#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

[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

[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.

[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.

[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.

[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."

[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.

More chapters on AO3

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.

More chapters on AO3

[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.

tagging @wickedfrsgrl @din-damn-djarin @dinthisisthe-wayson @vonschweetz @insideafictionaluniverse @driedgreentomatoes @computeringturtle @thottiewinemom @phoenixhalliwell @sheerfreesia007 @and-claudia @weirdowithnobeardo @massivecolorspygiant @mrstaekim @chibi-liz05 @adrieunor @ilikechocolatemilkh @thirstworldproblemss @dynishot @diamond-doritos @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi

[onlysarah235678]

A Little Bit Part 20

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

A/N: 🙃 Hi. I hope everyone’s had a nice weekend. Here’s more of your favorite medium, but first, look at this gif.

Warnings: angst and mention of dead animals

The rest of your time at Billie’s had been more enjoyable than you could have hoped for. The two of you spent a lot of time together, with Milo too of course, and you even risked going out again. Luckily you had been able to enjoy your time together without incident and you were reluctant to go home the next morning. You would have loved to stay with Billie for longer, but it was time to go back to work.

You and Milo had finally returned home on Sunday, and you’d immediately realized how much you had to do before work on Monday. You’d gone shopping, did laundry, cleaned a lot of your apartment before collapsing at 10. You wake up Monday morning torn between excitement and dread about going back to work. You are excited to be busy again, and to see all of your patients, but you aren’t excited about potentially facing the media and tiring yourself out.

You didn’t bother texting anyone to see if the reporters are there because you doubted anyone would be at work yet. You lock your door behind you before leading Milo down the hallway. You stifle a yawn before leaning against the wall while you wait for the elevator to reach your floor. You consider texting Billie but it was really early, so you decide to at least wait until you got to work.

You are leaving a little early because you want to have time to catch up on what you missed, so you and Milo arrive a whole hour before opening. Most of the assistants aren’t even here yet, but you hadn’t run into any reporters so you’re happy. Since you are here so early, you take Milo upstairs with you and after putting his bed back under your desk you both settle in.

When lunch time rolls around, you are grateful of the fact that Dr. Stewart put breaks into your schedule this week. You’re feeling okay, but your headache is starting to come back. You’re stressing about how much you have to catch up on when your phone goes off. You sigh before realizing that it’s Billie, and you smile widely as you read her message.

You know she has a busy week, but that doesn’t start until tomorrow, so you are going to take advantage of any free time Billie has. It doesn’t even seem odd to be so excited to talk to the blonde again. It’s barely been 24 hours since you’ve seen her, but you’re quickly responding to her message. You’re not really free, but you figure a few minutes on the phone won’t hurt.

You glance to the schedule before you skip ahead a week to double check the time that you had scheduled all seven of the cats to come in. Before leaving Billie’s yesterday, Bit had escaped outside and neither you nor Billie had been in the mood to run after her. Milo had of course, but luckily he had already been attached to his leash so he didn’t get far. You had joked that whenever she came back, Billie would have to bring her in to get spayed. She could get into a lot of trouble relatively quickly.

You had been kidding of course, but then you’d actually talked about it for a while before Billie decided that she wanted it done ASAP. So now you had Bit’s surgery in the morning, and Billie’s appointment with the other cats late enough in the afternoon that she could just take them all home at once.

Guess who made it home?

Billie had attached a picture of Bit sitting in the living room grooming herself and you laugh. You ask Billie if she wants to keep her appointment before turning your attention to lunch. You leave your office and walk down the hall to the kitchen so you can grab your lunch. You’re glad that you went shopping yesterday because you really don’t want to chance an encounter with reporters this week. You sneak a peek at the boarding cats before heading back to your office with a sigh. You sit back down before turning your attention to your computer when it chimes at you. You answer some emails before you finally get to you lunch, and at that point you remember to check your phone.

Yes, please.

You smile before asking how her day has gone so far before returning to work. You’re typing up a medical record while eating your sandwich when your phone lights up again. You’d turned off the sound because it had been aggravating your headache. That said, you don’t realize that you have a new message until you have two and you curse under your breath as you grab your phone.

How has your day been, sweetheart?

You’re on lunch now right?

You respond by telling Billie how your day has been and that you honestly are ready to go home. You talk for a while before you have to get back to work, but you ask Billie when she’ll be free. You are already dreading the idea of having to go back to your apartment alone tonight, but you suppose that’s what you get for spending so much time at Billie’s.

Billie spent most of the morning figuring out her week. She talked to Michelle for a while about the many things she had planned and how she was going to be kept busy up until her show aired. Billie was conflicted because she was glad to work, but she was also exhausted. She wanted a break, and she certainly didn’t want to deal with more assholes like she had on Friday. She and Michelle had talked about this a lot and the solution you’d both come up with was deceptively simple.

Just stick to the same story every time, and don’t crack under pressure. Billie still hadn’t told you about what Dave had asked, and she wasn’t sure if you’d bothered to look it up. This meant that she hadn’t been able to ask you about what she could say on TV. You had agreed to her telling the basics about you, your job, recent move, and all of that, but nothing about your personal life.

You certainly hadn’t mentioned your dad which is why Billie was trying not to either. That said, it was only working so well when people zeroed in on that one article or anything else they could use to bring him up. She knew you hadn’t gotten over his death yet, for several reasons, but she didn’t want to be the one to bring it up again. Billie knew that you had to come to terms with it on your own time, but it just made things difficult for her. Well, she was the one making things difficult for herself by refusing to talk to you about it. She didn’t want to risk you asking about the interview, so Billie was sticking to her ‘nothing more than the basics’ for now and hoping that it didn’t backfire again.

After Bit had returned from her sudden, albeit brief escape, Billie had tried to look her over. She wanted to make sure she hadn’t gotten hurt or too dirty while out there, but she’d had limited success. She only got as far as scratching her head and reaching for her stomach before Bit hissed and fled upstairs. Billie didn’t bother trying to stop her, she seemed fine enough, and Billie spent the rest of the morning alone.

It was odd having the house so empty. After you and Milo had stayed for a nearly a week, it was difficult to get used to the silence. Neither of you had made much noise honestly, but even just the sound of you shifting on the couch, or Milo’s collar clinking made Billie smile. She’d grown to like having the two of you here, but still she’d let you leave.

It was too early in your relationship to think about that, so Billie just pushes the thought to the back of her mind. Maybe in a few months you two can talk about the idea of moving in together.

You and Billie text for a little while longer before you have to go back to work. You’re glad that your afternoon is full of wellness visits, and as you get ready for your first appointment, you wonder if that was intentional. You don’t think about it long before you are meeting your assistant for the afternoon to get a history for the next patient.

You’re seeing an older dog, Rudy, who is relatively new to your practice. He’s a very sweet dog, but his owners are a little odd. Maybe you’re just too introverted for them, but you think that even an extrovert would find their questions a little invasive.

Luckily, it’s a quick visit and they don’t even mention your relationship which is a relief. The focus is on Rudy, as it should be, and you are grateful that no one seems to really care about you today. In between appointments you’re drinking water and working on medical records. You occasionally check your phone to see if Billie’s texted, but you have no new messages. You frown slightly before forcing yourself to get back to work.

The end of the day sneaks up on you, and you have maybe half a dozen records to finish when Dr. Hahn tells you she’s leaving. You curse under your breath after she leaves as you look at the clock. You need to feed Milo, but you still have maybe an hour of work to do. You sigh before jumping up and taking the stairs two at a time. You smile at Mina before running into the kennel to  get your dog.

“Hi Milo. Do you want dinner?”

Milo of course just barks and spins around until you let him out. You smile before scratching his head and waving him along. You feed him before letting him out in the yard for a while. You didn’t give him as much time outside today as you usually would and you feel a little bad about it. For this reason, you end up sitting with him for nearly 15 minutes before you remember you have work to do still.

You lead Milo back inside and up the stairs to your office. You don’t like leaving him in the kennel after hours, and since he’s good and just sits at your feet you let him stay with you. You’re yawning by the time you’ve finished the first couple of records, and you are tempted to leave when your phone goes off. You sigh and force yourself to finish the section you’re typing up before looking to see what Billie says.

No one else has texted you today, so you assume it’s her.

You’re right and you smile when you realize that Billie is checking in on you. It’s almost 8 and you groan when you realize how late you’ll be here tonight.

Are you still at work?

You respond saying that you are and will be for a little while before putting your phone back down. You glance down at Milo, confirming that he’s asleep and snoring before you start typing again. Billie is in the middle of trying to wrangle the kittens when your reply comes in. Since you and Milo left, she realized that it was safe for the kittens to roam around supervised. She was downstairs with all of them now, and definitely regretting her decision to do this.

As Billie holds Mickey in her sweatshirt pocket, he was almost getting too big for it, she hurries to pick up two other kittens that were at her feet. She was attempting to get them all back to the laundry room after being out for a while, and it was proving more difficult than she imagined. She sighs in defeat as she watches the other three attempt to jump on the furniture, or bother Bit. She was going to need a drink after this.

She had underestimated how tiring it would be to spend time with them like this. One hour had quickly turned into two. It was adorable watching them all wobble around, and clumsily chase clumps of Milo’s hair that they found on the ground. They were all getting so big that Billie wasn’t sure how she’d manage to get all of them to the vet next week.

Her main concern right now though was getting them all back into their room. She knew she had to spend more time letting them out like this, but she was going to be busy for the next few days. She had a couple of meetings with her producers and Michelle in addition to another couple of interviews. Billie opens the laundry room and sets the three kittens on the ground before going back to get the remaining three.

She tries to chase one down, and he or she, she’s not sure, runs into the kitchen and Billie sighs in defeat. She follows the little one to the back door and watches as she jumps up and puts her paws on the glass.

“Come on little one.”

Billie reaches down and grabs the kitten, smiling slightly as it purrs so loudly that Billie feels the vibrations. She turns to go track down the other two when her phone goes off again. She smiles until she realizes that it isn’t you, and she leaves it be for now before going off in search of the last two stragglers.

You finally finish working around 9, and you’re exhausted by the time you finish locking up. You take Milo’s leash in one hand and grab your things with the other before heading to the parking lot. You don’t even spare the rest of the lot a glance, not caring if they’re there before you throw your things in your car. You get Milo situated in the back and pretty soon you’re on your way home.

You stifle a yawn as you turn onto the road with an exhausted sigh. You’re not looking forward to going home despite feeling like you’re going to fall asleep the second your head hits your pillow. You get home in record time too since there isn’t much traffic and you sigh as you pull into the closest parking spot you can find. You sit in the car with the engine off just staring off into space before you’re interrupted.

“Shit, Milo stop.”

You push Milo away as he sits up and licks your face to get your attention. He just whines when you tell him to sit, and you only get another few seconds reprieve before he’s pawing at you. You groan in defeat before getting unbuckled and opening your door. Milo isn’t going to let you delay this any longer, so you don’t bother even trying. You get him hooked up to his leash before grabbing your things and leading him inside. You make it to your apartment quickly and you close the door behind you before watching Milo run to the couch. You look around with a frown before heading toward the kitchen. You drop your things before opening the fridge for a drink. It’s late and you should just go to sleep, but you don’t want to.

Instead, you sit next to Milo on the couch with your phone and a glass of wine. You sigh as you look to your phone with a yawn. It’s late, but you are sure that Billie is still up. You want to at least say goodnight, or let her know that you’re home. She had asked you to check in after all.

You didn’t expect her to pick up on the second ring.

“Hi, Y/N. Are you finally home?”

You smile before nodding to yourself with an exhausted sigh. You tell Billie how you just got back and that you are tired enough to crash. You hear her laugh at this and you can’t help but wonder what she’s doing right now. You turn to Milo before patting your lap, and you smile as he hurries to lie down on you.

“What are you up to, Billie?”

Billie smiles as she turns to Mickey who is bouncing around on the floor at the end of the bed. She’s watching him from where she’s leaning against the headboard with a glass of wine in one hand. She mentions what she’s been up to for the past 15 minutes and you laugh when she mentions her kitten adventures from earlier today.

“Really? All 6 of them? How did that go?”

You laugh as Billie groans under her breath. She was glad that she’d been able to give the kittens some much needed play time, but she was exhausted. She was close to crashing despite not having worked much today, but she’d wanted to wait at least until she heard from you.

“It was hectic for sure, but they were so cute. I wish you could have seen them.”

Both of you smile at the thought before you’re nodding in agreement. You scratch Milo behind his ears, your smile widening at how cute he looks as he just stares at you.

“Me too.”

The two of you sit in silence for a little while just lost in thought before Billie finally speaks up. You’re looking at your empty glass on the table in front of you while Billie’s picking up Mickey to take him back to his siblings and Bit.

“I miss having you here, sweetheart.”

You smile at Billie’s words blushing slightly as you lean against the couch with a sigh. “You do?”

Billie just nods before she returns to bed and sits down with a frown. She looks to the empty side for a moment and wonders how a few nights of sleeping in the same bed with you did this to her.

“I do. I wish you were here with me.”

You picture Billie lying in bed as she says this, and you can’t help but want to be there with her. You just know that when you go up to bed you will miss being near Billie. You’ll miss her presence, her warmth, and you will especially miss the feeling you get when she holds you close. You don’t realize that you haven’t responded until Milo snaps you out of your reverie with a loud yawn.

You smile and Billie chuckles before you manage to find your voice again. You try not to sound too much like you’re pouting when you speak up.

“Me too. We need to have another sleepover, Billie Dean.”

Billie laughs before agreeing with a wide smile. The two of you talk for almost an hour before you aren’t able to stop yawning. You don’t want to, but you end up hanging up and heading to bed. You tell yourself that you can wait until Friday rolls around to see Billie again, but you’re not entirely sure. It’s going to be a rough week not only because you’re easing back into things, but because of your impending birthday. It will definitely be on your mind, and not in a good way.

You try not to worry about that now as you get ready for bed. You go through your normal routine and half an hour later you crawl into bed. You watch as Milo does the same at the other side of the room, and you just sigh before turning off the light. You close your eyes and groan in defeat as you roll over and hide your face in your pillow. You turn again until you’re staring at the ceiling, and your mind begins to wander to a certain medium.

You close your eyes again and the first thing that comes to mind is Billie Dean’s charming smile. You imagine her smiling at you, and you can practically smell her perfume as you picture being pulled in for a hug. You smile at the thought of her laughing at one of your dumb jokes, and you are eventually able to fall asleep at the memory of Billie lying beside you.

Billie on the other hand was not asleep yet. She was tired enough for sure, but she couldn’t relax enough to lie down. She was on her second cigarette when she decides to look at her phone for a while. Mindlessly scrolling sometimes helped her sleep, but tonight it was stressing her out. It just made her think about everything that she had to do tomorrow, so she put it down quickly before heading downstairs.

She gets another stronger drink before heading back upstairs. She doesn’t make it back to her room because Bit is yowling and needs to be let out before she wakes the neighborhood. Billie sighs watching as Bit runs down the hall and down to the first floor before she sticks her head in the laundry room. Most of the kittens are sleeping, but of course there was one straggler.

“Mickey.”

The kitten turns, either at his name or Billie’s voice, and hurries over to her. She smiles as he comes to a clumsy stop at her feet and she laughs before picking him up. She holds him close and lets him play with her hair, but when he reaches out for her drink, she shakes her head.

“Not for you, little one. It’s time for bed.”

After she gets Mickey settled, Billie heads back to bed. She’s already finished her drink watching Mickey, so she leaves the empty glass on her bedside table before heading to the bathroom. She needs to get to sleep soon. She’s already going to have one hell of a week. The last thing she needs is to be sleep-deprived.

Billie isn’t convinced that this won’t be the case whether she sleeps or not. Last night she’d had difficulty sleeping, and she doesn’t want to think about why. Instead, Billie sits in bed and finishes off her cigarette, dragging it out for nearly a half hour before she falls into a fitful sleep.

You’re so deep in sleep that you don’t hear the series of knocks at your door the next morning. It’s almost half an hour before you alarm is supposed to go off, and you do not want to get up yet. Milo; however, hears them and he sits up before looking at your door. He starts growling as the knocks continue before he stands up and heads out of your room and downstairs.

He yawns on his way to investigate when the knocking stops. There is nothing out of the ordinary, and Milo hurries to the front door to sniff around. He smells something on the other side of the door and he starts pawing at it insistently. He whines as he tries to stick his face under the door, but not even his nose will fit. He lies down on his side and sees that there is something in front of the door. He tries to reach under the door but his paw is too big and he just whines again before scratching at the bottom of the door for a minute.

Eventually he gives up and just stares at it from the floor. About twenty minutes later he hears something shift from behind the door and he sits up suddenly. His ears twitch and he starts to sniff again before he hears the sound again.

He barks a couple of times before he runs back upstairs to your room. He barks again, startling you from your sleep, before jumping on you with a series of loud whines. You groan in annoyance as you roll over and try to push him off of you.

“Milo go away! It’s only 6!”

You honestly consider giving Milo to the next person you see when he pulls the covers off your bed and leaves you cold and very much awake.

“Milo!”

You sit up and glare at your dog who just drops and steps on all of your sheets before coming back to jump on you again. He whines as he tries to grab onto you, but you’re not really wearing many clothes, so he gets skin and you curse under your breath. Clearly he wants your attention.

“Alright, Milo. Stop! What is it? What do you want?”

Milo jumps off the bed and runs to the door before looking back at you. He barks and you groan loudly before following him down the hallway.

This better be good.

You follow Milo downstairs to the front door thinking that he just wants a walk. He jumps up on the door and claws at it and you quickly push him down with a scowl.

“Milo, no! Go get your leash.”

You are surprised when he doesn’t listen and instead just whines and tries to open the door again. You sigh before moving him out of the way before you unlock the door. You are about to step out into the hallway and see what has him so riled up, but you don’t make it that far. You nearly run into a box that was placed right in front of your door. You frown as you look down at the sketchy cardboard box in front of you.

You’re reluctant to open it, but Milo doesn’t give you much of a choice as he comes up behind you and practically shoves his face into it. You move him away before you peek in and you nearly curse as you realize what is in it.

“What the…?”

Billie Dean is already at the studio getting ready for her next interview when her phone rings. She had only gotten 5 hours of sleep, and she’d had to ask Michelle about a half dozen times who she was being interviewed by. Billie was on her third cup of coffee and she nearly spills it on herself when she jumps in surprise as her phone vibrates.

She curses under her breath as coffee spills on the floor, and she’s more than a little annoyed when she grabs her phone. When she sees it’s you; however, her frown turns to a smile and she answers quickly despite the fact she doesn’t have but maybe a minute to talk.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

You don’t respond immediately because you’re too busy staring at the box you’d managed to put on your counter. You didn’t really want it there, but Milo kept trying to get to one of the kittens inside.

Yes. Someone had left kittens at your doorstep. The first and hopefully the last time someone did something so cliché and quite frankly cruel to you. There had been five kittens in the box but only two were alive by the time you got to them. You had checked three times before separating them from their live siblings and hurrying to get dressed for work. You couldn’t help them much here, but from what you could tell they were in decent condition.

You’d wrapped them up in towels and piled them back in the box before realizing that there was a note at the bottom of it. You held it in your hands, and were still staring at it when Billie picked up. You open your mouth to say something, but you can’t find the words.

“Y/N?”

You had almost forgotten that Billie was supposed to be at an interview now, or soon, you weren’t really sure what time it was. This had thrown you off so much you honestly didn’t know if you’d walked Milo yet. Luckily he was just sitting by patiently, watching you and sniffing for the kittens that were almost as young as Billie’s had been when she’d first brought them in.

“Hi Billie. Uh-.”

You trail off as you try to figure out how to explain this. You read the note one last time before throwing it on the counter with a sigh.

“Something’s happened.”

Billie is still a little distracted when the interview starts. She had only been able to talk to you for a few minutes before she had to leave. You had told her as much as you could before apologizing for interrupting her morning. You had to get to work anyway, but you couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was going on. Rather, who the hell had left you a box of kittens and a creepy ass note?

You make it to work on time, somehow, and despite your hectic morning you smile at the first person you see as you enter the building. Erin. You had already put Milo in his kennel after giving him a little extra breakfast for making him wait much longer than usual, so you are only holding the kittens when you greet Erin.

“Good morning, Erin.”

Erin smiles as she sticks her phone and keys in her pocket before doing a double take. She wasn’t sure what you were holding, but as she gets a little closer, she sees that the box is not a box of donuts like she’d originally thought. You notice her looking and you’re quick to explain the odd arrangement in your hands.

“Morning Dr. Y/L/N. What do you have there?”

You sigh as you put the box down on the treatment table. You really had wanted to get a different one because this one was falling apart, but you’d already been running late and you really didn’t have a suitable alternative, so here you were. You watch as Erin peeks into the box before repeating what you’d told Billie. Minus the cursing of course.

“Five kittens were left in this box in front of my door this morning. Only two were alive, and they seem pretty weak.”

Erin frowns as you say this, and she reaches into the box to pet the smaller kitten that is still wrapped in a hand towel. You don’t mention the creepy note. You’d only told Billie because you were a little freaked out. However, she’s managed to calm you down and say that it was probably some random creep from your building, not Doug.

You push these thoughts to the back of your mind before you nod at what Erin says next. You were only half listening but you hope that you assume correctly.

“That’s so sad and messed up. Who do you think left them?”

You sigh in defeat as you take the three dead kittens out of the box and set them on the table. You want to make sure that they’re taken care of before your first appointment.

“It really is. I’m not sure who left them. I honestly don’t know many of my neighbors.”

With Erin’s help, the two of you take care of all five kittens and figure out what you’re going to do with them before your first appointment. You know that they need to be taken care of and checked on frequently. You can’t ask any of the technicians to do that because they already have their hands full with surgeries this morning. So you spend all of your free time in between appointments taking care of them when you can and feeding them formula.

Your boss isn’t in today, but almost everyone knows about the kittens’ presence before lunch time. You know it is a lot of responsibility, taking care of practically newborn kittens, so you aren’t surprised when no one jumps at the chance to take them in. You are already thinking of places to call when your phone starts to vibrate from your pocket.

You put the kitten in your hands, you’ve named them already despite your better judgement, back in the bed you’ve made before you reach for your phone. You see it’s Billie and sigh before looking at the time. You are done with appointments for the morning, all you really need to do is walk Milo.

“Hi Billie.”

You answer the phone as you walk to the kennels to grab Milo. You can’t really hear what Billie says immediately because it’s a lot louder than you thought it would be. You grab Milo quickly before retreating to the yard where the labs are already playing. You smile at some of the assistants sitting on the benches before heading out further into the yard.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Billie had returned home a little while ago, and she had decided to check in on you since you should be on lunch. You had told her about the kittens and the note, but she’d literally been on her way to the interview so you hadn’t been able to really discuss it. She realizes that you are outside with Milo because she hears barking and traffic, but she doesn’t get to ask before you’re speaking again.

“Shit, I forgot. How was your interview this morning?”

You’re wandering around the yard, making sure not to step in any mud puddles or anything other than grass. You glance over to your dog who is running back and forth between dogs trying to steal a tennis ball, before you focus back on Billie’s voice when she speaks up.

“It was fine, Y/N. Not nearly as exciting as your morning though.”

You smile at this before you shake your head in disagreement. You weren’t sure why Billie never seemed to want to talk about her interviews. You always assumed that they were more fun than she made them seem, but you knew now wasn’t the time to talk about this.

“So you talked about your show?”

Billie sighs more to herself than at you as she takes another drag of her cigarette. She was exhausted already, and it was barely noon. She had a lot more to do today, but she definitely wasn’t in the mood. She would much rather help you take care of these new kittens.

“We did. Only a couple of weeks before it airs.”

You smile at this before nodding to yourself. You pet Milo as he comes to say hi to you, and you take the ball that he offers you with a smile. You look at it for a moment before you realize how covered in mud and saliva it is. You groan under your breath and chuck it across the yard before responding to Billie.

“That’s so exciting Billie. I can’t wait to watch it!”

You mean this and you smile wider when Billie laughs in return. You two talk a bit about how you are going to watch it together as soon as it airs. You throw around ideas and you’re already looking forward to a night of cuddling on the couch with Billie.

Eventually you change the subject to the kittens that you need to check on again. The smaller one that you’ve dubbed Charlie wasn’t doing so well. He, or she, you honestly couldn’t tell, wasn’t eating as much and barely moved. The other kitten, Bo, was bigger, more active, and would definitely be trouble. You could already tell from how much he moved around and refused to listen to you. Not that you really thought either of them understood much at their age.

Billie laughs at the news of the new kitten’s names. She wasn’t sure why she thought you wouldn’t have names for them yet. You had only told her about half a dozen times how you made sure every single animal you met had a name.

“You said Bo was the troublemaker?”

Billie’s putting out her cigarette as she watches the clock on the oven. She only has a few minutes before she needs to be on a conference call. You laugh before telling Billie a little more about the kittens. You are already head over heels for them, but you really can’t keep them. You sigh as you say this to Billie before throwing the ball for Milo one last time.

“They’re adorable, but they’re a lot of work as you know. I don’t think I can do it on my own.”

You have a full-time job that you may not be working full time at right now, but you will be once you recover. Milo is honestly the only pet you can have right now, but you can’t just dump the kittens on someone else. You just have to see what you can figure out. Make a few calls and hopefully find these two adorable gray kittens a good home.

It’s only 6 hours later that you are on your way home with Milo and two kittens. You aren’t surprised that you ended up in this situation. Despite all the effort you put into finding a shelter, foster family, literally anyone else to take these kittens, you had come up with nothing. Well, that wasn’t true. You came up with a possible lead that someone needed to check on, but that would take at least a couple of days. You weren’t sure that it wouldn’t fall through and you were already preparing yourself to take care of these kittens until they were, well as old as Billie’s cats were now.

You sigh as you open the door to your apartment carefully. You watch as Milo walks in first. You honestly hadn’t bothered putting his leash on because you had your hands full, but he was good and stuck by your side. This was mostly because he wanted to play with the kittens, but you would take what you could get at the moment because it seemed like you were getting very little.

You shut the door behind you with a sigh before locking it and heading to the kitchen. You’d gotten rid of the dirty old box from this morning and now had a small litterbox that was going to house the kittens until you bought a more suitable alternative. You look under the blanket that you had laid on top of the kittens and you smile as you watch them squirm. They are just waking up and you set the blanket back on them briefly before you put your bags down.

You brought home a lot of things for them and you were just now realizing how much as you set it all down in front of you. There was formula, more blankets since you didn’t have a bed for them, and an assortment of bowls. You cursed your inability to make decisions before you got to work making the kittens’ next meal.

Milo just watches as you run around the kitchen and feed the small mewling furballs. He tries to jump up and get a better look once you put them down, but he stops short as you grab the box they’re in and head to the living room. You sigh as you look around and try to figure out what to do next. How the hell are you going to make this work?

Billie is finally done working for the day. She is just about to check on the kittens for the last time when you call her. She’d asked Michelle to buy a pen that she could keep downstairs so they could spend more time outside of the laundry room. They were really starting to spend more time awake and it was entertaining to watch them sometimes. Billie returned to the kitchen for her phone before she headed toward the kittens. She saw it was you and smiled before answering.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

You smile despite how tired you are before collapsing on the couch with the kittens in your lap. Well, the box is in your lap and you just stare down at them as you sigh in exhaustion.

“Hi, Billie. How was the rest of your day?”

As Billie tells you about her busy day, you just watch the kittens squirm around. They aren’t very active, which isn’t surprising, but you still feel the need to watch them closely and make sure they don’t get into trouble. You don’t realize that Billie has stopped speaking until she calls your name twice. You cringe at the fact that you spaced out and missed who knows how much before you sigh again.

“Sorry Billie. I just got distracted by the kittens.”

Billie frowns slightly at this and she glances to her own kittens who are bouncing around excitedly. Mickey is tackling one of his siblings, and Billie swears her heart melts at the sight.

“You weren’t able to find anyone to take them off your hands?”

You shake your head before thinking back to what Mina had said. You relay this to Billie before you have to stifle a yawn. You don’t do a very good job though because Billie clearly hears it.

“Not yet. Mina might know someone, but she’s got to get in touch with them first. For now, they’re with me.”

Billie’s frown deeps as she thinks of all the reasons why she doesn’t like this. You’re still supposed to be taking it easy, and she knows firsthand how time-consuming taking care of kittens is. You sound exhausted and Billie is already thinking of different ways to help you out.

“I hope she finds someone for you soon, Y/N. You already sound exhausted.”

You know that Billie is only concerned about you, but you frown in annoyance because you don’t really have another choice. You’re going to take care of these kittens whether you really want to or not, but hopefully it won’t be for more than a couple of days.

When Thursday rolls around and you still have the kittens, you realize how naïve you’d been. The first couple of days were hell like you thought they would be, but there were little reprieves throughout the day while at work. Someone else would check on Bo and Charlie, everyone loved their names, or a cancellation in your schedule gave you more time to play catch up.

However, Thursday morning you’re not even at lunch yet and you have a raging headache. You’d stayed up late last night taking care of the kittens because when you went to check on them before bed, you noticed that Charlie wasn’t moving. You had hoped he was asleep, but he was actually blue and barely breathing. You had done what you could before rushing to the hospital where you stayed until only a few hours before you had to go to work.

Now you were falling asleep at your computer while you tried to work on a medical record. You reached for your water bottle since you couldn’t take any more pain meds right now, but you miscalculate and it tumbles to the floor spilling water everywhere.

“Shit!”

You hurry to pick up the bottle you stupidly left open and looked around for something to clean it with when there was a knock on your door. You turn, abandoning the mess for now, to see Mina standing in the doorway with a concerned look.

“Everything okay?”

You just nod before getting off the floor and sitting back in your chair. You cringe slightly as you nod which undermines your response but that’s okay for now. Luckily Mina has some news for you.

“All good, thanks. What’s up?”

Mina smiles as she tells you about her friend’s friend that finally figured out how she could take the kittens.

“She says that her parents will take her dog for a couple weeks so she can keep them until we can adopt them out.”

You sigh in relief before smiling widely at the news. You shoot Mina a grateful look before feeling yourself relax. The tension and stress that has built up for the past couple of days leaves your body and you feel lighter.

“Thank you, Mina. That’s great news! Do I need to meet them somewhere?”

Mina shook her head and said that she could take them to her after work today. You were tempted to hug her, but you had a lot of dog hair on you and probably some water, so you held back. Still you were smiling as you thanked her again. You were ready to sleep through the night again for sure.

“Thank you so much. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

The rest of the day goes much better for you because simply knowing that you will sleep better brightens your mood. You still have your damn headache, but even that gets better after the first couple of afternoon appointments. It’s not until the end of the day, that you realize you have to say goodbye to the kittens. At least for the next couple of weeks. You wander back to isolation where they’re being kept with a frown. You watch them just sleep and occasionally squirm for a few minutes before you realize that you’re no longer alone.

You move out of the way so Mina can join you in the small room before asking despite already knowing the answer.

“Time to go?”

Mina has all of her things and she just nods before moving to collect the kittens. They mewl a little at being disturbed and you smile at the adorable sight before holding the door open for her. You follow the brunette out and sigh as she turns to leave.

“See you soon kittens. Please thank her again for me?”

Mina just nods in agreement before she heads out to the parking lot, and you sigh again before remembering that you have your own things to collect before you can leave for the night. You don’t work tomorrow or this weekend, so you have a nice long time to catch up on some sleep.  You’re so eager to get home and sleep that you forget your phone upstairs, and you’re so tired you consider leaving it there. Deciding against it, you hurry to your office to grab it before running back downstairs to where your dog is whining impatiently. You silence him with a quick scratch before heading for the parking lot. You put your phone in your pocket without bothering to check it, so you miss the fact you have a couple of missed calls and two new text messages from Billie.

Are you still at work, sweetheart?

Do you want to come over after?  

Part 21

TAGLIST ❤: @madamevirgo​, @illuminated-blue​, @delias-bitch-craft​

[cosmiclatte28]

Purpose (Jeno x you)

a/n : sorry for ranting in the previous post, but here is my first oneshot of Jeno x reader ...please leave a comment or just anything so I know what to do and not do in my future works :D

happy MLK day! Enjoy the long weekend aka monday break! 

warning : major character with disability! Please proceed only if you feel okay with it. Jaehyun is your brother :D (sorry if I use hyung accidentally, it’s a habit of mine. I make my characters always calling the older brother hyung, so it sounds less “romantic”)

word count : 3.0K

Check out my other works in my masterlist 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : 

“Jeno, do you ever wonder what your purpose in life is?” you rolled to the side of your body and rested your weight on one of your supporting arms, eyes aimlessly piercing into Jeno’s side face.

The said man who was staring at the ceiling turned his head to look at you. In this small bed you share with your best friend, he pulls his face back to give some respectful distance in between.

He glances back to the ceiling and hums, “Umm interesting, let me think of it.” He ponders for a while and your hand accidentally brush his. He laughs when a sudden memory comes into his mind and he ignored your hand that’s still lingering next to his.

“Tell me! You’re laughing! Did you know your purpose of existence in life?” you shake his taller and built body. His arm really feels buff and hard right now. Sometimes you wonder where the hell did your ten years old lanky best friend go. You’re his partner in crime since third grade and both of you graduated junior school together, even now you’re counting days to your senior school graduation still with him. Only that puberty hits Jeno Lee like a truck and bam here lies a young charismatic man lying with you on your bed as if it is nothing. (Well it is nothing right? Just two best friends sharing a bed. Lmao okay sorry author is writing this at 3.30 am)

He giggles and bops your nose, “No. I am not going to answer it.”

You pout, unaware of the effect it gives to the young man beside you. “Fine, I guess my purpose in this life is to bug and bother you.” You taunt and Jeno really wants to smack your head right now, but that is something he will never do.

“Fine if your purpose is to disturb me, then my purpose is to bear with it and make sure you never go beyond your line or hurt yourself.” He says this out loud, and continues in his heart, “Again, I’ll never let anything, or anyone hurt you again.”

Jeno lifts his arm to run a smoothing hand on your hair and you’re no longer surprised by this. Actions like this is common between you and Jeno.

“I haven’t washed my hair, stop touching it,” you run your hand over your head to stop him.

He chuckles and just ignores your word, “I don’t care, it’s not dirty you know. You smell sweet.” He sniffs into your hair and indeed it is fresh. You’re being over insecure.

“Fine. So, what time is it?” you cock your head to the side, showing him you’re asking a question.

Jeno runs his eyes into the clock hanging in your room, “It’s almost five. Your brother will be home after this around six. Do you need anything?” he asks when he sees you sit up from your laying position and grabbing your cane.

You nod, “Can you bring me to the café shop by the end of the road? It’s Jaehyun’s birthday today and I want to give him a cake.”

Jeno couldn’t help but feel his heart swells with emotion. Even after the unfortunate accident that hit you and your brother on the road, but only took your vision away, you never hate your brother at all. Jeno remembers how petrified he was the day he got a call from his mother telling him to rush to the hospital because you ran into an accident.

Three years ago

“Catch me if you can! I will finish the cake before you can get any.” You taunt at your older brother and run with all your might to get home faster than he did so you can stuff the whole cake into your mouth.

Jaehyun was still paying the cake when you ran with it already. He yelled out loud to you when you ran whilst looking back into him. He was too late.

Jaehyun saw your body flew through the concrete and the box of cake you were running with was already crushed over. The owner of the van got down and quickly run you and Jaehyun to the hospital. Jaehyun hugged you throughout the way to the hospital, his white shirt is already drained in dark red blood. His happy face he had that day for turning 20 was gone. He can only wish his one and only sister will make it alive.

The hospital did their best in trying to bring your consciousness alive. Your head hit the concrete, but luckily there are no serious injuries in your head. Fractures are found in your left side of the body but what hurts Jaehyun and your parents the most, was the fact that you will not be seeing anything in less than three months.

The experts were called, and everyone agreed that sadly nothing can be done to prevent you from facing the total darkness. From the age of 14 you lost your sight, you lost your friends, you lost your confidence, you lost your will to live. You wanted to die, but Jeno would never let that happen. He saw potentials inside you, and he saw the beauty you have within your heart that more people should see.

Jeno was the first non-family member to visit you after the news was spread. He was the first one to stay by your side and the last one from your school society.

You were suggested to move to a special need school, but with Jeno’s constant reassurance and help you stay with him in the regular school. After school, Jeno will accompany you learn braille and follow you to your post-traumatic therapy too. He even listened to the specialist called to teach you how to walk with a cane and how to use your cane as your second eye. He did struggle a lot to not play around with your service dog, because Goldy (your golden retriever who helps you walk in public) is not supposed to be friendly, Goldy needs to be alert!

Your family luckily didn’t abandon you, but they were sadly not in the same country as you were right now. Today, you’re only living with Jaehyun and Jeno is practically your neighbour from the flat next door.

Jeno actually did not want to bring you to the same store that caused the dreadful unfortunate event to happen to you. Not in the same day, on the same spot.

“You sure? I can buy it for you while you wait here.” He sounds worried that your post traumatic nerves might act up and calming you down in a crowded room is not easy.

You nod your head, “It’s been three years Jeno. Don’t worry. Jaehyun has never eaten that cake for three years! He did not want to go there. I guess my brother is more traumatized than me. I also want that damn cake.” You already stand up and grab a jacket. Without his help, you’re already good in dressing up. If you wear glasses, no one will know about your condition. The fractures healed perfectly, your face is still as pretty as one can be, it’s just that your eyeball did not spark life in them.

Jeno sighs, he can do nothing if you’re this persistent. “Okay, but please just this time hold my hands okay?”

You nod. Usually you ask Jeno to just walk beside you a several step behind, just to guard you. You’re good in walking with the help of Goldy. You never want to be a burden, although Jeno repeatedly tells you he doesn’t see you as a burden.

The tall man also takes his jacket and wallet. He stands by your side, gives his arm to you and you take it gently. Your right hand is holding Goldy’s leash and with Jeno by your side, three of you make your way to the bakery.

“Nice weather, it’s not crowded eh?” you ask when you feel the gentle breeze and rather quiet sound of the road. Usually this road is busy but not at the moment.

“Yes, I think it’s not the rush hours yet. We should hurry before it gets crowded. Hold on tight we’re crossing the road.” Jeno looks right and left. When he feels your grip tighten, he smiles to himself as he crosses the road with you carefully. Finally, you’re not as stubborn as usual!

You step into the store and automatically a smile comes to your face when the fragrance smell of sweet fresh baked pastries tickle your nose. “Hmmm this is yummy! We should consider living next to a bakery Jen!” you excitedly squeeze his arm you’re still holding on to and Jeno just smiles at your remarks.

“Do you want to sit down? I can order you a tea while they customize the cake.” Jeno asks, you deny it saying that you just want to go back quick before Jaehyun did.

So, after you do your ordering and finished the payment, Jeno only has to help with writing down the customized message. After 15 minutes, the box is set in Jeno’s right hand while his left hand is occupied with your firm grip.

You enjoy the short walking distance, simply enjoying the light breeze of the gentle wind and stopping for a moment to inhale the different smell in every block.

With your sharp nose, you know when you’ve passed by the coffee shop, the flower boutique, and your favourite Pizza place. You’ve ordered food for dinner and they’re already in your kitchen, you just need to reheat it.

--

Jaehyun drives his car back home, it’s a wonderful day. He got promoted thanks to the successful product launching his team did last month and today is also his birthday. Although a small part of his heart still grief over his own sister’s lost of sight on his birthday, he always try to cover that guilt because you’ve been repeatedly telling him not to bother it. He doesn’t know what he did in the previous life to actually deserves a really sincere and kind sister like you. That is also why Jaehyun loves you with all his might and heart.

He steps his foot into the comfortable apartment he shares home with his sister, and a trail of laugh echoes through the room when he sees you and Jeno holding a cake with a well decorated place. Jeno rushed his décor, simply putting on Happy Birthday Jaehyun balloons and draping a golden curtain over the bare walls.

“Happy Birthday Jaeeee!!” you scream on top of your lungs and open your arms wide. Jaehyun picks you up in his hug and turns you around, “Thank you! And you too Jeno!” he pats the younger’s shoulder.

“Blow the candles!!” you clap your hands and Jaehyun did what you say. He wipes a tear that escapes his eyes but quickly covers it up with a smile. He secretly wishes so that your smile will always be this wide and he wishes to experience more happy times with you.

“Both of you don’t have to do this you know,” Jaehyun says after putting the final heated up dish on the dining table. Although he is the one having birthday, he didn’t want you to set the table up. So, here you are seated on your chair, with Jeno on the other side.

“She insisted.” Jeno snickers.

You swear if he is on your side right now, you’ll slap him. Lucky he is far from your reach.

“Can’t you just be thankful hyung?” you roll your eyes and hufth.

Jaehyun lovingly ruffles your hair and kisses your cheek “Araseo, Thank you sweetie and you too Jeno! Thanks for dealing with this super annoying princess.” His tone sounds playful and you laugh at it.

“Jeno is whipped for me, he won’t bother having to take care of me all the time. Right Jeno?” you ask him this as a matter of keeping the spirit up. It’s as if you’re only playing around to Jaehyun’s joke but deep inside your heart… you did wish Jeno will want to take care of you til death takes you away from him.

“Stop that (y/n)! You’re making him uncomfortable,” Jaehyun mumbles as the three of you start digging into the dinner.

Jeno just laughs along, he is used to the two of you teasing and bickering with each other. He loves witnessing this and being in it. He loves the  warm feeling of being “home” whenever you are around. “Tell him the truth Jeno! Did you hate me for being annoying?” you suddenly feel a bit sad to ask him this. What if Jaehyun is right? What if Jeno is actually tired of you? Afterall he can get way better and prettier girls. Why did he stay with you if he doesn’t like you. You used to ask yourself that when you feel lonely at night.

Jeno looks into you and into Jaehyun. He somewhat senses you feeling down about asking this and that hurts his heart. After glancing at Jaehyun, and receiving a nod from the older brother. Jeno finally answers your question.

“You’re not annoying. Even if you are sometimes, you’re my annoying princess. Look, don’t be sad… I’ll never leave your side okay?” Jeno reaches his hand out to take yours into his. He gently take your palm into his and his thumb strokes your palm calmly. Sending a reassuring feeling to you.

You feel your cheeks burning and your stomach bursting with butterflies. Your heart can explode right now, with this soft touch of Jeno and how his sure answer ends all of your silly scenarios.

“You will never leave my side?” You echo back to him.

Jaehyun winks to Jeno and secretly leaves his chair. You snap your head to the side (luckily the right side because Jaehyun is on your right) “Where are you going?”

Jaehyun mumbles a quick excuse, “Needed to call someone for work, just remember… sorry it’s urgent, go continue without me.”

You return your head to face Jeno and the young boy is already thinking of his next line.

His thumb caresses your hand again and you love that sensation.

“So, to answer your previous answer... I love you (y/n).” his sincere honey deep voice sooths your ear and a warm sensation envelopes your heart.

“I love you and I will never leave you. I’ll be by your side just like now, until forever. Don’t feel bad for needing my help, I’m always happy when I can help you. Instead, I feel sad when I see you trying to do everything by yourself… It’s like you didn’t want my help.” Your bestfriend explains his own feeling to you.

You quickly shake your head, “Sorry Jeno, I didn’t mean to reject your help. Gosh, I’m just feeling like I’ve asked too much from you and that I should stop. It’s my fault.”

Jeno stands and moves to sit next to you, he brings a strand of hair away from your face clearing the view he loves and he wishes to wake up to every day.

“Don’t worry, I know you don’t mean it. Now, don’t hesitate to call me okay? I’ll be here for you.” Jeno gently touches your chin.

You nod and blush, “I love you too Jeno, it’s mutual.” You lean in closer, wishing Jeno can catch your signal and leads you to the thing you secretly put in your number one wishlist to do with Jeno.

He gets your signal, with a small smile the sweet man pulls you slowly into his face and as you tilt your head to the side, Jeno’s lips finally found yours.

It was fleeting but the sensation lingers for a while. You’re still busy controlling your heart beat when you feel Jeno already disappear from your side and Jaehun’s foot steps come into the kitchen again.

“So, what did I miss?” he looks into both of you, but judging through the red faces both of you have, he just lets out a small cough and giggles.

“Who’s ready for the desert? Cake is here!” he quickly takes the plates and cuts the cake into smaller portions.

You can successfully focus back on the dinner and continues talking around while enjoying the sweet chocolate mousse cake.

Dinner ends nicely, Jaehyun pushes both of you to the living room while he insists on washing the dishes with loud music blasting on his earphone. He is glad finally both of them come our to each other. He’s frustrated whenever he sees the clear mutual feelings both of you are trying to supress.

Turns out today is indeed a good day.

Jeno hugs you from the side when both of you sit at the sofa. He is cuddling you, who is sleepy from the filling dinner.

“Jeno, did you remember the question I asked you earlier?” you suddenly bring this topic up.

He hums, and holds your hand in his, “I did, I think I know my answer.”

You raise your brow, “What is it? Tell me.”

He steals a quick peck from your lips, “I’m going to find my purpose of living slowly with you by my side. We’ll explore new things everyday together, and when one day I really find my purpose, I’ll make sure you are there and you know it.”

You feel like all the chains and nightmares clinging into your subconsciousness is broken free. The insecure feelings of being less perfect is gone and you trust Jeno with all your heart that he loves you and he will not leave you.

You smile and run a hand on his jawline, “Then I will also hold your hand as I find my purpose in this life too. Thank you Jeno, for always staying by my side. I promise I will also be here for you whenever you feel like the world is against you.”

He kisses your knuckle of the hand that touches his cheek, “I know darling, now if you’re tired just sleep.”

You close your eyes and shifts your body until it is comfortable enough to hug him from the side while leaning into him. “Thank you and I love you Jeno.”

He whispers back, “Love you most (y/n). Sleep tight, sweet dreams” he pecks your forehead and stays until you’re asleep.

Tonight indeed is a good day for everyone of you!

   end.

tell me what you think xD

XOXO, cosmic

[wonderrdies]

if love be rough with you - pt.1 (pypfc)

In which you and Harry are professors at a prestigious Art and Language university but can’t stand each other. Well, you can’t stand him. 

disclaimer: I fucked up and won’t finish the thing in time for the pick your poison fic challenge (thank you and I’m sorry to @for-fucks-sake-h​ @oh-honey-styles​ @andwhenshesays​) so I’ll split it into two parts. Once I post the second one, I’ll link it down here. 

warnings: so far, so good. there’s gonna be fucking in the next one, though. 

word-count: about 4,000 words

If love be rough with you, be rough with love.

Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.

(Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare)

Your copy of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet fell to the wooden floor of classroom 103 with a dull thud. It was not your favorite play by any means, but teachers didn’t get much of a choice when it came to the syllabus at Markham. Art and Language students there had been learning the same things for generations, walking through ancient hallways with the pretentiousness of people who know they’re special because of more than just daddy’s money. 

Daddy’s money was still a big part of it, though. The fact you didn’t have it made it very obvious that, despite your mid-20s looking face, you were staff and not a student. Which, you said to yourself back when you started teaching at Markham, was fine. You made a mantra out of it in the beginning: It’s fine. I’m fine. When older professors and students didn’t take you seriously, when you were lonely, when the stone walls made you feel claustrophobia instead of wonder, when you had to begin working with Drama students instead of sticking to your comfort-zone in the Literature department. It’s fine. I’m fine. Three years later, it was true; you fit right in. You had learned to focus solely on the bright side of the school and the role you had to play, dressing and speaking and teaching like the classy and stone-faced intellectual you always wanted to be. With all your weaknesses safely tucked away, you felt like you probably were a better actress than most of your students. 

Considering you were 20 minutes ahead of schedule and no one was ever this early for class, bending over in your pencil skirt to pick Romeo and Juliet up didn’t seem like  a big deal. Until you heard the whistling. 

“All this for me?”

You took your time standing up, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Don’t be gross,” you laid the book back on your desk, crossing your arms as you stared at the man by the door. “Professor Styles.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he flashed you a dry smile, but his green eyes showed amusement. “Darling.”

The eye-roll couldn’t be held back any longer. “Piss off.”

No need to say you weren’t a classy and stone-faced intellectual when it came to Harry Styles. 

“Can’t piss off from my own classroom, can I?”

Seemingly not minding your frown, he walked into the room holding a worn leather case for what you could guess was an acoustic guitar. If he weren’t dressed in his usual expensive and obnoxious clothes, you’d be able to mistake him for a very handsome hobo. 

“No, but you can piss off from mine,” you pointed to the metal numbers on the door. “We’re in 103, Styles. I have it for the next three hours.”

“Funny,” he said before laying his guitar on the desk. It pushed your book away until you had to grab it so it wouldn’t, once again, fall to the ground. “Because my schedule says that I have it for the next three hours.”

“Indeed,” Romeo and Juliet falls on leather harshly, the sound pretty similar to the one it made while hitting the floor. “Hilarious.”

The rumbling of what could only be a herd of students began before Harry could come up with any clever remarks, making his head turn to the door expectantly. His pearl necklace accompanied his movement, and you tried not to stare too hard at the expanse of his neck or imagine what it would look like with a couple of bruises under those pearls. 

You snapped out of whatever that thought was before there was any need to overthink it. Over your colleague’s shoulder, you could see students, not all of them yours, entering the room. If it wasn’t clear before that there had been a mistake, it was now; Drama and Music students looked at each other suspiciously, whispering to their classmates like they were in primary school instead of university.

“Professor?” someone called. Both you and Harry turned to the desks arranged in a circle, all of them occupied. One of his students, standing on the corner, moved uncomfortably under your glare before speaking again: “Where should we seat? Is this a joint lesson or something?”

A joint lesson? You cringed at the idea. “No,” you said harshly. “There’s been a misunderstanding.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, his voice breezy when compared to yours. “We’ll sort it out, guys. Give us a few minutes.”

He made the two of you sound like a team, which was outrageous. The collar of your sleeveless turtleneck was, all of a sudden, way too tight. 

“You look constipated,” he muttered under his breath so only you could hear him. “Let’s go outside.”

“What for?” But you were already following him to the hallway. “Look, just get another classroom.”

“Why don’t you, if it’s that simple?” Harry asked while you closed the door behind you. 

“Because it’s a good classroom, the best in the building!”

“Is this how you plan on making me give it up?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning on the stone wall like he didn’t have a care in the world. He probably didn’t. 

“Harry,” you sighed. Your hand went to the tiny gold cross in your neck, nervously messing with it. You knew you were about to start pacing like a madwoman. “You could play that guitar anywhere on campus. Just let me have the damn room, alright?” 

“Do you think that’s all my lessons are?” He sounded upset.

A brief moment of guilt didn’t stop you from snapping at him. “Do you think I care?”

“No, I don’t,” Even though his voice remained calm, Harry straightened up. “I would never have such high expectations for you, darling.” 

You looked at him with a blank stare. Those green eyes without a hint of malice, the soft brown curls of his hair, the delicate pearls over a pastel blue sweater that had a fucking baby chick on it; seeing him, it was hard to believe he could be mean enough to hurt you. But he had, so you went with the most mature and eloquent answer you could muster: “Whatever,” mumbled under your breath.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. “Let’s just go to the administration and get this shit over with.”

His tone, finally bordering on annoyed, gave you some satisfaction. Maybe you two had more in common than you thought.

— 

Things between you and Harry hadn’t always been this hard. Back in university, among mutual friends and copious amounts of alcohol, he had been nicer. So had you. But Markham made the differences that seemed meaningless at 19 years old feel like deal breakers for any sort of healthy work relationship; his laid backness, so charming all those years ago, drove you insane now. He was a brilliant musician, of course, but was that really all it took? While you searched for the perfect balance between serious faculty member, approachable but slightly intimidating mentor, cultured academic, reliable friend and well-rounded human being, Harry simply seemed to always be a little late for everything that didn’t involve robbing you of your preferred classroom. Also, he flirted way too much, dressed like a sexy grandmother and never submitted grades when he was supposed to. 

“Hey,” he said, then called your name softly. “I think that’s enough.”

For a second, you thought he meant enough reasons to dislike him. Then you looked down at your overflowing cup of water and the puddle forming on the teacher’s lounge counter.

“Fuck,” you hissed, putting the glass jar back in its place.

“That sounds familiar,” Harry sipped his coffee like he hadn’t just said that in a room filled with ancient Markham professors.

You were torn between giving him a death glare or ignoring him altogether, so you just settled for a death glare directed at no one in particular while you wiped your wet hand on the side of your black skirt. 

“Professors,” greeted one of the Plastic Arts teachers, a sweet-looking old lady. She walked up to the counter so she could pour her coffee, standing between you and Harry in the process. “I take it the 103 debacle hasn’t gone smoothly.”

“Yeah, Mrs. Thomas,” Harry said, a playful smile suddenly on his lips. “Someone here doesn’t know when to give up.”

“Don’t talk about yourself in the third person, Professor Styles. It’s not cute.”

Mrs. Thomas laughed like the two of you were performing a stand-up comedy show. “God, you two are adorable.”

You frowned while she walked away, and even though Harry’s smile stayed plastered on his face, you could see the furrow between his brows. “Adorable?” he asked, voice low. “You?”

“Piss off,” you said for the second time that day.

The 103 debacle, as your elder colleague so eloquently put, hadn’t gone smoothly. At all. Administration admitted to making a mistake and offered, oh so kindly, to relocate one of you to an empty classroom upstairs. Both Harry and you just stood there, looking at each other as if saying “Well, there you go” and waiting for the other to eagerly take room 214. Dark, humid, cold and small 214. After a couple of minutes of painfully awkward silence, the secretary responsible for room assignment suggested a sort of alternation: since the conflicting lessons were taught twice a week, Harry could get 103 on Mondays and you could have it on Thursdays. Neither of you liked the idea, but no amount of “But Sophie…” would change her mind once she came up with a supposedly perfect solution. 

“She’s only saying that because she hasn’t seen your eye twitching while you try to refrain from having a mental breakdown over a classroom,” he said, ignoring the fact you had just told him off. Harry leaned in, annoying smirk on his lips, so only you would hear him when he said: “You can be adorable when you’re whining for more, though.”

He was too close, and you could smell the cologne on the collar of the shirt he wore under his sweater. It was vanilla, sweet and strong like he had been before he turned out to be the kind of guy who insulted you and bragged about having fucked you, all in the same breath. 

“Classy, Styles,” you drank the rest of your water in one gulp so you could get rid of the cup and put some distance between the two of you. He just smelled too good. “You shouldn’t be so quick to make fun of my eye twitch, though. I wasn’t the one using “the humidity in 214 is bad for my hair” as an argument.” 

“I hate that room,” Harry muttered as you walked away. 

Well, that made two of you. 

—

“So here’s what we’re going to do,” you announced to your students. Sunshine flooded the room, casting light on their focused expressions. “You’re going to go through act one again and select a snippet of text so that we can discuss it, and you have to make it so your point —” A determined knock on the door interrupted you. Before you could say anything at all, about a dozen people entered room 103 as if it were expected from them to do so. Strangely, it took you a second too long to realize where you knew most of those faces from: three days ago, they were among your own students as they waited for their professor. One by one, they sat in rows on the floor just like they would in actual desks. None of them made a sound. “Make it so your point about the chosen quote is character-driven,” you continued, choosing to simply not acknowledge any disturbance for a moment. 

Still, there were twelve too many sets of eyes looking up at you. It was unsettling. For the next few minutes, there was a silent agreement between you and the Drama students; the lesson proceeded as they exchanged puzzled looks while pretending to skim the first act of Romeo and Juliet and you anxiously played with your cross necklace. What kind of sick mind game was Harry trying to play here? You wish you knew what reaction he was expecting, only so you could deliver the exact opposite of it. 

“You have ten more minutes,” you said, reminding your students. A few of them nodded as they took notes, but the people sitting on the floor remained quiet and still, eyes on you. “What do you want?” you blurted out. 

“What do you mean?” a girl asked, and you could tell they were expecting you to continue pretending they weren’t there until the lesson was over. Bingo. 

“I mean, what is your goal? Did your professor send you here just to spite me? Is he wasting your time as well as mine? Or are you supposed to learn something by attending my class without my previous consent?”

By then, your own students had dropped their books and were waiting for one of the Music kids to speak up. 

“Today’s lesson is about civil disobedience and other forms of rebellion and how they relate to the cultural and/or artistic aspects of music,” the same girl said. You couldn’t help but admire the way she took the lead, just as you couldn’t help but question Harry’s methodology. 

“What’s your name?”

“Kate.”

“Kate, don’t you think this exercise fails to convey the gravity of civil disobedience? The environment seems a little low-stakes, to be honest.”

“Having low stakes is what makes it an experiment, though,” someone else muttered from behind Kate. 

“You can speak up”, you said. “And yes, it’s an experiment, but it still feels too far-fetched, not even close to a parallel. Once you’re done with the lesson, you should let me know how Professor Styles managed to turn this into a Thoreau analogy. Maybe he should have just taught you how to play Another Brick In The Wall and called it a day.” 

Some of the Drama students snickered from their desks, but Harry’s class didn’t seem to find you amusing at all. Oh, well. You couldn’t please everyone. 

“Since you’re already here, you’re going to learn something. It’s unrelated to civil disobedience but that’s not really my fault, is it? Find a partner that’s actually enrolled in the class about narrative elements in Drama; work on the passage together, from a character-focused perspective, and see if you can relate any of it to your knowledge about art and culture in general. I’m certain someone has taught you about that, even if Professor Styles couldn’t.”

There was a beat of silence, all twenty-four of them staring at you hesitantly. 

“Well? Get to work.”

And so they did. 

—

You zipped up your bag, mind already drifting to the bottle of wine and comfortable blankets waiting for you back home, when someone’s knuckles tapped the door to the classroom. It was neither 103, with its smooth stone walls onto which you could project any material necessary with perfect lighting, or 214, with its moldy smell, but a perfectly decent middle-ground. You had just taught your last lesson of the first week of the semester to a group of eager Literature first-years and even though you were much better at it now than when you first began, it wasn’t an easy job by any means. Shoulders aching with tension, you turned to the door. 

“No,” you said before Madeline could utter a single word. She was your sweetest colleague, and also technically your boss. Madeline was the head of the Literature department and the person who recommended you to the head of Drama when they needed someone to teach a couple of classes on the narrative aspects of plays the students would later perform. Even when you hesitated to take the job and said you weren’t experienced enough to do it, she wouldn’t take no for an answer; Madeline was the closest thing you had to a mother in Markham, always toeing the line between authority and encouragement. 

But she would have to take no for an answer now, because you knew that face. And contrary to her motherly status, she wanted you to go out for happy hour. “Just one drink,” she didn’t even bother denying it. “Everyone’s coming.”

“Everyone who?”

“Everyone!”

Everyone almost certainly didn’t involve faculty over 65, so that left you with less than ten people total. You decided not to bring it up since Madeline could get sensitive about age talk. She was 58 and absolutely outraged by people over 60 that started “acting like they had already dropped dead”. Her words. 

“Professor Styles will be there,” and then she wiggled her eyebrows. Oh my God.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you said, offended, grabbing your purse. You turned off the lights and closed the door, all while she played dumb.

“Nothing, really,” Madeline said with a shrug. “Thought it might be nice to hang out with a fellow young intellectual, ‘s all.”

“Oh, spare me.” 

“You could also figure your shit out before HR needs to get involved,” she paused to see your reaction. There was none. “Just a thought.”

“HR? Are you for real?”

“No,” she said, honestly. “But the two of you can’t keep this up forever, honey. It’s entertaining to watch, but it looks exhausting. You should put an end to whatever this is, if only so you can have a little more peace of mind. You’re both smart people trying to get their job done, that’s all.”

You didn’t say a word. You didn’t want to fight Madeline on this. Harry was… complicated. You hadn’t seen him at all since yesterday’s class and even though you were proud of how you handled the situation at first, you couldn’t help but second guess every move you made while his students were in your classroom. Maybe you should have just made them leave. Maybe you shouldn’t have questioned Harry’s authority so explicitly by saying it was a bad exercise.Maybe you should have just pretended they weren’t there at all. Maybe you should have walked up to Harry himself and thrown a fit because he disturbed your lesson. 

But there was no use dwelling on what should have been. In the end, the lesson was actually productive. Fun, if you might say so yourself. His students proved themselves to be very reasonable people, and the contrast between their perspectives as musicians and those of your students, as actors or future playwrights, contributed to multiple interesting discussions.

“Just one drink,” you found yourself saying to Madeline, not that it mattered. You were already walking together towards the parking lot, where her car was, instead of your usual route. 

“That’s my girl.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked by her side, your black heels making it hard for you to walk on the gravel of the parking lot. The uncomfortable shoes, unfortunately, played a big part in your whole “fake it ‘till you make it” brand of confidence. 

—

The whole table shifted as you and Madeline walked into the pub. You could see Harry from the corner of your eye, fuzzy cream sweater and lilac pants, the shadow of laughter still on his lips from whatever joke was being told before you walked in. 

Two more chairs were placed at random spots, and before you could say anything you were squeezed in between Harry and another professor from the Music department, with Madeline four seats away. This had been a terrible idea. Your thighs were pressed together, the rough fabric of his pants rubbing against your skin; there was no move you could make without somehow touching him. 

“Hey,” Harry said quietly, turning to you. You could feel his warm breath on your cheek. “Did you have a nice class yesterday?”

Despite all the imaginary fights you had with him on the last 30 hours, you smiled. Harry Styles had some nerve. “Which one? I teach a few classes everyday, Professor.”

He laughed under his breath even though you both knew you weren’t a particularly funny person. “You know what? You are adorable.”

You could feel your cheeks flaming instantly. He rendered you speechless for a couple seconds, each one making his smirk grow. You licked your lips and then, with less confidence than you’d like, you said: “I know. Still not as adorable as your little backfiring prank, though.”

“First of all,” he started, still with that damn smirk. “It wasn’t a prank, it was an exercise.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“It was! And it absolutely did not backfire. Shouldn’t you know what backfiring means? Aren’t you a book expert or whatever?” 

“Very cute, Styles.”

He murmured a ‘thank you’, choosing to ignore your dripping sarcasm. It drove you crazy. 

Someone cleared their throat, and you realized as soon as you looked up that the whole table was waiting for your order and most definitely paying attention to yours and Harry’s conversation. Your face burned even hotter while you stuttered out the name of your cocktail. 

Your first cocktail, that is. As a storm started outside, one drink turned into two, then three. 

“I should get going,” Madeline said at some point, half the table already gone. Even with all the extra space, you and Harry had shown no intention of moving. “Do you need a ride, honey?”

You thought of your empty kitchenette, a few miles south of Markham, and all the time it would take her to drive you home and back to her house, and her family, under such a downpour. A quick “No, thank you” and she was gone. You turned to the nearest window, your arm brushing Harry’s in the process, to watch the storm outside and figure out if the weather would make it impossible for you to leave, which meant you had made a terrible decision by declining the ride. Sure enough, it was pitch black and the rain was as violent as ever. Oh, well. 

“You have goosebumps.”

“Huh?”

“You have goosebumps,” Harry repeated himself, laughing a little. As opposed to you, he hadn’t had a single drink to slow his thinking. “Are you cold?”

“Yeah,” but you weren’t. Through your protests, he took the beige coat hanging on his chair and draped it across your shoulders. Once you shivered at the touch of his fingertips, there was no lying anymore.

 Harry raised an eyebrow, and you didn’t know what was more infuriating: his smirk, the amazing smell on his absurdly fashionable coat or your uncalled-for horniness, so you decided to ignore all of them. “There’s really no need, Styles,” you said quietly, already reaching to give him back his coat. “I need to get home.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m not driving.”

“Well,” he scoffed. “Obviously.”

You furrowed your brows, suddenly very glad you couldn’t see the drunk pout that had just formed in your lips. “Bye, then.”

He grabbed your hand before you could take off his jacket. “No. Let me take you.”

“No fucking way,” you protested. Realizing the three or four remaining coworkers at the table were paying attention to your conversation, you continued much more calmly: “Thank you, though.”

“Come on, Professor,” he teased. “I owe you this one, I guess.”

The gin made him sound so reasonable. He did owe you one, for being such a jerk at all times through the don’t-give-a-shit attitude and how he often brought up that stupid fucking night. Not to mention the 103 debacle and the disruptive prank. He owed you many, actually. 

“I guess?” It sounded more aggressive in your head, but that would do.

So you both said your goodbyes and left, his expensive coat hanging off your back while you walked to his expensive car, as if whatever was his were meant to be shared with you simply because you looked good in it. 

part 2 !

[none-but-y0u]

yes i’m posting this twice. idk how to use this site correctly, and i have no shame so we move

Saw this post by @memes-saved-me​ HAD to write a fic about it because it wouldn’t leave my mind

___________________________________________________________________

Months after the fight, Billy hadn’t really made up with Steve per se. He hadn’t said those two words because in his opinion, they held no weight if there wasn’t any action behind it. But still, Hawkins was only so big, and the Party was only so small, so eventually they had to get to a point where Steve didn’t flinch at every purr of the camaro and where Billy didn’t feel like something was clawing away at the insides of him every time Steve avoided him.

So nowadays, if they ever saw each other out and about, it was more of a head nod that symbolized “I’ll leave the kids alone, if you promise you’re keeping Max safe” type of thing. And occasionally this extended to a “I’m at the quarry. You’re at the quarry. We’re not going to talk about the deep bags under your eyes or the darkening bruises on mine, but we can share this blunt and pretend we’re angsty teens, even if it’s just for a moment.”

In school, it worked similarly. Tommy was still on his weird homoerotic pulling pigtails thing where he would say comments about dethroning King Steve, but would also always seem to have his eyes on him everywhere he went.

And Billy knew all about homoerotic pulling pigtails. Had his fair share of pulling pigtails with a certain recently dethroned, brown eyed, king, and that got him nowhere except blood on his fists and a syringe in his neck. But he’d let Tommy figure that one out on his own.

Read more under the cut or on ao3 HERE

“Yo, Hargrove,” Tommy shouted across the parking lot, waving him over.

Looking up, Billy took count of who was around - a bunch of preppies he definitely didn’t have time for today - and shook his head before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. He could quietly hear Tommy mutter a “this fucker” before walking over to Billy.

“Dude, you didn’t hear me calling you?”

“What is it, Hagan?” he muttered, not even sparing him a look.

Tommy leaned back against the camaro, attempting to look cool and nonchalant, but quickly moved upon seeing Billy’s glare. He opted for crossing his arms and plastering a glare on his face. “You seen Harrington?” he asked, squinting towards the emptying school building.

“Why the fuck would I have seen him?” Billy huffed, blowing out a stream of smoke.

“I dunno. I see you guys sometimes in the halls or in the cafeteria, so I just thought that you and he were-”

“We were what?” Billy glares, cutting him off. Tommy has the good sense to take a step back.

“Nothing, man. I just thought you were friends or something.”

Billy scoffs, rolling his eyes. “So ‘cause I don’t pull Harrington’s pigtails like you do, that means we’re friends?”

“Pigtails- I don’t! I’m with Carol!” Tommy stutters out, his freckles standing out more as his face goes red.

Billy gives him a pointed look before taking another drag.

“You used to do it too. Before you got all soft for him,” Tommy mumbles after a moment.

And Billy doesn’t have time to deal with Tommy and his unrequited, unrealized feelings for his ex best friend. Took him long enough to figure it out himself, and he doesn’t feel like going down that road again. “Fuck you want, Hagan.” He says, a slight growl in his throat.

“Nothing, man. I just didn’t know if you saw him. That’s all. He wasn’t in class today, and you know how everyone is with him now that he’s...you know,” Tommy trails off.

“Ain’t that your doing?”

Tommy flushes again, rubbing the back of his head. “Mm, Yeah, I guess.” He goes silent a moment before. “Hey, me and Carol are going to the Mart after this if you wanna’ come.”

“Hard pass,” Billy chortles, throwing his cigarette to the ground. Moving past Tommy, he walks to the driver’s side.

“Yeah, course,” Tommy says. His face is downturned, and Billy can see the slight bit of hurt staining Tommy’s face. Closing his eyes, he sighs to himself. Knows he has to correct this because Tommy’s doesn’t mean any actual harm. Just wants to know if his ex-best friend is okay.

“Have to drive my sister around, that’s all,” he gets out. Tommy’s face lights up at that just as the familiar dash of red works its way through the crowd.

“Yeah, alright. Catch you tomorrow then.”

He starts to walk away, and Billy curses at himself for being weak enough to ask. “If you hear from Harrington before Monday..."

Tommy turns, grinning with a knowing look. “I’ll let you know.”

Max finally gets to the car, skateboard in hand, dirt smudged across her forehead, and a cut on her cheek.

“You’re late, shitbird. Didn’t I tell you 4:00? Not 4:20.” Billy mutters, getting into the car.

“You can take me to the arcade,” she says, ignoring him.

“What happened to your face?”

She pulls down the visor, examining her face. “Nothing.”

“Maxine.”

“Don’t call me that, William ."

“What happened to your face?” And then, when she still hasn’t said anything minutes later, he adds, softer. “I don’t want Neil to think..." And she knows what he means. Goes real quiet, picking at a scab on her arm before.

“Nothing. Just a couple of boys. But I handled them. I’m fine, really.”

He takes his eyes off the road, looking her over for any other bruises, before nodding. “There’s some bandaids and stuff in there,” he says, nodding towards the glove department.

“Billy, I’m-”

“Fine. Yeah, I know. Just clean it at least. So it doesn’t get infected.”

She gives him a look before complying. “I said I’m fine. I can handle them,” she huffs.

A small smile sneaks onto his face as he watches his sister not sister angrily clean the mark on her face. Yeah. She can definitely handle them.

___

They’re driving home after the arcade, something heavy blasting through the radio, when the light turns red, and he comes to a stop. Looking out the window, he notices Tommy’s car at the Mart. After a moment, its owner walks out from the store. Following someone. Always following someone. And then the person turns, and Billy’s heart momentarily stops before filling with anger.

Steve’s leading Tommy and Carol, but his face is all different shades of blue and purple with an accent of red dancing over his lips. He says something to Tommy, arms flailing, as he tries to walk off. Reaching out, Tommy grabs his arm, pushing him towards the hood of his car. After a moment, Steve listens, sitting down and placing his head in his hands.

And the whole scene reminds him of before, except this time, Billy’s knuckles aren’t covered in red. There’s a rage boiling in his gut. “You know who did that to him?” he manages to get out.

Max follows his eye line before nodding. “Dustin said some guy called Sean jumped him or something.”

“Sean as in Stephens?” he asks, fingers crushing the cigarette in his hand.

She turns to him, a worried look on her face. “What are you going to do?”

Billy sneaks another look at Steve, and the anger festers within him. The light turns green, and he curls his fingers around the wheel. “I’m gonna make sure he doesn’t touch Steve ever again.”

___

Steve’s signature BMW is already at the quarry, by the time Billy pulls up the next day. He leans on the hood, staring up at the sky. Billy checks himself in the mirror before making his way over to him.

“You got bruises on your hands today,” Steve says with a nod.

“You got bruises on your face,” Billy shrugs.

Steve chuckles, “Yeah, I guess.” His eyes sweep over Billy’s body before settling on his face. His tongue darts out over his lips, and Billy has a strong desire to chase after it. Wants to feel Harrington’s blood on his own lips.

He looks away. “What, man?”

“Nothing. Not used to seeing you without them.” Another lookover. “You got freckles, you know that?”

It’s only then that Billy really understands the whole King Steve thing. Completely gets why no matter how much Tommy claims to hate him, he can’t keep his eyes off of him. There’s just something about the way Steve looks at you like he’s scavenging your body for its deepest secrets because he genuinely wants to know everything about you. Like he actually cares about you.

“Yeah, well, I’m not used to seeing you with them,” he stutters out.

“I think I look kinda badass.”

Billy scoffs because of course some sick part of him finds a roughed up Steve who’s still got that loveable charm incredibly attractive, and the thought bubbles in his gut uncomfortably.

“What? You don’t like it? Don’t think I look pretty enough?” He takes a step closer, encroaching on Billy’s space with that dangerous smirk on his lips. Billy feels all sense leave him, suddenly feeling like all those girls who probably stay up all night thinking about their one moment with King Steve. And what’s happening right now. This moment right here. This is most definitely his moment.

Steve takes another step, eyes sweeping over Billy again. He goes to curl his lower lip into his mouth when-

“Ah fuck!” There’s a trail of flesh blood staining his lips from the recently opened wound.

“This is like the tenth time today. It’s never gonna’ heal at this point,” he groans. “I hate this so much.”

Shaking his head, Billy goes to his car, grabbing the first aid kit.

“Come here,” he says curling his hand around Steve’s wrist. Steve makes a small oomph sound at the sudden movement, but complies nonetheless.

Pulling out an alcohol swab, he goes to press it to Steve’s lip, but Steve stops him. “That’s gonna sting.”

“Don’t be a baby.”

“I’m not,” he huffs. “I just- ah shit !” He glares as Billy runs the swab over the cut. “Maybe warn a guy next time.”

Billy scoffs, “There won’t be a next time.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Steve hums. “Everyone’s gonna wanna take a jab at their old king sooner or later.”

“Nah. I won’t let that happen.”

“What? You gonna follow me around all day being my knight in shining armor?” Steve quips with a raised brow.

And Billy so wants to say yes. Wants to say he’ll be his knight in shining armor and so much more if Steve’ll let him.

“Stop talking before you bust your lip open again.”

Steve smirks as Billy works his way through each cut and bruise. “You did a pretty shit job at this,” Billy says after a moment.

“And you’re doing too good of a job at this,” Steve counters. Billy’s hands still, and his mouth drops slightly. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna say anything. Just think that you’re doing all this for me, and I never did this for you,” he says with a shrug. “Just seems like you’re doing a lot for me.”

And Billy would do anything for Steve if it meant he’d get to run his hands down the angle of his jaw like this, or if he got to count the moles on his face, or if he got to run his fingers over the curve of his lips like this.

“What’re you doing, Bill,” Steve exhales, breath fanning out over his lips.

Billy hesitates for a moment before...“I’m taking care of you.”

___

Steve’s back in school on Monday. And Tommy spends ten minutes talking about how Steve probably got his ass handed to him by whomever beat his face in. But when Sean Stephens walks past them, face looking ten times worse than Steve’s, Tommy changes his tune and spends the next twenty minutes praising Steve’s fighting skills.

Billy spends the day with his hands in his pockets, and a grin on his face.

[sometimesiwritebadly]

illicit affairs (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: You catch feelings for Spencer after the two of you start casually sleeping together. He doesn’t.

Warnings: Sexual themes, no actual smut though. 

Notes: ANGST. This is based off of the song illicit affairs by Taylor Swift! The song implies that there’s cheating but I can’t see Spencer ever cheating on someone so the scandal of this relationship is that reader and Spence are co-workers and there’s a pretty big age gap. (OBVIOUSLY reader is 18+, I imagine late 20s cause they’re in the FBI. By season 15 I think Spencer is in his late 30s/early 40s) This takes place AFTER the season 15 finale so if you haven’t finished the show don’t read this! There is a pretty big spoiler for the finale! Oh also I tried to make this gender neutral but if I accidentally left in any female pronouns lmk and I’ll fix it :)

oh another thing, I’ve seen a lot of people writing based off of songs from folklore (as they should) so just a little disclaimer: if this bears any resemblance to another story based off of illicit affairs it’s a coincidence! I’ve purposely been avoiding most of the stories i see based off folklore songs cause i don’t wanna accidentally steal an idea but i also understand that there’s only so many stories you can make based off of one song so there’s bound to be some elements that are shared between different fics.

~if it’s in italics it’s a flashback~

Word Count: 1.8k

Masterlist

You’d only been the BAU’s technical analyst for a month the first time. It had been hard joining the very close team, considering you were the youngest member and you were replacing one of their closest friends, but Spencer had taken a liking to you faster than the rest of the team. You knew none of them meant to make you feel bad, but sometimes you felt like you were living in the shadow of the great Penelope Garcia. You never missed the comments about how much she was missed, how great of a hacker she was, how she always came through. Spencer was the only one who actively avoided comparing you to your predecessor. So, really, it’s no surprise that you ended up in his bed after the team came back from a rough case. Unfortunately for you, that was the beginning of your doom.

~ the first time ~

The team was getting off the jet after a rough case. Normally, as the technical analyst, you didn’t have to travel with the rest of the BAU, but this one had called for you to be on site for the first time since you joined the BAU. You were tired, and heartbroken from the deadly results of the past couple days, and all you really wanted to do was go home and cuddle up in bed with someone. Of course, you didn’t have anyone to be with, so you’d have to settle for a cup of cocoa and a comforting movie. As you headed to your car, you heard one of your co-workers, Reid, calling your name.

“Y/N?” You stopped your walking and turned to see the doctor walking towards you. “Do you mind giving me a ride? It’s late, I’d rather not try and get a taxi at this hour.” If it was anyone else, you probably would’ve said no, but you couldn’t resist Spencer’s charm. He was over 10 years your senior, and you knew it could never happen because of workplace rules, but it never hurt to dream. 

“Y-yeah, of course. You live on 23rd and…”

“42nd street. It’s not too out of your way, is it?”

“No, not at all.” It’s on the opposite side of town. You’re sure he could easily tell if you were lying, but he was either too tired to notice or willing to ignore it. When you finally glanced up to meet Spencer’s eyes, you found him already staring you down. With a light blush forming on your cheeks, you lead him to your car.

On the ride to Spencer’s, the two of you discussed how you felt about the case.

“How did you feel with everything? I know you usually don’t have to see firsthand everything that goes on during our cases.” He asked.

“It was..a lot.” You paused, letting yourself steal a glance towards Spencer before focusing your eyes on the road. “I much prefer experiencing these cases from behind a computer screen.”

“That’s understandable. Garcia was the same way. It’s always good having someone to talk to about the rough cases.” 

The conversation continued, but you weren’t really focusing on the words passing between the two of you. No, you were much more interested in Spencer’s hands. Specifically, his left hand, which was slowly inching closer and closer to your thigh. By the time you were pulling up in front of his apartment building, his hand had reached your lower thigh, just above your knee. Now that you weren’t driving, you could face him, and you found that he was carefully watching you. “Is this ok?” He asked. If you wanted an out, this was it. No lines have been crossed, no rules broken, it’d be so easy to stop this now and go back to normal at work Monday morning. 

“Yes.” Once the words left your mouth, Spencer leaned towards you, closing the gap between you. The kiss started gentle, but was far from innocent. You let him have complete control as he explored your mouth. You could feel his intentions through the kiss, and you knew you’d be in for a night. When he pulled away, you could see that his pupils were bigger, and you were sure your face was completely red. 

“Come in?” It was a question, but it felt more like a command. Your only response was to remove the key from your car’s ignition before you both quickly headed up to Spencer’s apartment.

~~

Your many nights with Spencer started out comforting. Whenever there was a rough case, or just a bad day, you could count on him to make you feel better. You were far from a relationship; No one knew that the two of you occasionally slept together, and you never talked about it outside of your meetings. You supposed you could label it as friends with benefits, but that felt like it downplayed what you were to each other. Or, what Spencer was to you. You’re not stupid, you know that he doesn’t feel for you the way you do for him. You’re well aware that you’re not exclusive, and that he has no obligations to you. But when you’re together, which is becoming more and more frequent, you’re really together. Sometimes it’s easy to forget when you’re with him that he’s not your boyfriend. He gives you gifts, calls you baby, sometimes he even brings you to fancy hotels. But the second you two separate, your relationship makes a 180. In the bedroom, you’re “baby.” At work, you’re “kid.” In the bedroom, you wear the perfume he bought you and he praises you for it. When you dared to wear it at work, he’d completely ignore you. 

Every minute you spend with him, you fall a little bit more. But every second you’re apart, your heart breaks over and over again.

~ the hundredth time ~

You were in your car, outside of Spencer’s building. As the two of you kissed, Spencer pulled you on top of his lap. You pulled away for a moment, but he captured your lips once more before you could get your words out. This time, your hand pushed him away so you could speak. “Shouldn’t we go inside?”

“Why not just stay here?” His lips found your neck for a moment before he kept speaking, “It’s faster. We cut out the middleman, you can get home sooner.” You were glad Spencer’s lips were focused on your neck, because it meant he couldn’t see the insulted look on your face. You knew the two of you hadn’t been quite as romantic lately, if ever, but you felt like you were slapped in the face when Spencer implied that even spending the time to walk you to his apartment, having a nice conversation over a drink was just the “middleman.” Before you could respond, however, he pulled away from your neck and looked at you. “Besides, haven’t you always wanted to do it in a car?” And just like that, his charm had caught you again. You smiled, and kissing him again, harder this time. You put all your energy into focusing on him, making each other feel good, and no on how your once romantic nights were slowly turning into quickies whenever Spencer felt like getting off.

~~

At work, you and Spencer were good at keeping it professional. Both of your jobs could be in trouble if people found out. When you really thought about it, you knew that Prentiss would probably be ok with you two dating if you went through the proper procedures with HR, but Spencer had said it’d be better to keep it secret. You didn’t want whatever you two were to end, so you went along with it. 

Today was a rare calm day at the BAU, with no new cases for the team to work on. You’d been catching up on paperwork in your office, but when you were in need of coffee, you decided to stop by the other team member’s desks on the way to the coffee machine. Now that you’ve been with the team for over a year, You’d gotten pretty close with the members. You and Luke have inside jokes, you babysit Matt and JJ’s kids, you, Tara, and Rossi bond over your shared love of old cars. When you walked into the office space, you weren’t surprised to find Spencer, Luke, and Matt talking around their desks instead of doing paperwork. When you walked past the trio, you overheard their conversation.

“So, Reid, you coming tonight? Rossi said he’d bring out the good scotch.” Luke asked. You knew they’d been planning a poker night. Not really your thing, but you figured you’d join just to be with the team. Spencer’s answer to the question is what really got your attention.

“I can’t. I’ve got a date.” You almost tripped over your feet on the way to the coffee machine when you heard him. A date? 

“Oh? Is this the same girl from last week?” Matt asked. As you poured your coffee, you tried your best to listen in without being obvious. You and Spencer had been together last Wednesday...were they talking about you? Had Spencer mentioned that he was seeing you? Did he consider your hookups as dates?

“Yup. I’m not sure where it’s going yet, but I’m excited.” Your mind was racing at this point. Either your dreams were finally coming true, or you were about to get your heartbroken for the millionth time. You were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even notice that Spencer had made his way towards you to get himself another cup of coffee. “Y/N? You alright, you look a little worried.” He asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. You knew you should wait till you’re in a more private location, but your words come out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“A date tonight? I didn’t think we had plans.” You took a sip of your coffee, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. If he was talking about you, you didn’t want to seem over excited. But if he wasn’t, well…

The face he made gave away the answer before he spoke. “Oh, uh, no. We don’t.” Ouch. “I met someone at the bookstore near my place a couple weeks ago.” He paused, not making eye contact with you as he poured his coffee. “That’s uh,” His voice was lower this time, “That’s not a problem is it?”

“No! Not at all.” You answered a little too quickly. “It’s not like we’re dating, right?” You didn’t wait for his answer before you walked away. When you made it back to the safety of your office, you couldn’t help the single tear that dropped from your eye before you got back to work. 

Instead of going to Rossi’s with the rest of the team, you spent the night alone with a cup of cocoa and a comforting movie, like you wish you had a year ago.

~~

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