi bites his bottom lip briefly, a small whimper falling from his mouth while you arch your back, the heat in your abdomen growing stronger and stronger.

Yoongi's hand stops suddenly, "Where do you want me to cum?"

You grin mischievously, gesturing to your core.

Yoongi's eyes widen, crawling closer to you and leaning down, "You want me to cum in your pussy?"

You nod frantically.

"Who would have thought my pretty princess was such a dirty girl."

"Just fuck me, Yoongi." you whine, pushing your heat towards him. Yoongi does just that, slipping his cock into you. You instantly clamp around him, causing his hips to stutter deeper into you.

He gains his rhythm quickly, not holding back as he holds your hips into his back seat and pounds into you harshly.

A deep growl erupts from his chest at your small whimpers, an almost primal instinct taking over him as he leans down to kiss you. The second his lips touch yours, you gasp and feel yourself release. A loud moan of his name falls from your lips as you come undone, pushing his hips into yours with your heels.

Yoongi follows suit quickly, his release coating your walls and his head collapsing onto your chest.

"Holy fuck." He says after a minute, his mouth agape while he tries to catch his breath.

"Better than you imagined?" You feel proud of yourself for having such a huge affect on Yoongi. It's not often does he seem caught off guard.

"Way better," he replies, "the best I've ever had."

You run your nails over his scalp again, feeling him shiver against you, "Maybe if you take me out, you'll be able to have it again."

Yoongi pulls his head up, "When, where, what time?"

"I'll leave that up to you," you smile, "let's just cuddle for now."

"Don't have to tell me twice."

[humanransome-note]

Week of nov. 16-a rant in three days and many bullet points

Monday

my aunt picked me up. She had been exposed to COVID and told me as such. We took all necessary precautions on the drive home—open car windows, she wore an N95, we didn’t hug or anything. But honestly I am not concerned at the time, she had been exposed to COVID several times, and even when my uncle, her husband who she lives with caught it twice, she did not.

Tuesday

The day is sort of okay, but the other cashier/my cover for lunch is late. I mention this to my manager and she says “Oh Alexis isn’t late, she was moved to 3-9” My shift ends at 2 and I should’ve had “lunch” at about 11. At this point it is already 12:30.

No one told me about this shift change.

We have a rush, so I can’t leave for my very late lunch. (Like I’m allowed to leave, but my anxiety and “work ethic” won’t let me)

Rush ends, it’s 1:30 give or take.

“Hey, would you mind staying until about 3-3:30?”

My aunt texted me she wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t pick me up so I said sure.

Don’t pick up my phone again until 3:00.

Aunt: I tested positive, isolation for the next five days.

Wednesday

I tell my manager, who has noticed I’m wearing a face mask today, what happened. She said to keep her updated on how I’m feeling.

So I start my day as I usually do, look for petty things to occupy my time until a customer comes up to buy something.

First customer comes up, and the register is a bit slower than usual, at this point I just think it’s cause it had a reboot earlier.

‘‘Twas not the case.

For the entire day, the main register “my register” was slower than usual. Like it would take a good twenty seconds for rung items to show up on screen. I would scan a coupon and instead of the fun little woosh of discounts the whole thing just froze before all the information popped up on screen.

In the distance of the line, I see a woman.

A woman who, I swear to good, just grabbed the fucking display rack of frame ornaments and put them in her cart.

Eight (8) pegs, twelve (12) ornaments each.

And these aren’t all the same ornament, they’re the same price but not the same ornament.

So, doing what I think is logical, I move over to the “Manager register” the good register, with the scanning gun that doesn’t throw a fit every ten seconds, rebooting with its little ”doot doot doto” every time something knocks it, the one that scans receipt barcodes unlike mine where I have to type in the string of numbers on top. Roughly forty (40) digits.

So as I’m scanning this woman’s items(she had more than just 96 photo frame ornaments) my manager shouts at me from over the wall/shelf thing that separates me from the rest of the store.

“That’s the manager’s register, you can’t use it.”

I try to explain the issue, but I’ve got a woman in front of me, recounting her NINTY-SIX ORNAMENTS and a fucking line. I do not have the time or the patience to explain to her that my register likely needs a reboot, and that I couldn’t just do a quantity override, and that even if I did I didn’t know where she was and/or how long it would take for her to get to the front. So after just shouting “I know!” Because again I’m wearing a face mask and I already mumble, I turn around and finish this woman’s transaction, before moving back to my shitty register.

My lunch was supposed to be noon today, you already know I didn’t take it at noon. 1:36 actually, and my shift ended at 3.

Now, the other cashier, decent lady, used to be a bartender. Fucked up her feet, good and proper nerve damage. Today was apparently a bad pain day, something I was unaware of until I attempted to for once in this fucking job not leave 10-20 minutes after my shift was supposed to end and actually on fucking time.

Other cashier is doing something, and a customer is walking up to the register, I’ve got my shit and I am ready to go!

“Could you get this customer for me please?”

I do, because of course I do.

A line forms behind this customer and I check out like three others after her.

And once that wave of people is done and she has logged out of the other register to pick up the “main register” (“my register”) she snaps at me about how I always leave it a mess and that she can’t keep cleaning up after me.

The rejection sensitive dysphoria punched me pretty hard after hearing that.

And I won’t claim to be the cleanest person, okay? I’ll admit that.

But I don’t ever really have time to clean after that first customer. There’s a hierarchy of what I should be concerned with.

Buy online, pick up in store- I have to bag and tag these items before putting them on their shelf. And now we have to update how we do this because people were getting their stuff stolen (sort of obvious that would happen) and I can’t update the pick up lists myself. Only the new scanners can do that and only the managers have the new scanners.

Tear up old frames packaging a certain way so we can use it to wrap up fragile objects

Sales fliers- these things are sent to us by corporate, I have to (on semi-regular occasion) empty out the old sleeves, and put in the new flier.

Soda/fridge/candy- you know how stores have like a fridge or two of water, soda, and sometimes energy drinks? Yeah, I gotta keep that stocked, and unfortunately the most effective way of doing it requires removing the shelves. Also the impulse candy need to be maintained.

Clearence tagging- what it says on the tin.

So for me, personally, a guy who barely picks his foot off of the ground when he walks and needs to take a few steps to actually get in the rhythm of walking. Not leaving a barely ten by three foot rectangle of space for roughly 5-6 hrs a day means I don’t really worry about what’s on the floor, I’m more likely to kick it than I am to step on it.

And again, it fades into the background.

She has been working here for about half as long as I have, and several days she had to move to the main register after me. At no point, did she bring up my station maintenance until today. I pick shit up off the floor when I leave (most of the time, I won’t say I haven’t forgotten because it’s possible I have.)

And there’s always a bunch of shit behind me, stacked or in baskets, because I can’t go put returns back on the shelves myself (even though I’d love that to be my job) because usually until 11 I can’t leave the registers alone, and then there’s damn near always a fucking customer.

I would love to walk around with a cart a scanner and maybe the clearance gun all day, picking shit up and putting it back while also occasionally helping customers sounds actually pretty decent.

Anyway my shift is finally over, I can go home and I do and when I see there’s an alert from my banking app I pop it open to find…

My order for @krissology ‘s Forget me Not and @brandyllyn ‘s Love Nor Money did not go through because of overdraft.

I feel most comfortable wearing Ren fair garb, and that shit is expensive.

I fixed the issue, but that changed the arrival date to a day I would be working and I do not like the idea, of two books I desperately want to read, being left out on my stoop to be stolen or rained upon.

So I had to cancel the order for now.

And that’s been my week so far folks!

[rosiehrs]

hourglass | jisoo

group ; blackpink 

genre ; slight fluff, angst

au ; highschool! au, soulmates! au

pairing ; student!jisoo / fem!reader

summary ; jisoo's soulmate turned out to be the last person she wanted and she had to face the consequences.

warnings ; death, slight mention of incest, swearing

a/n ; originally posted on my wp! one of my fav works hehe, also just something to feed you guys while i complete the requests!! hope u like it as much as i do, not proofread x

word count ; 5.4k

hourglass. we all get an hourglass when we reach 18,, the hour glass doesn't just last for an hour, it ends when you meet your soulmate. we all have a mark, a birthmark, if you will ; whenever your hourglass runs out, your birthmark stings and slightly glows.

my 18th birthday was just one week away. that's all i thought about during the first 20 minutes of me waking up.

"bae y/n! hurry the fuck up and get out of bed before i drag you by your teeth." my sister, bae joohyun or irene, said from the living room. "ugh, fine!" i replied, getting out of the covers. i brushed my hair and quickly got changed into my uniform. i then ran downstairs to see my older sister in the living room. "your breakfast is in the kitchen, now hurry up before we're both late." she said, watching tv. i nodded and walked into the kitchen, seeing a plate full of pancakes. i punched the air in happiness and started digging in.

—

irene and i walked into school together, talking about our upcoming exams. she looked up and saw her friend group, "ayt, kiddo. i'm gonna leave you now, don't get into trouble or i'll rip your hair out." she said in a sweet tone, kissing the side of my head. she then walked away, leaving me dumbfounded. i blinked a few times before going to find my friends, "how the actual hell is she my sister.." i mumbled to myself.

"hey hoes!" you greeted your friends, jumping on lisa's lap. "hey, y/n~" they replied. "what's going on today? anything spicy?"

"fuck yeah, chanyeol and seungwan's hourglass ran out and their marks glowed. then seungwan full on slapped his hourglass out of his hand. the shit broke and now,, no soulmates for them! man, i wonder which one of them dies.." namjoon said, gesturing. my eyes widened, "wait– what? what do you mean?" they all laughed at me, "awh, y/n's still a baby. when your hourglass gets broken on purpose by your own soulmate, then poof, you won't have a soulmate." jaehyun explained. "oh! and one of them dies. most likely," chaeyeon continued, excitedly.

"i- diES??" i asked. "yes, y/n, dies." lisa said, holding your waist. "hoLD THE FUCK UP, SINCE WHEN? AND HOW ARE YA'LL SO CHILL ABOUT THIS??" i asked, freaking out. they shrugged, "meh, i mean, we all die some day?" yoongi replied, chewing on his food. "bRUH, one of them is about to fuCKING DIE! they're like my best friends too, you know!"

"welp, go and.. spend time with them then, i don't know–" the bell rang and they all scattered to class. lisa and i sat there, me still trying to process everything. "y/n/n, you good?"

"lisa, i'm so gonna die." i said, blankly, making her laugh. "oh shut up, i bet you and your soulmate will live happily every after, now come on." she stood up and held her hand out for me, i grabbed it and we walked to science class. lisa and i were babbling on about the other things about soulmates until someone bumped into me.

"dude, watch where the fuck you're go– y/n, y/n, y/n. what a surprise, being a clumsy ass all the time." jisoo smiled, making me roll my eyes. "for your information, you were the one who bumped into me?" i replied, making her scoff. "talking back? kinda new from the bae y/n, what made you–"

"jisoo, stop. she doesn't have time to deal with your bullshit." lisa said, cutting her off. "come on, lisa. we're just having some fun, right, y/n?" she replied, shoving me. "ayt, that's it–" i was about to jump her until lisa pulled me back and our discipline teacher, ms choi came around the corner. "miss bae, miss kim. are you two really doing this again?"

"i- miss choi, i was just messing around with y/n, but she was being a sensitive brat and started to jump at me–" miss choi, sighed. "can you two stay away from each other for a while? it's only monday and i really don't have the energy to deal with you two right now."

the three of us bowed as she walked away. "that's it, bae. it's simple, stay away from me and we both get out of trouble." jisoo smiled. "i hate you so much, kim." i replied, making her giggle. "trust me, y/n. if i told you i hated you with everything in me, that would still be an understatement." she walked into class while i stood there, pissed. "brUH, WHY THE FUCK DOES SHE EXIST–" lisa shushed you, "be quiet and calm down, okay?"

"how the actual fuck am i supposed to calm down? she's so fucking annoying and ugh!" i complained. "y/n, hush. you can be just as annoying" i scoffed at her, "hOW? ME? AS ANNOYING AS KIM JISOO? pFFT YOU'RE FUNNY" she rolled her eyes at me as we walked in the classroom.

jisoo and i had quite a lot of history with each other. our parents were good friends, which resulted in both of our families spending a lot of time with each other. having dinners, having to sleepover at jisoo's house, her having to sleepover at my house, and just everything. but jisoo and i never got along, we would always quarrel and yell at each other. i tried my best to be friendly with her as our parents really wanted the two of us to get along. but the older girl made it so hard for me. she'd tease me, hurt me, make fun of me and would just be a whole brat.

unfortunately, the devil herself was seated behind me, so we spent the whole lesson bickering and dissing each other. "bruh~ can you like shut up for like 5 minutes?" i asked, making her flick the back of my head. "i should be saying the same to you, asshole."

—— no one's pov

"when are you gonna stop lying to yourself, unnie?" jennie asked jisoo as she was eating her lunch. "lying? about what?" she replied, her mouth full of food. "you. you like y/n," jennie continued, making jisoo choke on her food. "okay, i'm sorry, wHAT- aRE YOU STUPID? I'D NEVER LIKE THAT RAT, SHE'S DISGUSTING, BROKE, UNHYGIENIC, UG-"

"you're being too defensive, it's obvious now. you have feelings for bae y/n." seokjin teased, wiping his mouth. "i don't know how i'm friends with you idiots, i do not like bae y/n. in fact, i despise her. hate her, even. she's such a brat and if you think i'd have feelings for someone like her, you're stupid. my standards are not that low, got it?"

they all rolled their eyes, shaking their head. "what ever you say, noona, whatever you say." johnny replies.

"we were born the same year, why are you calling me noona-"

the bell rang and they all scattered off to class. "unnie, do you have your hourglass yet?" rosé asked, making jisoo nod. "i'm a year older than you, i'm already 19, kiddo." chaeyoung squinted her eyes, "so you've been waiting to meet your soulmate for over a year? yikes," jisoo smacked her head, "oh be quiet, i'm sure i'll meet them soon."

"who do you think it's gonna be?" chaeng asked. "do you think i know? there's over 7 billion people on this earth, how am i supposed to take a hunch and guess who it is?" jisoo replies, making rosé hold her hands up. "okay, okay, jeez, calm down~"

"see you after class, weirdo" the younger girl said, walking into her classroom. jisoo continued walking and saw you. she decided it was a good idea to fuck around with you a little, so she walked behind you and pinched your waist. you jumped in pain and turned around, "dude, what the fuck?"

jisoo smiled, bitterly before walking into the classroom. you groaned and did the same thing. you were walking to your seat until jaehyun stopped you and grabbed your wrist, "y/n/n, you turn 18 in 2 days, correct?" he asked, making you nod. "yes? why~?"

"hourglass." he simply replied and winked, before letting your wrist go. you looked at him weirdly and laughed. you got to your seat and glared at jisoo. you sat down and immediately got bothered by her. "jesus, when will you stop?!"

⌨︎︎ one day after

the day went by and the both of you hated each other even more.

thooouughhhhh, you do have a soft spot for the so-called brat. as much as you wanted to deny it, she was gorgeous and at times could be nice.

the day of school ended and you and your friends went over to your house to celebrate your 18th birthday. "y/n's gonna get her hourglass in exactly 7 hours, holy shit." jaehyun said, being dramatic. "oh, shut up." all 6 of you went over to your house, with their stuff to sleepover. "ayt, 6 hours and 35 minutes." jaehyun said, looking at his watch. "jUNG JAEHYUN, SHUT UP. I GET IT" you said pretending to cry. the others laughed, patting your back.

in the house with you, were

lisa, jaehyun, namjoon, chaeyeon and yoongi.

"okay we're gonna go downstairs, stay here for everlasting life." lisa, chaeyeon and yoongi ran downstairs leaving you with joon and jaeyuk.

"i have a feeling y/n's soulmate's gonna be a gORL" jaehyun said out of nowhere. "i- why so suddenly?" you asked, pretending to cry again. "i don't know, man. you kinda gay." he continued.

"okay, it's official. i'm disowning jaehyun." you said, sitting away from him. namjoon stood up and sat back down next to you, "i'm with you on that"

"i'm- come on, dudes! y/n is kinda gay."

"no you"

mEaNwHiLe~

chaeyeon, lisa and yoongi were attempting to bake a cake for y/n. notice how i said attempting.

"uhh.. 5 1/4 cups of flour." lisa said, staring at her phone and pouring the flour in the bowl.

"you mean 2?" yoongi asked.

"huh?"

"2 1/4 cups of flour." he replied.

"oh.. well shit."

"LISA-"

"i'M SORRY, I THOUGHT-"

"iDIOT"

"YOU SHOULD'VE TOLD ME SOONER-"

"ladies, ladies! let's settle this in an orderly manner, alright?" chaeyeon said, holding them both back. "did you just call me a lady-"

"yOU DILDOS, ITS CHAOS DOWN HERE. HURRY THE FUCK UP AND GEt yOUR SHIT TOGETHER! Y/N IS SUFFERING WITH JAEHYUN, SPARE HER" namjoon shouted, scolding them.

"SIR, YES, SIR!" they all shouted in unison, saluting. "that's better, now get to work!" namjoon ran back upstairs, going into your room. "back~ they just needed some adjustments."

"what are they doing anyways?" you asked. "honestly, i have no clue. but you'll find out later."

"wow, okay-"

"hm, yeah, definitely gay."

"jaehyun, if you call me gay one more time, i will slap the remaining brain cells out of your brain."

"the birthday girl is being so aggressive, sheesh." jaehyun said, shaking his head. "you two are kids, my god"

——

"5 MINUTES! 5 FUCKING MINUTES!" jaehyun yelled, making all of you laugh. you spent the last few hours bickering and playing games with your friends. lisa, yoongi and chaeyeon ran back downstairs as the clock was about to turn 12.

they came back with a cake, surprising you. "5, 4, 3, 2, 1, haPPY BIRTHDAY, Y/N!" they yelled, making you smile widely. "bLOW, mAKE A WISH." you closed your eyes and made a wish.

'i wish to be able to live a happy life with my soulmate.'

*blow*

"YAY!"

^dING DONG*

"tHATS HER HOURGLASS" jaehyun screamed. "gET DOWN THERE."

you ran downstairs and opened your front door. you were immediately greeted by a small box with your initials on it. you picked it up and ran back upstairs. "OOH, OOH OPEN IT!"

you opened the box and pulled your sacred hourglass out. "AWH, IM SORRY, Y/N. WE AREN'T SOULMATES" lisa apologised, making you laugh. "welp, i guess we gotta wait." all of you decided to call it a night – after eating the cake. obviously.

⌨︎︎ the day after y/n's pov

the six of us reached school together, bickering on the way. "oh, y/n/n, did you bring your hourglass today?" yoongi asked, making me shake my head. "no– should i have?"

"who knows? you might meet your soulmate at school. your mark only glows when you have your hourglass, mate. your soulmate might meet you and their mark glows, but then their hourglass is still going cuz you don't have yours. selfish rat." jaehyun replied, smacking my head.

"i'm- why the fuck am i only learning about this?"

"because you're uncultured, now let's get to class."

i was walking with lisa and jaehyun to our english class when someone pulled me back. "well if it isn't the birthday girl, happy birthday, sweetheart" jisoo smiled at me, making me roll my eyes. "thanks? but did you just-"

"i'm kidding, bae. i couldn't care less about your birthday and you are definitely not a sweetheart. i'm just excited for you to meet your soulmate and die."

"what the fuck is wrong with y-"

"fuck-" "ouch-"

jisoo and i yelled in pain at the same time. i looked down to my wrist and saw my mark glowing a bright white through my shirt, while jisoo looked at her waist, the same thing happening to her.

we then looked at each other in horror,

"nonono"

"wait, what the fuck"

jisoo rummaged through her bag finding her hourglass, "it's still running. why is my mark glowing"

i suddenly remembered what my friends had told me,

'you might meet your soulmate at school. your mark only glows when you have your hourglass, mate. your soulmate might meet you and their mark glows, but then their hourglass is still going cuz you don't have yours. selfish rat.'

'nonono, there's no fucking way that jisoo is my soulmate' i thought, panicking.

"where's your hourglass." jisoo asked, strictly. "a-at home." i replied. jisoo looked around to see if anyone else's marks were glowing. to her luck, there were two other people, looking just as shocked and confused as we were.

my sister joohyun and seokjin. "wait-"

"nah, look man. there's no way we're soulmates, i'm gay as fuck"

"w-wait, my hourglass is still going. and come on, lady, look at me. i'm gorgeous, hot, sexy. you're lucky if you had me as a soulmate." jin replied, pointing at himself.

"bae! kim! over here!" jisoo yelled, making them look at the both of us. seeing that we were in the same situation, they ran over. "okay, so there might be a small, itty bitty possibility that we have our soulmates mixed up right?" jisoo asked, making irene nod. "i mean, i guess, but the possibilities are that you're soulmates with y/n/n, jin or me. and the possibilities with jin are the same. y/n and i only have two possibilities because we're siblings"

"unless the world wants us to make incest a thing" i replied, smirking at her. she smacked my head, making me yelp. "ah! jeez, i was kidding, you rat"

"if it's jin and me, why haven't our hourglasses run out yet?" jisoo asked.

"but if it's me and irene, why haven't ours run out yet?"

"uh- you see.. my sister and i have a thing for leaving things at home – even when we're supposed to bring them.." she replied.

i shook your head, still processing everything.

"jesus, typical baes. bring your hourglasses tomorrow and we'll meet at the bleachers at exactly 8:40 am, you got it?" jisoo demanded, shocking all of you. "wow, ms bossy pants"

"shut the fuck up, y/n. my life is already ruined knowing that there's a slight chance that you're my soulmate." she hissed before walking away to class.

"weLL OUCH"

——

i did the same thing, walked to class with jaehyun and lisa babbling about what just happened. "yo, what the fuck do i do?" i asked panicking. "nothing, you're just gonna hope that your soulmate is jin or joohyun-"

"JIN, JUST JIN."

"yeah whatever."

after school ended, my sister and iwent back home babbling about our possible soulmates and kinda just fell asleep.

the next thing i knew, it was the next day and i had to get ready and bring our hourglasses.

"ayt, bleachers, bleachers, bleachers. FOUND THEM." we walked over to the bleachers with jisoo glaring at the both of us. "you're two minutes late."

"i- BRUH WHAT THE FUC-"

"both of you better shut up before i make you. it's so early in the morning, please don't argue now." right on cue, all our marks started glowing, making the four of us yelp in pain. in a hurry, i took your hourglass out, seeing it had just finished. i looked at all three of them seeing that the same happened to them. "ugh, how the fuck do we figure this out now?" jin asked.

"uh, okay. jin, go to the other side of the field with y/n and i go with irene. if our marks stop glowing, then we aren't with our soulmates, okay?" jisoo demanded, making us nod. seokjin grabbed my hand, running to the other side. i blushed slightly, kind of hoping that my soulmate was him. we reached the other side of the football field, panting. jin still hadn't let go of my hand. we both looked at our marks, the light slowly fading away. jin and i sighed at the same time, "listen, y/n. we might not be soulmates, but i kind of wished that were. whoever has you as his or her soulmate is lucky – i kinda wanna be jisoo right now" he laughed. i giggled, squeezing his hand, "i'm thinking the same thing, jinnie. but fuck, i'm gonna have to live with jisoo? my god" the both of us laughed at each other running back to the others. "well.. uhm.. i guess y/n and i are gonna do the same.." jisoo said, avoiding eye-contact. i nodded, awkwardly as irene and jin started to run away. jisoo and i walked to the other side, quietly. i grabbed her wrist before she could walk any further, "what do you wan-"

"why do you hate me so much? what did i ever do to you? all i've ever done was try to be your friend, why is that so bad?" i asked, angrily. she looked at me, shocked. i've never actually yelled at her before, so this might've been a shock to her. "i-i'm.. just shut up." she grabbed my hand and dragged me to the other side of the field. "jisoo, i mean it. we might be soulmates, you're gonna have to stop being an asshole to me sometime soon."

she ignored me and just kept walking, i sighed and let her drag me. at this point, we were on the other side, and our glows continued glowing. we looked at our hourglasses, seeing it was still the same state, it finished running. we looked at each other in fear,

"w-we're.. we're soulmates, jisoo." i whispered. she stood there, staring at your marks and hourglasses. "nono.. t-this.. it can't be. y/n, i can't fucking do this–"

"jisoo, you have no choice–"

"but i do" she said, confusing me. "j-jisoo?"

"FUCK, Y/N. THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!" she screeched, slapping my hourglass onto the floor. in almost slow motion, i watched it shatter, all the sand spilling everywhere. "JISOO-" before i could do anything, my mark started glowing a bright red, it felt like someone was burning me while sticking a knife into my stomach. i fell onto the floor, shocking jisoo. "oh my god, y/n!" she shouted, rushing to your side. "fuck, fuck, fuck. are you okay?" she asked, making me scoff. "r-really? you're gonna ask me if i'm okay? you literally just killed me. you fucking killed me, i'm gonna die because of your childishness and your stupid hatred towards me!" i yelled, the pain on my stomach eating me up. irene and seokjin started running towards us, "what the fuck?! what the fuck just happened?!" joohyun asked, obviously worrying about me. she looked down at the shattered glass and then looked back up at jisoo, "you did this, didn't you? huh?! you broke my sister's hourglass?! do you fucking know what's going to happen to her?! what the fuck is wrong with you!" she screamed, pushing jisoo harshly. jin pulled her back, trying to calm her down, "i-i'm–"

the bell then rang, making jisoo run off. irene and jin helped me stand up, i looked down at my hourglass sadly. "how long do i have left?" i asked, weakly. "u-usually around a week.." jin replied, sadly. "no, NO! there must be a way to fix it! y/n, you can't fucking die" irene said, tearing up slightly. i chuckled, "it's fine, unnie. i still have a week." she smacked my head, "don't joke around! you're gonna- no, you're not. i swear i'm gonna kill h-"

"no, no, you aren't. she doesn't want me as her soulmate and i understand that." i replied calmly. "y/n, because of her selfish ass, you're dying. i'm not letting you just– fuck. let's just get to class"

no ones pov

the whole day was spent with your friends crying and getting pissed by jisoo. jisoo avoided you the whole day, not even looking at you. the next day of school was just as sad and pathetic, but jisoo was regretting it. so bad.

"guys, there's gotta be a way to undo it. there fucking has to. i-i can't let her die.." jisoo said, crying in her hands. "unnie, why did you do it in the first place?" jennie asked, kind of angry at her older friend. "i-i.. thought that it would make my feelings go away, make me braver.. but it's just killing me inside. i love her and i don't know what to do."

right at that moment, you walked into the cafeteria weakly, holding onto lisa for support. jisoo immediately stood up and ran to you. "y/n!" she engulfed you into a tight hug, making lisa push her away. "what the fuck do you think you're doing?! do you think you can just do that after what you did to her?!"

"i- look, i need to talk to her"

"jisoo, back off. you've caused enough damage and now we're about to lose our friend." yoongi said, calmly. "guys, it's fine. let us talk.." you replied, quietly. the kim silently thanked you, grabbing your hand and bringing you somewhere private.

"talk." you said, strictly. "y/n, you have no idea how sorry i am. the whole thing was just me trying to show myself that i was strong, but it just made me feel and look like a coward. y/n, i love you. i really do and i'm sorry i wasn't able to let you know. i'm trying to do everything i can to fix it, i'm so so sorry, please forgive me"

"jisoo, i'm.. i have 4 days left. we've looked everything up and there's no way to fix it as of now. i- i'm not gonna say i forgive you, but.. i kind of do? i don't know. it's all good–"

"y/n, you're dying. it's not fucking okay! and it's all my fault, i'm- i won't- i can't live without you." you chuckled, making her look up at you. "jisoo, hush. i'm the one who can't live without you,, literally. till then.. let's uhm, have 4 days together?"

"not just 4 days, y/n-"

"jisoo, you need to understand that that's all i have left. there's not possible way to.. un-kill me.. lmao i'm funny." you giggled, making her smack your arm. "y/n! stop joking around! i-i'm gonna find a way, i-i promise."

"as i said a second ago–"

"ayt, talk's over. talk.. later or something, we're going to class." lisa said, dragging you. "b-but we have the same classes–" you started, but lisa ignored you and continued to drag you. "lisa–"

"bye jisoo~" she said, not looking back. the day was spent by lisa dragging you away from jisoo, which kind of irritated you, but you just brushed it off.

the few days after, you were just being your usual and cheerful self, also being able to talk to jisoo. our friend groups kinda merged into one after the two of you kept spending time with each other. "ayt, imma head home." you said, making everyone groan. "no~ just stay for a bit longer." mingi whined. you laughed at him and stood up, "i'll see you guys tomorrow." you said, smiling at them weakly.

'there is no tomorrow' you thought.

"yeah, okay. see you tomorrow, y/n/n! we all love you~ especially jisoo–" johnny said, making jisoo hit his arm. "oh wait, it is true, i don't know why i hit y-"

you kissed the too of jisoo's head, quietly telling her to stop babbling. you hugged and kissed ( cheeks shush ) all of them "bye losers"

"bye~!"

you turned around, grabbing your stuff and rushing off. tears started forming in your eyes knowing that it's your last time seeing them.

during the past few days, you've been trying to be as positive, funny and cheerful as possible. you hoped and wanted it to make your friends forget about your misfortune and short life. tomorrow is your last day, last day of breathing, last day of seeing, last day of hearing, last day of feeling. once tomorrow comes, you will just fade away as if you never existed. your parents and sister knew about it and how you didn't want any of your friends to remember, they respected your wish and kept their lips shut about it.

you arrived at home, your family members immediately bringing you into a tight embrace. "let's get you dressed, sweetie."

you took a shower and got dressed in your favourite hoodie and shorts. your parents and sister teared up whenever they looked at you smiling and laughing, their hearts ached knowing that after tomorrow, they wouldn't be able to hear your adorable and happiness-giving laugh and your beautiful smile that could bring light to universes. once night arrived, they covered you in kisses and showered you with love.

"goodnight, my beautiful star." you father said, caressing your hair as he used to do when you were younger. you smiled at him and held his hand. "goodnight, angel. we'll– we'll see you tomorrow, love." your mother whispered softly, kissing your forehead. "goodnight everyone,, i love you all. so so much" your parents left the room, but your older sister stayed by your side, crying her eyes out. "y/n,"

"unnie, i know. shhh, you'll be fine–" you started, holding her hand. but she cut you off, "no! i won't be okay! y/n, you've been there for me ever since you were born and you complete me. you're my best friend, my baby, my sister. and tomorrow.. i'm gonna lose you forever. do you think i'm gonna be okay after that?!"

tears started building up in your eyes, making you look away. "unnie.. i- i know. i'm so sorry.. i- i don't want to go, you know that. but i'll always be with you. you know that, right?"

"b-but, y/n/n-"

you brought her into a hug, shutting her up. "it's okay.. besides i still have the morning with you–" she slapped your arm, "stop joking around!" you giggled, "yeah okay, now shush and get to sleep."

"goodnight, y/n"

"night, unnie."

—

you woke up, feeling groggy as ever. you slowly got up, making sure not to hurt yourself even more. "morning, loser" your sister greeted, making you flinch in shock. "iM- SINCE WHEN WERE YOU HERE"

"i was waiting for you to get up,, i don't wanna leave without seeing you awake" irene said, sadly. you took her hand and made her look at you, "you've been the greatest sister and best friend i could ever ask for. i love you and i'm always gonna be here with you, now go before you're late for school." she kissed your forehead, caressing your hair. "i love you so much, you loser. take care of me and yourself up there, ayt?"

you nodded, holding your tears back. irene pulled away, walking out of your room. you sighed and went over to spend some time with your parents.

——

the second irene stepped into school, she ran where your friends wouldn't be able to find her. she spent the whole day avoiding them, until the end of the day.

joohyun was sneaking out of school, until your friends finally found her. they crowded her, asking where you were. she started panicking and was having a hard time thinking of an excuse, "uhh.. she's.. just sick. don't worry about it." she replied, making jisoo's brain start working. "FUCK" she pushed everyone out of the way, getting into her car. "fuckfuckfuck, y/n, fuck!"

[  that sounds wrong :(  ]

she punched her steering wheel, before speeding off to your house. ,,,

she ran to your door, knocking aggressively. your mother opened the door, her eyes swollen, not knowing who it was, "may i help y-"

"jisoo?"

she observed her godmother, confused as ever, but she let it slide as she needed to see you. "miss bae, please let me see y/n, i-i found a way!" she pleaded, making your mum look at her sadly. "l-look, jisoo–"

"hyeri, let the girl in." your father spoke, making the mentioned lady look back. she nodded and opened the door wider. "thank you so much!" jisoo replied. she ran to your room, opening the door. "y/n, i found a w–"

her heart dropped and stopped when she saw you laying on the bed, pale as ever. "y/n, hey." she said, running to your side and holding your cold hand. your eyes opened slowly, smiling as you saw the girl next to you. "j-jisoo, hey"

"y/n.." she started, tears beginning to form and fall from her eyes. "i-i.. i love you." you whispered, making jisoo shake her head. "nonono, y/n, stop! i-i found a way, i just need some time–" you laughed at her, weakly. "that's one thing i don't have, chu. time. i only have a little bit until–"

"y/n, no! please, i-i swear. i'm gonna–"

"you know one thing i love about us?" you asked, "n-no.." she replied. "how we always cut each other off. it's kinda cute"

she giggled, making you smile. "jisoo, i don't want you to do anything. just.. stay here with me, okay?" she looked at you with such intent, everything she wanted, she needed, she loved, was right in front of her eyes, and she was about to witness her wither away. "o-okay.."

the two sat in silence for two minutes before y/n spoke up. "i love you, jisoo. i forgive you, you know that, right?"

the mentioned girl then broke down, shocking you. "h-hey, i'm sorry, i didn't–" the older girl placed her lips onto yours, spilling at the sadness and pain into the kiss. you kissed back, you smiled slightly, glad that you were able to share your last moments with your soulmate. you pulled away when you felt your mark stinging, "j-jisoo, i-i love y-you–" you squeezed her hand, smiling.

"no, y/n, no.. please no, y/n" she pleaded, holding your hand. your grip started loosening, making her onto you tighter. "baby, no. y/n, h-hey. stay with me. hey"

your eyes started to feel heavy and everything was fading away. "i love you" you whispered, before you took your last breath and your time had come. your hand let go of jisoo's, making her panic. "no, baby, please no," she cried,

your parents heard her sobs, making them barge into the room. their hearts dropped and your father immediately brought your mum into his arms as she sobbed, "my angel, my beautiful angel"

"y/n, please. come back.." she sobbed.

"i love you too"

[serenadeonacanoe]

Honestly, I'd piss him off on purpose. (Namjoon x OFC)

Pairing: Namjoon x Original Female Character

Genre/Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, too tired to beta

Tags: Artist!Namjoon, Yoongi and Tae are the best flatmates, Enemies to Lovers I guess... more like brats to making out in the storage unit, OFC is an idiot.

Summary:

"Wow. Is that that grumpy artist behind you? Jesus. He really looks like a bit of a dick. And you are right. He really is hot..." Oh no. Speakerphone. Namjoon was standing behind me and was staring at me. Then at my phone. He let out a little laugh, then raised his hand to wave at Tae and Yoongi outside who were now also staring at him as if frozen, before turning around in unison. As if that would help. As if he couldn't see them. Or better even... couldn't hear them.

[...]

Mister Darcy has nothing on Kim Namjoon - that new and upcoming artist you probably already heard of (You haven't? How dare you? At least have the decency to pretend you have!). He is cold, serious, and rather good at making other people believe he is a prick. Especially Elizabeth Bennet - uh... Charlotte - is about to lose it because of him. Maybe in a good way. Man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

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CHAPTER 1

Even the sound of my own nails rhythmically tapping on the top of the counter was annoying me. To be fair, it didn't need much today to blow my fuze that had never been particularly long in the first place. But after a week consisting of being belittled by old white men and endless hours of unpaid overtime I about had it. Welcome to the art world. You know well before you enter that the hours are horrible and the job market is more than frustrating, but you love art and you have good organisational skills, you are resilient, charming when it counts and tend to romanticize things even when you know you shouldn't. It's too late to turn around now.

"That is why I don't use an agenda or notebook. If something is important enough for me to attend I simply won't forget. I know you youngsters are all about the bullet journaling and expressing yourself by mapping out your life but it really is just another way to procrastinate instead of getting to actual work." For a second I considered throwing my damn notebook in the buyer's face, but that probably wouldn't have helped my CV and the new job I would have to look for starting tomorrow. At least I should have screamed at him a little. Mainly, that I didn't care, that I was on my period and my shitty shower in the shitty flat i shared had broken and no dry shampoo in the world had fixed my hair this morning and that god damn it, how the hell was I supposed to remember every phone number, every call my boss had to take, every art handling transport I had organized if I couldn't write it down somewhere. Instead, I smiled. Died a little on the inside and complimented him on the gift of his exceptional memory and asked whether he would like another cup of coffee.

"What a dick." Samantha murmured, more to herself than me, after the guy had finally left, which made me snort under my breath. She usually didn't say much but when she did it was usually pure gold. In the end, it didn't matter that he was. Didn't matter that everyone at the gallery thought the art he had bought from us over the last couple of months had neither been smart nor impressive purchases. Mainly expensive. And flashy.

"Doesn't matter now." I said in a sigh after a quick glance at the clock. It was Friday night and we were about to close. Since it was my birthday on Monday I had taken two days off, about the longest break I had had this year and I was looking forward to being the lazy slob for a few days I was maybe always meant to be. In silence we answered a few last emails, tidied up the desks and counters so that potential buyers that would come in over the weekend wouldn't have to suspect anyone was actually working here. - A white desk. A huge Imac on it. That was all they needed to see, folders and pens and apparently especially agendas to be hidden away in drawers.

At five to eight I threw on my coat and Samantha just gave me a tired smile. Probably happy for me, just exhausted. "Have fun then? Don't get too wasted?" "Oh..." I said with a huge smug grin on my lips. "You have no idea... gonna take a bottle of Moët with me from the bar and drink it in my bathtub after eating a huge pepperoni pizza by myself and dancing to only the finest of 90s Euro Trash." I couldn't help it, apparently, I felt it necessary to give Sam a little demonstration, waving my arms up and down while swaying my hips in a way that I'd probably would not have if it hadn't been for a bit with an audience of a single person. Or maybe two?

A quiet scoff behind me and I quickly turned around, slowly lowering my arms, Sam biting her lower lip at the sight of me standing there like an idiot in front of HIM of all people.

Men didn't have to be old to annoy me. Or white. Yes, those were the ones that pissed me off most usually, but no one had managed to do so as much as Kim Namjoon recently. And now he was standing there, looking me up and down and stopping at my hair. The crazy too-much-dry-shampoo-because-the-shower-broke-hair. "Nice." He just commented and then looked over at Sam. "I'd like to take a last look before Sunday's opening if that is okay?" I stood there, my shoulders dropping, completely ignored.

"Uhm, actually, my babysitter has to leave in about an hour and I will have to be home before that." Samantha replied and I was impressed by how calm she stayed. "Of course." Namjoon said and gave her a slight smile. "Anyone else still around? Chris maybe?" Of course Chris hadn't been in today. It was Friday and unless important guests had announced themselves the owner of the gallery wasn't around on Fridays... "I am afraid not. But maybe Charlotte has a few minutes?" Well. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I felt a little betrayed. "Wouldn't want to keep anyone from their important Moët-Pizza-Dance Party plans." Namjoon replied before I could say a word. His voice once more dropping to a hushed, deep disapproval and his hands buried in the pockets of his rather expensive looking coat. Silence for a few moments and then he just walked off towards the room his exhibition had been set up all week. Showing without a further word that I would have to stay anyways if he wanted it that way.

"Well thank you for pushing me under the bus like that. Really appreciate it." "I am so sorry. But I was serious, I can't lose this babysitter. She got Jamie to eat vegetables. VEGETABLES!" Samantha suddenly seemed in a rush, grabbing her jacket and purse and showering me in promises she would make it up to me. Even though we both knew that wouldn't happen and wasn't necessary. Suddenly having to stay longer was normal. I just hated that it had to be today. And because of him.

I heard the door close behind Sam and I stood there for a second before putting my bag down again. Usually, I would have followed the artist, asking if I could somehow help, but nahhh... my ego was bruised up enough now, especially remembering the little dance. I closed my eyes. Fucking hated the guy. Always had. Well, not quite. I had thought he was cool for about five minutes when he had come in the first time. We had heard about him for quite a few months before, I think I had even seen pictures of him at some point, but those were nothing compared to him in real life. He came in all cheekbones and sharp chin and an all grey outfit, quick pace, observant gaze. Incredibly hot. He had also completely ignored me.

That's how it had started - a bruised ego. He couldn't know that it was my weak spot. Having studied art and its management and now feeling like a better secretary at times, when my colleagues and I were doing all the behind the scenes work while Chris worked very little hours and ended up with all the money and recognition. I was aware this wasn't the only field of work where this was the case, but it still frustrated me... I had imagined my life in the last years of my 20s to be a bit more glamorous than living in a tiny apartment on the outskirts of the city... spending my Friday night waiting for some rude artist dude to leave so I could lock up.

But what I perhaps hated most about him... was that I admired him. - Purely for his art. Really. Even the fact that he kept acting as if I wasn't around every time he came in didn't mean I couldn't admit that. At least to myself. The stories behind his huge colleagues were clever and thought through, but even without context, the pure aesthetics were mesmerizing. It was the kind of art that touched something deep inside of you and standing in front of it I always had a hundred questions. Whenever he brought in a new piece I was the first one to sneak a peek in the back rooms before it was hung.

"I don't get why you have such a problem with him. He is just... quiet. I think he might even be shy... stop being so sensitive and just ask him out already." I had almost strangled Sam for that comment a couple of weeks back. Stop being so sensitive. What did that even mean? Comments like that made me want to cry and scream at the same time, which probably would have been perceived as even more sensitive, but when had insensitivity become something to strive for? I had only kept quiet because I liked Sam and I knew what she had tried to say. At least I thought so. That I might have given less of a shit if I hadn't been rather attracted to Namjoon. Even though I had never mentioned it, she just knew. She knew if I didn't care about something I didn't waste my time on it. But if something made me angry or upset there was usually more to it. I hated that she could read me that easily. But he was still a dick and I still wanted to go home.

He took his sweet time. After an hour I walked up to him, a little speech prepared in my head about how he could come back first thing tomorrow. But when he turned around he just raised a hand between us to keep me from interrupting and turned away again. I hadn't seen that he was on the phone. "No, it's nothing, just one of the gallery employees." I heard him say and okay... if I wasn't about to explode before I was now. I stood there for a minute, fuming, and then simply walked back to the office area, my hand shaking when I started turning off the gallery lights one by one. It wasn't as satisfying as I had hoped but still felt good. Two minutes later the only lights still on were the one above my head and the one in front of the door. I would at least give him a clear direction where to head, he seemed to need it.

When Namjoon appeared out of one of the dark corners he looked even more annoyed than usual. Looking my direction through squinting eyes and his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. "Seriously?" he yelled my way and almost walked into one of the little flyer shelves. Wasn't the first time I had seen that happen to him though so maybe that had nothing to do with the light.

I felt oddly triumphant. By the time I had put on my coat and turned off the remaining lights, ready to finally lock up, Namjoon had almost found his way, standing in the open door, still on his phone. A little groan from my side when he didn't even notice that I was standing behind me went by unnoticed. Or simply ignored. But instead of the appropriate clearing of the throat or the maybe less polite squeezing past him, I just put my hands on his back and gently pushed him forward a bit, until his feet hit the pavement and he turned around. Dropping his hand with the phone in it, for a second he looked like he wanted to push back. Or trample me.

"Okay, what the hell is your problem, Charlotte?" His voice was hoarse. His eyes dark. God, he was hot. I hated him so much. "You." I simply replied and stared at him for a second, then turned around and locked the two locks on the door before stepping over to the alarm system. I couldn't help feeling smug because apparently, he knew my name. I imagined him staring at the back of my head because he was flustered, but couldn't be sure. All I knew was that when I turned around again a minute later he was still standing there, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his lips pressed together forming a straight line and watching me.

"Do you always act like that at work around people who could get you into trouble?" He was right, he could get me into trouble. But I was too fired up now, my heart racing. "Is that a threat?" "An observation." "Only around the ones I don't like." "Cool." "Great." "Enjoy the dance party. Sounds shit."

And with those words he had turned around, coat flying open in the wind, unfortunately making him look really cool as he walked away and I ABSOLUTELY HATED HIM. I kept my mouth shut and just walked off in the other direction, realizing minutes later that my car was parked the other way, but I kept walking for a while before I finally turned around. It took a while to calm down and only cuddling up to my cat on the couch to trash tv finally did the job. But by then I had realized something I wasn't sure I liked too much. Yeah, I thought he was a prick. And yeah I should have just played it cool. Would have been much smarted in many regards. But I also had somewhat enjoyed myself in the most fucked up way.

Seeing that stern look, that intense posture as he was towering over me... man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

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[ethereal-bang]

Minutes

Characters: Jisung x female reader

Words: 3,071

Type: friends to lovers, fluff, smut, college!au

Warnings: fingering in an elevator, heavy making out, explicit content

Description: stuck in an elevator with a boy from your science class, what else could possibly go wrong?

This is a work of fiction and not meant for anyone under the age of 18

You really hate Mondays.

They’re always the longest, and for some reason things happen to go incredibly wrong on the first day of the week. Always. 

Waking up and realizing you only have 10 minutes to get dressed and get to class, running across campus seems to be the only option if you want to make it there on time. The professor is strict, and won’t let you in even if you’re only a minute late to class.

You ignore the weird looks you get from students as you sprint across campus, just wanting to make sure today doesn’t get any worse.

The door to your classroom is already shut, and you know that if you try to walk in now, you’re going to be yelled at by the professor and kicked out anyway. It’s not a surprise to you, with the morning you’ve had, you kind of expected things to continue downhill.

Now having some extra time to kill, you head to the school cafe for a cup of (desperately needed) coffee, and then the library for some extra studying for your anatomy class that you’re going to walk into within the next hour and a half. It was your hardest class, and easily the most stressful one as well.

Luckily, your study session went uninterrupted and with no hiccups. Looking at your watch and realizing you need to get moving, you stand up from your spot at the library table only for a student walking by to knock into you, spilling your remaining coffee on your shirt. “Are you fucking kidding me?” you ask in your head, telling the girl who ran into you that it was fine, and that you’re okay once she started apologizing profusely. Of course, now not only are you running late again, but you have a giant coffee stain on your shirt.

“Are you alright?” You hear someone chuckle next to you, and you look to your left and see Han Jisung, looking at you with concern but also a slight bit of humor in his eyes. You’ve spoken to him a few times, the two of you sharing your anatomy class. He’s cute, you think, with his bright smile and energetic attitude. You also had a few mutual friends, Seungmin and Changbin, so you had heard more about him than you’ve actually spoken to him.

“Yeah, Jisung, I’m just fine. Thank you for asking,” you quip back, and he arches an eyebrow at you out of curiosity.

 “Seems like someone rolled out the wrong side of the bed today,” he says, and it makes you pout. “What makes you say that?” you say while looking away from him grumpily. “No reason, just saw you sprinting through campus out the window this morning, plus you’re like..covered in coffee” he says nonchalantly, and it makes you want to smack him. You both need to get to class though, and the thought makes you groan. “Ugh there’s no way I’ll be able to get to my apartment and change in time..” you say to yourself, looking down at the giant coffee stain on your shirt. 

“Here,” Jisung says, and you look up to see him taking off his hoodie and handing it to you. “Jisung I can’t, it’s really okay I’ll just change after class,” you tell him. He shakes his head, and shoves the hoodie into your hands. “I don’t want you to have to sit through class like that,” he says. You slip the hoodie on over your shirt, relishing in the scent of his cologne and how it makes your head spin just a little bit. 

Not wanting the coffee to stain the inside of Jisung’s hoodie, you quickly maneuver your arms inside the oversized piece of clothing, and take your shirt off while making sure Jisung’s hoodie still covers you. Pulling your coffee stained shirt out from the neck hole of the hoodie, you look at Jisung who is staring at you with wide eyes. Before you can laugh at his state of shock, Jisung speaks up. “Let’s go, we’re gonna be late!” He says, making his way towards the library exit. 

You have no other choice but to follow him because he’s right, class is going to start and you’re not even in the science building. He notices you lingering behind and grabs your hand, leaving you completely shocked as he decides to take off once he steps foot outside, with you in tow. You try to keep up with him, stumbling over your feet while yelling at him to slow down, although it seems like he isn’t going to. 

You make it inside the science building and book it up the stairs, praying that you’re not late. Seems as this time, luck is on your side. You and Jisung make it inside the classroom not thirty seconds before the professor does. The two of you exchange victory smiles, still catching your breath while the professor starts the lecture.

You tried to stay focused, but your eyes continued to wander towards Jisung every now and again. He managed to sit right where the sun was shining through the windows, and to put it quite frankly, his beauty was distracting. His tan skin seemed to be glowing, and he would bite his lip in concentration every now and again as he copied the notes from the board. Something about the way his lips looked made you want them against your own, and you were taken aback by your thoughts. You hadn’t even had a real conversation with him until two hours ago, and now you were thinking about kissing him? What is this feeling? 

Your eyes move from focusing on his lips to his hands, watching the way they move as he takes notes. You can’t help but imagine what those hands would feel like on your body. His hoodie was warm enough, but you were sure his hands were something else. 

You hear Jisung laugh quietly, and your eyes shoot up from their current focus to realize that Jisung had caught you staring at his hands. Your cheeks flush a bright red, and you turn your head back to the front of the classroom, hoping he’ll ignore it later. 

“Well, thank god my classes are done for the day,” you say once you realize Jisung is waiting for you after lecture is over. Your cheeks are still a little pink, and you’re just waiting for the boy to make a joke about your obvious staring.  Jisung laughs, too, and the sound makes you feel a little lighter. “Yeah I know right? Especially since the weather is getting cooler and I seem to have lost a hoodie,” he quips, and you playfully smack him on the arm. The playful smirk on his face sets something off inside of you, but you try and ignore it as much as possible.

“I told you I didn’t need it!”  you say, and he shakes his head. “It’s alright, you don’t need to worry about it,” He insists, but it still doesn’t sit right with you. “No, no I feel bad. Here, come to my place really quick? I’ll change out of this and throw my shirt in the wash so you can have this back,” you ask him. “Well, I think I have some time...” he says playfully. You roll your eyes and lead him in the direction of your apartment building.

On the walk to your apartment, you get to talk to Jisung more than you ever have before. You definitely regret not getting to know him sooner. The stories you’ve heard about him definitely don’t do him justice, either. He’s really quick witted-- able to make you laugh harder than you’ve laughed in awhile. Pair that with his soft brown eyes and his bright smile, he’s basically a knock out. 

Once you reach your building, Jisung opens the door for you and it just adds to the tiny feelings you could sense growing in your stomach for this boy. You walk up to the elevator and press the call button, and the presence of Jisung behind you waiting for the elevator makes the hairs on your neck stand up. He was really, really close to you, and you could feel his warmth radiating off of him. Not to mention you were still wearing his hoodie, the smell of his cologne fogging your senses. 

The doors open, and you step inside first, turning around to press the button to head to the 9th floor. Jisung follows, standing next to you and leaning against the rail behind him. It’s quiet, but comfortable.

That is, until you hear a weird noise coming from the elevator. 

You look up at Jisung to see if he heard it too, and the way his grip tightens on the bar behind him doesn’t go unnoticed by you. The elevator shakes, slightly, and out of reflex you move to grab onto Jisung. His arm goes around your waist, pushing you to him while keeping a hand on the bar holding him steady. Just like you thought, the elevator shakes more strongly and then comes to a stop. The lights go off for a moment, but the backup lights come on almost immediately, bathing the small space in a soft, dull light. 

You let go of the breath you were holding once you’re sure the elevator isn’t going to plummet 7 stories. Jisung feels you relax in his hold, and moves away slightly to look at you. “Are you okay?” He asks you for the second time today, except this time his voice is very clearly concerned. “Yes, I’m fine. What happened? How are we gonna get out of here?” You say, checking your phone and realizing you don’t have any cell service. 

Jisung steps away from you, letting his arm fall from your waist. You miss the feeling of protection, but watch him anyway as he makes his way over to the elevator door. Taking a look through the gap, you hear Jisung mutter some curses under his breath. “Looks like we’re stuck between floors, which is why your phone isn’t working,” he says, trying to further inspect the situation. 

“So what do we do then? Sit here and wait for someone to come save us?” You ask, eyes wide. He shrugs, and turns back to the door. “Hey! Can anyone hear us? We’re trapped in the elevator!” He shouts, and it’s quiet for a moment before a stranger’s voice is heard from a few feet above you.

“We heard the rattling of the elevator! We’ve called maintenance and fire, but they said it’s going to be about 20 minutes until they can get here. We hope you’re okay!” The voice says. Jisung nods his head and yells a thank you to the stranger before making his way back towards you in the small elevator.

 You’re happy to know that help is on the way, but what if something happens before they get there? What if the elevator -does- decide to fall before they can get there? You don’t want to live out your final moments in your college apartment’s elevator. 

You start to freak out a little bit, and Jisung can sense it. “We’re gonna be okay, you know that right? Help is on the way,” he says, and moves to take a seat on the floor. You join him, hoping it will calm your nerves even just a little. “Yeah, I just hate elevators..” you say, and he doesn’t answer you. You want to say the quiet is calming, but you can’t help the anxiety you feel in the pit of your stomach. You start picking at the carpet of the elevator out of nervousness, and Jisung takes notice. 

He scoots a little closer to you and grabs your hand, the size difference of his hands compared to yours is almost baffling. You feel that blush rise up again, reminded of what happened in class earlier. Jisung is playing with your fingers absentmindedly, both of his hands grabbing at them and lightly pulling them in different directions, the pad of his thumbs smoothing over the back of your palm. You can’t look at him, too embarrassed for getting worked up at the gesture. 

It seems like God is out to get you today, because Jisung laughs that teasing laugh of his again, and this time a finger under your chin brings your head up to make eye contact with him.

“Y’know, I was going to let it go earlier, but now I don’t think I can..You seem to be pretty fascinated with my hands, huh baby doll?” He asks confidently, and the tone of his voice makes you want to jump down the elevator shaft out of shyness. The new pet name brings those same feelings back to your stomach, and you’re at a loss for words. Jisung takes notice of this, and his smile turns from playful to something a little more serious. 

‘Awe now why are you getting shy? You sure weren’t when you were checking me out in lecture earlier,” Jisung says, his tone condescending as he moves closer to you. “I promise, Y/N, I’m not going to bite. I mean, not unless you want me to,” he whispers. He’s not even an inch away from your face, and now you can’t seem to break eye contact with him. His hand moves from your jaw to the back of your neck. “If you don’t want this, you need to tell me..” he insists, but you don’t even need to think twice. “I want it. I want you.” you say quietly, and that’s enough for him to close the distance and pull you on top of him.

Being seated on Han Jisung’s lap is nothing short of an out of body experience. His lips are soft against yours, nipping at your bottom lip and asking for entrance which you gladly grant him. The kiss is fast and passionate and full of tongues but neither of you seem to care. You can’t think of anything except that you were right; the feeling of his hands roaming your body is better than you could’ve imagined. By now your fingers are tangled in his hair, pulling slightly every now and again and listening to the beautiful sounds of Jisung groaning against your lips.

“You are absolutely gorgeous,” he says, his fingers trailing to the button of your jeans. You busy yourself with moving your hands underneath his tshirt, his skin warm and soft under your fingers. You can feel the ridges of abs that you didn’t know existed, and as Jisung is whispering sweet nothings into your ear, you whine at the sensation of his fingers that have found their way into your underwear.

“You look so pretty like this for me,” Jisung continues, his fingers rubbing circles on your clit in slow circles as you whine at him. “I knew I wasn’t going to be able to control myself the moment you slipped this damn hoodie on. You look so small, baby.” 

You’re sure that you’re going crazy the more that Jisung talks to you. In order to preserve even the tiniest bit of your sanity, you connect your lips to his once more. You hear him chuckle into the kiss, Jisung sensing your urgency as you grind down onto his fingers with a newfound energy. 

“You really like my hands that much, huh? Gonna get off just on my fingers baby?” He asks once again, this time inserting a finger into your core. You moan at the new sensation, but Jisung isn’t having it. “Words, baby. Tell me how you’re feeling,” He orders, and something about his tone sends you up a wall. “S-so good Jisung.. I.. fuck,” you breathe out. 

Jisung snaps back to reality for a moment and remembers: You’re on a time crunch. Maintenance could get the elevator back up and running at any moment. He adds another finger inside of you and quickens his pace at the same time. The speed has you reeling, the knot in your stomach tight but not quite ready to snap.

 “I need you to cum for me baby, someone could walk in any minute. We don’t need anyone else seeing how much of a slut you are for my fingers alone, now do we? Or would you like that?” He asks, and the idea has you clenching around him. Jisung senses this, and laughs. “Something to keep in mind for another time,” he says to himself. You bury that comment at the back of your mind, focusing on the pleasure that’s rising in your core.

Once Jisung starts rubbing harsh circles on your clit, the combination of that and his fingers inside you has you arching your back. To Jisung, you are the most ethereal being on the planet right now; the soft light of the elevator highlighting your features, making you look oh so beautiful and almost unreal as your orgasm washes over you.

Jisung helps you ride out your high, your hips slowly coming to a stop as you begin to catch your breath. “Th-thank you, Jisung..” you say quietly, moving your hair out of your face. “Trust me, baby doll. The pleasure was all mine,” he chimes, and a small laugh leaves your lips as you finally gain your composure once again.

The two of you stay sitting like that for a few minutes, basking in the glow of this new found relationship until you hear voices a few feet above you again. “Hello? Are you alright in there? This is the fire department, we’re going to get you out of there, don’t worry.” The faint voice says. You both sigh in relief, Jisung’s arms falling around your waist once again. 

It doesn’t take long for the elevator doors to be opened, and you’re both pulled up by the firemen who came to your rescue. 

Once safe and sound, it doesn’t take long for you to pull Jisung into your apartment to make up for something very, very important, either.

Masterlist

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Two Worlds.

I’am planning on doing a part two IF this part gets enough interest. Thank you to @detective-giggles & @beccabarba​​​ for letting run this idea by you both and being supportive.

Warnings: It’s in the name, just the back story and we are going to pretend Miguel is divorced for this one.

WC: 1354

Enjoy x

When you had taken on the job as the assistant for the infamous Bryan Kneef you didn’t know how deep you would be getting. Bryan didn’t make it easy for you at first, but it all made sense once he let you into his other world completely. He needed to trust you completely, he couldn’t risk you blowing up everything he had worked to build in and out of the office. He never crossed either worlds, using his work office for out of work business or using his home office for his day job business. Most nights after finishing at STR Laurie you went straight to your desk in Bryan’s apartment office doing work for his ‘other’ clients.

The meeting in LA had been in motion for over a month after a phone call from Miguel Galindo needing a new lawyer to take care of some business. Bryan got you to do some research before he agreed to the meeting. You both working out why Miguel needed a lawyer out of the state and Bryan gave you the go ahead to organise everything for the trip. You were both flying out late on a Friday night coming home late Sunday night for work on Monday, a dinner set up at a very popular restaurant in LA.

You weren’t naive when it came to life, you had seen more than your fair share of stuff, nothing surprised you, which Bryan liked, he didn’t need to treat you with kid gloves with any cases, worry about how you would react with what came in and you took everything in your stride no matter what the situation or who you were dealing with. You were the best assistant he had ever had, and as much as he wanted nothing more than to see your lips wrapped around his cock, he never crossed that line with you, not wanting to risk having to find another assistant that would match up to you, because he was sure there would never be one.

You had settled into your seat next to Bryan in your business class seats. You felt cold so you grabbed the blanket, threw it over your body up to your chin,

“You’re always cold. Need my jacket to?” Bryan said not taking his eyes off his phone.

“I’ am good thanks Bry” you smiled at the side of his face.

**

You had just slipped on your black pointed heels and fixed up the white non see through sheer cross over shirt into your knee length skin tight skirt when there was a knock on the door. You grabbed your leather covered iPad for you to take notes and your clutch walking to the door, looking through the peep hole and swinging the door open to Bryan in a charcoal grey suit with a navy button down, no tie and one hand in his pocket,

“Ready” Bryan smirked at you.

“Yep” you stepped out closing the door behind you. You and Bryan made your way towards the lifts to head down to get into a town car “Don’t forget you need to be back here by 10 for your Singapore call”

The town car pulled up at the restaurant you booked a table at and you both got out walking in. The host confirmed your name and booking number leading you both to your table. As you walked through the roof top bar, Bryan in front of you, you noticed some men standing and sitting in different parts of the restaurant all in black suits watching you and Bryan, their eyes glued on you’s,

“Mr Kneef nice to meet you finally”  

“Like wise Mr Galindo”

You looked around Bryan to one the sexiest men you had ever set eyes on other than Bryan.  His hair gelled back in place, his salt and peppered beard shaped perfectly, his cologne making your knees weak, his light grey suit perfectly pressed and his off white button down showing off his tanned skin. His beautiful brown eye’s met yours with a smile,

“You must be Y/N” Miguel held his hand to you, Bryan stepping out of the way for Miguel to take your one hand in his two warm big ones “Nice to finally put a face to the voice. It’s been a pleasure dealing with her Mr Kneef your lucky to have found an assistant like her” Miguel smiled at you again.

“Nice to meet you Mr Galindo, you’re too kind” You smiled over at him batting your eye lashes a shiver running down your spine.

You all moved to sit down after Miguel let go of your hand. Drinks and food were ordered and it was decided to get straight to business so you could all relax when dinner arrived. You noticed how Miguel looked over at you every so often with a smug look on his face while you took notes of the meeting while him and Bryan discussed what Miguel needed.

“That should all be straight forward, Y/N can draft up the paperwork and email them over for approval and then I can file them with the courts by Wednesday at the latest”

“Great” Miguel nodded and Bryan and he shook hands just as dinner arrived.

The night had got away from you all, laughing and drinking and dessert had been ordered when your phone pinged with a new email. You nudged Bryan’s side and lent over informing him the Singapore meeting had been moved forward 10 minutes, it starting in 20 minutes, it taking 15 to get back to hotel.

“You stay and have dessert, I can come back and get you after the meeting”  

“I can get her back” Miguel smiled over at you “My car is out back”

Bryan nodded, shook Miguel’s hand back and left to get back for the meeting.

“Tell me a little about yourself Y/N” Miguel sat back in his chair with a grin and his head tilted slightly.

“What would you like to know” You smiled back leaning onto the table as you started to eat your chocolate mousse.

“Is there a special someone?” Miguel grinned.

“I don’t really have time for that with working for Mr Kneef”

“Is he at least satisfying you?”

You chuckled and shook your head, “No, its all business”

Miguel nodded with a smile and reached over to grab your hand taking yours in his, running his thumb over your knuckles,

“Let’s get you back to the hotel, we can order some wine, maybe I can take care of that situation for you.”

“I would like that” you smiled big.  

The meeting had gone an hour over what it was meant to and Bryan needed to get to your room so he could dictate too you what happened so you could type it out before he forgot. His jacket was long gone just leaving him in his pants and dress shirt, his sleeves now rolled up, grabbing a small bottle of wine and a bottle of beer from his mini bar before stepping out of his room and walking up the hall way too your door. He knocked and stood back waiting for an answer and he heard a man’s voice muffled through the door and then it opening. 

Bryan stood frozen in place as he set eyes on a bare chested Miguel and you sitting on the edge of the bed with Miguel’s shirt around your naked body. You jumped up your cheeks burning as you rushed to the door and stepped in front of Miguel,

“Bryan, I-I”

“She isn’t part of the contract” Bryan frowned his eyes on Miguel.

“I’ am sorry Bryan” Your face going bright red and Miguel put his hand on the small of your back to try and comfort you, puffing his chest out protectively.

“Y/N” Bryan’s voice was deep and your eyes snapped up to his. Bryan raised an eye brow looking between you both, a wicked smile pulling to his face, one also pulling to Miguel’s when he seen Bryan’s expression “Are you going to invite me in and make this a real party”      

 Tags: @thatesqcrush​​​​​ @teamsladsandgents​​​​​ @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo​​​​​ @permanentlydizzy​​​​​ @madamsnape921​​​​​ @amorestevens​​​​​​ @annabelleb49​​​​​ @alwaysachorusgirl​​ @storiesofsvu

[kikis-writing-world]

Whiskey Straight - The Mission (3)

Jack Daniels x F!Reader

The adrenaline rush you got from completing missions, aiding an international spy, was something you didn’t realize your life had been missing at home. You were hooked. But Phil’s latest ask might be farther past the line than you can let yourself go.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Unwanted sexual advances, and someone doesn’t respect the word “NO” - it doesn’t get too far, but I definitely don’t want anyone being triggered. Light violence. Something I guess I would call a kidnapping scenario?

A/N: A little more Whiskey in this one, but mostly a lot of Phil... but also, it’s starting to get good. If you’ve stuck with it this far, thought all the set-up, I hope you’re really going to enjoy where we go from here. Divider graphics by @firefly-graphics​

Series Masterlist  -  Prologue  -  One  -   Two  -  Three  -   Four  -   Five  -  Six  -   Seven

It took two long, boring weeks for the call you were waiting for to come in. Finally hearing your codename again had a zing of adrenaline shooting through your system. Phil wouldn’t tell you over the phone what he needed but he gave you specific instructions on where and when to meet him the next morning, down to the minute. You agreed, knowing your boss likely wouldn’t have a problem with you taking your morning break a little early. You probably over rehearsed asking in your head given that your boss didn’t ask any questions, simply granted your request. You tucked your book under your arm - Phil had told you to bring a book to avoid looking suspicious - as you headed for the park.

There were a handful of people out, walking their dogs or just passing through the park. The bench Phil had described to you was empty, so you sat down and glanced around you before opening your book. You didn’t even bother trying to read, too excited to focus on the story you’d already read once before. You kept your face trained towards the book but kept your eyes sweeping your peripheral vision.

“Turn the page once in a while.” The voice behind you made you jump. You started to turn on instinct when he told you, “don’t look. It’s me.”

“Phil?” You whispered, staring at the page in front of you. After a moment, you took his advice and turned the page.

“Yes.” He confirmed. You felt something, likely his elbow, nudge against your back as he sat down and got comfortable on the bench that was backed against yours. It was strangely comforting to feel him there when you were being so clandestine. “Did anyone follow you?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I think so.” You had been trying to pay attention as you walked to the park and you didn’t notice anything strange. Now you were worried - had someone followed you? Would you have even been able to tell?

“Good.”

A silence fell over the two of you and you wondered if it was too soon to turn the page again. You were antsy for him to tell you more about what he needed you to do.

“When I get up in a few minutes, I’m going to cross in front of you. Don’t look, don’t watch me. I’ll drop an envelope on the bench beside you. Pick it up and slide it into your book. Don’t open it until you get somewhere safe.”

You almost nodded until you realized he wouldn’t see anyways. “Okay.” You confirmed.

“There’s a few pictures inside of a suitcase,” he continued. “I need you to find a suitcase that looks as close to it as possible. There should be enough cash in there to cover it.”

“A suitcase?” You questioned, not sure why he needed you to buy a suitcase.

“Yes. I can’t have it tied to me. It’s classified, I can’t tell you why.”

You had no choice but to take his word for it.

“I’ll call you on Thursday to arrange the pick-up. Do you think you can have it by then?”

It was Monday. That gave you almost 4 days to figure out where to buy this suitcase. As long as it wasn’t some rare, customized piece, that shouldn’t be hard at all.

“I think so.” You told him.

“Good. If anyone asks, you’re just shopping for new luggage. Maybe you saw a picture of this one and you like it.”

“New luggage.” You repeated with a nod of your head.

“You’re a gem, Trisha.” 

You felt your face heat with the praise. You weren’t sure what to say, but Phil kept talking anyway.

“I’m about to leave. Remember, don’t look. Wait a minute or two before you take off.”

“I will.” You confirmed, flipping the page in your book and keeping your eyes on the print. You heard his jacket rustle and the bench creak as he stood. His footsteps were muted as he made his way around the benches. The plain white envelope dropped to your side and you picked it up, sliding it in the back of your book. As anxious as you were to open it, to start planning out where you would find the illusive luggage, you followed Phil’s instructions. You faked reading for another minute before leaving the park.

Once you were back at work, you opened the envelope. Inside was a stack of 20s and the pictures of the suitcase. You were happy to see it looked pretty plain, a blue suitcase with no major distinguishing marks. There was even a close up of the logo so you’d be able to identify it easily.

You were eager to get started, going to a nearby mall on your lunch break. You found a few suitcases that were similar but you knew you could do better. You grabbed something quick from the food court to eat on your way back to the office, making a mental list of other stores you could think of to check out this week.

You left Jack a message you would be a little bit late that night before leaving work. You planned to stop at a few of the stores on your way home to check if they carried the type of suitcase in the picture. You lucked out, finding it in the first store you stopped in.

“For your husband?” The saleslady had asked. You just nodded with a hum as you paid.

You were on a high, having completed the “mission” so quickly. Phil had given you 4 days and it hadn’t even taken you one. You were better at this than you expected.

The day of the pick up he had you drive your car to a parking lot and take a bus from there to the station, where he picked you up. You acted like old friends as you arrived, going so far to hug each other in the terminal as he took the bag for you and led you to his car. You were thrilled to ride in his sports car as he drove you back to your own vehicle. It was easily the nicest car you’d ever been in and if you thought the purr of the engine was impressive from the outside, it was simply on another level from the inside. You couldn’t help but laugh as he sped past the other cars on the highway, the adrenaline surging through you from the successful mission and the speed of the car.

It didn’t take you long to become addicted to the feeling of helping Phil with his international espionage. The missions were never hard - he’d send you to buy something that he couldn’t be traced to, or he’d ask you to spend an evening sitting in a café to watch if someone came in. You never felt like you were directly in danger but the excitement was real nonetheless. The debriefings you had with Phil, sitting in hole-in-the-wall restaurants and coffee shops around the city, were filled with more stories of his travels and the dangers he encountered. He also started coaching you, sharing little tips to help watch if you were being followed, ways to stay safe. It was all fascinating.

The latest mission had been to spy on a woman in a hair salon. Phil had given you cash yet again and made you an appointment at the same time as her. All that he asked while you got your hair done on the government’s dime was to listen in to the conversation she had with her hairdresser. It was easy, except for when the dryers were turned on in the salon. 

You couldn’t stop the spring in your step as you met up with Phil immediately afterwards. Today the two of you were meeting in a coffee shop only a few blocks from the salon. The nice weather of the fall afternoon plus the confidence boost from your hair - and the excitement to finish the mission report - made it a quick walk.

“Trisha,” Phil stood, greeting you with a hug as you reached the booth. “You look fantastic.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, cheeks heating slightly under the pleasant attention. Your hair did look fantastic, and you felt fantastic for it.

“Good day?” Phil asked, pulling your chair out for you. You knew he was asking if you’d been able to get any information off the “mark,” as Phil had taught you to call her.

“Of course.” You grinned, waiting until the waiter approached the table and giving your order before filling him in on everything you’d overheard.

The woman hadn’t said anything that sounded important to you, but you’d done your best to memorize it regardless. She mostly griped about her ex-husband, a used car salesman that sounded like a loser. Phil ate up the information, sharing with you in hushed tones that the government had reason to believe her the man was spying for the Ukrainian government. You hoped the information helped as you sipped your latte.

You returned home, excited to show Jack your new hairdo. Maybe it was due to all the new excitement going on in your life, but you were ready for a change. The style wasn’t something you usually went for but you were extremely happy with it. You couldn’t wait to see Jack’s reaction.

“Jack? I’m home.” You called into the house as you toed off your shoes. You had told him you had an appointment as you were leaving the house that morning, but hadn’t told him it would be to have your hair done - and most of all, not that it was to spy on some unsuspecting lady.

“In here.” He called back from the den. You double checked your appearance in the mirror of your mudroom, fluffing your hair up a little bit before padding through the house.

You leaned against the doorframe, watching Jack read the paper as you waited for him to look up at you. After waiting several beats, he still hadn’t acknowledged you.

“Jack?”

“Yes, honey?” He hummed, still not looking up as he flipped the page.

You sighed, pushing off of the wall and making your way to sit on the arm of his chair. “Anything new in the news?” You asked, trying to give him the hint.

“It’s news, new is part of the definition.” He chuckled.

You blinked at him as he continued to peruse the print. You shoved his shoulder, trying to get his attention off the damned paper.

“Sorry, honey!” Jack apologized, folding the paper closed and resting it on his lap. He kissed your cheek, having to lean up a little in the chair to do so. “How was your day?”

You waited a moment, giving him a chance to notice, but he just waited for your answer. “Seriously?” You deadpanned, smile falling as he looked up at you.

“What?” He questioned, brow furrowing in confusion.

“You don’t notice anything different?” You prompted.

You saw the slight panic in Jack’s eyes, the typical deer in the headlights look of a man who knows he’s on thin ice. “Is… is that new… lipstick?” He drawled, his southern accent coming in stronger as he stretched his words, buying time.

You deflated, shaking your head as you stood from the chair. You couldn't believe he didn’t even notice.

“Hair!” He shouted after you, and you could hear the newspaper fall to the floor. “Your hair, it looks gorgeous! I couldn’t see it before!”

“Never mind, Jack.” You huffed, waving him off over your shoulder as you tried to keep your disappointment in check.

You heard his footsteps stop as he let you go, cursing under his breath. You barely spoke to him for the rest of the day.

The phone on your desk rang late Monday morning and you answered it as usual. You weren’t expecting Phil’s voice on the other side of the line.

“I need to see you.”

You glanced around, nervous someone would overhear. “Phil?” He’d never called you at work before.

“Can you meet me?”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“I think so…” You bit your lip. You could probably take an early lunch.

“Where we first met.” He instructed.

“I’ll be there.”

The line clicked dead.

You hung up, once again checking your surroundings to see if anyone had overheard your end of the conversation. No one seemed to have taken notice.

“Sandy?” You called over your coworker and closest friend at work. “Can you cover for me if I take an early lunch?”

Sandy grinned, crossing her arms over her chest. “Going to meet this mystery man you won’t tell me about?”

You felt your face heat up, but you denied it. “I told you, there’s no mystery man.” Sandy had been insistent there was someone you were seeing on the side for weeks.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed disbelievingly. “You’re chipper, you’re glowing, you got your hair done. There’s a mystery man.”

“I’m happily married, I don’t need another man in my life.” You reminded her.

“You’re married, alright.” She huffed, and you knew she purposely left out the “happily” part.

“Are you going to cover for me or not?” You asked, already pulling your jacket on.

“Of course,” she scoffed. “Just remember who had your back, and think about telling her about your new mystery man.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing she wasn’t going to give in. You had to meet Phil, you could argue with her later. “Thank you!”

Phil was sitting at the same table you had been at the first time you met him, the day that he had dropped that briefcase at your feet. He looked nervous, which in turn made you nervous. The man had always been cool and collected every time you spoke. If there was something dangerous enough to make him nervous, you didn’t want to meet it.

You slipped into the seat across from him and you noticed his relief at seeing you.

“Phil, what’s wrong?” You whispered, leaning in close to keep the conversation between you private. There were a few other patrons, but it was luckily too early for the lunch rush.

“I need your help.” Phil told you. “This is… it’s bigger than anything else you’ve done for me so far.”

“Tell me.” You pushed, reaching across the table to rest your hand on top of his. It felt strange, trying to comfort the man you knew to be so calm. He was usually calming your anxieties about missions, not the other way around.

“I have to go to Paris.” He blurted out. You nodded in understanding, waiting for him to explain your part of the plot. “And I need you to come with me.”

You swore you didn’t hear him properly, as you stuttered, “w-what?”

“I need you to come with me to Paris.” He repeated, slower this time.

“Paris… Texas?” You questioned, shaking your head in disbelief.

“France.” He confirmed.

“I can’t go to France.” You argued, still shaking your head.

“Why not?”

“I have a job, a husband-”

“It wouldn’t be for long, just a few days.” He cut you off. “You can make up a vacation. No one has to know you’ve left the country.”

You gaped at him, mouth opening and closing lamely as you tried to process what he was telling you. The little lies you’d been feeding people in your life were just that, little. Harmless. This was a huge lie. Leaving the country without telling anyone? “I don’t know, Phil…”

“I need you, Trisha. You’re the only person I trust to do this with me.” He pleaded, turning his hand over to grip yours. You stared at your joined hands, a feeling of pride blossoming in your chest knowing he trusted you.

“I’d have to know more before I can agree to anything.” You told him, losing some of your fight at his flattery.

“I need you to pose as my wife. Other agencies, other spies, they’re looking for a single man travelling alone. No one is going to be looking for a married couple. That’s all you would have to do. Give me a cover story by pretending to be my wife.”

You sat silently, absorbing the information. Phil continued to talk about his mission, about what he’d be doing while in Paris. You’d get to sight-see while he was working and occasionally he would join you at certain landmarks, watching for the mark. It truly would be a vacation for you, and all you would have to do is pose as Trisha Strickland, wife of Phil Strickland.

“The mission isn’t until next month, so you have time to decide. To plan. Please, consider it. If not for me, then for America.” Phil begged.

“I’ll consider it.” You promised, feeling numb.

You couldn’t concentrate when you went back to work. Your mind was swirling, preoccupied with Phil’s request. Paris was beautiful, and you’d always hoped you would go there someday. The museums, the history, the food. The romantic part of you always hoped you’d get a cheesy picture kissing the love of your life in front of the Eiffel Tower. Even if you did go, you obviously weren’t going to get that picture- or any pictures for that matter. It would be an absolute secret.

It had been a long time since you’d taken a vacation. They’d been planned for sure, but they often were cancelled last minute due to Jack’s work. You’d grown accustomed to stay-cations, spending the days relaxing at home with no obligations - but it got lonely. The last time the two of you had gone anywhere of note had been your honeymoon. There had been smaller trips since then, but nowhere exciting. You missed the thrill of planning a trip away and being able to actually go through with it.

You drove home, having to mindfully force yourself out of the daze you were in and watch the road. You wished you could talk to someone about the situation, asking for their opinion and advice. You remembered when Jack had been the person you could turn to for anything, but this was something you couldn’t share. You banished the thought as guilt bubbled up within you for keeping this secret from him. From keeping the whole secret from him, from the very beginning.

You parked in the driveway, surprised to see Jack’s Bronco already parked in it’s spot beside yours. You usually got home before him, so it was a pleasant surprise to think that the two of you would have some extra time together this evening. You thought of the early days of your marriage, before the routine and the responsibilities of Jack’s position set in. The two of you would make dinner together, laughing as Jack got sauce on his nose or misread a teaspoon of salt for a tablespoon. A night like that would be good for you, would help you take your mind off of Phil and Paris, at least for a little bit.

You could hear Jack’s heavy footfalls upstairs as you entered the house, walking around in a hurry. You wondered what he was up to as you made your way up the stairs.

“What are you doing home so early, babe?” You asked, following the sounds to your bedroom.

“Emergency down in Kentucky.” He explained quickly, his whole being seeming to run on full speed. You frowned, watching as the man was throwing clothes into his suitcase carelessly. “Have to catch the red-eye tonight.”

You fought against the disappointment rising in your chest, trying not to show it on your face. You sighed quietly to yourself, pushing Jack out of the way to pack his suitcase properly. “Let me help.”

Jack stopped running around like a madman, letting you take over his packing. He wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder as you refolded a shirt that had gotten all rumpled up in his attempt at packing.

“What would I do without you?” He praised, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You smiled back half-heartedly.

“I’ll go order us some dinner.” Jack told you as he left the room before you had a chance to answer.

There you were, packing another suitcase for your husband as he took off across the country again. You felt bad, knowing it was part of his job. It wasn’t like he was jetsetting to get away from you or to go live it up… but you still felt the bitterness that he was once again leaving you behind.

If he could take off with little to no explanation at the drop of a hat, then so could you. You’d get a hold of Phil tomorrow after Jack left and tell him you would go with him to Paris.

You drummed your fingers nervously against your leg as Phil drove. The speeds and sounds of his sports car only adding to your trepidation, not giving you the adrenaline rush like the previous times you’d ridden with him. The more he sped, the closer you got to your destination, and the closer you got to rehearsing for your trip. He was kind enough not to mention your nerves as he drove, letting the radio play softly to fill the silence.

Phil had been thrilled when you told him you’d decided to join him on his mission to Paris. He promised you would love it, raving about the times he’d been. He didn’t often get to sightsee while he was there, but he did mention loving the food. Your excitement grew the more he talked about the country, wondering just how much you’d get to see in the few short days you were there. When Phil had asked to get together to go over the mission, you’d agreed. It wasn’t until he mentioned practicing your fake relationship that your stomach felt unsettled.

“We need to look comfortable around each other,” he’d reminded you. “If an enemy sees us flinching, or looking out of sync, that could be the difference between life or death.”

You hadn’t been close to a man that wasn’t Jack in years. Even before the two of you were married, you’d been dating for 2 years before that. The last time you’d even held hands romantically with another man had been on a date to see Love Actually in theatres! You didn’t know how to be with anyone but Jack anymore.

You watched as he pulled off the highway, navigating his way into the woods. He pulled into a small clearing where an old tow-behind camper sat. It was a light brown colour with an orange stripe around the middle and it reminded you of the 80s. The retractable awning was out, but the fabric was all torn up, flapping in the breeze. There were no lights on inside, but the cheap string lights along the awning were lit. You stepped out of the car, unable to the grimace on your face as you took in the rundown appearance of the place.

“Do you live here?” You asked skeptically.

“No,” Phil laughed as he ushered you towards the door. His hand on the small of your back made you jump. “It’s just a safe house.”

You said nothing, trying to relax at the warmth of his hand pressing into you through your clothes. He dropped his hand as he unlocked the door and you felt more at ease again. He stepped up into the trailer first, turning the lights on ahead of you.

You followed, closing the loud squeaking door behind you. The interior was just as dated as the exterior. Oranges and browns took over most of the décor. Fake wood paneling on the walls and the air is musty and stale.

“See, this is why we need to practice.” Phil spoke once the door was closed. “Even my hand on your back made you freeze up.”

“I’m sorry,” you laughed, feeling ridiculous. “It’s just…”

“It’s okay, I understand.” Phil chuckles, opening the fridge. “Beer?”

You’re about to decline automatically when you rethink it. One drink wouldn’t get you wasted, but hopefully it would help to take the edge off the nerves sending you for a loop. “Sure.”

Phil pops the top off two bottles and sits heavily on the brown bench seat. He holds one out to you as he nods next to him, inviting you to sit down.

You take the bottle, sitting down and taking a drink. As you do, Phil moves closer to you and it nearly makes you choke on the cold beer. You quickly swallow, which you’re glad to have done when you feel the weight of his arm drape over your shoulders.

“You need to relax,” he reminds you softly, his warm breath brushing against your cheek from how close he is. “It’s just me.”

“I know, I know.” You nod, breathing deeply as you try to force your shoulders to relax. You aren’t sure if you’re telling him or reassuring yourself at this point.

“If we’re going to pass for husband and wife, you need to let me touch you. Just imagine I’m your husband.” He continued, letting his thumb brush up and down your bicep. You could tell he was trying to be comforting, but it wasn’t working.

Thinking of Jack made your stomach churn. You felt guilty, sitting here with Phil instead of being at home with him. You were upset he’d been gone so much lately, but here you were with in an old camper with another man.

“Phil, I don’t know if I can-”

“I need you, Trisha.” He cut you off, his face directly in front of yours. When had he gotten that close? “The Government needs you.”

You opened and closed your mouth, searching for something to say. You felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. There was the mission but- You didn’t want this excitement anymore, and the government could shove it. You just wanted to go back home to Jack.

“Time to bite the bullet.” Phil told you, and it was the only warning you had before his lips were on yours.

You froze, completely unmoving except for your wide eyes and Phil tried to coax you to kiss him back. You managed a squeak as you tried to push him away, but he just pulled you in tighter. You dropped the bottle of beer you were holding, barely even hearing it clatter to the floor as you pushed his chest with both hands.

“Phil, it’s too fast-” You tried to tell him but he kept pressing his lips to yours, making it hard to speak. His hand wrapped around the back of your neck, his other hand massaging your thigh and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to imagine it was Jack touching you. Except Jack didn’t feel like this. Even if your relationship hadn’t been as exciting lately as it once was, it was always special with Jack. He would never push you like this.

“Relax, Trisha.” Phil breathed into your ear before kissing your neck. It sent a shiver down your spine but not in a pleasant way. It felt wrong. You needed space.

“N-no. I can’t.” You shook your head, pushing harder against him. He didn’t listen, his hands and his lips continuing their explorations.

“Phil, stop. I can’t do this. I can’t.” You repeated like a mantra as you tried to push him off. Your arms started shaking with the force and the fear that was starting to spread through you. You’d said no, you didn’t want this.

He tried to slide between your legs, but you managed to plant your foot against his stomach and kick him back. He fell backwards off the bench seat, startled at your sudden burst of strength.

“I can’t!” You cried, curling up on yourself and backing away, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as you could. “I can’t do this!”

Phil was breathing heavily, looking at you with wide eyes. He was shocked you’d pushed him away. “Trisha-”

“That’s not my name!” You interrupted him, your mind swimming with what had happened. “I can’t… I’m not your… You’ll have to find someone else.”

“Please, you’re the only person I trust.” He cooed, reaching out until his hand touched your ankle. You jumped at the touch, kicking him away. His flattery didn’t work this time, the feeling of his lips on your skin too fresh.

“I don’t care! I can’t do this!” You shouted, keeping your voice firm.

The lights in the trailer went out suddenly, stopping Phil from saying anything more. You looked around, all the more fearful now that you were alone in the dark with him. Before you could ask what was going on, a blinding light shone in through the front window and you could hear helicopter blades louder than you’d ever heard before. You sat up, trying to block the light from your eyes. Sparks jumped through the walls, making you scream. They moved, cutting through the cheap paneling of the trailer until the entire front end fell off. The light was blinding, the wind from the helicopter surging around you in an overwhelming way. Phil stumbled as the wall gave way, falling back onto you.

“What- Get off!” You screeched, trying to free yourself from under him. Silhouetted by the light, two men ran into the trailer, making you scream. The door was kicked in with a loud bang, two more men running in so you and Phil were surrounded. You squeezed your eyes closed in fear as you heard the clicking of a gun near you, unable to stop yourself from screaming in fear once more.

Phil was ripped off of you but you were petrified stiff. You could barely hear Phil reasoning with the men over your own shrieks and the sound of the helicopter. Another man hauled you up by your arm, pulling you out of the trailer.

“Please! I didn’t do anything!” You begged as he pushed you ahead of him, his hands quickly taking hold of your shoulders. The wind outside was worse, the light too bright as you continued to beg to be let go. The man said nothing, only heightening your panic. You couldn’t see where he was leading you, but you knew you had to get away. Realizing his hold wasn’t too tight, you lurched forward out of his grasp. You spun around, blindly kicking out at him. You heard him grunt as you connected, but you didn’t stop to check if he was down. You turned and ran as fast as you could away from the trailer.

The helicopter’s search light followed you, making it hard to tell where you were running. You dodged trees that appeared in your vision at the last second, your breath coming in panicked gasps.

A van screeched to a halt in front of you, cutting off your escape. You moved to run around it but you were grabbed from behind. Two large arms wrapped around you and lifted you off the ground. You flailed, trying to kick backwards. When you didn’t connect, you leaned down and bit his arm as hard as you could. You heard him grunt as he dropped you.

You only got a few steps away before something hit you on the head. You stumbled, grabbing the back of your head as pain bloomed through your skull. You didn’t stop, staggering forward. You couldn’t stop.

Black dots clouded your vision as you were grabbed once more. You were hauled over the man’s shoulder. You protested, demanding he let you go as your strength failed you. Your vision grew darker as you were dropped into the back of the van. You only had a moment to take in the man, a tactical style vest and balaclava over his face, before you lost consciousness.

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