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#someone help me come up with a cleaner study plan?
writing-whump · 3 months
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Can't stop throwing up
Sick feverish Isaiah with Arnie during a sleepover. Warning for emeto.
Arnie was so excited about tonight.
Could you celebrate the third week in a row that your oldest brother stayed over from Friday to Saturday for a sleepover?
Yeah, he should be getting a social life. But this was Isaiah they were talking about. Every new tradition, habit or event with him was a success in Arnie's book.
Things were going great. Hector and Isaiah weren't fighting, Isaiah was making new memories with all of them, they were getting along great.
Okay, so maybe Isaiah and Hector were both a bit overcareful, trying not to fight so much their conversations were rather shallow...and Isaiah wasn't exactly sharing much about his pack or life or studies or work...and they haven't exactly talked about anything that mattered for the last two times- but hey, they could use a breather, right?
There was the stuff with the reveal, the car accident, Hector's injuries, so basically Isaiah always came through for them in a crisis. They didn't need to create more tension by talking about heavy things when they could relax and discuss movies, right?
Arnie definitely didn't want to kill the mood. And any time they spend together they got to know each other better, right?
Right?
Arnie ordered takeout so they wouldn't have to worry about food. Isaiah loved cooking, but boy did it take time. Everything had to be perfect and cut to tiniest pieces and patiently waited for.
Arnie and Hector cooked 20 minutes long recipes tops. Throw it into the pan, add whatever is currently in the fridge and tada.
So Arnie figured out the shortcut, let the robot vacuum cleaner run the place clean and waited entirely patiently and without looking at the clock for 6 pm to come.
Isaiah came exactly on time, as usual. "Hey, kid."
Arnie didn't run to the door like a kid, mind you. He came slowly and with dignity, like an adult. "Isaiah!" He tried not to shout or smile too loud. His enthusiasm might become overwhelming at this pace.
The wolf hang his coat, trying to act more at home each time he came.
Arnie sneaked in a quick hug before revealing the dinner he prepared.
Isaiah looked...relieved at the sight. It made Arnie to take a second look, noticing how pale his oldest brother was.
"Hector has a pack meeting. He will be joining later," Arnie said, moving to get a plate for Isaiah for the Italian food and salad he ordered before the older could. He must have been tired to not manage to do it first.
"Right. Guess, it's you and me for tonight's movies, then."
"Go sit in the living room. I'll get it," Arnie said. "Hector might show up around 10 or something. He doesn't like taking calls during the meet. A definition of unavailable."
Another weird thing. Isaiah went to sit down as asked, not insisting to help.
Arnie brought both their plates, spaghetti and salad and meat, joining Isaiah on the couch. "Long week?"
Isaiah blinked in confusion. "Hmm? No. Not really. Maybe." He took a hesitant bite from the food as if to stop himself from other noninformative answers.
"Exams all finished?"
"Yeah, it was okay."
"Planning something for the summer?"
"Oh, just some work maybe. I got this practicum about urban structures creating cohesion in cities. Some wolf meets. We will probably go to a sea somewhere, don't know how Seline's family schedules look yet."
So leaving his week free for meddling and potential conflicts between packs, the weekly meets and something for school.
It was also hard to wrap his head around Seline's family schedules. Someone with parents to consider that they liked and that Isaiah wanted to get along with as well.
Made harder by the fact Arnie yet had to meet the girl and assess how truly fitting or even good she was for his brother.
Girls always separate brothers, don't they? They were separated for too long to girls doing the demages now.
Isaiah quietly ate his food, not asking back. Eyes towards the bowl like it was interesting. Or like he was tired.
Arnie tried to wiggle the conversation towards what happened last two weeks. No results. Isaiah was still as dodgy as always, tired or not.
They finished their food, sun slowly setting behind the windows.
Arnie had three movies prepared and was ready for a discussion, since the two of team knew most famous movies or classics and rewatched them just for the commentary. But Isaiah was happy to settle on the first option of the cult movie Fatal Attraction.
Arnie got lost in the plot and the atmosphere, curious what the more horrific parts of the movie would be like with Isaiah there...
Isaiah wasn't following much. His eyes were glassy and drooping. He leaned his head back and to the side, which was a change from his usual uptight and upright sitting.
Arnie wasn't sure what to make of it, when Isaiah's eyes fell shut, head lolling to the side.
Ah. So that's what it meant. He carefully saved that information up for later in his mental file.
Isaiah was breathing slow and loud against thr backdrop of the movie, the lights making his skin look even paler.
Arnie lowered the volume and snuggled closer to lean his head against Isaiah's shoulder. Still wasn't such a bad night. He could count it as a win that Isaiah relaxed enough to fall asleep.
***
The more scream-intense parts towards the end of the movie turned out to be a challange. It started to rain and Arnie couldn't hear anything with how quiet it was.
Each louder sound made Isaiah wince in his sleep and grumble something. Arnie soon gave up, shutting the TV off.
He went to fetch himself some tea with milk, feeling cozy listening to the rain. Isaiah was soundly alseep, breathing a bit erratically under the blanket Arnie threw over his curled up form.
It was almost 10 pm and no traces of Hector. Delaney, Hector's second was the one to text Arnie the meet was probably going to drag tonight.
Ah well.
A few muffled coughs interrupted his thoughts. Arnie poured the boiling water over the tea, leaving it to brew to go peek into the living room.
"Hey, you waking up, sleepyhead- holy shit!"
The coughs weren't just coughs. Isaiah was propped up on his elbow, coughing up pale brown pieces of their dinner over the sofa and the floor.
Arnie exclaimed, running to his side. He had to sidestep the puddle forming under Isaiah's head.
Isaiah moaned. Like actually, pitifully moaned, back arching as more vomit came up. His eyes were barely open, like he was still half asleep.
"Jesus, man. Hey, Isaiah? You with me?" Arnie nervously put a hand on his arm, a little out of his depth in face of such sickness from his neat, controlled and never to be seen sick brother.
Isaiah spit at the ground, before slowly sitting up, rubbing at his face. "Arnie? What...what happened?"
"Do you still feel sick?"
"Sick- what-?" Isaiah frowned, letting go of his face to look around and gasped in horror. "Christ, did I just- I'm so sorry, Arnie, I didn't-" he cut himself off with a burp at the sight of the mess.
He pressed a hand against his mouth but Arnie could hear the liquid rushing up his throat and splatter through his fingers with a force. A gush of vomit dripped down his chin on his white bottom up.
"Okay, man, think we should get you into the bathroom," Arnie said, surprised he managed something coherent with how shocked he was. It happened so fast, his mind was still catching up.
Arnie took Isaiah under the elbow, helping him manevour around the puke covering where he was lying on the sofa.
Isaiah wobbled on the way, stopping for a second to catch his breath. "God, aww." He pressed a hand to his stomach from the clean side. Another burp made him speed up though.
The sick wolf fell to his knees in front of the toilet and immediately heaved, whole body shaking with the wave of vomit that rushed out.
Arnie winced, kneeling down next to him to put a hand on his back. What the hell just happened? Did Isaiah not notice?
Isaiah folded over with the next retch, a guttural horrible sound that echoed through the whole bathroom. A far cry from the earlier inconspicuous coughs.
"Did it just hit you out of nowhere? Was it the food?" Arnie asked in his daze. "We had the same thing and I feel fine..."
"Urgh," Isaiah belched, face almost completely inside the toilet. The distinct sound of liquid hitting water followed right after.
Arnie rubbed his upper back, horrified how much it moved under his fingers as Isaiah's stomach contracted, back heaving and moving in waves with the sickness pouring out of him.
Isaiah's dirty shirt was complete transparent with the sweat. Arnie cupped his neck, hissing at the searing heat coming off him. "Shit, you are burning up."
Isaiah gasped for breath, finally lifting his head and pushing the flush bottom. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize I was sick, I wouldn't have come." There was saliva and puke all over his chin.
Arnie grabbed the roll of toilet paper and handed it to him. "You didn't realise you were feeling off?"
"I was- thanks-" Isaiah cleaned himself up with shaky fingers. His complexion wasn't just pale but sickly green at this point. Arnie could count all the veins in his cheeks and around his eyes.
"I felt a bit off, but thought it was just stress." He slumped against the wall, taking quick sharp breaths.
"Was your week so bad?" Arnie took the crumbled paper from Isaiah's hands that went limp by his sides, throwing them out into the toilet. He was getting fed up by this mysterious work problem.
"No, not that..." Isaiah closed his eyes, a red flush forming over the top of his visible cheek. "'s usually when I come here, that my stomach hurts, that's normal," he mumbled.
Arnie gasped, looking away. His chest hitched painfully at the words, like someone poked him under the ribs enough to leave a bruise.
He didn't have time to work over the new fever confessed secret. Isaiah's throat bobbed dangerously, a low gurgling sound coming from his stomach. He wrapped his hand around the organ, groaning quietly. "I should go home. I don't feel so good."
Isaiah tried to stand. Arnie quickly grabbed his hand. "Where do you want to go in your state? You are delirious with fever and about to throw up again. You can't drive."
Isaiah swayed, the yank of Arnie's grip bringing him down to the floor again. He squeezed his eyes shut, bowing forward. "I shouldn't be here when I'm sick-"
"It's okay. I don't care about that. You can totally stay here, come on."
Isaiah opened his mouth to answer and a sick burp came up, ending with a gag.
Arnie took him by the arm with both hands to steer him over the toilet just in time for Isaiah to heave up a mouthful of puke.
His back jolted with a hiccup and he moaned. Arnie could see his stomach muscles falling inside as he heaved, a much thicker and stronger wave sputtering out.
"God," Isaiah groaned, another surge of vomit coming up. He barely had time to breathe.
"Okay, okay. Just breathe and let it out. It will over soon." Would it? He had never seen anyone throwing up so much.
Isaiah's head started to sink towards the rim so Arnie quickly put his palm in the way, helping him to lean back as he flushed the toilet, reminded of the terrible heat by the touch.
"We need to cool you down, your fever is too high." He got up to put one of the big towels into the sink and wet it with cold water.
He offered it to Isaiah who buried his face in the towel, while Arnie worked on the bottoms of his soiled shirt, finally wiggling Isaiah out of it. "There we go."
Isaiah let out a quite whine as Arnie pulled the shirt from one arm and then the other. He was swaying even sitting and propped up against the wall like that, panting for breath. "I'm so sorry." His eyes were glittering and the fever flush stood out against his skin like a sunburn.
"You don't need to apologize. You are sick, it's not your fault." Arnie balled the shirt up and threw it on the floor before taking the towel for himself. Isaiah couldn't even hold it to his face, hands limp and useless.
Arnie tapped the wet towel against his cheeks and chin, then forehead, before draping it around his back and neck. Let the cold seep through a little.
Isaiah shivered, hugging his arms around himself before suddenly pitching forward with a heave.
Barely making it over the toilet, he projectile vomited another thick wave. It came in quick violent bursts that jolted his whole frame.
"You are okay. You are going to be alright, just get it up," Arnie repeated, a ting of panic creeping into his voice. He bit down at his fingernails on his left forefinger, trying to shake the claustrophobic pressure on his chest away. There was also some at the back of his head, the kind of stressful strain that came before migraines.
"H-hey," Isaiah sput into the water, folding his arms over the rim to hold himself up. "You doing okay?" He sounded so tired, voice all scratchy from the bouts of puking.
"I'm fine," Arnie protested, shifitng closer so he could hide his face against Isaiah's sweaty back without any weight. "You are j-just so sick- I-I-" He cut himself off, corners of his mouth pushing downwards without his permission.
"It's going to be okay," Isaiah mumbled. He lied his head on his hands over the toilet, looking at Arnie from the side. "Gonna pass in- buuurp - a bit. Don't worry."
Arnie bit his lip, guilty that Isaiah was the one comforting him.
Isaiah gave him a weak smile, before wincing as another gag had him turning his head between his hands to vomit yet another gush of puke into the toilet. Like a source of endless liquid.
Arnie hated his eyes were burning and that Hector wasn't here and that he didn't notice sooner and that Isaiah didn't notice cause he always felt sick when coming to visit them- he bit back a sob forming in his throat.
"I'm gonna be right back," he promised, bolting out of the bathroom.
Some of the hot tears escaped down his cheeks, but he didn't pay them any mind. He grabbed his phone, dialing up Hector's number.
His second brother took it on the third ring. "Arnie, this better be an emergency or I swear-"
"Isaiah is sick," Arnie interjected in a tiny voice. "Like can't stop vomiting kind of sick. Please, come home?"
There was a stunned silence.
"I'm on my way."
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passivenovember · 2 years
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“Do we have a mop?”
Mrs. Harrington looks up from her crossword puzzle, razor sharp #2 poised to hack and slash her way toward victory, “Our house is covered wall to wall in tasteful black hardwood,” She says, because her husband’s time last week was 3.35 and she plans to shave at least ten seconds from her own today. “Of course we have a mop.”
Steve shuffles in the doorway, rapping four knuckles against the wood to get her attention. “Could you tell me where it is?”
“Steven,” She sighs, “I’m a little--”
“I want to clean up.”
She resists the urge to dig her fingertips in her ears. Bites down on shock and thrill that her son has finally taken to the perfectionism that runs the roots on both sides of his family tree. “Go dig around the mud room,” She says, returning to her crossword, “That’s where one usually keeps mops, vacuums, dustpans--”
“Thank you,” Steve disappears, leaving Mrs. Harrington’s study in blissful, waving quiet.
She makes it another ten words before all hell breaks loose.
“Mom!” Steve shouts, voice muffled by walls and imported rugs. “Mom, I can’t find the--”
“Goddammit,” She hits the stop-trigger on her alarm clock. 4.15. Her husband’s going to have a field day with this development. 
The kitchen is filthy, but only in the way that shows her son is trying his best. Her precious marble counters are streaked with forgotten all-purpose cleaner, and the rugs have been removed, shaken out, and put on their stay mats crooked. 
Every dish in the house has been left in the sink and somewhere, past the sound of Steve digging through the pantry and mumbling to himself, something is burning. 
“What on Earth--”
“Mrs. Wheeler used to make Nancy clean the floors with pinesol,” Steve breathes, his face as red as a lobster when he pokes his head around the doorway, “But we don’t have any pinesol, mom, I’m not sure what--”
“I don’t like pinesol. Smells too much like a burning nuclear factory.”
“What am I supposed to clean the floor with, mom?”
Mrs. Harrington tugs a mitt onto one hand and removes a sheet of charred sugar from the oven.
Thinks maybe they’re chocolate chip cookies, or brownies, or--
She turns the oven off, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s gotten into you, Steven?”
Steve charges out of the pantry and stops dead in his tracks. “Nothing,” He says, gripping the mop handle so tightly that Mrs. Harrington is positive it’s going to snap in half. “It’s just. I have someone coming over tonight, and--”
“Do you fancy this person?”
“No. Yes, I don’t. I don’t know--”
“You know, When I met your father he didn’t know you couldn’t clean glass with dish soap.”
Steve’s eyes get big. “You can’t?”
“No, it leaves streaks all over the place,” She rolls up her sleeves, turning the faucet water on as hot as it will go. “Anyhow, the first time I came over to study for our pre-law exams that first year of graduate school, he had tried to clean his entire apartment. It was a massive failure because he didn’t have anything in the way of a conventional cleaning product.”
“What did dad use?”
Mrs. Harrington laughs, unable to help herself. “Olive oil.”
Steve saddles up next to the dish rack, using a clean tea-towel to dry whatever’s handed to him. “Dad’s an idiot.”
“Yeah, but he loved me. Maybe he didn’t know it at the time, but I felt it. The second I walked in and fell into the wall because the floor was so slippery,” She pins Steve with what she hopes is a gentle, knowing look, “It meant the world that he’d even try.”
Steve looks thoughtful for a moment. “Okay,” He says, drying his hands on the seat of his Levi’s. “But what do I use to mop the floor--”
--
Two hours later, the house is clean enough that Mrs. Harrington doesn’t feel guilty returning to her crossword puzzle. 
She sits down and restarts her timer just as the doorbell rings. She listens, straining to imagine the big, goofy soft smile that matches the tone of her son’s voice. 
“Billy,” Steve says, and he might as well float around on heart-shaped clouds. “I made some cookies--”
“Smells like you almost burned the house down,” The second voice answers. 
Mrs. Harrington holds her breath and hopes against all hope that this kid won’t break her son’s heart.
There’s a long pause and then, quiet as a sunrise, Billy laughs. “I’ll choke ‘em down for you, pretty boy.”
For you.
Mrs. Harrington starts the timer and doesn’t even care that her husband beat her record. 
5.18. He’ll smile when he sees it.
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theprayerfulword · 9 days
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September 17
Romans 8:1-2 There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit. 2 For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death.
Isaiah 40:29 He gives strength to the weary, and to him who lacks might He increases power.
Psalm 37:7 Be still before the Lord, and wait patiently for Him.
Matthew 6:33 But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.
Philippians 2:13 For God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases Him.
1 Corinthians 9:25 All athletes are disciplined in their training. They do it to win a prize that will fade away, but we do it for an eternal prize.
May you ever exalt the Lord and praise His Name for, in perfect faithfulness, He has done marvelous things planned long ago, since He has torn down the strongholds of the enemy and is a refuge for the poor and the needy in distress, a shelter from the storm of the ruthless and a shade from the heat of their anger. Isaiah 25
May you trust in Him for He will save you; may you rejoice and be glad in His salvation for He has forever swallowed up and destroyed the shroud of death that enfolds all peoples and the sheet of the grave that covers all nations, wiping away the tears from all faces and removing the disgrace of His people from all the earth, just as the Lord has spoken it. Isaiah 25
May you trust in the Lord forever for the Lord is the Rock eternal Who keeps you in perfect peace when your mind is steadfast because you trust in Him, but humbles those who dwell on high, causing them to be trampled by the feet of the oppressed and the footsteps of the poor. Isaiah 26
May you walk in the way of the Lord, for the path of the righteous is leveled by the Upright One Who makes the way smooth. Isaiah 26
May you wait for Him, allowing His name and renown to become the desire of your heart, and causing your soul to yearn for Him in the night and your spirit to long for Him in the morning, for you know that when His judgments come on the earth the people of the world learn righteousness. Isaiah 26
May you honor the name of the Lord your God alone, even though other lords besides Him have ruled over you in the past, for He has established peace for you and all that you have accomplished He has done for you. Isaiah 26
May you enter your room and shut the doors behind you, hiding yourself for a little while until His wrath has passed by, for see, the Lord is coming out of His dwelling to punish the people of the earth for their sins. Isaiah 26
My child, study to discern My Body on earth, even as you study to draw near to Me. There is no quicker or more effective method to learn of Me than through your spiritual family, My Body. As in all of life, the lessons learned and the truths gained are not all happy, but they are all useful. As you bring them to Me, you will be led by My Spirit into the understanding and wisdom that will bind you closer to Me, both in your heart, and through your brothers and sisters. Herein is the true test of your love for Me, that you lay down your life in service to Me as I abide in others. Can you provide a meal for Me when I am in the guise of someone who is sick? Can you serve as a house-cleaner for Me when I am in the form of a widow that needs help? Can you provide transport for Me to get groceries and medicine when I look like someone who cannot repay you or return the favor? Can you give of your time to visit and encourage Me in the hospital or in jail, sharing the sorrow, the pain, the concern that these situations contain, repeating My promises back to Me to comfort and soothe the heart that I abide in? As you show honor to My weaker vessels, My Father will show honor to you. As you lend to the poor, you will receive manifold from heaven. As you strengthen the weak, your victories will multiply. As you defend the helpless, the hosts of heaven will be your defense. Learn to see with your heart, My caring one, for then you will see with My eyes rather than your own. Learn to hear with your spirit, My dear one, for then your ears will not betray you. Not all members of your heavenly family, My Body, are equal in the sight of the world, My astonished one, but each one is cherished, loved, and valued as much by Me as you are. Recognize the depth of My passion toward and for both the parts of My Body that I place in the view of the public for expression and testimony, as well as the hidden ones that I shelter from the disdain of those who do not know Me. Give them each the gift of fellowship, acknowledging My Spirit abiding in them and My gifts ministering through them. Understand that I am the One who has placed them where they are for My purpose and glory, and each shall be seated at My banquet table in places of honor. Draw near to Me, My love, as you draw near to those who love Me.
May you hear the song of joy that the Lord sings over you, a song about a fruitful vineyard that the Lord cares for and watches over, continually watering, guarding by day and night that no harm may come to it, punishing with His great and powerful sword the serpent and the fox, burning the briers and thorns that would encroach, that you will take root, bud and blossom, and fill all the world with the fruit that honors Him and draws those whom He seeks. Isaiah 27
May you receive the Lord as a source of strength to turn back the battle at the gate and a spirit of justice when you sit in judgment, for the Lord Almighty will be a glorious crown, a beautiful wreath for you as you walk in obedience to His guidance. Isaiah 28
May you grasp the vanity of seeking justification from transgression by check-listing your adherence to traditions, customs, or statutes, for it is not “what” you do, but “why” you do it, and when faith in the love of God, which was so fully demonstrated through Christ's willingness to suffer shame, pain, and crucifixion for your sins, is your reason for obedience, then the curse of sin is lifted from you and life is given, even as the Father gave it to the Son. Galatians 3
May you discern the truth that the law, and its promises which were given to every person, was not intended to provide a path to justification, but to convince each one in their heart of the impossibility of pleasing God in their own strength and thus show the need for a redemptive Savior, to Whom the promises of the gospel are made first, Who then opened the way, through faith, for our adoption and engrafting so each may receive the blessings of the covenant made to Abraham and to his Seed. Galatians 3
May you call to the Lord from the ends of the earth, as your heart grows faint, for the Lord will hear your cry and lead you to the Rock that is high, a strong tower, a refuge from the foe. Psalm 61
May you long to dwell in His tent forever and take refuge in the shelter of His wings, for He has heard your vows and given you the heritage of those who fear His name. Psalm 61
May you always be zealous for the fear of the Lord and let not your heart envy sinners, for then is surely a future hope for you, and your hope will not be cut off. Proverbs 23:17-18
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zeroar · 2 years
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Hello world!
Hi! I'm Zero! they/she pronouns please!
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This was meant to be a quick about-me, but I ended up doing something a lot more comprehensive! So yeah, here's that!
I write/work in disability advocacy, social justice, and education. I focus on autism, ADHD, PTSD, cPTSD, and LGBTQIA+.
I am disabled, autistic, dyspraxic, and an ADHDer; I have PTSD—both the acute and cPTSD colors—and prolonged grief disorder; I am nonbinary.
I diagnosed myself with all of these as I grew up and received formal diagnoses for most of them in my 30s. My career in math education mostly ended in 2020 shortly after my love died in the first year of the covid pandemic. Both autistic and career burnout caught up with me; all of these things made continuing being in a classroom untenable.
Although I no longer teach in front of a class, I still write and study on the topics of education, mathematics, and math education.
I have "traits consistent with" being bipolar and having borderline personality disorder (BPD), although I have not been formally diagnosed with those ones. I am probably subclinical for bipolar—"subclinical", as in, a diagnosis would not be appropriate—and I believe that my BPD is better explained through the lens of neurodivergence, PTSD, and cPTSD.
I'm interested in connecting with other advocates, educators, and social-justice-oriented content creators!
More on Diagnoses and Accommodations!
I define "Diagnosis" to mean, "Associating a named condition with the person." There are "good", "neutral", and "bad" diagnoses. I believe the purpose of a diagnosis is to provide perspectives, frames of reference, and actionable accommodations.
Basically, does knowing the diagnosis help the person make sense of their state of being? For external conditions like PTSD or even something like a broken bone, the diagnosis is frequently the first step to recovery. For conditions that are inherent like being autistic or being nonbinary, the diagnosis provides a frame of reference to better understand and interact with the world.
Note that most people want a so-called "accurate" diagnosis, but they define accuracy based on some arbitrary listing of what the condition is and how it affects people. To the point that, eventually, anti-autism groups like Autism Speaks will release what they'll claim is a genetic test for "true" autism.
When that happens, they'll arbitrarily define people as autistic based on if they have those genetic markers or not and say anyone who was self-diagnosed or diagnosed by any other method other than their genetic test are not "actually autistic". Their plan has many objectives, but none of those objectives are about helping autistic people live and thrive with their lives.
It would be like if someone wanted to make all their dishes better by washing and cleaning them and your first step was to throw out any dishes you disliked. Sure, maybe that world seems "cleaner" to you—the person doing the cleaning—but those dishes are not benefited through stripping their status as "deserving to exist" and throwing them in the trash.
A good friend recently introduced me to a wonderful quote that encapsulates a lot of what I believe with respect to accommodations and diagnoses. It comes from Marcus Parks, one of the hosts of the podcast, "The Last Podcast on the Left". He has said, "Your mental health is not your fault, but it is your responsibility."
Too frequently, mental health ends up stigmatized due to the fact that society only really makes a big deal about it or even notices it when it causes friction. We've gotten a little bit better over the years as disabled communities have grown online and we started comparing notes, but for far too long, we only got "diagnosed" as a way to other us.
If you're undiagnosed, good luck! I hope that you will luck into everything you need. But once you get a "good" diagnosis, then you really do start to understand more and more about yourself and what you need in order to not just continue living, but in order to thrive as best you can.
I usually use the analogy of glasses/contacts. I have something like 20/400 or 20/600 vision, which is legally blind, but so long as I have glasses or contacts, I can pretty much get by with only minor inconveniences. It's not my fault that I cannot see, but it is my responsibility to accommodate my vision, and, when my vision is unaccommodated, to not do something like get in the driver's seat of a vehicle.
Because, for the most part, my vision is well-accommodated and only minorly stigmatized by society, I did not list "impaired vision" up front when I was discussing my identities. That being said, it still impacts my life and how I interact with the world. I need to do things like have back-up glasses when I go out wearing contacts or else risk being stranded. I have to think about wearing contacts during any scenario where my glasses are in physical danger.
(I once knocked my glasses off my face swatting at an insect for them to tumble down in front of me... the me sitting on a riding lawn mower at the time. Goodbye glasses. So, now I don't wear glasses to mow the grass).
Especially since 2020, the financial cost of accommodating this condition has been staggering for me, but even then, having impaired vision is something that is well accommodated for me, so although sometimes annoying, it doesn't make me feel like my life is completely different from someone who does not need glasses.
And that's really my current goal for most things I am working on in this advocacy space:
To help people accommodate themselves in ways that are going to give them the best chance for success, and,
To change societal views away from these boogieman-like representations of our people and the conditions we live with.
Thanks for reading!
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rigelmejo · 3 years
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April Progress Update, and May Goals:
*bear with me this is gonna get long.
I’m going to first just look at April goals and see if I did them, then afterward summarize everything I did this month (cause it was a lot more than I planned ToT)
Chinese study plan from April:
1. Read anything 
Well, I did read. However my goal to read hanshe to chapter 80 and Zhenhun to the end of the sundial arc never happened. I did read a lot though. I ended up focusing mainly on extensive reading. 
Chinese chapters read: 62 (I counted graded readers/小王子 as 1 chapter for every two that I read, but this number is probably still inflated... compared to my normal 20-pleco page chapters I probably read 31-40 of those-kind-of-chapters length wise).
Chinese stories finished: 4 (Pleco Graded Reader Butterfly Lovers, Chinese Short Stories, Mandarin Companion Journey to the Center of the Earth, 小王子 - you can tell this is where my attention went this month).
Chinese Listening Reading Method chapters done: 14.5 (4.5 Silent Reading, 2 Chapters of A History of Humankind, 1 chapter hp, 1 chapter Alice in Wonderland, iffy but like 3 chapters 小王子, iffy but like 4 chapters of the Xiao Mao cat story - I should note that for Silent Reading, 小王子, Xiao Mao I only looked at the chinese mostly so more step 2, and for the others I did step 3 as recommended). Also I realize... I should probably count this with hours instead of chapters, because hours are where the original poster about LR mentioned when milestones are hit. However, being realistic, I do not do things in hour segments so I’m not sure any tracking will be as easy as this way...
A cool thing potentially about L R Method? I found some resources recently that will make this a lot easier (Bidiread is a site that can make parallel texts for you, which made silent reading MUCH easier since the audio doesn’t perfectly match so you NEED to see the chinese even if only doing step 3, to make sure you can keep track of where you are in the text when the audio skips paragraphs). I also found Francais Par Le Methode Nature as videos on youtube with audio and the text visible (is that not simply L R method step 2 but its all comprehensible, i love that book). And I found a few files on youtube of audiobooks with english audio and chinese/english parallel text on screen (a bit backwards in process but i’m curious to test it), one youtube channel who does chinese audio with parallel texts on screen (phenomenal!), and I remembered the site bilinguis exists which is excellent for French if you wanna try L R Method (it has a few french audios with the parallel texts). Also in the case of A History of Humankind - the audiobook for once is very closely synced to the actual chapter start/ends, so it was just easier to do L R Method with. 
2. Listen to Chinese Spoonfed Audio, shadowing when I can
YES I did this! I was on 11 last month, now I’m on 15. (so 4 audio this month) Yes I realize that wasn’t a lot of improvement T-T. What can I say I am not very good at being disciplined. However I did learn something interesting this month ABOUT listening to these so I think I might do it more - I listened to some in the background while playing games, then later listened to them again (also why I only got through 4 - I was replaying audios maybe 2 times). And when I listened the second time I could understand nearly all, whereas obviously when playing my game I only caught parts of it. So I suppose what this showed me is partially listening and partially focusing still may have some benefit in helping to learn the info - and well obviously its easier to make time to play audio when u don’t need to focus 100% on it.  
I also did some other misc listening to random stuff without any plan: 6? audio 1 of DeFrancis Beginner Chinese Reader, 1 audio of FSI Chinese, 2 condensed audios of Guardian (which was so cool?? also so cool i can follow along so well now??), 1 dracula chapter audio (don’t even ask i don’t know either), tian ya ke audio drama ep 1.
Chinese show episodes watched: 28 (You can see here is where my time went listening wise lol - Two Souls in One is GOOD u might wanna check it out, is all I’m saying, especially if the taiwan drama Bromance was ur thing, or the anime Ouran Host Club, or even Bureau of Transformer to a degree. I watched up to ep 25 and once its all aired to the finale I’m gonna finish it. 
Optional going through my hanzi book: I burned out on this, but it was a good use of my time when I felt like writing. I only wrote/studied maybe 30 hanzi, and maybe 50 hanzi+radicals in my Radical-Specific hanzi book. If I continue, I think my goal will be to just continue the Radical-book to completion. Realistically, longer term, I need to go through the freaking Alan Hoenig’s Chinese Character’s book just to get the hanzi and their rough meaning to stick in my head (and learn the pronunciations through well context and vocab how I normally do). Right now I just learn through reading, but its an issue of sometimes I just end up associating one hanzi with the new word I learned but then as soon as I see it in a new word I don’t even remember having seen it before. If I paid a bit more attention to distinguishing I might notice when I’ve seen them before or they’re new, and have more starting info to relate to the character to attach the word info onto. (its a convoluted way of me saying if I have things to connect to each other I remember better even if it makes little sense to connect them - if I know car and pet, carpet’s easier to remember even though it has nothing to do with cars, cry in french ‘pleurer’ was easier to remember once my brain thought ‘plume of tears’ even though that makes no sense. i just remember things better than seeing pleurer and having no idea what to attach it to at all - even if i heard it means cry, if i don’t have a thing to associate it with i’ll forget easier. or melancholy - i had to associate it with melons, and cholly - reminds me of words for sickness so heavy-sick +sad is how i started finally remembering that word cause wow did i look it up over and over as a kid).
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Japanese study plan from April:
1. continue through nukemarine’s memrise courses. 
Okay I did do this!! Congrats! In March I had completed LLJ 3 - Kanji, 289/318 finished in LLJ 4 Tae Kim part 1. As of April, I have completed: LLJ 4 Part 1, LLJ 4 Part 2 51/365, LLJ 5  Core Vocabulary 420/1020. So yeah! Going quite well, in that I consistently did it - I realized for me the best time to do it is playing video games oddly enough, or watching youtube - just do it in between areas, or ep scenes/videos, as a short 5-10 minute break. Since I like taking breaks from things anyway. Like audio, its hard for me to find ways to get myself to do stuff like this (except worse cause I don’t vibe with flashcards).
My goal for May will probably be finish LLJ 4 Part 2, LLJ 5, and start LLJ 6? I can dream right...
Also, a cool note: I found audio-flashcard files that people made of the Japanese Core 2k vocabulary deck and sentences, with english-japanese audio. (If anyone wants a link just let me know). So now if I DO eventually get burned out on flashcards, I could switch to using those. They would work about as well as the Chinese Spoonfed Audio files I have (which work extremely well for me - audio flashcards I just listen to are so much more suited to how I study lol). However, I’d like to stick with Nukemarine’s decks as long as possible while I can focus - they cover grammar explicitly which helps me a lot, and the reading practice COMBINED with constant audio really helps me learn the readings of words. Which is something I need for japanese a LOT more than chinese.
2. continue reading Tae Kim’s grammar guide 
Ahahahahaaa hahaaa... did not do it. Nope.
What I did do that was grammar related:
Watched Cure Dolly lessons 1-5 (and will probably watch more as I seem to click well with those explanations)
Read 24 pages of Japanese in 30 Hours while transcribing actual japanese into it (and will probably continue to read it, its so short I should just DO IT in a couple days, it also fulfilled my desire to write stuff)
JapaneseAudioLessons.com - read the wa vs ga explanation, reading the portable japanese grammar notes document right now (its 11 pages I’ll finish it today). I’ve said it before but i really LOVE this resource, and they have so much for free. I absolutely recommend if a beginner wants Pimsleur or Michael Thomas or some other paid resource etc, to just go to this site, download their full lesson grammar guide (its like 311 pages like a real textbook) and go through all their free audio lessons. You will cover a lot of ground (more than Pimsleur or Michael Thomas), and all for free. In addition, I’ve bought some of their kanji teaching books and they’re overall my favorite for remembering kanji specifically (yes more than Heisig’s RTK by far, and more than KKLC - although the Kodanshi book is a good reference to have around). I’m not kidding at all when I say just try this site’s free resources if you’re trying to use free stuff, its the closest I’ve found to an audio only teaching method, or an audio/textbook-like combo, that’s this much stuff and free. (For non free, I actually liked Genki if you do everything in it).
Other misc things done in japanese:
Watched Dracula the Musical in japanese with no subs. It was super hard, but also not so hard. It changed my life. 1000/10 would recommend watching it if you even remotely like dracula OR vampires - featuring a lesbian Dracula/Mina, and more importantly a story change about who kills Dracula, and Dracula and Mina’s agency and choice being the driving force of the ending. These story changes I LOVE and I now want them in more adaptations moving forward, its what I always craved of the ending of Dracula and never got - Dracula as a person (not monster), Mina as a person (not prey), and their choices influencing how the story ends and by whom (versus Van Helsing/the establishment symbol regaining control through annihilation of the ‘threat’ to that norm). Also it gave me a new interest in Japanese plays which is cool. I did not expect to love them this much! Also gave me a boost in japanese confidence, in that I no longer feel as “scared” to try immersing in japanese or in some kinds of content that seemed ‘harder’ - and that was a big hurdle I was too afraid to do, in the past when I studied.
Watched a few more lets plays (lets guess maybe 3-5 sections of 20 minutes?). Persona 2 innocent sin (cool to see me follow along despite not knowing the game), Final Fantasy IX (this one I saved, and could definitely pick up words from since I know some of the story and the lets player read everything - I should look up FFX), random stuff. 
Tried to play some games in japanese! I’m going to go with this was about 3 hours. I tried crisis core’s opening to the first save point - it was playable (I can read most of the menus), and I can follow enough text to get the overall gist - however it was draining as so much is text only (I FORGOT how much reading is in this game). Great for reading practice I suppose. Also great in that it definitely reset my expectations about what is ‘doable’ for me - however I do think KH2 is probably still the easiest game i should start trying games with (since I have so many of the controls/menu memorized and can waste less time re-reading the tutorials), and since I know so many words by memory I’ll be able to focus more on grammar (whereas in CC I was glancing through kanji trying to keep up with the live action scenes). A bit too much reading for me to tackle again for a while, it was draining lol. Then I tried persona 3 for psp - first, i like the ps2/ps3 version better ToT. Second, also somehow I could read enough to survive - but the reading again took time, a lot isn’t voiced, and there are not frequent save points. So again I just played to the first save point. That one I may try again before CC though, because a lot more of the language is daily life stuff I could glance through and speed-read-guess lol, or could actually use if I learned it. Also occassionally p3 reads out loud which is nice. I suspect the Visual Novel I got will actually be best for practice (despite me not knowing the plot at all), because I’m guessing more of the lines will be voiced. All this reading would help me more if I could hear it voiced - and I may want to watch more Lets Plays, and Audiobooks on youtube, mainly for that fact: subtitles that i can read WITH audio so i can practice listening and reading together.
Tried reading a bit! First, some mangas I had (though I only read a page of each) - mainly it was just nice to see mangas are more accessible now. they’re about as readable to me rn as manhua were in chinese at 6-8 months in. I can just about follow the main gist, more if I use a dictionary for details. Also thanks to @yue-muffin​ telling me, learned I can look up words on iphone in the web browser just by highlighting words and clicking “look up.” Life changing. That in combination with me finding some japanese scripts of Final Fantasy games online (and I’ve always been curious what localizations changed), and this has been a little reading I found myself doing just because i felt like it. I didn’t read much - the equivalent of several dialogue boxes (the games i played made me read a LOT more lol). but I liked that i could see their kana when i looked them up, sound the sentences out to myself, contemplate them (so intensive read). Also if you have Speech tools enabled on your phone, you can swipe down with 2 fingers and it will read the page aloud - I used to do that a little with chinese on dual chinese-englist mtlnovel pages since it WILL read both, but Pleco reads chinese better so unless i’m only-listening i switched to pleco for that. But for these scripts it works great! (occasionally it will read all-kanji titles like chinese though lol - not once its into japanese sentences though). I thought it was really cool I could basically emulate what I do in Pleco for chinese, in a normal web browser for Japanese. (Also, for websites, Idiom app seems to work ok for reading Aloud as well - possibly better - but ios iphone “Look up” dictionaries are MUCH better than Idiom app’s).
In summary basically I surprisingly enjoyed reading and might keep trying to do it just because its interesting. However in general, first: I really want 2k words done in Nukemarine’s LLJ courses (LLJ 7 would put me at 1k common words, LLJ 12 would put me at 2k so...), and I’d really like a better grammar foundation (Cure Dolly, or japanese audio lessons grammar, Nukemarine LLJ also obviously fits that task with the grammar portions, really anything). While I want to play games, again I just really realize... how much easier my life will be with a better basis of knowledge first lol. Reading I can do in bite size if I want, but playing games is Draining in between saves right now lol. While i CAN do it right now, unless its a game i really can tune out with (like KH2 maybe) then its just too intensive right now for me to tolerate too much of.
Also, again, I think doing Nukemarine’s LLJ decks as breaks while playing games/watching stuff is working great, going to keep doing that. And listening to audio flashcard files while I have dead time (like level grinding). I have been listening to the Chinese Spoonfed audio, but other options could be: the english-japanese Core 2k audio files, the Japanese Audio Lessons files (which once years ago I’d listen to while excerising). For now I’ve focused on Chinese Spoonfed audio because I know I need to FINISH something before jumping to something else lol. 
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French stuff I did in April:
Listened to 6 chapters of Francais Par Le Methode Nature (and read some of them - oh i missed this book its my fave way to learn and it finally has audio!!)
listened to some bits of audiobooks (i don’t even know why, i don’t know - dracula, frankenstein, carmilla, sherlock)
read a little of Le Petit Prince (idk 3 chapters? browsing my book after finishing in chinese and... ok my heart is still a bit ;-; ... i’m gonna need to recover from this story...)
read a bit of dracula (again... idk why... also it was kind of a L R Method step 2 attempt in that I listened to audio too, but really I mainly just... read)
L R Method: 2 Chapters of Alice in Wonderland (step 2, because I have not tried step 3 yet). 
What is funny as hell to me is both how many words I look up when I contemplate intensive reading (again life changed by the fact i can just highlight words and click “word lookup” on my phone). But also how I already... know I can thoroughly read without doing it. Like... yes I can look up a word I fuzzy-know to get clarification, but even my phone auto-gives me french-french dictionary first and sometimes only (is it because my google is in french), i’ve been used to french definitions only for years.. and also like... i know when i read a whole paragraph i get whatever words were fuzzy before? just read some of dracula again today and its fine. its fine. again informational texts are easier for me - but dracula being a lot of letters ‘describing what happened’ suits me quite easily (and somehow manages to be less annoying to me than the english version). like... alice in wonderland was probably the harder for all the quick adjectives/verbs used in just one or two paragraphs when i was still re-remembering vocabulary i used to know lol. Like... in a dream world i’d love to test L R Method and see HOW MUCH it can teach a person. But like... while french would be the easiest to test it with? I kind of realize i’m also at a point in french where i have more benefit just continuing to read in french and listen in french (to fix my poor listening skills). referencing the english is not really... particularly necessary, it just usually slows me down. while i’m missing a LOT of words for fluent speaking/grammatically ok speaking - i don’t think listening reading method would really help me with that, since reading sure hasn’t. if any readng material might it’s francais par le methode nature just because it drills simple correct grammar construction, and reinforces it, and teaches grammar through context. but all my other reading materials... are more comprehension... 
Anyway in SUMMARY wow i did a lot more than i expected this month!
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Next months goals!
Chinese May Goals:
***Read anything. Great plan, has been working great. Ideally I would like to: finish Xiao Mao book one, and then either continue another Xiao Mao novel or start one of the other stories rated 2+ ease. I am considering  许三观卖血记 because its about as easy as the little prince, I’ve read an excerpt and its historical fiction so generally practical. Or  流星·蝴蝶·剑 by Gu Long if I want to work on a base in wuxia words from an easier novel. Or  他们的故事 by 一根黄瓜丝儿 if I’m ready to return to it - although this one is longer (the other stories being more like 12-20 chapters) so I’d prefer to save this for later. For any of these - look words up as desired since I’ll read them in Pleco. Ideally as my ‘harder’ reading I would like to either continue hanshe (intensive reading), or continue guardian (extensive reading) - so its a matter of if I want to look words up.
***Continue listening to Chinese Spoonfed Audio (please can i Finish it please ;-;)
Optional: experiment with Listening Reading Method. With the finding of those videos on youtube, I’d like to make my life literally as easy and streamlined as possible and literally just TEST L R Method by doing it with a few of the videos I found. It literally cannot get easier than premade videos with audio.
Other optional: listen to misc audio (I would love the time to watch the tian ya ke audiodrama WITH its subtitles then listen without again), watch shows, read Alan Hoenig’s Chinese Characters (i doubt this will happen), do some of my Radical-hanzi book. 
Japanese May Goals:
***Continue: Nukemarine’s LLJ courses - ideally finish LLJ 4 Part 2, LLJ 5, and start LLJ 6. (this truly can be basically my only study method if I can’t do more). THIS IS THE PRIORITY. The quicker I get ALL of this done, the more of a foundation I will have to do Anything else.
Hopefully: Continue some kind of grammar explanation beyond Nukemarine’s stuff - either Tae Kim (unlikely but i was at chapter 10 before), Cure Dolly (i’m on 6), Japanese Audio Lessons Grammar, Japanese in 30 Hours while writing japanese in (I’m on page 24). Again this is a higher priority as it will make anything else easier.
Optional: Reading in any form - so video game time, lets plays, audiobook youtube with captions, actual reading as desired (like scripts). Including this because I know I will eventually try again lol.
Optional: listening in any form - so another musical! maybe listen to japanese audio lessons, or the core 2k audio, or a lets play, etc. I find I’m probably less likely to listen to something but it might happen!
French May Goals*:
*aka if I feel like doing it because french has no real goals at the moment! -3-)/
***Continue watching Le Francais Par Le Methode Nature videos. (There’s only 33, they’re like 10 minutes long or less, its about basics, PLEASE). I remember this book took forever to read 1/3 of when i was an upper beginner, well now surely its less slow going? especially because read aloud its as fast as the speakers voice! so it is not time consuming and i’ve wanted to finish this book forever! i could at least finish it up to where the audio files match to!
Read???? Read??? Honestly I’ve just been wanting to read Dracula and Carmilla in French its a vibe I’ve been in. Its not high priority or anything but hey it might happen. If it does happen, ideally I’d like to listen to an audiobook too around the same time (maybe after, or have the page read, idk). Just because while reading refreshes my vocab, what I really want to build up is listening/pronunciation. To get to a point where I can listen and shadow would be nice. 
Tied to above, try L R Method? Not a high priority, though it would be super easy to test! Just because I already started testing it with Alice in Wonderland... but that basically amounts to just reading practice with audio again, for me.
I found Merlin in french so THAT is a thing.
Honestly the only thing I really want to do ‘study’ wise in french is finish that freaking book, especially now that I can listen to audio with it. It’s a nice foundation and I’d really like a refresher/fill in any big gaps in my learning. Anything else about french written here is mostly a reminder to myself to LISTEN to audio when possible, and try and improve that skill a bit if I go and read. 
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Real fast CORE SUMMARY:
Chinese: READ easier stories rated 2+ and keep getting through some, in combination with reading the harder hanshe and Guardian. Also listen to Chinese Spoonfed audio whenever u remember! Attempt some L-R method with the youtube videos you found. Immerse as desired.
Japanese: continue Nukemarine LLJ courses. Also do some grammar study somewhere, and immerse as desired.
French: listen/listen-read to Francais Par Le Methode Nature. Also read/listen as desired - ideally combining the activities.
*in all cases, where possible, combine listening-reading or try to practice both skills. (So reading in Pleco - play audio afterward to practice, play Guardian condensed audio in down time, with audiodramas follow subs when possible, when immersing with anything try L-R like strategies to add practice with both skills). 
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maddiwrites · 4 years
Text
Breathe With Me
Pairing: JJ x Reader
Summary: After finding out who hurt you on that horrific night, JJ helps you through another panic attack and makes plans to protect his girl.
Note: This was requested a long time ago after a chapter of my rewrite was posted! Instead of doing JJ x OC, like requested, I changed it to JJ x Reader so that people who don’t read my rewrite can enjoy it too. Hopefully this is okay with ya’ll. 
Word Count: 3.5k
WARNINGS: Sexual Assault!!! This chapter has descriptions of sexual assault. Please do not read if this is TRIGGERING!!!! 
National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673
Masterlist
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It was another regular day on the island. Hot and crowded with tourists. With everyone working, you decided to tag along with JJ and Pope to delivery groceries for Heyward’s business. Usually this meant going to Figure Eight, your least favorite place to be. Normally it didn’t creep you out too much, but because of a rather recent incident, you didn’t like being there.
Right after your dad went missing, you spent a lot of time with Kie as she lived out her Kook Year. Avoiding the Pogues and John B and surrounding yourself with stuck up assholes and their expensive drugs and alcohol helped you forget about your own family crisis. You would do anything to take your mind off your dad’s disappearance even if it meant getting high on whatever was offered to you. You didn’t ask twice about what it was. You figured if the rich people we’re doing it, it couldn’t be that bad right?
One night you did a long line surrounded by Rafe and a couple of his buddies. Pretty much everything after that was a blur. Your memories are fuzzy, like a puzzle piece you can’t piece together. The last thing you remember is your black hitting something soft, like a mattress or a pillow. You thought you heard the zipper of your shorts being pulled down but figured it was Kie helping you change into a pair of pajamas. 
The next morning you woke up practically naked with a blanket covering your bottom half and your bra pulled down to your stomach. You began to panic and ran your hands down your side, flinching at the tenderness by your hips. The skin was yellow/green and getting ready to bruise. Your breathing became shallow and your throat tightened up. You fumbled around the room you didn’t recognize for your clothes and slid them on, not caring what was backwards or inside out. You stumbled out the door and tip toed down the long staircase of the large house you were in. Figure Eight, you thought. 
You didn’t go home first. You went to Kie’s house. Because your body ached. Because you wanted to cry but didn’t want John B or the other boys to hear you. Because you were afraid to be naked around anyone but another girl. The second she opened the door, you sobbed into her arms and told her what you think happened to you. Kie tried to get you to go to the police or even the hospital, but you couldn’t fathom the idea of anyone knowing about what happened. Not even a stranger. Because you were embarrassed. You blamed yourself for this happening to you. You were high as fuck, trying to forget about your family troubles. You were the one to make yourself weak and vulnerable. No one else. Someone just took advantage of the position you put yourself in.
Kie didn’t pressure you. She wanted to support you in whatever decision you made, despite wanting justice for you and sending whoever the sleaze bag was to jail. She sat on the toilet and talked to you as you showered slowly. You spent most of the time staring at the wall and feeling ever inch of your body. You felt so dirty and no amount of soap or scrubbing could make you feel any cleaner. 
You stayed at her house for a couple of days until John B eventually texted her because he was worried. You both decided it was time for you to go home, but you never told them what happened. You were afraid of what John B and even JJ would do if they found out. And the last thing you wanted was for either of them to get hurt or in trouble.
John B didn’t notice something was off as much as JJ did. He could tell you were being more quiet and reserved than usual. Your usual style of crop tops and jean shorts changed to sweats and baggy t shirts. You slept with your door locked and didn’t touch a single can of beer since you came home.
Moving on from that night was a slow and gruesome process, one you don’t know if you’ll ever fully recover form. Luckily for you, JJ was a great distracter. He was an amazing story teller, he could make you laugh with a small hand gesture, and his laugh could draw you in for hours. No one was surprised when the two of you eventually started dating. Not even John B, who was a little apprehensive about it at first. 
To JJ, everything came to light when another make out session became heated. Like that morning, it became hard to breathe and your mind wandered off to what could have happened to you that night. In a blink of an eye, you were back in Figure Eight with someone pulling your zipper down. You could physically feel the bruises on your hips again and your skin burning. 
A panic attack emerged and JJ was left confused and lost. Fortunately for you, he was quick to realize something was seriously wrong and helped you through it. He breathed with you and talked you down. When you were calm, you explained what happened. At first he was pissed. Pissed at whoever could have done this to you and even a little bit at you and Kie for keeping this from him. He was ready to charge out of the house, grab John B, and find the sick son of a bitch who would touch an unconscious girl. But your cries stopped him. He’s never heard pain in your voice like he did that night. It physically cracked his heart into a million little pieces and he dropped every instinct he had and stayed with you instead. 
Since then, he’s been the most supportive and protective boyfriend. At every boneyard party, he would keep an eye out for any Kook that decided to show their face on your turf. He took note of anyone looking at you in a weird way. He carried the gun he stole from Scooter in his backpack for protection. He was serious about using it too. No one touches his girl and gets away with it.
Luckily, nothing happened between JJ and any Kook. No one made a move to talk to you or tease you. Kooks kept their usual distance from you, which not only made you feel better for yourself but because you didn’t want something to happen to JJ. You know the rules of the game of this island. Nothing bad ever happens to Kooks. They don’t know consequences. 
When Pope docks his boat, he asks if you would come with him to drop groceries off at the Thorntons. If he did it alone, it would cause two trips and he doesn’t want to waste time. 
As you go to agree, JJ steps in and shakes his head as he looks between you two. “I don’t think thats a good idea.”
“Why not?” Pope asks, completely clueless.
You subtly shake your head, silently begging for JJ not to say anything. Pope and John B still didn’t know and you want to keep it that way. Sure you would feel safer with JJ by your side, but you won’t be alone. You will be with Pope. And who would try to start something in the middle of the day anyway?
“It’s fine, J,” You tell him. You even try to joke. “I’m sure you’ll survive one hour without me.”
When you kiss his cheek, JJ turns to look at you with his brows pinched together with worry. “Y/N...”
“Seriously, J...” You say. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” You whisper that last part as Pope turns to get the bags. 
“You have your phone?”
You nod and pull it out of your pocket to show him. “Yes. I’ll call you if anything happens.”
As JJ walks in the opposite direction of you and Pope, you feel the tension in your shoulders get tighter. The sight of these homes gives you flashbacks. The worst part about all of this is you don’t even know who hurt you. It could’ve been anyone - a touron even. It would be easier to know who did it so you know who to avoid. 
Pope notices your change in behavior but doesn’t mention it. Instead he keeps a silent eye on you and studies your every movement. 
As you pass the golf course, you hear a couple cat calls and cheering from a group of teenagers. When you look up, you see Rafe, Topper, and one of their friends making their way over to you. You take a step behind Pope, hiding behind his body and keeping your eyes trained down on your shoes. 
“What do we have here?” Rafe whistles as he comes closer. He looks down at the bags in your arms and the beer in Pope’s hand. “Bring us something?”
“These are already paid for,” Pope glares at them.
“Oh, right, right,” Rafe nods as if he understands. Then he takes is golf club and swings it at the brown paper bag in Pope’s arms, causing everything to spill out of it. 
“Dude!” 
“Sorry, man!” Rafe holds his hands up in fake surrender. He leans down to pick up a beer bottle and tosses it to his tall friend. “Trevor, you feeling thirsty?”
The guy, better known as Trevor, cracks the beer open and takes a long sip. When he looks down, he spots you and eyes your figure up and down. Then he smirks to himself and a shiver runs down your spine. You don’t like the way he’s looking at you. Like a piece of meat or someone he knows too much of. 
Rafe catches his eye and smirks to himself. “Ah, yeah. I forgot. You and Routledge have some history.”
Pope looks over his shoulder at you and sees your chest rising and dropping at a quicker pace. You’re gripping the bags in your hands so tight that he can see your knuckles turning white. You look away from the group of Kooks at the golf course with a frown on your face. Something was wrong, Pope thought. 
“Yeah, you could say that,” Trevor chuckles. He looks at you again and tilts his head. “What? You don’t remember me?”
“Pope...” You feel like you’re choking. How could he know you when you have no idea who he is? You don’t like where this is going.
Trevor continues, “Can’t say I blame you. You were out of your mind wasted that night -”
“What the hell is he talking about?” Pope says, looking between you and Trevor. He wasn’t one to get confrontational or angry, but he didn’t like what he was hearing. He didn’t like how you were acting. Something wasn't adding up. He knew you’ve hooked up with Kooks before, but this one was different. 
“Almost as dead as her daddy,” Rafe chuckles. Something in Pope snaps and he pushes Rafe back by his shoulders. In retaliation, Rafe raises his golf club and smacks it against the middle of Pope’s back, causing him to fall down with a thump. 
“Pope!” You cry and drop the bags you were holding and kneel next to him. 
“Hey,” Trevor touches your shoulder to try and pull you away from the two fighting boys, but you flinch away from him. 
“Don’t touch me! Get away from me!” You cry.
Trevor immediately holds up his hands in surrender and takes a step back. Your outburst causes everyone to freeze in their movements, even Rafe and Pope. The wheels in Topper’s head start to move a little quicker too. He looks between you and Trevor and feels off about your connection. You looked terrified. And Y/N Routledge was almost never terrified. 
Even though you are outside, you feel claustrophobic. Your heart is beating so heavily against your ribcage that you wouldn’t be surprised if it were to break your ribs. Pope notices you’re two shades paler and having a hard time breathing. Tears are silently falling down your face and you continue to crawl away form the group of Kooks backwards. 
“Y/N...” Pope says quietly.
“We should go,” Topper says. He never hated you like some of the other Kooks did. Sure you never got along, but a small part of him thought you were cool. He knew something was extremely wrong and he couldn’t help but think it had to do with their friend, Trevor. He looks at Rafe who continues to stare at you with surprise. “Dude.”
“Yeah...” Rafe says slowly. “Trev, let’s go.”
The three Kooks scatter back to the golf course. You squeeze your eyes tightly and grip the fabric of your shirt, pulling it away from your body because right now it just feels suffocating. 
“Hey.” Pope crouches down near you and lightly touches your shoulder. His touch feels like an electric shock, making you flinch even further away. When you open your eyes, you’re back in some random Kook’s house on a mattress you’re unfamiliar with. “They’re gone. Hey, they’re gone.” Pope tries to be gentle with you, but he also wants to get you out of here and in a more comfortable setting. 
“JJ,” You manage to say. Your throat feels on fire. “I need J-”
Pope immediately starts fumbling for his cell phone and dials his best friend’s number. He bounces on the balls of his feet as he impatiently listens to the ringing. “Come on. Come on.”
JJ answers. “Hey! Sorry I’m on my way back now. You’ll never believe how much this lady tipped me. I swear I’m coming on every -”
“JJ, shut up and listen to me. Y/N...” He glances back at you and sees you’re hunched over with your forehead resting on your knees and your fingers through your hair. “She’s having a panic attack or something. I - I don’t -”
“Where are you?” JJ’s once elated tone has dropped to a more serious one. 
Pope tries explaining what part of the golf course they are near. 
“Okay. I’ll be there in five minutes. Pope, get her under some shade or something. And if you can, try to get her to look at you. She needs to open her eyes to see where she is.” Pope nods, forgetting that JJ can’t see him. “Pope!”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Okay, doing that now.”
JJ hangs up the phone so he can run faster. 
Meanwhile, Pope crouches down in front of you again and says, “Y/N/N, hey. Can you open your eyes?” Pope lightly taps your ankles. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.” You slowly blink your eyes open and sniffle back the tears. Pope smiles when he sees he’s made some sort of progress. “Hey. JJ’s on his way. Why don’t we move you under some shade? It’s getting pretty hot out here. Can I help you up?”
You nod and let Pope help you up and bring you a couple feet away under a large tree. Your back rests against the bark and you try taking deep breaths to calm the swirling nausea in your stomach. 
It was Trevor. It had to be Trevor. From the way he looked at you, to the innuendo Rafe made. You knew in your heart that it was Trevor who had hurt you that night. 
A part of you always wanted to know who did this, but another part of you wished you never figured it out. Because now his face will haunt you forever.
About a minute later, you hear another set of footsteps quickly coming your way. You panic, your immediate thought going to Trevor. Would he come back? 
But then you hear your boyfriend’s beautiful voice. “Hey.” His tone is soft and gentle. “Hey, baby. Look at me. It’s JJ.” You open your eyes and meet the lovely blue one’s you fell in love with. He grins at you and takes your hands in his. 
“I’m so - sorry,” You sob, suddenly hating yourself for bringing this back up to your boyfriend and ruining Pope’s work routine. “I - I -”
“Hey,” JJ says and pulls your hands to his chest, palms down. “Remember what we did last time? Match my breathing, okay? Ready? Take a deep breath.”
Pope watches with awe silently from the sidelines. He’s never seen this side of either one of you. You so panic stricken and scared, JJ so intent with concern and intuitive. 
You follow JJ’s breathing until you feel calm enough to breathe on your own. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” JJ shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
You look down at your hands that are folded in your lap. You want to tell him. Of course you want to tell him. But you’re afraid of what happens next. You’re afraid of how JJ will respond.
“Rafe, Topper, and their friend Trevor jumped us,” Pope answers for you. Like JJ, he’s also curious about what happened. Of course he was there for the physical breakdown, but he wants to know more about what you’re going through emotionally. 
“Did they hurt you?” JJ looks back at you and inspects every inch of your open skin for signs of scratches or bruises. 
You shake your head.��“No.”
“Then...”
“I know who it was,” You say, your voice as soft as a whisper. 
“What? You mean. -” JJ’s head snaps back and forth between you and Pope. “Who?”
You dip your chin into your chest to hide your tears as they start to flow again. You take a deep breath and look back up at your boyfriend. “Trevor.”
“Who the fuck is Trevor?” JJ looks at Pope. 
Pope shrugs, “I don’t know. He was golfing with the other two Kooks.”
“Where’d they go?” JJ stands up, causing both you and Pope to follow him.
“No, JJ -” You try to pull him back to you but he slips his wrist out of your grip. 
“JJ!” Pope calls out to JJ who walks in the direction the other three disappeared to. 
“JJ, stop!” Your voice cracks which makes JJ turn around to look at you. “Please. I just want to go home.”
JJ freezes and bites down on his bottom lip, feeling conflicted. His head is telling him to run after the Kooks and beat every single one of their faces in until he finds the one named Trevor. But his heart is telling him to walk back to you and take care of you. 
“Okay,” he decides and wraps his arm around your waist. “Let’s get you home.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
After you fall asleep later that night, JJ tip toes out of your room and silently shuts your door behind him. You passed out early, exhausted from the panic attacks and crying. In the living room, Pope, Kie, and John B are waiting. You had no other choice but to tell John B what happened. Now that Pope knew, it felt wrong keeping it from your brother as well. Of course it caused an argument, but in the end, John B only wants the best for you and to protect you. Which is why they’re here now.
“Ready to go?” JJ looks directly at your brother.
John B holds up his car keys. “Let’s go.”
“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” Kie grabs John B by the elbow and glares at both of them.
“Where do you think?” JJ says.
When Pope and Kie stepped out of the room to check on you, JJ and John B both secretly decided that when you fell asleep, the two of them would sneak out and find this Trevor person and give him what he deserves. 
“Don’t be stupid,” Pope says, looking between the two. “You know how this works. The two of you end up getting in trouble and he gets to walk away clean.”
“I don’t care. I’ll kill him -”
“You can’t,” Kie says.
“I’m not asking for your permission, Kie!”
“Where’s the gun?” Kie says. “If you’re going to do this, I’m not letting you bring the gun. Leave it here.”
JJ looks up at John B who reluctantly nods his head for JJ to give it up. The blonde sighs and reaches into the back of his waistband and pulls it out.
“This is a bad idea,” Pope says again even though he knows the other two don’t give a shit. In a way, he kind of respects it. He would go to if he didn’t have a scholarship to worry about.
“Keep an eye on her. We’ll be back in a couple hours,” John B says.
“You better hope you are. Because if you’re not, you’re only going to be making this worse for her,” Kie tells them.
Kie’s words have both John B and JJ rethinking their decision. But only for a split second. 
JJ nods. “Don’t worry. I’d never leave my girl behind.”
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clockworkspider · 2 years
Text
Under the Bridge
Keito & Rei, relationship studies. Pre-Crossroad. 1k words.
“Let’s go on a date.” 
Those were indeed a series of words that had came out of Rei’s mouth. 
“What?” Keito said, and then, “Why?” 
“Because we never just hang out anymore, and I miss my best friend.” 
Keito, for his part, had the decency to look a bit guilty. “I’m sorry, Sakuma-san. But there was an… incident at the archery club. And I need to do some clean up.” 
“I’ve heard about that from Mikejima-kun, I thought you two already took care of it. I have to say—” The smile dropped from Rei’s face then, replaced by an expression of concern. “—I didn’t expect you to be so… direct… in your method.” 
“Of course you heard of it… Do you disapprove? I’m sure Sakuma-san could have came up with a cleaner method. But we handled it on our own, and now I have to tidy up the loose ends.” 
“No need to be so defensive, Bouzu, I’m not criticizing you.” He could tell he got Keito’s hackles rising, and held up a calming hand. These days, his childhood friend had been stressed and easily irritable. Rei had an inkling as to why, but it wasn’t a problem for him to solve. “I’m just glad you weren’t hurt.” 
“Oh… Well… Thank you for your concern, then.” Keito said, “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I need to finish these paperwork, and then I need to find a few people and speak with them.” 
“Alright, I’ll give you a challenge, just like the old times,” Rei grinned, all bright and pearly teeth, “Show me a good time, and I’ll help you tidy up all the loose ends.” He winked. 
“Don’t act like this wasn’t your job in the first place, Rei-san. You’re the student council president.”
“A job that I accepted only because you begged me, Bouzo. Wasn’t it in our agreement that I’m just gonna be a figurehead?”
“If you don’t plan to help, then get out. Someone has to take care of this.” 
“Come now, have you forgotten that you’re still a child? You’re no fun when you’re all work and no play. At this point you’ll turn grey at 20. You need a break! Take me somewhere fun, and if I have a good time, I’ll help you with all the shady stuff tomorrow. As your senior, I have more connections than you do in this school, you know?” 
Keito considered this, and seemed to have taken the bait. “I don’t think I know anywhere fun that you wouldn’t know already.” He frowned. 
“Try me.” Rei grinned. 
“A manga store? Really?” 
“They have a small but well curated section on doujinshi, you can find some rare gems here.” 
“Of course they do.” Rei laughed. “But Hasumi-kun, this is just what you like.” 
“You still enjoy manga, don’t you? This is an acceptable hang out spot for two teenage boys which takes consideration of our shared interest.” 
“Sure, but I’d like for you to try a little harder if you’re trying to impress me.” 
Keito sighed. “Why do I have to do that in the first place? Nothing impresses you anymore, Sukuma-san.” 
In fact, Keito couldn’t seem to remember Rei being impressed at all, by anyone. Especially not him. It had always been the other way around. 
(It was childish arrogance that prevented him from noticing back then—)
“Yes, life is so dreadfully boring, isn’t it? That’s why I’d like to see you try.” 
Keito furrowed his brows and appeared to be considering this proposition very seriously, as if presented with a riddle to be solved. It was one of the more endearing qualities of his childhood friend, thought Rei. 
“I think I know just the place,” he concluded, with a definitive little nod. 
“This is the underside of a bridge,” Rei observed, dryly. 
A very wide bridge. The type where the underside is a dark tunnel. There were garbage and cigarette butts strewn on the ground and graffitis on the walls. If you looked into the corners, you could see dried bits of vomit, and stains that could be either blood or rust. This was the type of place people get murdered in. 
“Have you finally lost your patience and decided to get rid of me? You should not underestimate the strength of a vampire, you know?” 
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Keito snapped. And then he cleared his throat, and begun to sing. 
It wasn’t an idol song. It was Enka, with lilting syllables characteristic to traditional Japanese songs. The notes reverberated against the walls of the tunnel, making it sound more like a religious hymn than contemporary music. After a few verses, he stopped. 
“I come here to practice sometimes.” 
“It’s not quite the right ambience for idol songs, is it?” 
“We still need to work on our basic vocals.” 
Rei laughed, closed his eyes, and begun to sing. The melody of a rock anthem, sung like a holy hymn. His voice rang loud and clear, without reservation or reverence. He did not let the reverberations guide him, but commanded the space to his will. It was a calling, an invitation, a decree, and Keito could only join in and carry the song to its completion. The trash and debris no longer seemed to matter. It was a domain transformed and tamed by Sakuma Rei’s voice. 
“Not bad,” Rei appraised, huffing as the last of the reverberation faded from the tunnel. His red eyes shone with mirth. “This is a great find, Hasumi-kun. I’m very pleased. Thank you for sharing this spot with me.” 
“You’re amazing, you know that?” Keito said, a breathless laugh escaping his throat, part wonder, part despair. 
“Sakuma-san, the school is crumbling, decaying in its past glories. The students are unmotivated and the staff has all but given up on us. Those who wants to work hard can slave away their lives and be treated like nothing but a joke. Something needs to change. Help me bring forth a revolution, Sakuma-san. 
“With your power, we can take Yumenosaki— no, the idol world to a higher stage. If it’s you, I know you’ll be able to do it.” His eyes were shining with so much hope and vigor. 
So much expectation. 
They stared at each other in silence for what seemed like an eternity. 
“Perhaps you're right,” Rei finally said, smiling and turning away. 
He didn’t say yes. 
Keito never returned to the underside of that bridge after that. 
Written to the song Blindness by Metric. Tho it's for mood more than the lyrics.
@honeybeekao Remember how you requested for 2nd year KeiRei? I was like "oh maybe Rei dragged Keito away from work and forced him to hang out and take a break" and then it turned into this... I think I lost my ability to write fluff.
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kyun-toast · 3 years
Text
[ATEEZ] Mafia!San - Will You Join Me?
word count: 2.9k warnings: explicit language, gun use, violence, description of death (not explicit), sexually suggestive, gets a lil steamy summary: cupid has a bullet with your name on it a/n: Y/N a little dramatic and San annoying af. I wrote this in a two hour flash at 2am, so this might be deleted after I reread it tomorrow because I’m pretty sure a lot of this is just me chatting shit.
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1. Yoon, David – 12:45 Note to self: likes donuts. probs dunkin’, maybe krispy? idk just look for a man w a paper bag.
“I’ll have to warn you though, the lift is under maintenance, so you’ll have to take the stairs.” The receptionist smiled at you sympathetically. “I can get someone to help you with your suitcase if you’d like?”
“Oh no, it’s ok, I’ll just find another place to stay. I have weak knees anyway.” You forced a laugh and hoped the lady didn’t notice the dead look in your eyes.
“I’m sorry about that, love.”
Turning away with your suitcase in tow, you headed towards the building opposite the hotel and hoped that the rooftop would be easy enough to access.
It was quite irresponsible of you not to have a backup plan. It seemed that being named the sharpest shooter in the underground world had gotten to your head a little, but you argued that a bit of spontaneity never hurt anybody. Though your target would beg to differ.
Being a public building of offices, it was all too easy for you to reach the roof of the building. You found that walking with your held head high and gaze set straight ahead would never get you questioned. Who would ever stop someone with a walk so confident?
Thankfully, the rooftop hadn’t been turned into some garden space: an air-conditioning fan over here, a water tank over there. You checked your wristwatch reading 12:40 and muttered under your breath. The damn hotel lift had taken precious minutes of your time and compromised your view.
You opened your suitcase to set up your sniper, giving your little black cat charm on the side of your gun a squish. Cute.
Sitting on the case with your stock snug against your shoulder, you peered into the scope to get a closer view of the revolving doors to the bank. Oh great, there’s a lamppost in the way.
Mr. Yoon was apparently quite the punctual man, always seen stepping into the bank doors after his lunch break at exactly quarter to one and therefore, your window of opportunity was thin.
“I want it done today or you’re getting sniped yourself, Y/N.” You heard the voice of your boss yap in your head again. Blah blah blah, same old threat. You argued that procrastinating the man’s death was actually something very considerate of you to do.
You heard a familiar clatter of metal hit the floor and you turned your scope to the rooftop opposite to see a man in overalls with his toolbox open on the floor.
“Lift maintenance guy?” You muttered to yourself and wondered if the mechanics of elevators ran all the way through to the rooftop. You made sure that you wouldn’t be in his line of vision and swivelled back to your original position, cursing the man under your breath for ruining your first choice of setup.
12:44
“Come on, Yoon. Lunch time’s almost over.” Your finger lay restless on the trigger, itching to get a glimpse of the bank teller.
20 seconds.
“Krispy or Dunkin’ what will it be today, entertain me.”
10 seconds.
You saw the man turn the corner and waited for him to get a little closer for you to shoot.
5 seconds.
“That’s it, just past the lamppost and you won’t even know what hit y- what the FU-?” You shouted and quickly clasped a hand to your mouth. Mr. Yoon hadn’t even made it past the post, and he was already laying on the pavement in a growing pool of blood.
Calculating the angle in which he was laying, you spun your vision around to the hotel rooftop and saw the maintenance man begin to pack up a sniper back into his toolbox. Taking off his cap, you noticed a flash of white in his jet-black hair and just like he knew you were watching, he turned with a smug grin on his face and shot you some finger guns.
“Oh, you little fucker.” You spat, and watched the man jump down into a hatch to disappear.
You slumped dramatically onto the floor and splayed your limbs to stare blankly at the sky. Never in your life had you ever missed a shot, let alone have it stolen by someone else, and your boss had your phone ringing to rub it in your face.
“That wasn’t you, was it?”
“Listen, what if? You know, what if that was my thirteenth reason? I just couldn’t take it anymore and that was it. No more Y/N. You wouldn’t even come to my funeral, would you?”
“No, I wouldn’t because you’d be too broke to have one. You realise you’re not getting paid for this?”
“Why? He’s still dead?” You sat up in disbelief.
“Well, it turns out someone else wanted him gone too. I can’t lie to our client and say that we did it.”
“You’re oddly moral for someone that runs a hotline for hitmen.”
“I’ll call you if I find you another job.”
“Justice for freelance contract killers.” You muttered weakly as he ended the call. The faint sound of police sirens filled the air as you let out a heavy sigh and lay back on the concrete.
You pictured the man and wondered who it was that would even think to render the notorious Y/N L/N jobless. Though you did have to admit that it was a clean shot.
“Skunk-hair looking ass.”
2. Kim, Seungho – 18:00 Note to self: babysitting. easy target but kid knows NOTHING.
You were stationed by a corner window in an unfinished apartment building with a trainee by your side, setting up his kit.
Stood by the trainee, you scanned to see if everything was in the right place, checking the kid’s posture too. You had been sent by your boss to reluctantly train a young recruit and you joked if you had been demoted following your last predicament. You were never in it for the money though, you lived for the adrenaline.
The boy had potential and you saw it, he just needed to make cleaner shots because three bullets somewhat near the target’s vital organs wasn’t going to cut it.
“What’s your name again?”
“Jisung. Han Jisung.” The recruit replied, his eyes never leaving yours, in absolute awe.
“Eyes on the scope.”
“I’m sorry, nobody told me I’d be getting trained by you. The Seoul Shooter? Like wow.”
“Ew, is that what they’re calling me?”
“Yeah, well I think it’s a pretty cool name, they used to call me ‘Jitman’ in my hometown, not very creati-”
You shushed the boy and tapped his shoulder as you pointed to a small figure in the distance.
“You see him through the scope? Now keep your hand steady, never feel as if you’re being rushed. Death works to your schedule.”
“Got it.” Jisung said, following the man with his gun.
“Ok, on 3… 2… 1…”
You heard the bullet cut through the evening air and hit the target neatly through his office window.
“Bro? That was so clean? That has to be one of the sexiest shots I’ve seen in a while-” You began.
“Uhh, that wasn’t me, Y/N.”
Before you could even process what had happened, you heard the rustle of footsteps patter down the stairs behind you. Taking out your handgun, you moved towards the open door to find the same man you had seen on the hotel rooftop stop in his tracks on the landing. Clad in a fitted black sweater and jeans this time, he looked a whole lot more attractive close up.
“You again?” You exclaimed; gun still pointed at the man as he dropped his duffel bag to raise his hands.
His eyes widened, not in shock, but more with an excited glint in his eyes.
“Oh my, it’s Y/N, the Seoul Shooter.” A coy smile painted his lips as he shook his white fringe out of his eyes.
“See, everyone calls you that.” Jisung interjected from behind.
“Shut up, Han.”
“Word around town is that you’ve been unemployed for some time now,” nodding towards Han, he added, “and it looks like the rumours are true.”
“I’ve actually decided to take a break you know? Let the other kids have a chance at making a name for themselves. Bit of charity work.”
“Y/N kinda got demoted because you keep taking their shots.” Han interrupted again.
“Hey, who told you that?!” You narrowed your eyes at the boy. Han Jisung was a smart ass and you vowed then and there that you wouldn’t take on any more training sessions.
You whipped your head back around to the man eyeing your body up and down.
“My eyes are up here, sir. Unless you really wanna get shot.” You spat.
“Well, I’d die a happy man if you were the last thing I’d see.” He smirked in retaliation and studied your eyes carefully. “Well, my job here is done, I better be on my way. Got a big cheque waiting for me.” He grinned as he reached to grab his bag and carry his way on down the stairs with footsteps too light-hearted for your liking.
“Why didn’t you shoot him?” Jisung asked as you watched the man disappear into the evening.
“I don’t think killing a man for taking my shots is justified.”
“What, and sniping Mr. Kim Seungho just before he gets to feel the bliss of clocking out is?” He laughed. “Do you know what I think, Y/N?”
“What?”
“I don’t know, I’m not going to say anything.”
Han Jisung tormented you the whole drive back to the quarters.
“Y/N and Skunk Man sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes lo-”
Smack.
“Ouch, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was just kidding.” He laughed as an idea struck him, “K-I-D-D-I-N-”
Smack.
3. Park, Kiha - 10:32 Note to self: bad man. bad, bad man. but big, big cheque.
Having had your last two shots stolen, mystery Skunk Man was beginning to get on your nerves. You were seething to the point that you demanded your boss give you another job, itching to defend your title of being the finest shooter in Seoul.
Laying on the floor of a rooftop hangar, the man had the gall to pop up out of the hatch to set up his station right next to you, as if you were both on some picnic.
"Nice seeing you here today, Y/N." He said, sitting cross legged to mount a scope to the top of his sniper.
Not even bothering to take your eyes off the target, you muttered, "I got here first, you better back off." voice laced with venom.
"Well I've been promised a cheque too, we're all just trying to get fed around here."
Ignoring him, you glanced down at your watch that read 10:31. Any time now, Park Kiha would be walking through the glass bridge to get to his meeting in the twin building.
Steadying your finger against the trigger, you held your breath and counted down from three, two, o-
"I like your cat charm by the way."
You pulled the trigger only for it to stray a little to the right, still hitting your target, just a little less central than you would have accepted.
You shot up from your position to face the man laying on his side, head propped up against his hand to look at you.
"Do you have something against me? Do I even know you?" You exclaimed, carding your gloved hand through your hair.
"No uhh, but I saw your face on a bounty poster once and thought you were cute." He said, attitude too blasé. "That was a nice shot though, I was going to wait a few more seconds."
"So you saw my picture, and started following me around to antagonise me?"
"Nah, I just happened to be super lucky to have been put on the same cases as you. Big bad men have a lot of people after them I guess?"
Throwing your equipment back into your bag, you watched the man proceed to roll over onto his back with his arms behind his head to look up at the sky.
The mid-morning sun cast a golden glow over his skin and though you spent most of your life working with guns, his uniform and kit next to him looked a little different, almost attractive. They suited him a little too much and you thought that if a sleek sniper were to be personified, it would look exactly like this leather clad man.
"I should ask for your number, the way you're looking at me right now, Y/N."
"Good luck, you won't get it." You turned to step down the hatch as he propped himself up again to watch you leave.
Choi, San – 15:25 Note to self: he’s kinda hot tho :/
So, we had finally put a name to the face. As your boss handed you a folder, you were slightly taken aback at the small ID picture pinned to the top of the file.
“You might be a little happy about this one.” He said, taking a sip of coffee. “He’s been recently recruited by ATEEZ as their sniper. Quite a deadly one too. He was scouted shooting pheasants down in the Namhae countryside apparently.”
“Hmm, how much?” You questioned.
“A million dollars.”
“Excuse me? A mill-?” You choked on the air and composed yourself just as quick to nonchalantly lean against the filing cabinet and look out the window, “I don’t know, he didn’t look a million dollars-worth to me.”
“He hasn’t been in the game long, but man has he taken down some big names.”
Though you didn’t necessarily feel too attached to Choi San, you did think that you were going to miss him a little. It was nice having a friend on your level to spar with.
Who were you kidding? You thought he was hot and that it would be a shame to have to shoot him.
But on second thought, you had been itching for the adrenaline in the trigger again, and the million dollars looked a lot sexier to you than some man.
“I’ll take it.”
-
San was all too easy to find. He seemed to enjoy hiding in plain sight since no common person would recognize him in the bustling streets of Gangnam. Nestled in the corner of another rooftop, you zoned in on the recognizable black and white hair sat outside on the terrace of a café.
Once you were ready, you repositioned your finger on the trigger and focused the cross hairs on the familiar head. You were steady until San lifted his head and stared right back at you through the scope, sending you a wink.
“Shit.” You muttered, his actions throwing you off and when you repositioned your aim, he had slipped into the crowd, now lost.
“No, no, no, no, no, Choi San, ugh.” Seeing that he knew what you were up to, you got up to pace around the rooftop. Your mind worked nonstop to find an alternate solution but all you could conclude was to go home, stay low and pick another day to continue.
This man had thrown you into the worst slump of your life, but you were somewhat enjoying the chase and you hated to admit it.
The abrupt sound of a closing of a door behind you had everything clicking into place.
“You pretty motherfucker, had this planned, didn’t you?” You laughed.
Upon hearing the cocking of a gun, you turned to pull out the throwing knife strapped to your thigh and pulled his body in by his collar to reach his throat. And it just turned out that San had the same idea in pushing his handgun up underneath your chin at the same time, faces a little too close.
“I like your beret.” San said candidly, jerking his brow up at the hat on your head.
“Me, too. It’s Marine Serre.”
“Nice choice.”
“I’m going to count down from three and we’re going to drop our weapons, ok? And talk this out like adults because I for one, didn’t wanna kill you.” You bargained.
“Sure.”
“Three, two, one!” The both of you pulled away for a split second in bluff only to reposition your weapons against each other’s throats again.
“I knew it.” San smirked.
“No, for real this time. I mean it.”
“Go ahead, baby.” He smiled as his gaze dropped to your lips.
“Three, two, o-”
San cut you off by leaning into your lips, placing onto them a kiss so intense, almost mirroring the violent nature of the situation. However, what surprised you more was that you let yourself melt back into him. He let his gun clatter to the floor to walk you backwards into the wall behind, hoisting your leg up around his waist.
You broke away from the kiss for air when he smiled, “I mean, it is kinda hot, but I would appreciate it if you could stop holding that knife against my throat right now, Y/N.”
“Ugh, fine.” You muttered as San leaned back in to kiss you whilst roaming his hand around your thigh, ridding you of the rest of your knives and smirking against your lips in satisfaction.
Feeling his bulge grind between your legs, you both only grew more fervent for each other as you kissed.
“Wait, I wanna take you on a date first.” He pulled away to look you in the eye.
“Are you serious right now?”
“Mhmm, to Bar 1117.” He hummed, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
“Isn’t that your company’s place…?”
“Yeah, they’re gonna love you.” He whispered, peppering small kisses down your throat.
“Are you trying to recruit me or fuck me, San?”
"I mean, you can kill me now and leave for that million dollars or you can come with me for a new job and that million dollar dick."
"You're unbelievable."
“I heard you were doing freelance anyway, baby.” He looked into your eyes again, a mischievous glow blooming across his face, “So, will you join me?”
-
disclaimer: San’s pie chart hair is one of my all time faves but I also can’t stop thinking that it looks a little skunk-like. In the cutest way. a/n: I've edited this a lot since I posted it and I think I'm gonna keep it
-
Mafia AU Masterlist
423 notes · View notes
secretbangtnn · 3 years
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Love Lies | kth I
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➤ summary : You never had it easy. From the first day of your life it seemed like fate was a big joke, making every effort to make you feel miserable. Shortly after taking the first step into adulthood, you are convinced that childhood doom follows you like a shadow. On the verge of being broke without any help, you take your friends advice and try your hand in industry you have no idea about.
➤ genre : CEO! au, prostitution but not really au, strangers to enemies to lovers, Smut, fluff, angst
➤ pairing : Taehyung x reader ft. Jimin (This chapter Jimin x reader)
➤ ratings : 18+ NSFW
➤words : 10k
➤ warnings : swearing, prostitution, sex for money, mentions of mental health, toxic household, mentions of violence, explicit sexual content, mxm, fxm, family problems, dishearitance, toxic relationship, Taehyung is bad at feelings, reader is lost, soft boy jimin, sexy hot taehyung (couse that will need a warning) - more to be added
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notes ~
I finally did it! I'm so sorry for the wait and how the chapter came out - it's a little more messy than I predicted but i wanted to give you something before the big story. I promise the next chapter is going to start with the big action and main plot and finally with Taehyung. I really hope for some feedback, I worked hard for it to be done before the next week and even though it may seem boring i really hope it’s okay.
taglist:
@jinssexytoe @danyxthirstae01 @alwaysasadaesthetic @luvmingyu @chimincubus @minshookie29
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Underneath the sunrise
Show me where your love lies
Relationships that are based on lies never last long and everyone who found themselves in artificial feelings, knows of the truth of those words. Although that sweet sinful lie sometimes replaces that thing we could have never got.
You never thought about yourself as someone low, at least not that low to kneel to beg of something so materialistic like money.
You respected yourself at the same time being sure that you would fight everything alone. Just like a good fighter - you didn't need a good sword in a big war. Even once in your whole life you wouldn't have thought of stepping that low to actually work as a cleaner in old school or supermarket lady, that couldn't even use the calculator right.
How ironic, we love when inevitable doom falls on people that did not deserve it.
You were taught from the beginning, how to live, what to do, how to look, and the most important who to listen to. It's so weird when we find a character that's not extremely bad or good, not the shy mouse of the school, also not the hot rebellious cool girl with too big ego, and mouth so unbelievable that you actually start to think if you have ever met someone without such basic manners.
Fact is that you are bland, your life never yours to live, as someone recorded it with a script in their hands, and a plan for an ending and second part. It was frustrating knowing how many people never cared about you, however you could not say that you indeed did too.
Lessons were taught, those made you somehow resistant to disappointments in life. First happening in early stage, not even first year of your high school, people started to know - know about this and that, about family of yours and how privileged they would be if they had you on their side.
But you did not have a problem with it, mindset so set that you liked to think about money as a guarantee of friendship. And with this thought you let the first people use you, not minding their motive of only getting part of your prosperity.
So you believed to those days that your childhood indeed was normal.
You never tried to run from your life, you never saw yourself as a hormonal teenager in need of attention.
In the end only those who were born in respecting families, where work and pride is placed higher than blood ties, knows how upringbing really looks in such a household. Your standart always high, doing that to not need to put it higher again.
Parents instilling you dreams that were not yours, making you believe in something they always wanted. Like it was written, your whole life does not belong to you, and realization over it came in the moment when it was a little too late. Happy smiles never real, friends you swore would not leave you, disappeared within a night.
However let’s not impose that your parents were monsters, killing you on the inside with their cold demeanor or making your life miserable.
The first problem began when you had enough, when a virus in your mind told you about your own desires.
You remember this day like it was yesterday. Invisible mark on your check is still pulsating, with a wound much deeper inside screaming at you that it is still not healed.
“I want to study medicine.” Those were the exact words you first told your mother, freezing her in place and scarring inside with the power and destruction they held. She did not hold back with ignoring you, acting like the sentence was a mere passing wind, just fluffing hair in a not nice type of way. You expected that, nothing new from a shell of a person your mother has become, money and power empowering her mind, probably killing the young woman you are now, in her.
So the first step of actually making a point of how you processed to cut your family ties, were with your mother, kind of preparing you for what has to come.
Dark room, with marble accents and a woody smell that came straight to your nostrils. Mahogany desk, big enough to contain tons of papers scattered over it like some kind of nto important rubbish. You however knew better, and those innocent stock of inked pages held more value than maybe you yourself.
It was so hard to breathe in this tiny space, now feeling ever more closed up, dark and not welcoming. You tried to believe that the reason for it was not really a man sitting just before you, not minding your presence in a slighlets, but a stress and emotions on your back, you were trying to bear by yourself.
“I’m busy.” Short answer, not even directed to you - not that the man ever looked at you with those dark eyes. Predictable, exactly like you guessed. Cold feeling with a hot flush over your cheek, not knowing where the previous patience had gone.
Maybe you finally had enough. You were too tired to try to understand.
“Dad, please listen to me.” Ice cold bucket over your head, a void eyes now on you, not really expecting them to stay on you for so long, or even look up. Pupils a little blow out, stirring the dark color pallet of his eyes, similar to the tone of the bags under them. What a wrack of a man he really was, lanky hands under the suit, scribbling over something not even a minute ago, now lying lifelessly on a brownish desk.
“You really couldn't find better time for your whining? Go on, I still have a lot of work to do before I need to actually go.” Unconcern, you could even feel the unitresment oozing from him, hitting you with those eyes. They were looking at you, but at the same time it felt like they never were there. Black holes, no feelings found, gaze scary for those who never met someone so indifferent.
“I dropped out.”
“What?” Words came after some silence, piercing straight your beating heart. Hands in fist, just beside your thighs, so white that it could even be a little concerning for those looking from the side. You were nervous, even after you told yourself that this conversation was not going to be easy. Smooth information that it should be, your own life choices never discussed so openly.
“I dropped out of college”
Not a breath was heard, a heavy hand landed on the desk with a smack, knocking in the process some of the scattered pens.
“You did what?” Too calm, his voice was too calm for such information. Nerve wracking feeling once again welcomed you inside, making you take one step back. Soft material of the shirt creased under your hard grip. “It’s not the time for such a jokes Y/n”
“I’m not joking dad, I took the papers yesterday. I'm tired of wasting my time on something I never wanted.”
“Oh? But are you really? What are you going to do then? I'm getting really curious” Tone momocking you in every kind of way. You clench your teeth, an annoyed expression came over your face, just to disappear within one glance of the man.
Questions were rhetorical, laughing at your whole being in the cruelest manner. He knew about your every vulnerability, molding your persona from the beginning. So it must have been funny for him, seeing a little girl, someone he treated not entirely equally, however putting some kind of hope and dreams he himself could not reach, standing before him like a scared puppy asking for a treat.
“You yourself know the best how important those studies are for you. You prepared your whole life to go there and take my place one time, so don’t joke about it like it’s some kind of dish you are bored of eating.”
“You forced me to do it! I never wanted to take your place, study the stupid law.”
“And you decided that this is the time to suddenly realize that? Y/n from the beginning, we always gave you what you wanted, fulfilling your every wish, buying everything you wanted, and even after that you can’t be grateful. We only asked you for one thing, one thing Y/n, there is not such a thing like your dreams, there is only our family.” You wanted to laugh, those stupid exucess, only making you annoyed and wroked up. Manipulating you into believing you were selfish, that you are the problem, and you owe them right to living.
“Don’t be ridiculous father, you are not in the place to talk about family or do I need to remind you of Na-”
You heard it before you felt it. Burning feeling right in your left cheek, head on the side from the harash contact it made with the ringed hand. It was not the first time you saw or experienced such an act. Father being the man that loved to lose his temper rather fastly, hiding on the outside behind the calm demeanor and innocent smile.
Blood on your tongue, the metallic taste in your mouth like a forbidden flower you just tasted.
“You really want me to get mad today hm? “ You really wanted to nod, looking straight at him from your hair that fell after the slap. Hand on the cheek, trying to stop the pulsating ache to echo so much, however you know the best that the hot feeling is only building up and it's the only matter of time till the beautiful tones of purple show on your soft skin.
His own hands now begin viped over the handkerchief, a little blood over the white fabric, likely from the little scratches the rings were able to make.
His back to you as he went back behind the dark desk, sitting on his chair like nothing happened. And you knew, secretly that it was the end, that the conversation was done and nothing else could be said.
You closed your eyes, not even noticing you did it, realizing it after the first salty tear fell to your mouth, giving you a taste of sorrow. Head down, not in shame but in anger, with a pulsating cheek not letting you forget about the consequences your every word bears, you turned around going to the door that before somehow gave you so much hope.
“Oh and Y/n, there is no you without this family, but there is family without you. It won’t be the first time when I lose a child.”
Those exact words hunted you till this day. Rather heavy feeling, three years not long enough to make you forget, or let you accept a new life.
Loud noise of passing cars just outside the dirty window with a pounding of heart echoing in your ears. It was one of those bad days - you liked to say, those however started happening a lot of more. Breaking was never something you wanted to do, working so many jobs you could not count on your fingers, living in shitty apartments for no longer than two months just to end up on someone's couch.
That is the life you chose, the life you barely lived, everyday wishing for a miracle.
Harsh paper under your fingers, weighting your hand weirdly down - maybe it was the words that made the letter so heavy, maybe the truth you needed to face. Fact is that you do not know what to do, trying for the last months to make a living for yourself, get better pay and settle down for a longer time.
Words of your father echoing once again, making your eyes squish with the feeling. It was so hard to accept a defeat, something that you worked so hard for and for so long. You could not beg, you could not go on your knees again, and even if it was an option, imagines and memories of life in such a household keep you in the place you are now.
Head resting under your arms, shielding bright rays of sun from your eyes, long locks falling down in waves just over your pale face. You pulled them with a strength you did not know you possessed at the moment, as if it was because of them you needed to deal with all of this.
“Think Y/n, think” Mutters fell from your mouth like a mantra, supposed to make you cheer up a little. Void in your head, not ending emptiness that scares you as much as the strings of unpaid numbers on this goddamn paper.
An late hour struck on the side clock, hanging on one of the grey walls of the run down apartment you lived in. Sight itself is depressing, leaving you in wonder if maybe it is not one of the reasons for your current mood.
Who you wanted to trick.
A little knock once again echoed in the quietness of your home, reminding you of the late hour. Looking from your thick locks of hair, you sighed seeing how little time you actually got to get there. With one move, you left the scrap of paper on the side, and stood up from the ugly green couch, taking in the process bag of the crookedly hanged hook.
Fast footstep as you nearly run over one of the olders ladies living in the same flat, trying to messily wrap an apron over your waist, which is not as easy as it seemed to be earlier. Bluish fabric holding on to you with all the power, hanging a little on the too long strings, that untied themselves with each step.
You tried not to think about all those stares, looking at you as you run past them, not minding where your feets go, or if you accidentally push someone on the side. Let people think what they want, it's not like your opinion matters, and being a disgrace to your whole family disappears.
Familiar neon letters came to your sight forming the greenish title of caffe you soon found yourself in. A little bell rang as the door opened informing everyone about your presence. Calm atmosphere, everyone was busy in their own word, you loved this, a quiet place which you often found yourself admiring.
You wished that working there was not such an obligation, the only thing that let you stay in your current apartament. Rosy cheeks, and cheeky smiles as people got their morning coffee, thanking you quietly for the drink with such a pure impression, that you could not hold back the smile you gave each one of them.
“I’m so sorry for being late, I hope you didn’t need to run too much.” You said between heavy breaths, still trying to catch remaining puffs of air, head tilted to the side, hands on knees as you looked at the little blonde behind the counter.
Said boy only laughed a little, shaking his head from the embarrassment after the statement. Ringed hands cleaning some cups, quiet melody living his plump lips.
“Am I suppose to feel offended? I’m not an old man you know.” He asks, knowing that the answer will never be given. Voice on the lighter side, something you would expect from such a soft looking boy, warm and sweet to listen, and you indeed do, always keeping quiet when the boy talked about his own day to fill the quietness of your workplace.
You knew the boy was one of the things that made you feel normal, with his bright persona and angelic personality, you liked to believe he was one. He did not ask, knowing some things should stay in the dark, and you repaid him the same, being fully aware of the boy's secrets.
“Not at all. Beside we all know that it's not about you, but about who will get in trouble from your whining - and yes, it would be me. “ You say, patting his back on the way to the other side. Confused gaze now on you, as you smirk at the questioning boy waiting for some kind of elaboration, only getting from you another cup to wipe.
“Should i remind you of a certain person, which came to me with a complaint of how his favorite boy was tired - what was his name? Oh yeah Yo-”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
You laughed at the squeaky voice that came in a form of fast spoken answer, a little too fast to understand every word completely. Pretty blush came over his round cheek, soon appearing on tips of his lears, hidden by mop of blonde hair.
Not a piece of judgment in your gaze, but rather sweet caring look over the embarrassed boy next to you, trying so hard not to look bothered by your everyday teasing, that he was slowly getting accustomed to, liking how your voice gets a little lighter, your eyes light up and a pure giggle leaves your mouth.
Yeah he definitely could live with it if it means he can see the sparkle pops out in the dark of your pupils.
Cup in his hands a little heavy with the next thought that came over him. Melody coming with the pleasant wind of the early monday morning, his eyes however discreetly gazing over your figure. He knew when the times were worse, when your collarbones stood out more, welcoming i'm from the collar of an old shirt, you probably needed to wash by hands, and he hated that even if he tried to explain it, not care so much, he simply could not stop the worry seeking of him.
You were a sweetheart, never judging him, understanding his reason even after he told you about the second job he needed to take. You simply smiled, wishing him all good, and getting excited about dreams that were not your own, laughing with him and talking about his future plans as if you had place in them.
Thanks were never enough to pay off all the hardship you helped with. He respected you, admired so many things about you, how you don’t need a reason to give an arm to cry on, always taking a piece of burden on your own shoulders, whispering promises and talking about a better future that comes with hardships.
“Don’t be so embarrassed~ “ You sing to his ear when you pass him, going over to the coffee machine, big bag of beans in your hands. “I dare to say I got a little jealous when I saw him for the first time.”
“Gosh I hate you sometimes.” He whines, throwing his head back, closing his eyes to remain calm. Smile now on your lips, little giggles leaving your busy persona, trying not to be too loud in such an early hour.
An enjoyable silence came over once again, only sounds of working machines and knocks of cups, that were cleaned and wiped, mind automatically getting fuzzy from the fresh brew of coffees and autumn wind. Not a person in a shop, being still a little too early to welcome customers or get a morning drink, subtle music playing a little louder at those times filling little breaks of silence.
So how surprising it was, when those little giggles tickled your own ears suddenly and strong arms, clothed in white shirt, sneaked around your waist, making you lose the focus on filling the cup with beans. Blonde hair over your cheek, stroking the soft skin with a funny feeling, only pushing you to squirt more.
“You know if you liked him so much, you could have just said. I would think of something.” He whispers mockingly, smacking his lips in the end. Shiver comes with his next move, hands on your hips, keeping them from stirring so much, hot and on the smaller side however still noticeably bigger than your own. “Sadly I do not share my clients.”
With those words, he quickly detaches himself, hitting your bum with a cheeky smile that you soon could see right before you as the boy grabs one of the fresh croissants, putting the whole thing into his mouth.
“It must be big for you to say that.” You laugh, looking at the choking boy with the same expression he was giving you not even a minute ago.
“That was totally inappropriate.” Says blonde, chugging a glass of water you gave him out of pity.
“Now, don’t play an innocent Jimin, I see how you look at that one girl that comes here every friday. Didn’t you even memorize her order - gosh i heard you repeating it so many times that I know it myself.”
“Okay, okay maybe you are right, but it doesn’t mean you can judge me.”
“Would I ever?” A dramatic sight from the boy's accusations leaves your lips, you touch your heart looking at him with the most hurt eyes you could manage to do, a little tear spins in your eye. Mouth full of baked goodie, he laughs showing a little of non eaten food, with a proud expression to it. Your own smile now noticeable on face, happy feeling over your whole being, loving how this short amount of time with the bubbly boy let you forget about some problems. You take one of the left rags of the counter and throw it at his face, hoping to get him to work. “Stop eating! We are opening soon and I don't want to listen to how the coffee machines should be ready before the first client, because someone didn’t want to move his ass.”
“Just say you don’t want to deal with that old raisin.”
Nobody did, but Jimin had some superpower you sadly did not possess, and could at least shut the old businessman that somehow always comes first. Coming back to an earlier job, you pour black beans in the measuring cup, trying not to let the weight of the bag swoop you.
Place once again in a nice atmosphere, Jimin singing somewhere in the back, probably preparing syrups and goodies, sorting eveyrything on the displae plate. You two fell in a pleasant rhythm, doing your jobs like robots, knowing where things should go, and how not to disturb each other in the middle of action.
And it was something you really enjoyed, that piece and order, making you feel secure at least in such a place. Like you had power over your own life, your hands did what you wanted, your mind clear with tasks to be done.
Peace.
You both knew that this place was a mere act in the theatre of lies, you played in. Cafe such like that one, a happy place for two broke students, that tried everything in their power to make a living, pursue dreams so far away, still hoping that they are not going to disappear with all the hardships.
You could just drown in this lie of beauty picture you painted yourself, pretending your lifes do not look as bad, and even though you did not know the boy so well, you could tell from his eyes that he indeed is a player in the same game as you.
The truth being you did not know each other, you were not close. You knew about his job, about his own problems - some of them left unsaid, but who could you judge when you acted exactly the same.
Understanding from each other was enough.
However the boy tried to help you, offering sum of money or better paid jobs in times when you were too tired to hide it, those although - he learned after some time, never were an option for you.
And so with the next passing wind, the first client came welcoming you with kind of a grumpy smile, wishing for you to just make him the coffee. It was as always, a busy morning on the first day of the week, that always seems a little more crowded than any other, with business men and middle aged women trying to get over their morning sickness as fast as possible.
You saw the girl you talked about some minutes ago, looking from her covering eyes bangs, squashed from pink beanie on her head, nevertheless still laid perfectly. A little wave, hand hid under the panda mittens she liked to wear every other day the temperature goes down.
You smiled at the interaction, the excited smile on Jimin's face he tried so hard to hide, not doing a good job with his nearly nonexistent eyes that disappeared just because of it. She was pretty, a student in a university you both go to, however you were not sure what exactly she was majoring in.
Her funky style makes you take a shot at something related to fashion, but that might be completely wrong and the girl could just like wearing such bright clothes.
“Love the mittens, they look nearly as cute as you.” You heard, looking back from your busy hands, to gaze at the flustered pair. Adorable giggle soon leaves her mouth, covering lips with the said gloves as her own eyes disappear from weirdly similar eyesmile.
Jimin was a sweetheart, someone who deserved a happy future. And so you did everything to make that happen, wishing him the best and trying to help him even if it means your own happiness goes on a second plan.
“I'm sorry but could I order.” Coming back to your own job, you look up immediately, catching the gaze of one of the clients you did not recognize.
“Oh yes of course, I'm sorry for the wait. What can I get you?”
----
A loud noise of a closing locker echoes in a quiet room in the back of the coffee shops. Night air chilling from the open window you opened some minutes ago, to get rid of a smell so many people.
The calm of the room soothing your buzzing nerves and shaking hands, that always seems to do it after a hard day of work. Your attention now somewhere else as you try to take off the blue apron, laying it somewhere on the lonely bench next to you.
It was a busy day, helping you forget about what waits for you at home, and what person will probably visit you in the meantime. You didn’t like those times, the quiet after such hard working hours, leaving you with anxious thoughts rotating around the same problems you tried so hard to run away from.
So you tried once again, silence your mind with your hands, taking every job you could, now wiping lockers that never needed to be wiped before. The same rug from before in your hands, sliding over an uneven surface.
“Y/n?” You jumped from the sudden voice, swearing that Jimin was in the other room just a second ago. Turning around, you try to look unbothered, clenching the old rug in your hands with such interest. A little noise comes from your mouth, hum to let him know you are aware of his presence.
“Everything alright?” He asks a little unsure of the question, looking at you from the other side of the room, close to the door connected to the main room.
“Yeah, why would there not be?
“You were cleaning the lockers like not even a minute ago.” He says without thinking. Voice somehow suspicious, full of hidden concern as his suspicions from before seem to be true. You were not alright, and Jimin knows exactly what it may be. “If you need hel-”
“I'm alright! I'm really alright there is no need to worry, I'm just stressed because med major is harder than I thought.” The sigh is enough to let you know that he is not buying it.
Hard steps as he comes closer, opening his own locker situated right next to you, eyes glazing back at you from his clothes is started to put back. Tight lipped smiles is the only thing you are capable of answering with, catching his dark stare for a second.
“Im worried, and I know what you want to say, but I can’t help it. You are always the one that takes my burden so why can I not do the same?” He closes the locker with too much strength, making you jump again from the loud noise.
“It’s different.”
“How is it different? You help me with everything, you let me cry, you let me crash at your apartment when my parents try to make a mess again, so what’s the problem with me?! You don’t even want to tell me what's wrong dammit.” His eyes glassy from all the emotions, hands in a fist as if he tried to hold himself back. He turned completely to you, cornering you to the lockers behind, not letting you leave this time.
“Is it because of my work? Are you ashamed to take dirty money from someone who can’t earn normally and needs to sell themself. Is it this?! Tell me Y/n, I’m tired of seeing you in such a state, you are my friend.”
“You know it’s not that.” You tried to argue catching his watery eyes.
“So tell me, tell what is going on.”
Your own mouth in agape, words lost somewhere in the back of your head. So many years going alone, keeping everything to yourself shows itself with such a hestation of saying easy words that could let you breathe easier at night.
But would they really?
Giving someone your own burden was something you were taught as a shame. Problems should stay in family, and even there your father always told you to fight them alone.
“I - “ Eyes hopeful, looking at you with new found desperation. Big and different from the ones he was giving the sweet girl with panda mittens, and that alone made you sick knowing that the sparkle left because of you. “I’m sorry Jimin I just can’t.”
And you broke. With the remaining energy you mustered, you fell onto Jimin, him nearly not catching you on time. First tears fell, with such a power, rolling down your cheeks, wetting the soft fabric of Jimin’s shirt. You did not know why, why now you decided to just let go, sobbing so much, hoping the boy will understand that you only need someone to hold you.
And he did, wrapping his arms so securely around, letting you hide the red face in a crock of his neck. Fresh smell of flowers and perfume he always wore with a noticeable hint of coffee, you probably possesed yourself. Quiet whispers of comfort, tickling your scalp a little, hands patting your hair with care, brushing them with such a delicacy, like he secretly knew how breakable you are now.
“It’s going to be okay.” Void promise, his lips close to you kissing your forehead, with shaky hands trying so hard to gather every tear that fell down. With a little move he sat on a bench, an apron which you earlier left there dropped on the floor, a quiet thud ran in the small room, you on his lap, trying so hard to become smaller nearly molding in the bigger body of Jimin’s.
Sorry’s fly through your mouth, realizing it after Jimin's starts to rock your body. He peels your face from the safe space of his neck, wiping your running tears with both of his thumbs and trying to smile a little.
“I know it’s hard, but sometimes we need to let someone in, let them help put broken pieces together.” Eyes shining in the dim light of the room, your mouth ready to disagree quickly however quieten by his own speech. ”I know what you want to say Y/n” He starts again taking a big breath. “Being helpless doesn’t mean being weak, asking for help is not something to be ashamed of. Being strong however - is letting someone in, taking they hand and standing up with them - you have to have courage to do it, and I know you do to - but whoever put such a toxic mindset in you, keeps you from it and you need to realize that there is no longer people who will judge you for falling down a litte.”
Eyes falling down, sore from all the crying that has no plans to stop. You wipe the snot with your sleeve as well as wet cheeks, laughing a little after it, sniffles in the room as you try to calm yourself a little.
Jimins gaze still at you, now softer still brushing your hair in a calming manner with the second hand drawing circles on the side of your waist. It was shameful, hearing such words, knowing deep down they were true, but too prideful to agree with them.
“Gosh If I knew you cry like that, I would take a bucket with me. I wouldn’t need to pay water bills for like two months with it. “ He laughs as you smack him with your hand. Smile on your face, you tilt your head leaning on his arm with all the weight, a small sigh leaves your mouth. Smell of coffee now is more prominent with his own perfume, which he wears everyday, pushing your mind into own fuzzy feeling. “You know that I will always be there for you, right?”
A silent nod is enough, not too much to say after such an outbreak from your side still buzzing inside you. You know it was true, with how much you both came through together, it would be stupid to leave someone who become somehow a safe heaven.
“What are you going to do now? You won’t take any money, I guess you either are not going to be too willing to crash in my apartment.” Your head immediately shots up, eyes searching those of Jimin. A look of confusion cross your face for a second, with the words repeating in your mind once again. His face however is still serious, not leaving your surprised gaze.
“W-what how do you kno -”
“Your landlord called, I didn’t want to disturb you on your break - by the way I saw you sleeping you are not as sneaky as you think.” He interrupts you in the middle of talking, brushing his hair.
You frown, looking in disbelief at the boy, a little upset from the news. Touching your phone was okay, but taking a call and not saying anything, it just fell wrong.
“So why were you trying so hard to force me to talk?” The questions came a little more aggressive than intended, but who could you blame when your private life was exposed so easily. Truth being that you felt not as angry as embarrassed, never sharing such information before leaving them in the dark.
“I know you would be angry when I tell you about the phone - which I was right about.” He pouts looking somewhere in shame, like a child that was caught with sneaking sweets.
“But it doesn’t matter, what are you going to do without help? It’s not like our boss will gave you a rise from nothing, and do not even think about starting another job - we have studies, it would be plain stupid unless you ask your family for help, you never mentioned them but they would understand right?.”
“They sure would.” You sneer, standing up from the comfort of his lap. Your smile turned down on the mention of those people, it's not like you want to have something going on with them, it would be asking satan for help and that always comes with a price. “Thanks for everything Jimin, but I will be alright.” You add walking back to the hatstand where your hoodie hangs, grabbing it with your free hand, second one carrying the bag. Jimin's eyes follow you, surprised by the sudden movement and innocently big, like he waited for some better explanations - which he won’t get.
“B-but wait! Where are you going, don’t leave me like that!” You heard the shouts, desperate movements in the previous room meaning the boy tried to catch up, however you were long ago outside the cute coffee shop, starting the journey to your quiet apartment. Maybe it was mean, and maybe Jimin was too good to be treated like this, but your own mood was now too fragile to stay in the same room as the insistent boy.
Autumn wind welcoming you once again, cold weather sneaking inside your clothes, the light hoodie not doing any justice with such temperature - still it was the only thing you owned with better quality. Head full of thoughts a little overcrowded with a starting headache, not letting you walk in a peace you somehow needed just now.
Walk to your house - at least the recent one, was not one of the long one, rather passing as a nice stroll. And even though your shifts ended in night hours, the quiet and calm way never made you feel scared of any sudden dangers awaiting you on Seoul's streets. It was a nice neighborhood, one where families that were a little lower than middle class tried to make a living, keeping their kids in a safe environment. Happy smiles and laughs welcoming you sometimes in the morning, kids rushing to their own school, greeting you even after those months you stayed there, only making you nostalgic at the thought of leaving such a safe haven.
So it was more than surprising when a quick footstep rang in your ears, soon nearing you even faster. Your beating heart now rapidly knocks in your chest, as your eyes try to search for the reason for those sounds.
You didn’t need to search for loong, soon hearing the screech of a voice not so far from you. “Y/n! Wait for me!” It was even worse when the little man started to dramatically draw his hands to touch, however your concern only lay in the thought of waking up the whole neighborhood. Eyes slitted, an annoyed expression crossing your face at the sight of the panting boy, soon stopping before you, not without tripping and nearly taking you with him. “You… really want to kill me.”
Heavy breath hitting your face, his voice strained and tired from the miles he needed to run to catch up to you. You however were more than a little shocked - yes Jimin is stubborn, and yes he is the person to run after someone just because the said person lost a penny, but his appearance here was different. It was crossing the invisible line you both draw, accepting each other's bubble of comfort.
So the question still stayed, your face hard with a thundering gaze waiting for the boy to calm a bit.
“Why did you suddenly leave?” Seriousness leaked out from his tone, however the way his eyes scrunched only meant that he indeed felt a little hurt from your previous action. And you don’t even wonder why, knowing how your choices could wound the innocent boy. “Is it about your family? If its a soft topic we can never talk about it ag-”
“You want me to walk away again?” His eyes got bigger at your cold tone, his foot taking a step back. Your family, the topic you did not want to bring up today, explaining the harsh demeanor you suddenly took. Eyes however softened as fast as they met the boy’s hurted ones, a gulp of remorse sliding down your throat. “Look - I appreciate your help but I don’t need a person to be helpless with.” You took a step forward placing your hands on the boy's arm, squeezing it in reassurement. Looking him straight into eyes a sight left your mouth soon forming in a little awkward smile - the only one you could force yourself into. “You helped me enough, there is nothing else you can do, It’s not your battle to fight you have your own problems and asking you to take mine would be cruel.”
And how awful it was to turn back leaving him again, you did just that, giving him the last pat with a smile. His own mouth opening and closing, agape from the schock you probably left him. And you were sure that this time he will let it go, your words full of coldness not leaving room for arguments.
“But what if I do?” His voice stopped you in the middle of the step, freezing your form with a new squeeze in stomach. You did want to hope for nothing, feeling how your eyes got bigger in surprise, being so close to turning back to face the blonde boy. “What if I can do something?”
“Jimin we are over it - I won’t take any of your mo-”
“I didn’t mean that. I’m not that stupid to not understand first hundret times you made it clear.”” You turn at his clear voice, full of seriousness and unsaid promises. New thoughts fell over your messy mind, Jimin’s voice still ringing in your ears as well as the hot gaze he kept on you, fixated on your weirdly sluggish posture. You were more than confused, his help however not new for you, the sudden change of demeanor was like a bucket of cold water maybe pushing you into admitting that the boy indeed had some kind of solution. “Please try to listen to me first and please try to be open minded.” He adds taking a big breath making him close his eyes for a second, only to stare at you even more firmly, nearly hiding his shaky hands. A silent nod from you lighted once again the enduring fire of his eyes.
Now you were even more curious.
“What if I get you a client?” Innocent question, firstly confusing you even more with the weird words, the realization came with your mouth opening a look of disbelief crossing your eyes for a second even if you tried to remind yourself that you situation it's not the one to be judgy.
“You do-”
“Let me finish, please?” And you could not find the power in yourself to not give in. Looking straight into his gaze you closed your mouth, still hanging from the previous schock you experienced. “I was in the same place as you some years ago, a broke student without any help or hope - and I know what you want to say, but it's not as bad as it seems. You don’t even know how much I wish that at that time I had better option, but there was none and probably won’t be if I still want to chase my dreams The job is really not that bad, people don’t know, they do not need to know - even if they wanted the community of them would not allow it cause they want only that - discretion.”
You winced, the cold brushing your cheeks even more from the chill night, moon being your only source of light shining at boy’s figure like in some kind of movie. And to be completely honest, you indeed feel like in some kind of drama, emotions oozing from both of you in waves crashing in the middle with a tension to it. You didn’t want to seem rude, your face trying to stay some kind of neutral, however you knew that Jimin saw the first pull you unconsciously did, decided to let it slip instead looking at you with even more solemnity.
Yeah you knew about his past, history he one time told you in the middle of breakdown, then seemingly crazy and full of hardship, now you started to see yourself in the boy, his place now taken by you in the most awful way.
“It’s really not that bad Y/n” He whispers, voice full of softness you were thankful about. You felt breakable, the thought of actually doing it scaring you with how probable it really is. “I’m so sorry I can't do more, but it’s the only way I can help.”
You didn’t even realize when he came so close, touching your arm with his little bigger hands clenching it. Your eyes squeezed as your hands fell to your sides lifelessly, emotions now once again leaving you a little too suddenly, the grip you always had on your life slipping from your grasp with a gasp. It was hard, facing something you worked so long for only to ruin it because of such a thing as money. It was so funny, your own younger self laughing at you probably, telling you how your choices led you to that state.
“It’s really the end huh?” You didn’t need to look to know about the sad gaze he momentarily gave you. Arm sneaking around your shoulders, your posture seemingly smaller than normally, bringing you to the warm body of the blonde boy. Not a word said, only the silence being louder than aggressive shouting.
There was no need for a better explanation, your mind was already processing the idea of selling yourself to someone, and how shocking it could be that it never crossed your mind before. You can’t say the job disgusted you, you can't say it did not leave you with a sour taste on your tongue, like something is wrong with the image of you in such an environment again.
Again.
Well that was something that did not sit right with you, running away your whole life from it, now going back to the cave of a tiger - conscious suicade.
Face plastered on the surface of the brown coat, fluffy fabric brushing your face with every breath he took. The gesture leaves you with a heavy heart, not understanding why Jimin wanted to help you so much. Was it an obligation? Did he feel like he owed you something?
You just couldn't grasp the idea why, why was he so insistent, it’s only you in the end, a friend from the same coffee shop he worked in, someone who is not important in his life, someone who he will leave when the time comes. So why?
And maybe with the next gust of wind, a quiet whisper in your ear you realized deep down, that he was the first person in your life which genuinely cared for you. However the musky scent and heavy thoughts still repeated the same question, but you knew somewhere in your mind that it’s only a matter of time when the quiet suggestion will be proven.
“It’s getting late. You should go home.” A silent nod, your head still leaning on his shoulders, too tired to move. His hands petting your hair, a quiet hum leaving his mouth while he did it, melody not familiar, dancing in the silence of the night. You sighted taking one step back, immediately feeling a cold breeze hitting you, the source of heat now gone, making you shiver in the lighter clothes. Little smile screeching on your lips after you saw his worried gaze, sitting on your figure not planning to move.
“You too.” Sticking your hands into the big pocket of your hoodie, you turned your head in the way he came nodding. None of you moved, gaze met in the middle as you tried to not show how cold you really wera, body shaking in unnatural ways wanting to move for some kind of warm up.
He did not smile, even after your own stretched into a larger one, you decided not to pry and just turn around with a silent wave, head ahead of you eyes looking in the dark depths of the street where you lived. He knew you were not alright, gaze piercing you through every layer you tried to put in a situation like this, a copy mechanism you were not that proud of. And so with the head lowered you took the first step away not minding the still lingering stare on your shoulders.
The main worry now being the cold weather and little clothes that shielded you from it, the idea of the whole conversation put somewhere on the side.
However, he and you were pretty well aware of what is going to happen the next day.
In the end it's you who soon is not even going to possess own body.
----
Sleepless nights were not new, the feeling of tiredness you could not just wipe with the piece of the fabric a familiar one, the eyes trying to stay focused on things even though they were so hard to close themself for some sweet time, just to be forcefully open. Two words were enough for you to not hide the utter ache, you so perfectly masked in the middle of the coldest night.
And so maybe it was the cold keeping you awake in the dark, the blanket not enough to warm up your lifeless limbs, or maybe the lingering touches of the blonde boy that stayed even after so many afters after the whole conversation.
You felt weak, blinking in the grey room watching the wall like it would show something incredible, the scratches on it similar to the one you did when the stress was too much, decorating pieces of your skin like an art. The night was a big blur, hours now looking at the nonexisting stuff passed with a blink of an eye only to put you in another of the memories.
Blonde hair somewhere there scrolled in the side of your mind. Oh yeah, the said boy came the next day, look on his face too hard to forget as the next wall you built was just ruined.
He looked at you from behind his eyelashes with eyes dimmed with a sort of fog. Silence being the only comfort in the moment - early morning helping with it. He knew that this time the situation did not have many options, not any without any loss.
However he came, with a mind to let you help with thinking of any other ideas to help you, the conversation from the other night forgotten after he stepped in the gloomy apartament. And it doesn’t surprise you, the look you probably carried spoke for himself.
In his hands soon layed inconspicuously looking scrap of paper, tempting with his appearance like the most loucioust sin. He read it with squinted eyes, not needing a lot of time to find out what exactly the letter applied to.
What surprised him after such information is, how really the girl hid behind such an innocent facade, the new wave of respect crashed on him with the thought how strong you really are to not ask for help. The human thing was to linger, searching for attention so long to have someone finally do everything for us.
He had money, he had it so much that he could easily help her for next month, but he knew how every proposition like that would end up.
In the end they were really similar.
“Maybe there is another way.” He cut the silence, after a while regretting the action. Eyes met somewhere in the middle and both of their gaze was meaningful enough to answer his void of hope. “Have you tried to talk with the flat owner?”
Grimace on your face once again was enough, you shook your head remembering not the best meeting with the older man. “Many times. The guy is purely business oriented, he doesn’t care about your private life but if you pay everything - which as you can see I have a problem with.”
“I know that it’s a hard topic, but what about your family. There needs to be at least one person.” You looked down, carpet under your feets still fluffy and soft under your feet, the silence embracing you both. Jimin awkwardly scratched his arm, biting his lips in the process, the topic one again making your mood even worse. “Im sorr-”
“There is no need, it doesn’t matter anyway. My family is off limits when it comes to those types of things.” You cut him off, looking from the side at the little embarrassed boy. A sigh leaves your mouth as you lean on to your old couch, ruffling your hair after. “Jimin there is really no other way. Your option is the only thing I can do, even if the idea scares me.”
He looked at you with a small smile, the memories from his past coming back to him, when it was him who was sitting at your place, maybe with a different situation, but the fear in the eyes remained the same. He sat next to you, hand catching yours latching fingers with yours, as if that small gesture was supposed to pass everything.
And maybe it was like that, however how sweet and calming the motion wouldn’t be, nothing has been solved, and your decision it's going to change your life completely.
“You start to accept it with time.” He whispers tightening the grip on your head, the sentence seemingly had a bit more to the story. You guessed he tried not only to convince you both himself too.
Idea still fresh in your mind, hard to process it actually is going to happen, eyes meeting once again with the dark ones of the boy, millions of heistations flowing in the circle of your pupils.
“What If I don’t want to accept it? Jimin, I'm going to sell myself like some kind of animal.” You started, soon seeing how every word pierced the boy, a hurt crossing his face for a while. However he himself knew how his job was not something to brag about, something that should be kept to yourself.
“First - you are not going to be a prostitute, it’s their job. Second - you are not selling yourself, your body maybe, your time - yes. This whole messed up business, which no one truly understands, it's not only based on pleasure and successful bargain. The people you are going to provide services will require more, however you too will be able to demand - and that’s the difference.” He instinctively stood up, turning his back to you to hide his face for you.
You decided not to question that, the topic probably being equally hard for him. Following his figure, you listened to every word which could calm your buzzing nerves.
“Mone-” You started trying to guess about the demand he was talking about. The cash suggests itself in your mind. The boy quickly turned back, dark eyes catching your breath in the middle.
“Respect.” He finished, taking an earlier abandoned cup of tea to his hand. You were confused, your gaze spoke for himself, the utter questions building with every quiet minute he left you with. “Do you know why so few people are able to survive in such a business, or why so few people know about it?” He asked knowing fully he won't get any answer from you. He sighted brushing his blonde hair back, a little oliy from the last day of work, he came to the other side of the room sitting on one of the smaller tables just before you.
“You will need to play a role, you will become an actress in real life without the power to question your own character. People that are directors in fact are going to be your clients, giving you the script you will need to act on. In the beginning it’s going to be hard, but with time you will understand that you can either love it or you are someone who is not suitable for such a job.”
So many questions, which only bundled up with the said words. A weird twinge in your heart, forcing you to stop thinking about it like a sweet temptation, however the beautiful words he wrapped everything with stronger. The idea seems so easy, so free and so good, too good to be true.
You looked at him, the tiredness hitting you suddenly but so many not arranged issues kept you on your toes, so with the remaining power you sighed rubbing your eyes. You decided, your last way out.
“How i'm even going to start?” The question filled him with a relife, not understanding exactly why, the thought of having someone close in the same job loaded him with unanswered happiness. He gazed back, the look making you sit more comfortable forcing your attention directly at him.
“The clients are mostly the people you least expect to. Although they are not people which can afford a whore - lame millionaires or self-proclaimed gangsters. Don’t get me wrong but if they were them they could have just bought the random first person that is willing to do everything they want, for them however the most important is discretion and loyalty.” He started, stopping for a while to take out his phone and quickly search something on it.
With one move he showed you a picture of a man, you strangely knew. Black hair, similar to the blackness of the sky so different from the boy sitting just before you and a beautiful porcelain looking skin. He looked proud, even as a imagine the frozen photo oozing of confidence and power.
You knew those people pretty well, a little too well. Too proud for their own good and too proud to admit their wrongs, making money in such a way to not get attention if they are dirty or not. Familiar contempt towards others. You tried so hard to run away just from people like that, you hoped the clients Jimin was talking about are just the little CEO’s, not that important or dangerous.
And how ironic it was that you yourself are going to willingly put yourself in such a toxic environment again, people that are more influential than politicians and authorities. Next question popping on the side, how the blonde boy survived there without any knowledge.
“I see you can guess about who i’m talking about, and It’s not your first contact with them, right?” He started, brushing his hair once again, a habit you noticed. He needed to admit that your expression put him in uneasiness, look on your face nearly scared like a child that watched horror for the first time. He didn’t want to annoy the topic, leaving it in the air with the restless tension, instead he closed his phone hiding it back into his pocket.
His eyes still on you, your mind somewhere else as the quietness of the room started to spin around. The unanswered question lingered on your tongue, kept in the end of your mouth like some kind of secret. And as you thought it’s the end, the little ping came from the pocket he put his phone into.
“Well, I don’t know If you are interested but there is someone who is willing meet.”
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tricksters-captain · 4 years
Text
Benny Watts/The Queens Gambit imagines - From Pawn to Pen Part 1
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AN: So I watched the Queens Gambit in one day and I am officially obsessed with it. And how dare it bring back my crush on Thomas Brodie Sangster... Due to this... Have a fanfic...
Overall Summary: You’re a young journalist for Chess Review, with a love for chess and a desire for knowledge. One day at a tournament, you come across the famous Benny Watts...
Pairing(s): Benny Watts x reader
Word Count: 2,504
Warnings: (I know nothing about chess except what the show taught me so bare that in mind), none really
Another state, another tournament. 
Your work had you travel round to even the smallest of Chess Tournaments to try and get the dirt on up and coming chess players or already existing champions. 
You inhaled the familiar smell of a hotel lobby, taking in your surroundings as people bustled about the place. 
It was one of the bigger tournaments fortunately and so you were hoping to run into some champions which tend to give you better pages which equals better pay. 
You walked up to the front desk, your eyes scanning the small tables as far as the eye could see where chess boards were being studied in case you recognised any chess players. 
You did but they were all the standard normies that showed their faces at these events. No one noteworthy yet. 
“Can I help you?” The slim man behind the desk with slicked back red hair flashed you a toothy smile as he greeted you. 
“(Y/n)(Y/l/n).” You introduced yourself and the man soon flicked through his booking sheets to find your reservation. 
“Room 209. If you just head down this hall to the elevators, it’s on the second floor.” The man pointed towards the elevators where you managed to spot the flash of bright auburn hair entering one of them. 
Beth Harmon. 
You smiled with relief as you started to sew the piece in your head already. 
“Thank you.” You took the key and made your way down to elevators. 
As the elevator door dinged open, some commotion by the entrance of the lobby caught your attention. 
The peak of leather through the crowd told you who it was. 
Benny Watts. 
Even better. You now had two top chess players you could focus on. 
You decided to let the celebrity champion settle into his hotel before you mobbed him as a journalist and you also needed to freshen up after travelling. 
You travelled so much that you barely bothered with your apartment. It was mostly rented out to other people besides holidays like Christmas where you actually could return home. 
Everything you had was basically in two large suitcases which you dragged across the United States and Europe following chess players around. 
You mainly liked travelling around Europe. You previously worked for a Parisian chess magazine but this year you took an offer to work for Chess Review which brought you back to the states. 
You had mostly done smaller tournaments all year round so hadn’t had the pleasure in meeting Benny Watts or Beth Harmon yet. 
Benny Watts had been one of the biggest names in chess for years now and Beth Harmon was a rapid rising star. 
You knew this would be your big break in Chess Review to stop being handed the small tournaments and to document the important ones like the US Open. 
You opened the door to your hotel room and smiled when you saw how nice it actually was. 
You had stayed in some crap holes recently. 
You dumped your suitcases to one side and immediately turned on the shower so you could relax your cramped muscles and feel a bit cleaner.
You undressed and let the hot water cascade down your back, covering your hair and face as you tipped your head backwards. 
You took your time in there before getting out and blow drying your hair. 
By the time you had washed, done your hair and make up again; it was time to pick a dress for the evening so you could go get something to eat. 
You went for your favourite navy blue skirt and cream sweater, both hugged you nicely but were still modest, before slipping on some shoes. 
You took a small purse to put your room key in and then left for the restaurant/bar that was in the hotel.
The restaurant was filled with chess players and spectators all buzzing with excitement about this weekend. 
You managed to find a small table away from the majority of the hustle and tucked yourself away with your notepad. 
You liked being a fly on the wall most of the time. You enjoyed observing, studying and learning about people. ‘People watching’ as some would call it. 
The waiter brought over the cocktail you had ordered along with some grapes, cheese and crackers to munch on. 
After writing some of the thoughts down that came to you in the shower, you looked up to see who was around you. 
There was no sign of Beth Harmon which wasn’t unusual as she was known for practising in her room before tournaments. 
You scanned the groups before your eyes stopped on him. Benny Watts. 
His slick blonde hair fell slightly by his eye, his hat on his lap as he talked to the surrounding fans and admirers. 
The man loved talking about himself and loved talking about Chess even more. 
You watched him for a moment, the way his eyes were alight as he laughed amongst his peers. 
Benny must've felt someone was watching him because a second later, his eyes met yours for a brief moment. 
You looked down and pretended to write something down as Benny turned his chin this time to look at you again. 
You were used to being invisible and in that moment you felt extremely seen. 
However, the man didn’t move from his chair or even look another time after that. 
You popped a grape in your mouth before taking a large sip of your drink. You’d have to talk to him tomorrow and you knew that but for the first time, you actually felt the bubbles of nerves rise in stomach.
“May I buy you a drink?” A voice brought you from your thoughts and you looked up to see Henry Cavilla, one of the regular American chess players whom you believed you’d seen only two months before in Denver. 
“I’m fine, thank you.” You declined politely but the man sat down anyway, joining you at your table. 
“I insist.” Henry’s smile spread widely on his lips as he waved a waiter over. “I saw you in Denver. You’re a journalist, am I right?” 
“Yes. For Chess Review.” You had to hide your irritation at his boldness.
“How long you been doing that?” The man asked, 
“Well I’ve been a journalist for three years, but I’ve only been at Chess Review for 6 months.” You admitted honestly as the man ordered two drinks for the table. 
“What’s a beautiful girl like you doing reporting on chess? Thought you’d be more into what Beth Harmon was wearing than her Sicilian defence.” 
“I could ask you a similar thing? What’s a mediocre, chino wearing, middle aged   misogynist doing at a chess tournament where Beth Harmon and Benny Watts are playing?” You couldn’t help but let the words slip out of your mouth, slapping the man right round the face. 
You watched the man’s smile drop following a small burst of laughter echoing through the restaurant. 
Your head snapped round to see it was Benny Watts laughing, staring directly at your table. He must’ve heard what you said despite the rest of the restaurant noise. 
“Listen here, sweetheart, you’re just a skirt hired to keep your boss man happy and to fuck the chess players into a one page interview so you can get your paycheck to fund your morning after pill from planned parenthood and buy yourself some clean panties you’d sooner have off anyways.” You hit a nerve with what you said and he seemed to hit one right back.   
You threw the two new drinks in the mans face, causing most of the restaurant to stop and stare at the commotion as he jumped to his feet to retaliate. 
You snatched your notebook and fled the scene before anything worse could happen or you get thrown out of the tournament all together. 
You fell back onto your bed, kicking your shoes off as you did. 
It wasn’t unusual for men to be putting you down, especially in the chess world and the journalist world but tonight you just weren't having any of it. 
You groaned as you pushed your hair out of your face, replaying the event in your head. The way everyone stared after you threw the drinks in his face. 
You did not need to be the centre of attention this weekend. 
You put yourself to bed with the television playing so you could stop scolding yourself in your head and distract yourself to finally get some sleep. 
The next morning you woke up early, getting ready quickly and making sure you had everything you needed for a full day of reporting. 
You skipped breakfast, only taking a black coffee before you entered the battle field.
The chess boards were still being set up and from across the room you spotted the familiar hair colour that belonged to Beth Harmon. 
“Beth? Beth Harmon?” You crossed the room to greet her. “I’m (Y/n)(Y/l/n) from Chess Review. I was wondering if I could get an opening statement before the tournament goes ahead this weekend?” You asked politely, trying your best not to attack her verbally this early in the morning, 
“Uh, of course. I’m feeling very confident this weekend that I’ll quickly rise to the top, concluding the tournament opposite Benny Watts.” Beth admitted, 
“Are you scared of Benny Watts?” You asked, 
“Scared? No. I am merely curious to see how our game goes.” Beth admits. 
“Well, good luck, Beth. I hope to catch up with you sometime this weekend for a brief interview of how you play your games if you don’t mind?” You asked politely, silently begging she’d say yes. 
“I’ll speak with you tomorrow night. It’ll be the middle of the tournament so there’ll be plenty to talk about.” Beth was extremely nice in offering her time and you took it gratefully. 
You left the girl to her own company and returned to the lobby where you could see a crowd already gathering. 
“Mr Watts.” You spotted the leather jacket and hat as the man entered the breakfast room. 
The man turned when he heard his name being called across the lobby and you quickly jogged to catch up to him. 
“You’re the girl from last night who put Henry Cavilla in his place?” Benny Watts smirked at you as he recalled the previous nights events. 
“Um.” You felt your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I was just wondering if I could get a statement before the tournament began?” 
“You’re a reporter?” Benny cocked his eyebrow at you, his eyes scanning you up and down shamelessly. 
“Yes. For Chess Review.” You informed him. 
“Follow me.” Benny nodded his head sideways towards the table he was heading to and you did as you were told. 
“I was wondering how you were feeling about this weekend and possibly going up against Beth Harmon?” You asked as you sat yourself down opposite the man. 
“I won’t be possibly going up against Beth Harmon. I fully expect to be going up against her. Out of everyone here, she is the only person I see as potential competition.” Benny admitted, picking up his knife and fork as his breakfast was set down on the table. 
“Are you sure there’s no one else? Harry Beltik went into his tournament in Kentucky assuming no one but Cullen was any competition to him and yet Beth Harmon came along.” You stated, jotting down some notes to avoid watching the man eat. 
“Well then, they’ll just have to surprise me.” His eyes locked onto yours when he spoke. His lip just edging into a smirk. 
“Thank you for your statement.” You felt your stomach flip and you jumped to your feet, gathering your things. 
“Would you not like a full interview or was the three sentence statement enough?” Benny cocked his head round as you began to leave. 
“It was four, actually.” You corrected him, tapping your notepad with your pen. 
The man huffed out a short chuckle. 
“I’d be grateful for an interview later on this weekend, Mr Watts, if you don’t mind?” 
“I’ll find you when I’m ready.” Benny told you and from the look in his eyes, that’s what he really meant. 
The day went by quicker than expected, it was impossible to watch every game of the day so you watched Beth’s and Benny’s and you filled yourself in with the plays of any others that would make good press. 
You loved watching the game being played, you always tried to predict the outcome and 9 times out of 10 you got it correct except with Beth Harmon and Benny Watts.
They surprised you and it was thrilling to watch. You admired Harmon’s intuition and her attacks. Watts had always been an interesting watch all through his career but you’d only seen him play a handful of times in person before today.
In the evening, you received a call from the big bosses asking how everything was going. 
“I have an interview set up with Beth Harmon and Benny Watts.” You told them with confidence. 
“Good girl. Now get those interviews done quickly and send me a draft as soon as you can.” Your boss ordered before ending the call. 
You sighed, running a hand over your tired face. 
You picked up the bottle of wine you had in a metal cooler to see it was empty. Room service had taken so long to bring it up previously, you decided to just slip your slippers on and head down to the bar to get one final glass of wine before bed. 
You were wearing a nightie so you pulled a coat on over the top in case you bumped into anyone.
As you walked down the hall, you could hear the familiar voice of Benny Watts behind you. 
He was spewing some chess facts to whoever he was with as he walked. 
You peaked behind your shoulder to see he was heading to his room which was three doors up from yours. 
He spotted you too. 
You went into the elevator to head down to the bar. 
The bar was still busy despite the time and you had to wait for your wine. 
You took the glass and returned to your room. 
Your eyes couldn’t help but linger on the hotel room of Mr Benny Watts as you thought of tomorrows games. 
“You’re not stalking me, are you?” Benny startled you as he came up from behind. 
“Jesus...” You gasped, spinning round to face him. 
“Trying to get the dirt on who I’m sleeping with?” The man cocked his eyebrow, his hands tucked in his tight jeans. 
“Seems like the other way round since you keep appearing behind me.” You referred to earlier. 
“Maybe you just like being in my way?” You couldn’t deny that Benny Watts, the Benny Watts, was flirting with you right now. 
“Goodnight Mr Watts. Good luck tomorrow.” You gripped your door handle tightly. 
“Please, call me Benny.” 
(NEXT PART HERE)
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pynkhues · 3 years
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Speaking as someone who has recently slipped & fallen into a massive vat of big brother Connor feels and also plans to study childhood development. All I can think of now is that when the golden trio got hurt in their infancy/toddlerhood (scraped knee, fall, etc) he was probably who they wanted for comfort.
😭😭😭
Anon!! I am right there in that vat of feelings with you. I've talked about it on here a few times, but I became my brother's guardian when I was in my early twenties and he was about 14/15, and as a result stories where siblings step up when parents step out really resonate with me. The fact that the show is making that this understated touchstone with Connor and Kendall, Roman and Shiv is just striking such a chord in me as a result. I really love it a lot.
I love, love, love your headcanon that Connor was the one the baby golden trio wanted when they got hurt too, especially since you know they wouldn't have gotten much of anything from Logan or Caroline.
I've been thinking a lot too about Connor's social circle lately, and about how it's this odd sort of thing that he seems to actually be really gregarious between his fast friendship with Maxim Pierce and the way the Conheads have started gravitating towards him, and how it's kind of at odds with this sense of him having had to pay a woman to stay with him? It's really given me this headcanon that Connor's had this sort of awkward socialisation because he went from being the protected and isolated lone heir for Logan until he was 15 when Kendall was born, and then his life sort of shifted to being, at least for a while, about them (arguably still is - gosh, he's the first person to drop everything and come whenever any of them really need him - think him being Shiv's go-to back-up with Marcia in 1.02!)
It makes me feel like he lost this chapter of partying, of spring breaks and holidays at a gilfriend's place, because he always went home. Always needed to get back on weekends for Shiv's first steps or Roman's first words or to help Kendall get his show and tell ready for kindegarten. Had to be there for these tiny little people his brickwall of a dad made with this sharp-edged woman, and it sucked sometimes to go back to college during the week and see his friends with new inside jokes and the girl he was flirting with holding hands with someone else, but he didn't regret it, not when he got hugs from Kendall and special, stamp-decorated letters from Shiv and play-doh-pipe-cleaner-googly-eyed creatures from Roman.
Doesn't even regret it now, when the three of them talk shit about him and are at each other's throats, because he's used to weathering storms with them, and he figures he'll take it, because Kendall still hugs him, and Shiv still calls him, and last time Connor went to Roman's, he found the bright, feathered fishing lure from that trip all those years ago, sitting hidden in a box on his buffet.
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iamdeku · 4 years
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Needy: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
Me? Making a fic title that isn’t based off a song somehow? Seems unlikely. 
Warnings: school stress. makin’ out. not proofread.
For @sems-diarie
You hated your classmate Bakugou Katsuki with a passion. He was arrogant, brash, and extremely loud. He was rude to you and he was rude to everybody else and he was completely convinced he was the greatest thing to ever exist. There was really only one thing you hated more than Bakugou.
Being teamed up with him for your class’s newest group project.
You had pleaded and begged with Aizawa to let you pair up with literally anyone else, but he was unyielding. All of his pairings were final, and you and Bakugou were no exception. You were just going to have to learn how to work with him, your grades be damned, apparently.
“Alright, listen up,” you said, taking your seat next to Bakugou the day after your group pairings had been announced. “You are not going to mess up my grades. If anyone is going to mess up my grades it’s going to be me. I don’t think you’re an idiot. I know you’re an idiot. So just sit down, shut up, and follow my lead.”
You were perhaps slightly harsher than necessary, even for a guy like Bakugou. In your defense though, you’d had a truly garbage day. Your coffee machine had broken, leaving you with no caffeine this morning. It was an expensive coffee machine too, and you weren’t sure when you would be able to buy a new one. You had spent half of your morning looking for the manual to the coffee machine in the hopes that Momo could just create another one for you, and by the time you realized what time it was you had no opportunity to do anything but toss your clothes on before heading to class. On your way to class, it had rained, soaking you through because you had forgotten your umbrella and provoking Mineta to make a comment on the clinginess of your wet uniform. You had gotten a worse grade than you were expecting on your last test, you had tripped and spilled all of your lunch across the floor, and now here you were, having to sit next to your assigned group partner, hair still damp and mood still very, very bad.
“Hey, I don’t know who you think you are extra, but I’m no idiot. If you think we’re not beating everybody else in this class, then you’re wrong. I don’t know what you’ve been told, but Bakugou Katsuki never loses.”
You had known the great Bakugou Katsuki for the last 3 years of yours and his UA career, and now, in your final year, you were pretty confident that you still knew him. You knew him as a guy who had definitely lost before in the past. There was no particular shame in that, but you couldn’t afford to lose this time, especially not on Katsuki’s account.
“You better be right about that, pretty boy, because this grade is important to me. If we get a bad grade on this assignment it’s going to throw off my entire average, which I really can’t afford right now. Speaking of which, we really don’t have the time for all this dilly-dallying. Let’s get to work, king explosion murder,” you mocked.
To your surprise, the ever confident Bakugou turned bright red at the old nickname.
“Whatever. Let’s just get to work. We’re going to have to trade contact information so we can figure out a time to meet up. Plus I don’t trust you not to screw this up without my advice.”
You rolled your eyes. The nerve of this boy. The sheer gall.
“Yeah, okay, whatever.” You reached into your soggy backpack and pulled out a pencil and a piece of paper, scribbling down your phone number.
“We should just be able to meet up in one of the dorm’s common areas. The trick will be finding a time when everyone else isn’t working there.”
You sighed, knowing your classmates wouldn’t make the scheduling of this easy. Even ignoring the fact that you might have to deal with their noise and obnoxious planning, Bakugou’s sleep schedule was another barrier to your project design. He went to bed early enough to severely limit your time for working on the group project. You honestly didn’t know when he found the time for homework. If you didn’t do yours immediately it probably wouldn’t get done until the very last minute.
“We can just study in our rooms. It will be quieter there.” Bakugou shrugged.
You froze at his casual words. Study in your rooms? As in study in his room? Nobody had ever been invited into Bakugou’s room. Not his best friend Kirishima. Not his childhood rival Midoriya. Not even that girl from the gen-ed course he’d dated when you were second years. Nobody.
“Uh…are you sure?”
“Yeah. Why?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “You’re making a weird face, idiot.”
You shook your head. “Nothing. I was just thinking. Yeah, we can just study in our rooms. Just text me before randomly showing up, okay?”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Aizawa was starting up class, causing you both to shut up. You felt a part of you get very excited that you might be about to see Bakugou’s room. There was something sort of forbidden to the feeling, fluttering around in your chest like a stupid flock of butterflies or something. You were sure it was just the appeal of his room, the secrecy of it all. You loved knowing other people’s secrets. That must have been what it was.
As it turned out though, your hopes and dreams were all in vain. Bakugou texted you to ask about studying, not in his room, but your room. You complied of course. As much as you wanted to see the inside of his mysterious room, you respected his privacy. After all, rooms were sacred. Your room was a deeply personal expression of yourself, and you weren’t about to pry into his space. It wouldn’t get you a better grade anyway, seeing as your project wasn’t on the inside of Bakugou’s room.
You had cleaned up your room earlier in preparation for this moment, anticipating that sooner or later Bakugou would want to study in your room even if you had briefly entertained hopes that he would want to study in his. Your normally messy desk was cleared off, your bed was made and your dirty laundry was all in the basket where it belonged. If you hadn’t cleaned the room yourself you would probably think that you didn’t live here.
Bakugou walked into the room with all the posturing of royalty, shoulders thrown back confidently as he eyed your room. He sniffed, passing whatever final judgement he would, and proceeded to sit down at your desk.
“Nice room, nerd. Cleaner than I thought it would be.”
You grew uncomfortably warm at the truth of his accusation, feeling specifically called out. Could he possibly have heard you vacuuming earlier? It didn’t matter. You didn’t care about his opinion.
“Yeah, whatever. Let’s just get to work, shall we?”
You pulled out your notebook, taking a seat on the floor and gesturing for him to join you.
“Why are you sitting on the floor, idiot?”
“I don’t have two chairs for both of us to work at the desk, so therefore the floor is our next best option.”
“No it isn’t.” Bakugou rolled his eyes. “You have a bed, don’t you? We can just sit on your bed and that way you don’t have to break you tailbone on the floor. Unless you like sitting on the hard floor.”
You gritted your teeth, glaring up at the challenge.
You pushed off from your hand, standing so you could loom over where he sat at your desk. “Fine. Bed it is then.”
You took a seat on your bed as he stood up from your desk chair he had invited himself to sit in. You waited for him to take his spot next to you on the bed, but he hesitated. For a guy who had suggested this idea, he didn’t seem to like it very much. Your surprise wore off though when you realized that he was being…awkward. Bakugou Katsuki was being awkward.
Was it you? Had you done something to make him uncomfortable? Or had he just been shy this whole time?
You could have laughed at him, but instead you took pity. You remembered your first year, when you had been painfully awkward. Maybe Bakugou had always been like that and you had just never had occasion to notice until now.
“Go ahead,” you said, patting the bed next to you. “Take a seat. I don’t bite, and even if I did you would like it.”
You laughed a little bit at your own joke, even if Bakugou didn’t seem to think it was very funny. You did succeed in getting him to sit on the bed though, so some small victories were won. He was stiff and sat much farther away from you than necessary, but he sat nonetheless.
After hours of working together, you managed to have a rough outline for the project. It was sort of a tricky project, based around gathering knowledge and making a presentation on the hero you thought to be the best. Bakugou had insisted with surprising vehemence on making it on All Might, and you agreed with him. After all, he was the symbol of peace and had been the #1 hero for decades. Even though this was a move you would have predicted more from Midoriya, you figured if you were going to do this project you might as well do it right.
Bakugou got up to head to bed, but you stopped him before he could leave. “Hey…I didn’t know you were so into All Might.”
Bakugou blushed, nervously scratching the back of his head.
“I mean, we all love All Might, don’t we?”
“I mean, I know I do.” You laughed a little to set him at ease before revealing a little bit of yourself. “When I was a kid All Might was always my favorite hero because of his smile. I always thought that if someone were ever to come save me, I would want them to smile at me like that.”
Bakugou was silent for a moment, thinking about your words.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I was always so impressed by his strength, and the way people loved him. I always wanted to be loved like that. I wanted to make people believe that I could help them. That they could trust me.”
There was a deep sense of vulnerability to his words that made you want to know more and made you want to understand this boy you had clearly underestimated.
“Is that why you became a hero?”
He huffed, retreating back into himself.  “I became a hero to prove I was better than everybody.”
In a way, it was a yes.
“Have a goodnight, Bakugou.”
He stopped in your doorway, looking back at you with a hint of that vulnerability from earlier.
“Goodnight.”
You had been working nonstop for the past 4 days. You had your schedule set up to an unreasonable level of strictness. You would work for an hour, watch a 10 minute motivational video, then work for an hour again. The only real breaks you took were to eat and sleep, and it was starting to wear on you. You just had so much work to do, and you needed to be free this weekend for the sleepover Mina was having, but you were exhausted.
You had finally reached a breaking point tonight, and you found yourself sitting in your bed crying. You weren’t pretty crying either. It was an ugly, exhausted cry, yanked out of you by the hours of work and stress. You had fallen onto your side, curled up in bed as the sounds choked out of you, ugly things breaking you open and cracking your chest and your voice.
Because of all the stress you had been under, you had completely forgotten about your group project. You had met up with Bakugou the first couple of days, but yesterday you had begged off and reschedule for…today. Right now.
You didn’t even hear Bakugou’s polite knock on your door, the same three knock rap he had given the last few days before coming in to work on your project with you for an hour. If he thought you were ignoring him or just not there, it didn’t stop him from coming in. You didn’t notice, completely oblivious to his presence until he spoke.
“Are you hurt?”
He rushed over to your side, rolling over your body to inspect you. His hands were surprisingly gentle as they skimmed over your body, checking for injuries, gently pressing into the divots of old scars. He found no hurt on you though, and pulled back, frowning.
“What’s the matter? Why are you crying?”
You sniffled loudly, shamefully wiping your arm across your face.
“I’m fine,” you reassured him, repeating it for your own benefit. “I’m fine, I’m totally fine. Everything is fine.”
“You sound like stupid Deku. Every time he’s ever told me he was fine he was lying.”
You choked out a giggle against your will. “Yeah, he does that doesn’t he?”
“Yeah, he does. But unlike Deku you’re not stupid. You want to explain this little episode to me?”
“I’m just…stressed.” You sighed, explaining your situation to him.
He sat back, stunned. “Well no wonder you finally broke. Nobody can work like that. You have to have fun, you idiot!”
For such a nice sentiment, he said it awfully aggressively. He almost made you burst into tears again, but he seemed to realize his mistake, quickly softening his voice again as he floundered for something to say.
“I…you…I’ve never seen you cry before,” he said.
“Yeah, well, I do it. This may come as a surprise but I’m human too, y’know.”
His hands still rested on your thighs, and you looked up at him hesitantly, breath catching in your throat. You had, of course, noticed that he was pretty before. Sharp cheek bones, harsh blond hair, bright red eyes that dug into your soul. Somehow though, he had gotten prettier over the past couple of days as you had gotten to know him, gotten to understand him better.
Before, you had thought he was arrogant. From your conversations though, you knew better. He just cared about people too much. Cared about their opinions too much, feared rejection. You offered up a little piece of yourself in exchange for everything he had admitted to you.
“Remember what I told you about All Might being my favorite hero? I thought to be a good hero you had to always be smiling. You could never show weakness. Not anger or sadness or anything else. That’s why you’ve never seen me cry before. Why I’m always so happy go lucky. Because I have to be.”
There was a pause while Bakugou processed that information.
“That’s…stupid,” he decided. “You shouldn’t hold back on your emotions like that. You deserve to feel things. You can’t dedicate your life to other people like that.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m starting to figure that out.” You stared down at your bedspread.
You were shocked when you felt a warm, calloused hand brush your cheek. Bakugou hesitantly, tenderly wiped the last of your tears away, and you felt something in your heart flutter. You had known Bakugou Katsuki a long time, but you had never known him like this. Looking up into his eyes did nothing to dispel your butterflies when you saw how soft his gaze was. Something in you ached to be looked at like that, to be held in someone’s hands as carefully as he was holding you now.
“Can I…can I kiss you?”
You weren’t sure where the question had come from, and yet you were, because some time along the way of getting to know him you had realized something. Everything you had thought there was to hate about Bakugou was really something to love. Over the course of this project, you had done something extraordinarily stupid. You had developed feelings for a boy who would never like you back. Which was why his next words stole your breath entirely.
“Please,” Bakugou said, his words a sticky sweet, fervent plea.
You blinked, daring to look at him again only to find him wide open to you. He was leaning forward, a look in his eyes you could scarcely describe, a feverish desire overcoming him. His hand on your face twitched ever so slightly in anticipation as you leaned forward.
When your lips met his, you were surprised by the easiness of it. You fell forward into him, arms draped around his broad shoulders as he pulled you in, large hand wrapping around your waist, firm and capable. He tasted like burnt sugar, impossibly so, and it made your head spin, made you dizzy with the sensation. It made you hungry for him.
When he licked your lower lip, you let him swallow you down, hands blazing a fiery trail across your waist to your back, making the trip over and over and burning into you with their warmth. You tugged on his hair lightly, eliciting a moan from him that shot straight through your chest. You gasped into his open mouth, your clumsy kiss flipping when he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Everything became easier when you let him take over, let him pull you into his lap up against the hardness of his body and tilt your head to the side just so, pliable and soft in his arms. Kissing him became easy and natural, shivers running through your body as you surrendered yourself to the experience.
When he finally pulled away, you found yourself licking a mixture of your spit and his off your mouth, not even minding how profoundly gross that was. Normally you would have shuddered, but you were far too busy staring at him, mesmerized and breathless.
“You, uh…that was…that was really nice. And I think you’re pretty.” Bakugou coughed. “Do you want to go out sometime? Because obviously you need somebody to distract you from your homework, stupid. Look what you did. Made a mess of yourself.”
You ducked your head into his shoulder at his words, hiding your face and your embarrassment. “Yeah, sure. That sounds nice.”
He hummed, the sound resonating in his chest and traveling straight to your ear. “Can I…kiss you again then?”
“I thought you would never ask.”
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coeurdastronaute · 4 years
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Nerd 14
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Previously on Nerd
There weren’t many things considered as decorations in the house on the corner of Inglewood Street. The old stone house, with its black shutters and manicured lawn hid behind a stately oak and the polished Porsche in the driveway, glowed as a beacon in the neighborhood, of perfection and wealthy modesty. Inside, it was less populated than one might expect, never fully lived-in, at least not to the casual observer. 
Clarke moved her way down the stairs as she balanced the bag on her shoulder, fully prepared for work and then studying with her girlfriend on a fairly boring Saturday night. For the first time in a long time, she looked at the sparse frames of pictures of her family. 
Unsure of what made her pause, she furrowed, pushing her eyebrows tightly together and leaning into the image of her mother and father on a random date when they were together in college. They were carefree and at some bar trivia night. Abby hugged Jake’s bicep and nearly hid in his shoulder as he leaned forward, other arm lifted to interject an answer. He was smiling wide despite his eagerness, the flash ricocheting off part of his large glasses. His hair was floppy and fully, swept to the side and neatly arranged, while Abby was brimming with life. Clarke loved the candid picture because sometimes she looked at it, and these were two people who had entire lives and experiences and she forgot that. They probably got butterflies like she did when Lexa smiled at her. They probably spent hours excitedly waiting to see the other. 
In that picture, her mother wasn’t the person she was now, though both seemed insanely far away from Clarke. This college-aged person was alive, vibrant, in-love, awake, eager, and not cheating on her husband. The body language alone showed how much she adored him. 
In that picture, her father was the funny, charming man she remembered, not the angry, frustrated man who was skin and bones, who couldn’t eat, who couldn’t swallow, who had difficulties moving most days and remembering his own daughter others. He was alive as well. He was the man everyone wanted to sit beside for some reason, for som inexplicable reason he had this… he had a spark that drew those to him like a moth to a flame, except he was that flame, and he shared his light eagerly with those around him. 
Clarke relaxed her face after a few moments of looking and seeing and trying to find some kind of detail in that picture that would indicate that the couple in it would know what their life would like like two decades later. There wasn’t a single indication, and that terrified her. 
“Did you finish you math?” her mother’s voice called from the hallway, hearing her daughter shift and move to look at the next picture without seeing her first. 
“Yes.” 
The next image was a very tiny Clarke on her father’s shoulders and her mother hugging his waist as they all stood beneath a redwood tree. They had hiking gear, shorts, sunglasses, hats and sunscreen. They were all smiling. They were a family. 
“Did you email me that draft of your personal essay for applications?” 
Clarke gave up perusing, no longer feeling the yearn for that family unit that was far away. She rolled her eyes and stomped her way down the steps to find her mother sorting through envelopes and mail. 
“No.” 
“Why not?” Abby didn’t look up as she flipped.
“Because I’m a junior, and I have five months before applications are due.”
“That’s no excuse not to be prepared. Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time chasing after some gir--”
“Who am I chasing after?” Clarke scoffed, crossing her arms and peering at her mother. “Do you mean helping Lexa on her submission for film school? Do you mean tennis practice? Do you mean working part time? Do you mean having a social life?” 
“Considerate that you can help someone else get into college.” 
“It’s going to take her months to edit, which I can’t-- I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
That did it. Clarke knew it would. Clarke new an overt expression of her own independence would trigger her mother. She knew arguing and not appearing to care about college would give her the satisfaction of a righteous fight. She wanted it. It’d been brewing for about a week and a half, ever since Clarke said she was going prom dress shopping without her. Ever since Clark forgot to tell her about spending the night camping with Lexa and the film crew while the powered through the project. Ever since Clarke didn't’ come home for dinner last Tuesday and then raved about Mrs. Woods’ garlic chicken. Tiny things Clarke did with spite because she didn’t know what else to do, because she couldn’t do anything else. 
Abby’s nostrils flared and Clarke jutted her hip, shrugging to herself as she dug for her phone, ready to go to work and escape the house and the persistent smell of medical equipment and cleaner that haunted her until she was about two blocks from the house. 
“I’ll be home around midnight.” 
“Like hell you will. You’ll be home right after your shift.” 
“No,” Clarke paused as she turned to leave. “I’m going over Lexa’s to study. We’re watching a Cary Grant movie.” 
“You’re under the misconception that you get to make your own schedule and plans without asking permission. But that is not the case, Clarke.” 
“I’ve been doing fine.” 
“You’ve barely been home. Your father is--”
“Right there, in that room, asleep. I know this because I spent the morning with him. We made pancakes and played a game of cribbage. We talked about school and Lexa and I showed him pictures of the past week of my life. And I helped him with his meds because he’s having a bit of a flare. I told him I’d see him in the morning for omelettes because we’ve been watching cooking shows together and he wants to try the french style. I know exactly what is going on with my father.” 
She hadn’t meant to, but her voice began to raise as she spoke. Clarke felt her fist shake. She felt her muscles tighten and her jaw clench. She was okay with being considered lazy and unmotivated, but to be accused of negligence was uncalled for, especially from someone like her mother. 
“Don’t you raise your voice! You are greatly mistaken as to the nature of our relationship. I am your mother, and I am sick of your attitude, and your priorities not being your father and your family or your education.” 
“Lexa has nothing to do with any of that. Are you just mad I’m dating a girl? Or that I don’t care what you think anymore?” 
Slightly taken aback by her daughter, by her words, by her actions, by her entire demeanor over the past few months and frankly just sick of dealing with being the bad guy. 
“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” Abby shook her head. 
“I could say the same thing.” 
The two stared at each other before Clarke shook her head and adjusted her bag. She toyed with her keys in her pockets before checking her phone again. 
“I’m going to be late for work. I’ll be back tonight.” 
“You’re not going anywhere,” Abby insisted again. “You’re grounded indefinitely.” 
“Except I’m not,” Clarke sighed and shook her head. “I’m not because I don’t care anymore. I genuinely don’t.”
“You’re going to. Give me your keys and your phone.” 
“No.” 
“I’m not joking, Clarke. You’re going to need to readjust your priorities and attitude.”
“I think you should take your own advice,” Clarke insisted as she reached the front door. “Or are you too busy fucking Kane to realize that there is no more family here?” 
With a satisfying slam, she yanked the door shut. The anger that was stationed in her shoulders dissipated with the noise and movement. Clarke stood there in the quiet of her perfect neighborhood, the flapping of the flag lazily moving in the spring breeze was all she heard at first. Then the birds came. Then a lawnmower started in the distance. 
Clarke felt lighter than she’d felt in a long time. She also felt emptier than any other time in her life. It was officially the end, and now she had to deal with that because the anger and the hurt and the betrayal was all she’d had in her for what felt like months. It hadn’t made anything better, and it certainly ruined everything, but Clarke took some solace in the fact that now she could try to fill herself up with something else. 
XXXXXXXXXX
The party at Bellamy Blake’s house was in full swing by the time Lexa made her way up the winding driveway and into the belly of the beast. She wasn’t sure how she ended up there exactly, except that her girlfriend texted and said to show up. That seemed to be enough of a reason, though Lexa wasn’t particularly prepared. They’d had plans. Quiet plans. Private plans. Movie plans. 
And now Lexa was going to her girlfriend’s ex’s party. 
She shoved her hands in her pockets as she moved through the crowd, clearly not getting the memo that jeans were not entirely good enough attire, and in fact she seemed to be extremely overdressed. Her eyes bugged slightly as she watched a girl from her physics class walk by in a very tiny, very teeny lime green bikini. Lexa became suddenly aware of the appeal of such things, as if she hadn’t noticed them before, but then MIchelle who sat diagonally in front of her third period looked like that and she gulped. 
The music thumped loudly. The beats were rattling the walls and shaking the windows while the screams and giggles of her classmates sought to shatter glass. It wasn’t like the other parties she’d been to with Clarke. It wasn’t even like thrones Anya dragged her to when she visited. This was a night of debauchery and she hadn’t had time to prepare. 
And as much as she saw everyone else wearing bikinis, she hadn’t thought about Clarke wearing one. She’d seen Clarke’s boobs before. That was nice. But there was something to her girlfriend in a bikini that was… good. Very good, even. 
Lexa pushed her glasses up slightly on her nose and stared. 
“What are you doing here?” Gus asked, approaching quietly. She didn’t move or say anything else, just stared from across the pool, the steam billowing upward to ward the sky while everyone seemed to glow blue and green and red, the lights alternating around them, the flames of the fire pits dancing to keep everyone warm. The warm glow of the lights inside were lost on the white-blue shade to the water. 
“Lexa, focus,” he snapped his fingers in front of her face. “What are you doing here? Your sister would kill me if she knew you were at a Blake party.” 
“How is it different than any other party?” 
“It just is.” 
“Because of the pool? I’ve been to pool parties.” 
It hadn’t been since seventh grade and didn’t look like an episode of a CW show, but still, she’d been to a pool party with many of the same cast of characters that were currently on display. It was before puberty, but still. 
“We need to get you home.” 
“Clarke invited me.” 
“It doesn’t matter. This isn’t your scene.” 
“I can be in any scene. I’ve watched every John Hughes movie.”
“This is more of an episode of Euphoria than an 80s teen flick,” Gus sighed and took another swig from his cup. “And I fully believe you would fit in fine with Molly Ringwald.”
“That’s very kind of you to say,” Lexa nodded. “I’ll be fine.” 
She took her eyes off of her girlfriend long enough to assure her friend that she was perfectly fine now. She was dating the head cheerleader. She’d been to parties and seen--
“Gus-- is that cocaine?” 
“Okay, yeah, we have to get you out of here,” he shook his head and tossed his empty cup into a flowerbed. 
“Is it really?” she asked, craning her neck as he pushed her forward. “I’ve never see that in real life before. People actually do that thing with the credit cards and dollar bills? Astounding. Where does one get cocaine?” 
“You don’t need to know that.” 
“I’m not going to do it. I’m just curious.” 
They only made it a few steps before the ran into a sopping body. A tall, muscular, tan, perfectly chiseled and dripping body. It was the body of an actual god. It was the body of the perfect specimen, with biceps and the long swimmer cuts that pointed firmly toward his… his-ness. 
“Gus, long time, man. How you been?” Bellamy Blake grinned before slipping his cup in his teeth as he hugged the other football player. 
“Not too bad. Heard you’re heading to Oregon in the fall?” 
“Yeah, partial scholarship. We’ll see what happens,” he shrugged. “Staying close?” 
“Yeah, St. Johns, about three hours away.” 
“Full ride?” 
“Yeah. I got offered half to OSU, but would rather not have to pay anything.” 
“No, that’s smart.” 
The whole time they spoke, Lexa watched Clarke’s ex intently. She frowned to herself and wondered how her girlfriend broke up with him. He was effortlessly cool. He was huge. He looked like he knew how to go down on a girl, and Lexa was still apprehensive. She wished she could fast forward in life until she was really good at sex. 
She watched him grin and sip from his red cup, meeting her eyes curiously as Gus explained something about his college recruitment process. 
“I don’t think we’ve ever met before. I’m Bellamy.” 
He held out his hand. And though she didn’t want to do it, she sighed and shook his hand. 
“Sorry, I should have introduced you. This is Lexa.” 
“Lexa… Lexa…” He mulled. 
“Anya Woods’ sister.” 
“Wow, you’re Anya’s little sister?” 
“Yeah.” 
“How is she? I forgot she had a little sister. I remember her little brother died-- oh shit.” 
“Yeah.” 
“We were just heading out,” Gus interrupted. 
“I was actually just going to go talk to Clarke.” 
“Why would you--”
Before anything else could be said, before anything else could transpire between the two of them, before Gus had to interrupt again, Clarke appeared, launching herself into her girlfriend’s arms, wrapping her own around her neck, her body still slightly damp from the pool she must have just climbed out of during the awkward introduction. 
“You’re here. I’m so happy,” Clarke hummed against Lexa’s warm neck. She buried herself there, suffocating herself happily, slightly tipsy. 
“I told you I’d stop by.” 
Clarke kissed her girlfriend’s neck. She leaned most of her body against her there and giggled, oblivious to the eyes, too drunk to care about anything else happening. 
“I am have the worst day. Maybe the worst week. Maybe the worst year ever. No, wait. Definitely the worst year, and today I finally told my mom everything and then left. So Yeah. It’s been terrible. I got drunk.” 
“Not the healthiest coping mechanism.”
“Not a bit,” Clarke grinned, agreeing eagerly and with a wide grin. She leaned forward and kissed her girlfriend despite her words. 
“You can be healthy tomorrow,” Lexa offered. “You okay?” 
“As okay as can be.” 
There was some throat clearing that happened behind them, and Lexa felt a burning in her ears and chest at the display, unaccustomed to it all. 
“So this is your new girlfriend?” Bellamy asked, looking at the pair. 
“Lex, I suppose you’ve met my ex,” Clarke gestured. 
“Kind of.” 
“Is this party a little much?”
“If I remember correctly, this was exactly the kind of thing you liked. We went to many a party in our tenure,” Bellamy shrugged, lazily leaning against a counter. “Things changed since I left, I guess.” 
“I enjoyed not thinking,” Clarke offered. “You were great for that.” 
Gus and Lexa looked between the two and then at each other. She was almost certain she didn’t know what was happening, but that certainly, something was, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. 
“You moved on quick, huh?” 
“Hey, step back,” Gus interrupted as Bellamy took a single step. “This is Anya’s sister.” 
“Woods?” he furrowed. “You’re dating Anya Woods’ kid sister?” 
“Yup,” Clarke nodded. 
“I heard she was--”
“Standing right here,” Gus finished. 
Lexa felt Clarke’s hand move into her own and she smiled despite the fact that she was picking up a drunk girl at her college guy ex’s party. There was a lot in that sentence she wasn’t happy about, now that she thought about it. 
“You ready to get out of here?” Lexa asked innocently, ignoring the rest. 
“I think we still have a few more shots lined up, Clarke,” Bellamy smiled and Lexa understood the need to punch. 
Noticeably torn, she looked at her girlfriend and back at her ex before realizing that she was actually drunk, and that wasn’t good. Lexa smiled softly and rubbed her girlfriend’s back. She kind of imagined how it must have felt to implode and take her mother down with her. Lexa remembered the feeling of telling her father she was gay and sad. Clarke’s implosion didn’t seem as successful as her own, and Lexa was more than happy to try to help in whatever way she could. 
“Can I stay at your place tonight?” 
“Yeah,” Lexa nodded quickly. “I’ll text my mom to let her know.” 
“You’re seriously leaving?” The college football player and terrible ex scoffed. “The night is still young. It’s barely after eleven.” 
“Thanks for getting me drunk, but I should probably go do something better.” 
“Thanks for showing me around,” Lexa offered nodding her head slightly toward the host before he could argue. “Have a good night. I’ll see you on Monday, Gus.”
“Get home safe,” the linebacker warned. 
Slightly dumbfounded, Bellamy Blake stood there, hands on his hips as he watched his ex weave through the crowd of people and disappear. As much s everything stayed the same, he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling of change, and how averse he was to it. 
XXXXXXXXXX
“Here, you can, uh,” Lexa quickly moved through her bedroom, leaving her girlfriend standing by the bed. “I have some old sweats if you want.” 
Already, Clarke began taking off her pants, and Lexa quickly looked in the drawers of her dresser. She felt the tips of her ears burn slightly as she looked over her shoulder, her girlfriend slumping into the bed, pants lost to the floor. 
“I knew I shouldn’t have gone to that party. I knew it,” Clarke sighed, rubbing her face with both hands to ride herself of the spinning. “But I didn’t care. I just wanted to… you know…”
“You had it out with your mom. You just anted to go far away. I get it.” 
“Don’t be nice to me. I knew better than to go, especially to anything involving Bellamy Blake.” 
“Why?” 
“He doesn’t care about any of it. Just has drinks. I should have called you or like done something else.” 
“You’re allowed to want to take a night off from a giant secret after a huge fight. And you don’t need my permission,” Lexa reminded her girlfriend, offering an old shirt. 
“It was stupid.” 
“Do you feel better?” 
Gingerly, Lexa tugged at Clarke’s shirt, pulling it over her head until she flopped back down on the bed, her hair fanning out against the pillow. Agitated at herself, at her clothe, at the unfathomable uncontrollability to the entirety of her life, Clarke growled to herself as she tugged off her bra, tossing it to the side and gracelessly pulling on the shirt Lexa offered. 
“I don’t feel better at all.” 
It was certainly a pout, and Lexa did her best to ignore it. Instead, she slicked off the light beside the bed, and slid between the sheets next to Clarke. Lexa laid there until Clarke turned to face her, until she placed her hand on her neck and cheek. 
“I’m sorry you had to pick me up.” 
“It’s okay,” Lexa whispered. 
“It’s not. I’m not like this… I don’t mean to be… I mean--”
“It’s okay.” 
Clarke leaned forward, shifting beneath the blankets until their knees were touching. She moved to only push the hair from Lexa’s forehead and she paused before kissing her lips. She tasted the warmth of the tequila there and she didn’t care. Lexa signed. 
“Please don’t give up on me anytime soon,” Clarke murmured. Stunned from the kiss, Lexa blinked in the dark and shifted closer. 
“I wouldn’t ever.” 
“I know you wouldn’t. I just had to say it out loud.” 
“Okay.” 
Lexa was certain she was going to get another kiss, but instead, Clarke dug her forehead under her girlfriend’s chin and pressed their bodies together, hugging her tightly and disappearing, being overwhelmed, anchoring herself to a steady force. Lexa rubbed Clarke’s back for a few moments until she fell asleep, and then she allowed herself the option of sleep.
NEXT
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A Slip of the Heart
Okay so this is my first time writing for an OC, but I’m super excited to write this series! It will be a Joffrey x OC, and I have no idea how many parts it will be. The OC was created by @eccentric-stranger, and if you have any further questions about the OC check their page out! Gif and characters are not mine, and I hope you all enjoy!
Description: Saorsie has been traveling for days now, and she wants a change of scenery. Her curiosity leads her to King’s Landing, where she plans to climb to the tallest point in the city. However, a single slip throws her into the world of royalty
Warnings: some cursing, suggestive flirting, otherwise none (if I missed something let me know!)
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Saorsie wasn’t sure what lead her calloused, dirt covered feet to King’s Landing, and yet here she stood at the gates of the biggest city in Westeros. Sure, it wasn’t the rolling green hills that surrounded Highgarden in the reach or the snow dusted paths of Winterfell, but in her gut Saorsie knew that there was a reason for her coming to the city.
Saorsie set up camp outside of the stone walls of King’s Landing. She could already smell the city even from where she sat under a large peach tree, and she hated to imagine what it was going to be like inside. Saorsie pulled a map from her large backpack and studied the many routes she had taken so far. Being a nomad meant a lot of running from place to place, but the travels made it worth the while.
The evening terracotta rays from the sun stretched over the horizon, and they were soon swallowed by the inky periwinkles and blacks of the night. This was Saorsie favorite time to travel. No people, no problems. Well a few people were about, mostly the guards, but Saorsie knew exactly how to deal with them.
There was a stable just outside the gate with a few horses inside. One horse stamped its hooves as Saorsie approached. “Shh, it’s alright. You help me and I’ll help you.” Saorsie unlatched each enclosure one by one, and as the horses dashed out, she too ran in the opposite direction. The horses galloped with great speed, and their neighs alerted the guards, who foolishly left their posts to secure them.
Saorsie sauntered through the front gate with ease, and then she moved into the shadows. As Saorsie made her way further into the twists and turns of the city, something caught her attention. A tower that seemed to touch the heavens themselves was in her line of sight, and the ping of curiosity filled Saorsie’s mind. What better way to stake her own claim on King’s Landing then by climbing up the tallest spire around?
After putting on her boots that silenced her movements, Saorsie slithered through every alley way that wasn’t filled with pickpockets or other terrible creatures. The lights that beamed from each tower window pulled Saorsie in like a moth. After a final turn down a narrow passageway, Saorsie was at the bottom of the tower.
The sand colored stones were stable, and yet a few holes and cracks were all that Saorsie needed to begin her ascent. After pulling her curls back away from her face, Saorsie placed one foot in a large hole between two stones, and her excitement started to bubble in her stomach. With ease Saorsie clung to every crevice and made quick progress up the first section of the tower.
Climbing had always been a part of Saorsie’s life. At the age of six she had already climbed the tallest tree near her families home, but that was all she could remember. Saorsie kept her past in the past, and that was the way she felt that it should be. Saorsie gazed out at the white specks that were spread in the sky, like fireflies on a summer evening. The air was cleaner at this height, Saorsie noticed, and that meant that someone important had to be in this tower.
With a skillful leap and a quick grab of a wooden ledge, Saorsie was almost to the top. This was the most terrifying and yet accelerating part. Saorsie could feel her heart thumping against her rib cage, and her hands guided along the rocks trying to find the spots she needed for support.
Suddenly, a white dove took flight from a spot that Saorsie couldn’t see. She let out a gasp as her hands and feet slipped, sending her tumbling down the side. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, and Saorsie knew what to do. She had witnessed a few acrobats in a traveling show when she was eight, and she took hold of their skills. With a flip in the air, Saorsie was in control again as she clung onto a window sill ledge. The stone that would normally cut into a person’s hand felt like nothing to Saorsie.
As she dangled in the air, Saorsie refused to look below her. After placing her other hand on the ledge, Saorsie heaved herself up through the window as she tumbled into the room. It was lit by several candles, their wax seeping down the sides and falling on oak tables. Ruby and gold colors decorated every corner of the room, a lion and stag graced the tapestry on the far wall. Where have I seen those sigils before, Saorsie wondered.
Someone cleared their throat, and Saorsie’s brown eyes widened. Standing before her was a boy a year or two older than she was, his golden hair framing his face. The sea colored eyes of this figure glared down at Saorsie, and that’s when she noticed that he was wearing only scarlet colored pants.
“What the hell are you doing in here,” the boy snarled.“You’re not supposed to be in this place. Do you have any idea who I am?!”
“Oh, I just came to admire the view is all,” Saorsie replied cooly. She meant the stars and moon outside, but she couldn’t deny the attraction she felt upon seeing the blonde.
Then it hit her. The lions and the stag; it all made sense now. This was where the Lannister and Baratheon families lived, and that means the blonde in front of her had to be none other than Joffrey Baratheon. Saorsie smiled at Joffrey as she stood up and brushed off the front of her pants. “Oh I know exactly who you are, Baratheon, but I don’t have the time to get acquainted.”
Just as Joffrey was calling for the guards, Saorsie launched herself back out the window. She descended down the rough stone quicker than she had on the way up, and as soon as her tan boots hit the ground, she was off and running. Saorsie knew the perfect hiding spot to go to, for she had seen it earlier when she walked through the city streets.
A stack of boxes filled with goods from another town hid Saorsie’s body perfectly, and as her heart slowed to a steady pulse, she slowly drifted off to sleep. Back in the tower, Joffrey was still looking out the window as the guards slammed the door open. “What is it, my king,” the head guard asked.
Joffrey blinked himself out of his daze. “It’s nothing. I just thought I saw something. Now get out of my room.” The guards bowed and left as they were told, and they closed the door behind them. Joffrey wanted to say the truth, but at the same time a strange pull towards the women he saw kept the words from escaping.
“Mark my words,” Joffrey said to himself as he leaned on the window sill, a grin forming on his face. “I will find you, my little climber.”
Tag list: @eccentric-stranger, @i-smoke-chapstick
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cellard0ors · 3 years
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Fic: Movement (2/?)
Still dedicated to the wonderful @peachworthy. you read part one than you know - GMM Rhink AU - College Student Link/Pornstar Rhett AU
“Got it right again, man! You’re going to ace this test!” Rhett crows as he tosses down another notecard and Link pumps his arms in triumph. The two of them are settled in the kitchen, piles of books and notecards spread around as well as few bottles of beers and some bowls of chips.
Link picks up one chip and pops it into his mouth, grinning at his roommate fondly, “Well, couldn’t’ve done it without you, pal. You are, without a doubt, the best study buddy I’ve ever had.”
“Aw shucks, gonna make me blush,” Rhett laughs even though it’s Link who feels his cheeks actually grow warm, his friend’s laughter a common cause of the occurrence.
They’ve been living together for over a month now and it’s been beyond amazing. Link would’ve never guessed a guy like Rhett and a guy like him would work so well together.
It’s like they’re the world’s weirdest, most convoluted puzzle yet all the pieces click together to form a full picture that is nothing short of a masterpiece. True, there’s a lot about Rhett Link doesn’t know yet (and gosh is there a lot he wants to know) but their friendship is running smoothly.
Well, smoothly save for the massive crush Link has on the guy, albeit he’s doing his damned best to squash it. Yes, Rhett’s attractive and yes, he’s the first guy Link’s ever met that he’s felt a real zing for, but the fact of the matter is – Link would much rather have him as a friend and roommate than lose him as a…well, Link’s not sure if he’d lose him, but the mere possibility keeps Link’s lips sealed.
Besides, it’s okay to crush on someone and never act on it. People do it all the time. Not to mention that it’s a bit…odd to crush on someone in Rhett’s line of work. Isn’t it?
Link can’t think of too many people who will admit to crushing on an adult film star. Regular, mainstream film stars, sure – but adult film stars?
Yeah…
Although, to be frank, Link’s sure there are some that do. And, hopefully, some of them are not the creepy internet troll-y kind of people, but genuine salt of the earth folks like himself. Because, okay, he is crushing on one so…
Rhett is toying with the cards, maybe looking for the next question to quiz Link on when he asks idly, “Y’know, Link – I gotta say, I admire your stamina.”
That remarks makes Link choke on the drink he’s just been consuming, a cough clearing it up some as he croaks, “I’m-I’m sorry?”
Rhett hums noncommittally, as if not noticing the gaffe, “You’ve had yet to grill me about my job. Normally, once folks hear about it, that’s all they want to talk about.”
“Oh,” Link breathes out loosely, “Well, ah-? It-? It just…seemed rude to-to ask…”
“Been over a month living with me now. You telling me you ain’t interested?”
“I didn’t say that!” Link quips back much quicker than he would like, but Rhett just gives him the most perfect smile. All sincere and warm beneath his beard and remember, Link, you’re doing you’re best not to crush on him!
Rhett is still toying with the cards, eyelashes downcast, the very visual definition of shy as he murmurs, “Just sayin’…I don’t mind if you wanna ask some stuff.”
Link’s eyebrows rise in such a way as to damn near bump his glasses off, “Y-You sure?”
Rhett draws in a deep inhale and then sits the cards down. He crosses his arms and leans back in his seat, looking quite serious even despite the casual red flannel and jeans, as if this was more of an interview (or perhaps an interrogation?) than anything else, “Shoot.”
The a million and one questions that Link has kept at bay about Rhett’s job and more personal life threaten to cave his skull in as they crash about in his mind. However, he has to go with the obvious, “Know this’ll be predictable, but…why?”
Rhett just bobs his head in an understanding nod even as Link pushes on, “Why and how?”
Rhett sucks on his teeth before picking up his own beer and taking a fortifying sip before continuing, “The two are kinda interconnected to be honest. Had a fallin’ out with my family. Think I mentioned it in passin’ to you once. But, to clarify; they weren’t too happy with my chosen living destination nor with the fact that I’d come to terms with the notion that I’m attracted to both the ladies and the gents.”
Link’s mind immediately (and joyously) clings to ‘the gents’ remark, bookmarking it for future reference, even as Rhett continues his tale, “You grew up where we did. So you get it.”
Link does. And then, to nail the point home, Rhett adds, “Probably get it a lot more than others. If my…instincts are to be believed.”
Shit.
SHIT.
Link’s whole body immediately bursts into flame, the tips of his ears so hot he’s sure they’re glowing bright red.
Rhett knows I’m gay. He knows. I thought having a radar for that kind of thing was bullhonkey, but he knows and oh, lord, oh lord – do I give off some sorta vibe? I know that girl in my screenwriting class, Stevie, she teased me about being an A-Level twink or something, but I didn’t think-!
Rhett’s laughter carves right through Link’s insecurities, “Take a breath, brother! Look like you’re about to pop!”
Link does and Rhett just shakes his head, still grinning, “Point being – I was pretty much a babe in the woods when I came to LA. Not two nickels to my name, so I took whatever gigs I could get. Managed to snag a few commercials and things of that nature, but you know the drill. Jobs are hard to come by. And a guy of my height?”
He blows out a big breath and tosses all of those luxurious curls about with a rueful head shake, “Yeah, most people fingered me for a baller, so – again – jobs were hard to come by. But then, wouldn’t you know it? A friend of a friend of a contact told me about this part they thought I’d be perfect for.”
Another deep barrel chested chuckle emerges as he reminiscences, “Mighta been nice of ‘em to let me know it was actually a part of me they thought would be perfect.”
Do not zero in on his crotch! Do NOT zero in on his crotch! Charles Lincoln Neal the Third DO NOT-!
Link keeps his eyes so steadfastly forward he probably looks like some bug eyed zombie. If Rhett notices, he doesn't comment, “Anyway, when I found out what the role was, I had planned to politely decline but, y’know, the money they offered…”
There’s an easy shrug and this Link can look at. He looks at Rhett, who looks a bit sheepish as he scratches at one side of his beard, “I mean, again, you grew up where I did. So, you know how the whole ‘wait until marriage’ thing was drilled into your head, but I figured it wasn’t like anybody would know. My family’d cut me off, my friends were few and far in between, and the people on set…”
Now he looks a bit happier and Link can’t help but smile along with him, “The people on set were all right. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard the kind of stories people tend to spin – the exploitation, the drug abuse, other questionable stuff…place I was at wasn’t like that. I mean, maybe I just lucked out or something, but it was…”
Another shrug and he goes for his beer again. Link figures this is as good a time as any to get in another question, “So, you did that and then you…? Just kept going?”
Rhett nods as he drinks, the bottle leaving his mouth with an obscene pop that Link is going to do his best to forget all about right now and certainly not recall at any point in the future (and most certainly NOT when he’s jacking off later), “Yeah, I did the one and the director really liked me. He pull me aside and told me about this company he was trying to set up with a couple of buddies of his. They wanted to go in a classier direction – know how funny that sounds, but he was serious.”
“So, what? No, like, blockbuster porno knock offs? Like ‘Sex in The City and ON the City’ or ‘Arma-get-it-on’?”
“Think you stole that last one from an episode of CSI.”
“I did, doesn’t change the question.”
They’re both smiling like a couple of fools, but the mood is good and the atmosphere light as Rhett sighs, “Yeah, nothing like that. I’ve actually worked with a few female directors, shot some things with great budgets, nice lighting, good costumes…”
“Oooo, costumes,” Link teases in the silliest voice and Rhett swats out at him. Link avoids the hit even as Rhett rolls his eyes, “I’m serious, dude. Some of the things that department pumps out looks better than anything you’d see in Hollywood.”
“Hmm, some kinda wood,” Link snickers and this time Rhett’s swat makes impact, brushing Link’s shoulder and Link would be embarrassed by the giggle he lets out, if it weren’t for the way Rhett’s nose is all scrunched up, making him look beyond adorable, “You’re sucha brat!”
Link sticks out his tongue and Rhett just laughs. They turn their attention to the drinks and chips for awhile before Link circles around to another question, “You like it then?”
“It’s a living,” Rhett confirms, not really answering one way or another, “Like I said – make great money, work with some really nice people.”
“Uh,” Link scratches behind one ear, “Hate to ask, but, um…clean people?”
Rhett doesn’t seem offended, “You bet. Have to be. Another reason I’ve done this as long as I have. Money's great, but the safety is even better. I’m currently under contract with that same company I told you about – the one that director brought me under. On top of wanting to,” he air quotes his next words, “be classier’-”
He drops the quotes, “They wanted to provide an excellent work environment. Heck, me and the other actors and actresses probably have a cleaner bill of health than the entire state. Can’t shoot scene one until you’ve got the A-Okay.”
“Huh,” Link absorbs that with some surprise, but then, he supposes it really shouldn’t be. The adult film industry is a big lumbering beast right alongside it’s more recognized counterpart. No reason one shouldn’t be as cautious as the other. If anything, one has more right to be cautious.
Thinking on this, Link suddenly feels an odd pang. It’s a shame in one way that’s one viewed as more reckless than the other, more questionable. But, when viewed through a mostly puritan lens…
Not wanting to get too philosophical, Link switches gears, “You been in a lot of films?”
“My fair share.”
Another dodge, but Link will let him have it. However, he can practically feel devil horns rise as he asks with a naughty gleam to his eye, “Win any awards?”
Rhett’s practically preening, “Several.”
“Really?” Link asks with some surprise, but Rhett suddenly looks quite naughty himself. Naughty and…a bit too hot for Link’s liking as the heat that always seems to surround him when he’s near Rhett rises and woo boy, he’s really failing at this squashing-the-crush thing.
“If you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll show you one of my trophies some time…”
Everything in Link melts into a puddle and he’s not sure what expression he’s wearing, but it’s one that makes Rhett’s whole face light up, “…or maybe, just maybe, I’ll show you a little somethin’ else…”
If it’s possible for a melted puddle to also explode, then Link’s just done it. Rhett bursts into guffaws as he reaches forward and, very smoothly, pushes Link’s jaw up because Link’s jaw? It dropped. He didn’t even feel it drop.
And then, to just add more fuel to the fire, Rhett rubs the pad of his thumb along the bottom of Link’s chin, right below his lip, “Damn, son…you’re just too much for words.”
“I…”
That’s it.
That’s all that Link can offer.
Just one sound, one vowel.
Silent and stunned and Rhett draws back, looking like the cat that ate the canary as he lets him go and rises up from his seat, “Think you need a moment. I’ll be back in a bit.”
And – just like that – Rhett saunters out of the room.
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Call Me
I honestly am not a hundred percent sure where this fic had developed from but I thought it was an interesting plot that could have been manipulated many ways. and of course your girl went put smut mode on this one. 
That being said, the only warnings I have for you is smut, smut, smut, and some more smut. 
Don’t forget to like, repost, comment. You feed back means everything to me and I love seeing what you all like and don't fancy. 
Please enjoy and all my love,
I present to you, Escort Harry.
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You were sitting at your dinette on the balcony of your penthouse, exceptionally frustrated. Sipping on your now cold coffee and pulling a cigarette from the gold case that was housing it. You lit the end with the matching gold lighter, slamming it on the table as you inhaled the nicotine to calm your nerves. You expelled the smoke from your lungs with an exaggerated sigh before picking up your phone to re-evaluate the email you just received.
Ms. Y/L/N,
You are cordially invited to the annual Forbes fundraiser for young entrepreneurs, blah blah blah…
Being that you own your own major company that has been featured in Forbes, blah blah blah.
We are expecting your attendance along with your plus one…
A plus one…
Well you are fucked now, aren’t you? You couldn’t remember the last time you had a ‘plus one’. You, this woman, fiercely independent, who built a company from the ground up on your own, and now you are expected to have a date to a fundraiser that you are being forced to go to.
You did the only thing you could think of at that moment.
You pull up Claudia’s number in your contacts, closing your silk robe over your nightgown while you put the phone to your ear and inhale the last puff from your cigarette before stamping it out in the marble ashtray.
The phone rings as you walk through the French doors from your balcony into your dining room, taking the last sip of your coffee before placing your mug on the dark mahogany dining room table.
“Hello, Y/N. To what do I owe the pleasure on this lovely morning at, fuck me, five forty?”
“Thank fucking god you’re awake!”
“Well, I wasn’t but —”
“Did you get that Forbes email too?” You put your phone on speaker while you pulled the email up for the millionth time that morning.
“I did,” Claudia said around a yawn.
“What is this shit with a fucking plus one? When has that ever been a requirement for these things?!”
You could hear her rustling around her bed, “I’m sure some man put it together and wanted to make sure everyone and the pope saw his new arm candy.”
“It’s ridiculous! Some of us don’t have time to have a ‘plus one’!” You sat on your suede sectional, curling your bare feet under your bum. Your long haired black cat jumped up and cuddled into your lap, both melting into comfort.
“I lay claim to Derek, he already said he would go with me.”
You began to stroke your cat’s ear, “Yeah well, you’re fucking Derek, so…”
“I can’t help that your assistant is young and hot, chickee. And so fucking good in bed…” Claudia began to stretch, letting out a moan.
“Thanks for that. Now what the hell am I supposed to do?”
“Don’t you have any friends? Second cousins?”
You stopped your petting, your fur baby giving out a little mew in protest, “First of all, ew. No family. Second of all, I don’t have time for friends. I have you because we have worked together for years.” You let out a frustrated sigh and went back to petting the angel on your lap. “What the fuck am I going to do, Claud?”
You could hear Claudia clunking around her kitchen, attempting to make her latte, cursing at her espresso maker. “Why not hire someone?”
You stopped your petting again, Lady getting annoyed and deciding to jump off your lap. “What do you mean, hire someone?”
“You know,” Claudia hissed after burning her tongue on her hot beverage, “like one of those sexy male escorts. You pay them and they are a nice piece of jewelry for the night.”
“Where do you come up with this shit?”
“That old bag that is always at these events, donates a shit ton and then falls asleep halfway through dinner? You know the one.”
You hum in understanding because you do know the one. Her overuse of minks and emeralds at every event, her hackneyed Chanel No. 5. Oh, and her dentures fell into her champagne flute last year. Yeah, that one.
“Do you really think that the strapping young hunk with her is actually her significant other?”
“I thought that it could be her grandson, maybe.”
“Oh hell no! She hired the boy! I hope she got her money’s worth, if you know what I’m saying...”
Claudia began to laugh as you started to make gagging noises. You sat there, thinking of any other option and you really couldn’t think of one.
“Let me do my research and I will email you the links. But babe, relax. We will figure something out, yeah? You can take my little brother if you need to.”
“No offense Claud, but I don’t really want to present to an event with a 17 year old and be labeled a pedophile… Thank you for helping me, truly.”
“Any time, sweets. Now go mastuarbate before you get ready for work. Got a big meeting today and need you to be calm and relaxed for it.”
“Jesus, Claud!”
“See you soon!” Claudia blowing you a kiss over the line before she hangs up.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
You walked into your office with your go to Starbucks order in hand. Derek was sitting on the couch that was off to the side of your office, set up as a little meeting area with a set of armchairs and a coffee table in the center. Derek was sipping on his green smoothie and setting up your agenda for the day.
“I don’t know how you drink that shit. You’re basically grazing in the pasture,” as you take another sip of your overpriced corporate beverage.
“It is an energy boosting smoothie, thank you very much. It’s from the local smoothie place around the corner, it’s family owned.”
“Well good for you bud, but for me, it is about convenience and there are at least 50 Starbucks stores from home to here. A beautiful marketing plan if you ask me.” You smiled before taking another sip then placing it in its rightful place on your desk as you sit to turn on your computer and start your day. Derek stands up and places your daily planner in front of you.
“You have that big meeting today with the business partners. Claudia said she will be here in half an hour to help prep. And I have a list of escort services for you.” He had a folder in hand extended towards you.
You peered up at him, “Fucking Claudia.”
He began to smile and give a light chuckle, “Fucking Claudia. She never knows when to keep her mouth shut. There are a few men she had picked out as well, said she ‘knows what you like’. She will email you the links to their profiles.”
And sure enough, you get an email from her with an eggplant emoji as the subject of the email. You quickly exit the email, pulling up the documents you need for the meeting.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After getting home from dealing with arrogant, self centered pricks in meetings all day, you knew you needed to treat yourself to a relaxing bubble bath.
You ignored dinner, going straight to your wine rack and grabbed the first bottle handy. You filled the glass and began sipping at the sweet nectar as you were walking to the master bedroom. You padded your way to the en-suite to begin filling the claw foot bathtub. You added some vanilla rose bath melts and let the aroma fill your lungs before returning back to your bedroom.
You step into your walk-in closest to begin undressing, putting your jewelry in their rightful place and hanging the garments that need to go to the dry cleaners. After stripping, you throw on your silk robe and pull your hair up before walking back to the bathroom. You grab your phone and wine along the way, finding your ‘bubble bath’ playlist, which you connected to the Bluetooth that you had installed in your bathroom.
You put your wine and phone on the shelf next to the tub and hung the silk robe before melting into the warm embrace of the milky water. Lady had hopped up onto the counter to keep you company.
You close your eyes, take a deep breath and lean your head on to the bath pillow before slowly exhaling the air from your lips. You were finally starting to relax when the incessant thought about the fundraiser reared it’s nasty head at the forefront of your mind.
You look to Lady, who is curled up on the sink counter, the sound of Ol’ Blue Eyes lulling her to sleep. You take another deep breath before grabbing your phone and opening up that email.
Reinhardt, Claudia
Subject: 🍆
So, this company seems the most legit and had the best reviews on multiple sites. Overall, had the best looking dudes too. I picked out a few that I thought that you would like, you know, best friends and all. I will only be slightly offended if you don’t pick one of my gentleman callers.
Good luck chickee! xo
You took another sip of wine before opening the links to these ‘gentleman callers’ pages.
Travis; he was cute in a ‘use to be a skater’ kind of way. Had some muscle, a decent smile. Age, 26. Perfect. Height, 5’3”. Well, that won’t work. You close out his link and go to the next one.
Bret; could be a model with the blue eyes, black hair look and a jaw that could cut glass. You sit up slightly, scrolling down further into his profile. Age; 19. Fuck no. You quickly close the link and go to the next one.
You go through a few more and you begin to feel hopeless. They were all good looking but none of them sparked the desire to take them to an event where you will be spending endless hours with them.
You were officially going to give up until you saw that there was only one link left.
Harry; this guy can’t be real. Beautiful green eyes, silky curly hair, a really cute smile with dimples. The perfect amount of muscle. You held your breath as you continued to read his profile.
Age; 24. You could handle that.
Height; 6 foot. Perfect.
Reason why you joined this company; Honestly, I’m getting my masters in business at Columbia University. A scholarship and work study can only pay so much of the tuition. So he is smart and can talk about business if needed.
What can you bring to the table for your date; I’m personable and will make friends with anyone in a room. I’m the perfect date for a work related event because I can talk about anything. If you chose me, I promise, you won’t regret it.
You took the last bit of your wine as your finger hovered over the message icon. “I better not regret this…”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry just got home to his rundown studio apartment from his day working in the college library. He threw his backpack on his mismatching dining set before striding into the kitchen to heat up leftover Chinese. He threw the container into the microwave and began to strip on his way to his bed. He pulled on a pair of old grey sweatpants and went back into the kitchen to retrieve his food and a beer.
He climbed into his bed and turned on the TV, throwing on Family Guy before digging into his food. He got up at one point to get his phone that he left in his jacket, where he couldn’t remember where he threw it.
After finding it, he climbs back into bed and continues to stuff his cheeks with lo mein. He unlocks his phone to see he has some texts, a few emails, a bunch of messages on his Tinder app that he has been ignoring and a new message on his work email. Not the library job, but the job that no one knows about.
He gets emails regularly on his work email. Usually older women who want to make a statement at an event. Like “I’m still young. Look at the young man with me.” He doesn’t mind it because they pay a shit ton for him to just sit there and look pretty, but it gets boring. He would rather work overnight at the library and he is pretty sure it is haunted.
He opens the message and he sees your name. He drops his Chinese container into his lap, cursing at the grease stains that are now on his sweats.
He knows you. He knows you very well. He has written multiple research papers on your work, how you built a company on your own. He’s even rubbed one out to you a few times because your so fucking beautiful and unbelievebly smart.
Harry,
I apologize for how this message reads; I have never done such a thing before.
I have an event for a Forbes fundraiser and we are required to bring a plus one. Unfortunately, I do not have one and need to go to such lengths as to hiring one.
I have read your profile, multiple times if we are being honest, and I feel that you are best suited for the situation.
If you accept my offer, I will pay you handsomely and will schedule you with my tailor to get a suit for the event. Anything involved will be taken care of by me, you will just need to present by my side.
Please let me know if you accept my offer in a timely fashion.
All the best, Y/N Y/L/N
Harry’s mouth was gaping like a fish. You, you, need a date to an event and you asked him. He must be dreaming. He rereads the email a million times and tries to compose himself enough to respond.
Ms. Y/L/N,
It would be an honor to be by your side. Please let me know where I need to be and when and I promise, I will not let you down.
Harry
A few moments after sending the email he got notifications of events being added to his calendar. The first thing was his appointment with your tailor tomorrow morning.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry was standing outside the tailor’s shop, being a few minutes early and the door was locked. He could hear the clicking of heels and heard a familiar voice. You had presented at Colombia for seminars multiple times, considering it was your Alma Mater. He knew that voice because he attended every seminar that you were a speaker at.
You had your phone in one hand with your designer purse in the crook of the arm that was holding your phone. You had a tray with a few coffees in the other hand. He thought you looked powerful and beautiful in your burgundy blazer with a black tank top tucked into your houndstooth black and white trousers. A gold Gucci belt pulling the whole look together.
You smiled at him as you told whomever you were talking to that you had to go and that you will call them back. He about melted into a puddle when he heard you call his name.
He nodded with a smile while you put your phone in your purse and coordinated the drinks so that you were able to extend a hand to shake Harry’s. Your hand was so soft, he never wanted to let go.
“Thank you for being able to do this so quickly. The event is this weekend and I wanted to make sure that your suit was done in time.” You were smiling at him the whole time, like you have been friends for a lifetime.
“It’s no problem at all.” He smiled back as you took in a good look at him, seeming to be pleased with your choice. He unconsciously stood up straighter and clasped his hands behind his back as you turned to press the buzzer of the store front.
The door unlocked and he quickly grabbed the door to allow you to walk in first, as you gave your thanks. You strutted in like you owned the place and Harry could feel his cock twitch in his jeans watching you own the room.
A beautiful person was standing there waiting for you with gorgeous red flowing hair. They looked angelic with their light and soft features.
“Harris darling, this is Harry. You will be working with him on finding the perfect suit and tailoring it like the artist you are.” You sat on the white sofa, handing out coffees to the people around you, including Harry.
“I didn’t know how you liked your coffee, so I got it black but I have cream and sugar if you need it.” You pulled out the little paper bag the cafe had given you with the coffee fixings from your purse.
“Black is perfect, thank you.”
You smiled up at him as you handed him his coffee, he gladly took a seat next to you as Harris handed the two of you their portfolio.
“These are what I have in the shop now and the fabrics in the back are what I have at home, if you would prefer one of those.”
Harry scooted a little closer to get a better look that you quickly took notice of, so you moved so that the portfolio sat on both of your laps while your thighs touched. Harry’s breath hitched when he felt the contact but quickly brushed it off to continue looking at the beautiful suits.
“Is my dress done by chance? I would love to do the final fitting today as well.”
“Of course. I also have a few ideas of suits for you Harry that would go with the dress. Not so matchy-matchy, but to make sure you don’t clash.”
“Let’s try those, hm?” You looked at Harry with a sweet smile. All he could do was gaulp and nod.
You put the portfolio on the table in front of you before taking your blazer off and laying it delicately on the arm of the couch. You stood up and began to wander around, looking at Harris’ fall collection.
“I can’t wait to see these on the models. Absolutely stunning, Harris.”
“Wouldn’t have been able to do it without you, my love.” You smiled as you continued to explore.
Harry couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were so ethereal in your movements, so effortless. You seemed so gentle and he has only been around you for a few moments. He has always known you as a strong willed, fierce, badass woman. But now, he sees you as delicate porcelain. Not in a way that you could easily be broken, he doesn’t think that could ever be the case. But in the way that you need to be taken care of and adored fondly.
Harry was pulled out of his trance when Harris returned with an armful of suits, calling Harry to the dressing room. Harris helped him with trying them on, all of them being breathtaking.
You had gone into your dressing room with Harris’ assistant helping you put on your gown. You were never one for flash at events, so you asked for a simple black gown with some red detailing, red being your power color. You wore red lipstick or a red pair of heels to every event, so people would be expecting it.
You had walked out as did Harry and he was frozen. The black gown had off the shoulder straps and a sweetheart neckline, showing off your silky decolletage. It had a hip-high slit on your left leg showing off the delicious meat of your thigh, your heels making your legs look even longer. It was form fitting around the torso and hips with the fabric draping beautifully around you, cascading softly around your feet. The bottom of the gown and around the bust was detailed with delicate red stitching, creating a floral design.
And you couldn’t take your eyes off Harry. His suit was the same blood red as your stitching. The floral details of his suit were stitched in black and he had a black button up underneath with the top few buttons undone. Harris had already pinned the suit so it fit him perfectly. His thighs looked strong and thick, his shoulders broad. He was exceptionally handsome.
Harris squealed with how amazing you both looked and you matched without it being obnoxious. Harris walked you to the platform so he could do his final fitting on you. You and Harry couldn’t stop looking at each other in the mirror, the eye contact being strong and unwavering. The only thing that pulled you out of your trance was when Harris called your name to tell you he was done with you.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After getting back into your work clothes, you kissed Harris goodbye and Harry shook their hand. You told Harris that Derek will pick up the garments Saturday morning before the event.
Harry held the door open for you and let you walk on to the sidewalk first. You started pulling out your phone to check it, quickly turning off the screen before looking up at Harry.
“Do you need a ride? I walked here from my office but it isn’t far, I can drop you off.” You stood there waiting for a response and he was taking too long for your taste.
“Well come on then, I’ll take you wherever you need to go.” You started walking with a purpose, pulling out your phone again to give Derek a heads up of your plans. Harry quickly jogged to catch up with you.
“Thank you. Um, could you drop me off at campus?” You looked back up and smiled with a nod.
“Of course.”
When you got to the parking garage, you hit your key fob to unlock your car. You had a nice black Audi that you gracefully climbed into. Harry was treating it like a work of fragile art, not wanting to touch anything. You noticed that he was admiring your car, causing you to smile. “Are you a car kind of guy?”
“Um, yeah. I suppose. I know a pretty car when I see one.”
This caused you to giggle. “I may have another event for you then. One of my colleagues has vintage cars that he submits to a car show, he asks me to go every year. Maybe I’ll go if I have you by my side.”
Harry beamed at the idea, “I would like that.”
“It’s in the Hamptons so I would have to steal you for a couple of days. I have a beach house there. That’s if you don’t mind, of course.”
Harry had the opportunity to go to the Hamptons to spend a couple of days with you? How could he say no to that fantasy.
“That sounds great, just tell me when and I’m there.”
You started your drive to Colombia’s campus when you felt the need to talk about the one factor of this you had yet to approach.
“How would you like me to pay you? I can write a check or direct deposit if you would like.” You give a quick glance over to him while at a red light and you see him adjusting in his seat.
“Um, whatever is easier for you.”
“I think it will be more discreet if I direct deposit. I will give you my number and you can text me your bank information. I will be sure to delete it and would never do anything other than deposit money to you.”
He nodded in agreement, not that he was worried that you would take money from him. Not that he had a whole lot of money to his name.
You pulled up next to the campus and asked Harry for his phone to put in your number. “Whenever you get the chance, text me the information.”
“I will, thanks.” He stepped out of the car, slung his backpack over his shoulder and began to walk to campus.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry got home and relaxed for a bit, wrapping his head around the day. He got fitted for a gorgeous designer suit, rode in an Audi, and got invited for a long weekend in the Hamptons, all by the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.
He finally sat up and began to dig through his piles of papers on his counter to find his bank information. He quickly texted it to you, double checking the numbers were typed out correctly. He set the phone down and went to hop into the shower.
When he stepped out with a towel around his waist and another in hand roughly drying his hair, he picked up his phone and saw a notification from his bank.
Direct deposit of $5,000.
He stared at the screen for an undetermined amount of time before going to his contacts and calling you.
“Hello, this is Y/N.”
“That is way too much, you don’t have to do that, please just —”
“Harry, it is my money and I do as I please. You are doing me a huge favor and you will be with me for a full evening. Plus, you have to deal with a bunch of assholes, it’s the least I can do. Now, don’t ever question my decisions again, okay? My assistant will drop off your suit on Saturday morning. Please text me your address so he can do so. Have a good rest of your day.”
The line went dead, Harry was still in shock. He has never seen four digits in his bank account before and it happened in the blink of an eye. He decided to text you his address and asked no more questions.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry was pulling on the perfectly tailored suit jacket and ran his hand through his hair one last time before spritzing on his cologne when there was a knock on his door. He walked over to open it, seeing a man in a black suit that he has never seen before. The man gave Harry a nod and he began to walk to the stairs. Harry quickly grabbed his keys and phone before following the unnamed, eerily quiet man.
When Harry reached outside, there was a black SUV with dark tinted windows. The uncanny man opened the back door, exposing you looking down at your phone. Harry gasped when you looked up at him, lips painted red, flashing him a dazzling smile.
“Well, don’t you look handsome.” You scooted over so Harry could climb in. He honestly couldn’t help himself, but he had to stare at you. You had your legs crossed, left leg over your right, exposing the full skin of both of your legs due to the slit on the left side. His mouth began to water looking at the soft glow of your legs.
“So, I apologize in advance if some wives try to take you home with them tonight. Those old hags probably haven’t been screwed properly in ages since their husbands waste their viagra on some girls who want their money.”
Harry raised his eyebrows at you with a smile growing across his lips, “Why do I feel like you're not kidding?”
“Oh,” you let out a scoffed laugh, “because I’m not.” You look back up from your phone to gaze at Harry, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” You send him a wink, causing him to blush.
He beams back at you, “My hero.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As you enter through the doors of the banquet hall, arm laced through Harry’s, you begin to get the urge for a cigarette.
You see previous partners to your company; ones that moved on to bigger and better things, others who screwed you over and you cut ties with. You see the old men that hit on you and the wives that stare daggers into you. They all told you that you weren’t going to make it and you proved them all wrong. Though some think you did it with a little help from what is between your legs or your harlot red lips.
You really need a cigarette.
You see Claudia standing across the way, holding out two champagne flutes for the both of you. You gently tug Harry with you, taking in how he is observing the room. He has an air of professionalism to him that can only come naturally; he’ll be a great business man.
“Knew you would pick this one! Had to save the best for last.” Claudia handed you both your bubbling spirit and put her hand out for Harry to shake, introducing herself and Derek.
“I need a cigarette and a stronger drink than this to get through the night.” You quickly downed the liquid, placing the glass on a nearby table, excusing yourself to the terrace.
Harry followed you out a few moments later, holding a rocks glass out to you. You smiled up at him reaching for the glass and taking a sip before handing it back to him so you could take a long drag. “Thank you.”
He leaned over the banister of the terrace to look out over the city, taking his own sip where your red lips had left their stain. You found it slightly erotic how he licked his lips after touching your mark, as if he had decided to take his sip at that specific part of the glass on purpose.
“So tell me, shall I be talking you up in there? Should be easy for me.”
You reach for the glass he is rolling between his fingers, taking another sip, “And why is that?”
He took the cigarette from between your fingers, admiring the vibrant stain before placing it between his own lips, slightly squinting his eyes as he took a drag. “I’m quite infatuated with you. I’ve followed your work from the start, wrote some papers on your business plans.”
You raised an eyebrow and watched him, studying his features that softened as the left side of his lip began to upturn, indenting his cheek to an adorable dimple. “To be completely honest? I started to follow you because I was terribly attracted to you. I saw you on the front of a magazine and…” he pursed his lips out with a smirk before he chuckled at himself. He looked up at you with his boyish charm before he stood back up and took his drink from you again.
“Oh, Harry, thought about me when you were lonely?” You gave him a false pout that grew into a smile.
He finished his drink before looking back at you, “Still do.” His smile and eye contact were never wavering as he stamped out your cigarette for you and took your hand to return inside.
Harry guided you to your table, hand on your lower back before pulling out your chair for you. He sat to the left of you next to another gentleman, who you had no idea what his business was. His wife was glaring at you as Harry was talking to the man, though the man was more focused on the cleavage exposed by your dress. Harry reached his hand to you, gripping onto the skin of your exposed thigh.
You could audibly hear the man whimper and his wife scoff as Harry’s thumb began to caress your skin. You could see Claudia’s smile grow as she takes a sip of her drink, watching Harry become possessive of you before her eyes. Derek caught her attention by kissing her cheek as the head speaker began his announcement for awards and donations.
As the night came to an end, you were thankful to have Harry at your side. He was holding his own, taking to other businessmen as if he had been conversing with them his whole life. He was able to talk business plans, discuss what he was currently learning in classes, he even gave a few men advice on future endeavors. To be completely honest, you were aroused by the power Harry held as he was working the room.
Harry had his arm wrapped around your waist as you walked to your awaiting SUV, holding your hand as you climbed in and he followed suit. You let out a content sigh, enjoying the silence in the car.
Harry reached across you, grabbing the back of your knee to pull both legs to rest on his lap. He gently unclasped the buckle of your heel, slowly removing it before placing it on the floor by his feet. He did the same with your other foot and began to rub his thumb up the arches.
You let out a satisfied hum at the pressure soothing your aching feet, resting your head on the window as you watched Harry focused on his work in hand.
“You did amazing tonight, Harry. Thank you.”
He looked up at you with his dimples on display, making the tightness you have felt in your stomach all night constrict even more. He looked proud, as he should.
“It was a lot of fun. Learned a lot.”
You smiled back at him, slowly blinking your eyes closed. “That old colleague I was telling you about with the vintage car show, Jack, he asked if we would like to go. It’s in six weeks if you are interested.”
“I’d love to.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
In the six weeks since the fundraising event, Harry had joined you on multiple smaller level events, including some work dinners and client matters.
His closest had grown exponentially in the six weeks, whether it was a suit for an event that you had purchased for him or he had found something designer he liked and he bought it with the money from his ever growing bank account, thanks to you. He has found pleasure in Gucci, also thanks to you. He has found that the luxuries he now has in his life was all in your taste, subconsciously wanting to please you.
You would comment on his attire he has purchased without your assistance, always beaming when you talk about what line it was from and how well it suited Harry. He loves the feelings he gets when you praise him.
He was packing his bag for the weekend trip to the Hamptons, having just gone shopping for some outfits for the occasion. He had also bought some things to spruce up his studio apartment, making it look more put together and modern rather than a frat boy's bedroom. Your taste even makes its appearance in his decor.
You had knocked on his door, waiting with coffee in hand for the both of you. He opened the door with a wide smile before allowing you to enter the apartment. He had his clothes neatly folded on the bed, waiting to be placed into the leather duffle bag you got him for the occasion, another ‘thank you’ on your part.
You sat on his bed, sipping your coffee while watching him put his toiletries in the matching leather shaving bag, which was also a praise gift. He was dressed in grey sweat shorts and a simple black T-shirt with his short locks held out of his face by a red bandana. He was still barefoot walking around while he was finishing up.
“Do you have the word ‘big’ tattooed on your toe?” Your ever present smile grew as you leaned closer to get a look.
Harry chuckled, scratching his jaw “I may have been drunk and did it myself.”
You shook your head with a giggle of your own before taking another sip of your coffee, leaning back in Harry’s bed.
Harry was trying to will away the semi he was sporting. He had never seen you in lounge clothes and the black leggings you were wearing were doing crazy things to Harry’s body. You were wearing your Columbia Alumni shirt, tied in a knot at the waist to show off the curves of your hips that the leggings were hugging. Your hair was up messily, making Harry want to pull it down from its restraint so that he could muss it up with his own fingers. Your Clubmaster Ray-Bans sat on top of your head and your skin looked fresh and dewy with no makeup on.
Harry took a moment in his kitchen when he was getting his hydro flask to take a breath and squeeze himself through his shorts to take away some of the ache. He’s not sure how he is going to handle a whole weekend if this is what it will be like.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
You stopped at a local gas station before leaving the city. Harry offered to fill your tank while you went into the shop to get some snacks for the trip, getting your essential Swedish Fish and Redbull while Harry asked for gummy bears and orange juice.
Harry was already sitting in the passenger seat when you returned, him now having his Wayfarer Ray-Bans on; he only bought them when you said he would look good in them. He was playing on his phone and perked up when you slid in the drivers side.
You handed him his goodies while you promptly opened your bag of candy to set between your thighs and cracked open your can of liquid energy. You began your hour and a half drive to your beach house in the Hamptons. You had your favorite Spotify playlist playing through your speakers, both of you humming along.
“Want some?” Harry looked up at you confused as to what you were talking about. You smiled as you glanced over before returning your gaze to the road. “Some fishies, help yourself.” You nodded down to the bag between your thighs as you took another sip of your drink.
“Thanks.” Harry reached over, dipping his hand between your thighs that you involuntarily widened when his hand approached. He looked up at your face when he slowly dipped his fingers into the bag to grip a few red fish, reaching for the few that were closest to the apex of your thighs. He could feel your heat at his knuckles as he pulled a few gummies out, sticking his tongue out as the candy approached his lips.
You adjusted in your seat, shocked that you were turned on by a man grabbing and eating a candy. Then again, it was Harry. He has been torturing you with his good looks since you clicked on his link.
The ride was uneventful for the rest of the time, Harry watching as expensive homes, luxurious boutiques and restaurants whiz by as you enter the Hamptons and make your way toward the beach.
You pulled up to your beach house, clicking the garage door button on your phone before parking. You grab your trash and put them in the appropriate receptacles that you keep in your garage. Harry was already grabbing your bags out of the car, allowing you to unlock the door freely. You held it open for Harry, stepping into your small mud room, both kicking off your shoes before walking further into the home.
The first view Harry had was of the beach through the windows that filled the wall of your dining room. He walks past the open concept kitchen to go straight to the windows, watching the waves crash on the shore. You open the french doors that lead to your back porch that has stairs that lead down to the sandy beach. You let some fresh air waft in as you go to the kitchen to take stock of what you need to go shopping for.
Harry was still standing at the window with both your bags in hand before you went over to rub his back and grab your bag.
“Come on, I’ll show you your room.” You guide Harry past your open living room to the stairs, leading him up and to the right. “This will be your room. You’ll have your own bathroom and there should be fresh towels in there for you. I’ll be right down the hall if you need anything. I’m going to hop in the shower.”
Harry watched as you walked away, seeing you pull off your T-shirt as you were shutting your bedroom door, briefly exposing your black bralette. Harry ran his hand down his face, feeling the pulse return to his groin. He quickly shut and locked the door before situating himself on his bed, promptly pushing his shorts and briefs down his thighs, reaching for the high end lotion you placed by the bed for guests.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry had taken his own shower after relieving himself after he made a proper mess on his thighs and hand. He climbed down the stairs to the smell of curry and Elton John playing through the speakers.
“Figured we should eat a proper meal since we haven’t yet today, so I ordered some Thai.”
You both sat on your back porch, enjoying the view as you ate your take out. You chatted about the next day, telling Harry about the car show and what to expect when it comes to Jack.
“He's like that eccentric drunk uncle at the Christmas party that you love but don’t want to deal with.”
You enjoyed each other’s company, watching the sun start to set on the horizon before calling it a night and turning in.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
After waking up from a restful sleep, Harry got dressed in his running shorts and hoodie, throwing on his running shoes before walking to your room to let you know he was going to go for a run along the beach.
Your door was cracked open slightly, Harry able to see you laying on your bed. He stepped closer to the door, about to push the door open further when he heard an ever present whimper. He wasn’t sure if the noise was due to your sleep, but his question was answered when he looked at you in your detail.
Your legs were spread open, two fingers deep to the knuckle as you were laid open on your comforter. You were pumping into yourself as you had your other hand up under your sleep shirt, groping your breast and rolling your nipple between your fingers.
Harry thought he was dreaming, seeing the delicious sight in front of him. Harry couldn’t help himself but to dip his hand in his shorts to start palming his hardening member. Your whimpers going straight to his cock, the arch of your spine off your bed making his mouth water.
You looked over at your door, eyes barely open, pausing your movements briefly when you saw Harry in the crack of the door. Your eyes trail to see him pumping his hand in his shorts, thinking that you should give him a good show.
He didn’t notice that you had seen him but he did notice that your legs had spread further as you pulled your glistening fingers out of your core to rub them on your clit, causing you to moan louder. You pulled your shirt up completely to expose yourself fully to Harry, all without him knowing that you were aware of his wandering eyes.
Having him watch you work yourself got you to your brink. Your eyes were glued to his pumping which was now frantic, causing you to lose control, snapping your legs shut around your hand as you came undone. You could hear Harry attempt to muffle his grunt as he made a mess of his shorts, causing a blissful smile to grow across your swollen lips. You gently rolled your fingers around your clit, spreading your legs again for Harry to watch as you ease yourself down from your high.
The next time you looked at your door, Harry was gone.
You got out of bed with an annoyed huff, getting a shower before wrapping yourself in your robe to head downstairs to make coffee and a quick breakfast. You grabbed your plate of eggs and toast with your coffee and cigarettes, stepping out on your back porch to enjoy the air while trying to calm your aggravation.
You don’t know why you are annoyed with Harry not making a move on you while you were self pleasing, but you were. You wanted that to be the moment to break down the walls built by the pure sexual tension between you. You knew he wanted you, he had told you he had touched himself to you, and now, you had seen him touch himself to you. You were on the brink of sinking on your knees and pulling him out to prove how much you wanted him too.
Harry climbed up the stairs, all sweaty from his run as you were finishing up your cigarette. He could sense the irritation coming off of you but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe you had caught him and you weren’t happy about it. He would just die if that was the case. He sat down in the chair that wasn’t taken over by your resting feet. He noticed that you were only picking at your breakfast as he untied his shoes and kicked them off so as to not trail any sand inside. He leaned back in his seat, taking a deep breath before pulling his hoodie off, T-shirt coming off with it.
You couldn’t help your mouth watering seeing him now topless and glistening with sweat, watching his chest rise and fall while trying to catch his breath. You sat up and ripped a piece of toast before popping it in your mouth, now refusing to look at him.
“Have a nice run?” You continued to poke at your eggs, acting like you're eating them but you are just trying to occupy your eyes.
“Yeah, it was nice. Been a while since I ran on a beach.”
You hummed at his response before standing up and grabbing your things. “We will be leaving in an hour, Jack wants us to meet him at the country club before the car show.”
Harry nodded at you but you promptly walked inside, ignoring his reply before dropping your dishes in the sink and going to your room to get ready.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
You knew you were being petty. You knew that he couldn’t read your mind but god you wished he could. You were just finishing your hair when you heard a knock on your bedroom door. You walked over to see Harry clad in red and white gingham trousers and a white button up with the sleeves rolled up, just sheer enough to make the outlines of his black ink. His hair was perfectly slicked back with a few curls having some definition to them. He had a look of cowardice as he tucked his hands in the pockets of his trousers.
“Looking handsome, as always.” He gave you a soft smile at the compliment before fully taking you in. You were in a white knee length sundress that had big roses printed on the fabric. Your one shoulder strap annoyingly falling down, which Harry promptly grazed his fingers against your skin to slide the strap into place.
Harry’s gaze raked back up your frame before looking you in your eyes, “You ready?”
You nodded at him, grabbing your Michael Kors wedges off your bed before walking out of your room ahead of Harry. You made your way to the mud room to switch your purses and to sit on the bench to slip on your shoes.
Harry grabbed your shoes for you, kneeling in front of you, gingerly wrapping his fingers around your ankle to slide your foot into the wedge, pulling the zipper up at the heel. He had done the same to your other foot, this time watching you watch him. He gently placed your foot to the floor before standing up straight and putting his hand out for you to help you up before walking to your car.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The car ride was silent, omitting the random questions Harry had regarding the country club and Jack. You adjusted your sunglasses after you had parked, reaching into the back seat to grab your bag. You were about to climb out but Harry gripped your wrist, pausing your motions.
“Y/N…” you looked at him as he had reached to push your sunglasses off your face to look you directly in the eyes. “I’m sorry about this morning, when I saw you. I should have left you in private but I just couldn’t help myself. I needed to see you, need to see you like that. If it ruined any type of relationship we may have, I thoroughly apologize. You should know that I never meant to invade your privacy but… fuck, I just can’t help myself with you. My body takes over when it comes to you and I am so sorry. Please, forgive me?”
You sat there in silence, trying not to smile at how cute Harry was. He was giving you the puppy eyes as his thumb ran over your wrist in gentle circles. You were pondering on how you should approach it; Do you tell him it was no problem? Ignore it and act like nothing happened? Or…
“I only got off because I saw you pump your cock watching me.” You leaned over to kiss his cheek before stepping out of the car to the entrance of the country club.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jack loved Harry. They were chatting it up outside, Jack with a cigar in his mouth and Harry with his mimosa in hand. You were ordering you both another one when Jack’s wife, Sharon, approached you at the bar.
“He’s a looker, sweetheart.” You smiled at her before telling her honestly how you met. Jack and Sharon were always supportive of you. You had been Jack’s intern at his company when you were in undergrad, Jack promptly hiring you when you were getting your masters. He taught you everything you knew and Sharon taught you how to enjoy the finer things in life, including Harry.
“Cut the shit with the escort thing and make him your man. He’s a looker, he’s smart. Jack already adores him and is calling him son. You know how hard it is to please that man.”
You looked back to Harry and Jack, both laughing at one of their dad jokes. Harry looked up to see you looking at him, smiling and twiddling his fingers in a wave. He finished his drink, prompting him and Jack to walk back inside to you girls.
Harry had adjusted the strap of your dress that fell down again and you were handing him a new mimosa, sipping out of your own glass. Harry placed his hand on your lower back, watching you as you engage in the conversation Jack and Sharon were having.
An announcement was made that the fairway was now open for guests to look at the cars. Jack quickly downed his drink before exiting like a kid being allowed free range of a candy store. Sharon promptly followed her husband as Harry guided you to follow, grazing his hand down to your bum to give it a soft rub and light tap.
Harry followed Jack around as he was explaining to Harry all the ins and outs of all the vintage cars on show. What gave them value, their rarity, what he likes and dislikes of each car. Sharon and you following behind, enjoying the sun and the wine slushies you had grabbed from a vendor.
Harry took a particular interest in a white 1966 Mercedes-Benz 230SL, stalking around it to take in the details. He smiled to the owner when they came over to talk to Harry, showing the car with the roof down.
“He’s got good taste. He’s enamored by you and the car.” Jack elbowed your shoulder, causing the strap of your dress to fall again. You looked at him as you adjusted the dress with a smile.
“How can you tell?”
“Well, I can tell he loves the car because that’s how he looks at you, doll.”
You look back to Harry, who is now sitting in the driver's seat, running his hands along the steering wheel. Harry shakes hands with the driver before walking back over to you, grabbing your slushie to take a drink himself.
You look up at him, pushing your sunglasses into your hair to take him in fully. “You like?”
Harry put his hand on your hip, taking another sip of the slushie. “She is a beauty. My dad has something similar but not as pristine.” He looked back over his shoulder to look at the car as his hand continued to rub at your hip.
“She is pretty. Looks like a pearl.” You looked over his shoulder with him to take her in.
Harry kissed the top of your head, handing back your drink before going to follow Jack and Sharon as you sneak off to talk to the owner.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
You enjoyed your dinner with Jack and Sharon, catching up on your businesses as well as discussed Harry’s future plans. Jack had offered Harry an intern position at his company if Harry was interested.
Jack and Sharon wished you and Harry a good night before you went your separate ways to your cars. Sharon gave you an extra squeeze and told you to “be nice to that boy”, sending you a wink.
You climb into your car to see Harry beaming. “I think they liked me.”
You smiled back at him, “I know they like you. Wouldn't stop coming up to me to tell me how i should keep you around.”
Harry was leaning his head on the headrest to look at you, “Do you want to keep me around?”
“Should I keep you around?” You started your car and began to drive away, Harry still watching your every move. You could see him in the corner of your eye, both of your smiles growing. His hand made its way to your thigh, pushing your skirt up so that his hand could rest on your bare skin. You hummed at the warmth of his palm.
“So you liked when I was watching you?” His hand began to slide further up your dress and your legs had spread further for him, as they tend to do more frequently than not as of late.
“I loved it.”
He hummed at your response, “Do you like being caught? Dirty girl.”
You moaned and moved your left leg so Harry could touch every inch of you, you lifted the skirt of your dress to expose your lace covered core to Harry.
“Want me to finger fuck you here, dirty girl? Right in your car, while you're driving? You’re fucking filthy.”
He started to run his fingers through your folds and you tried your hardest to focus on the road. You weren’t far from your home at this point, trying to stay safe while focusing on Harry’s delicious fingers learning the dips and curves of your core.
“Should I wait to fuck you properly when we get home? Been thinking about it all day.” He unbuckled his seatbelt to get closer to you to nose at your neck. He started to dip his fingers into you as he was kissing any exposed skin.
You finally made it home, abruptly parking your car in the driveway. You undid your seatbelt, promptly taking Harry’s hand that was between your legs to plunge his fingers deeper into you. Your head tipped back as Harry’s fingers hit your favorite spot. Harry quickly made the come hither motion, rubbing his fingertips where you needed him.
“God baby… you’re my dirty girl, huh? Fucking yourself with my fingers.” Your grip tightened around his wrist as he nipped at your jaw. Your thighs began to tighten around Harry’s hand which caused him to remove himself from you. You let out a whine at the empty feeling and the pure desire that was burning in you.
You turn to Harry with lust filled eyes to see him shamelessly suck on each finger that was buried in you individually. “Going to give me a proper taste later. Aren’t you, sweet girl?”
Harry had climbed out of the car, grabbing the keys from you to unlock the door. He began to unbutton his shirt in the mud room as he was kicking off his shoes, you watched with a panting breath, still in the front seat of your car. Harry tucked his hands in the pockets of his trousers, bare chested, and gave you a nod to follow him inside.
When you finally entered your house, Harry was in the kitchen with his head in the refrigerator. He pulled out the container of strawberries and slid them onto the island. He closed the door before turning to lean on the island, popping the container open with a flick of his finger. He grazed the tips of his fingers across each strawberry, deciding which one was the juiciest berry.
“Go get in your shower. I will be there in a moment.” He gripped the stem of the red fruit, tongue grazing it’s flesh before he sunk his teeth in. He made sure to look at you as he licked his lips free of the sweet juice.
You thought that two could play at this game, standing in place as you unzipped your dress and letting it fall freely around your ankles, exposing you in your strapless bra and panties with your wedges still on before climbing up the stairs. Harry stood up straight as you began to walk away.
You quickly undressed as you started your shower, getting under the warm stream while patiently waiting. The anticipation was killing you. It felt like you had been standing under the running water for hours with Harry nowhere to be found. You decided that you would actually start your shower routine.
You were facing the water, rinsing off your face free of makeup and face wash when you felt Harry’s grip on the back of your neck. He pressed his body close to yours so that you could feel his erection on your bum and so that his mouth had access to your ear.
“What am I to do with you, filthy girl? Spent months thinking of you with your legs spread open, just for me and then you have to go and fuck yourself with not only your fingers, but mine as well.”
He used his left hand to guide yours to the wall for support while his right hand trailed down your body, immediately finding purchase between your legs. His middle finger was quick with making circles around your sensitive nub while he laced his fingers with yours against the wall.
“Dreamt about touching you,” his fingers dipped lower, grazing your glistening entrance. “Tasting you,” he began to pepper kisses along your shoulder. “Fucking you.” He thrusted his hips behind you, his hard on grazing perfectly between your cheeks.
“I’ve wanted to for so long my sweet girl, just know that it’s because I want this, not because of the job. Fuck the job honestly. I just want you, all of you.”
He gave a gentle push to your upper spine to have you lean over slightly as he grips his member, swiftly sliding himself into you and quickly gaining a rhythm with his thrusts. He was quick but not deep, causing you to press your cheek to the cold time for support. His thrusts became deeper and rougher, causing your gentle whimpers to become moans that bounced against the tiles.
Harry gripped your thigh, pulling it to spread you open further while he guided you to rest your foot on the bench of the shower. His moans were muffled by your shoulder that would have his mark by the end of this. Harry’s hand continued to rub circles on your clit, making your legs tremble and for your to lean back upright into Harry.
“Feel good baby? Fuck, you’re such a good girl taking me. Feel so fucking good.”
You could feel his hips stutter against you, causing him to roll his hips slowly into you. You let out a moan and grip the wrist of his hand that is making work on your mound.
“Mmm you like that? Going to cum for me, sweet girl? Let me feel you.” His fingers started to move in rapid figure eights, causing your leg that was propped up to quickly fall and close Harry’s hand between your thighs. The new tightness of your core with your legs closed caused Harry to moan out and still within you, feeling your orgasm throb around him.
He began to kiss down your spine so he could be on his knees. He gently gripped your hip to turn you around so you could finally face him. He looked beautiful.
As he was kissing your lower belly, you took in his wet hair slicked back, his cheeks and chest flush from orgasm, his lips red and swollen. He used both hands to spread your thighs open so that he could see his cum drip from your core. He looked up at you in awe before quickly running his finger through your folds, catching both his and your arousal. He extended his hand up to you, telling you to ‘open’ before he popped his slick finger between your lips. He let you suck his finger to your desire as he dipped his tongue between your folds, moaning at the taste of your mixture.
Harry had stood up and held your jaw before leaning in for your first kiss. He was gentle, holding both sides of your jaw as his tongue grazed your lip to allow him to taste all of you. He pressed you gently against the cool wall as he continued to kiss you breathless before pulling away and grabbing the shampoo to wash your hair for you.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It had been a few weeks and you had finally received the call telling you that you could pick up a gift that you had purchased for Harry. You had bought it prior to him giving you the good news that he had accepted the internship with Jack, but he doesn’t need to know that.
You called him and told him that you were on your way to pick him up with the plan to go for a celebratory dinner. You texted him when you were out front, climbing out of Harry’s gift to lean on the passenger door to await his arrival.
When he walked out, you beamed at how handsome he looked with chartreuse wide legged trousers with a black stripe along the side and a black button up. When he turned to look at you, he was frozen.
The white 1966 Mercedes-Benz 230SL.
You lifted your hands with a ‘surprise’ and a beaming smile. You acted as if you were one of those girls on the Price is Right, explaining all the details, ending with “And she could be all yours Mr. Styles, for the price of a kiss.”
Harry climbed down the front stairs of his apartment building, still in awe of the car but quickly grabbed your face and placed multiple quick kisses to your lips before wrapping his arms around you.
“Sweet girl, you didn’t…”
“You stop. I did and I wanted to, you deserve it. You’ve been working so hard and you got the internship with Jack. We’ll be working together before you know it.”
He looked down at you and gave you a gentle smile before giving you another longer, sweeter kiss. “Shall we go for a ride?” You held the keys up for Harry, who promptly took them before opening the passenger door for you.
Harry drove around the city, following your directions to a more secluded area by a park. The sun was setting as you told Harry to park the car. You looked at him adoringly, your fingers rubbing through his growing locks.
Harry turned to look at you with that all knowing glare, “Did you bring me all the way out here just to screw me, dirty girl?”
You were already climbing across the seat to straddle his lap, unzipping the front of your dress, exposing you had nothing on underneath. You pulled Harry’s head back by tugging at his hair to look up at you. “We need to break her in, don't we?”
Harry groaned before sitting up to give you a searing kiss, his hands trailing over your exposed skin as you were kissing the skin of his jaw and neck. “We could get caught, you know?”
You pulled away, looking down upon him with a devious smirk, you began to undo his belt and zip of his trousers. “Good.”
Harry let out a moan as you dipped his hand in his trousers, pumping him lightly before pulling him out.
“Fucking filthy girl.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry was being added to all the invitations to your work events as if he were a part of you. At this point, he was. Claudia being sure that everyone knew that Harry was an up and coming businessman who was in love with New York’s finest and most beautiful businesswoman.
And everyone adored Harry. How could they not? He was charming, handsome, smart, and an amazing lover. But people didn’t need to know the last part. Well, except maybe Claudia, she was your best friend.
Harry was just as adventurous as you when it came to your intimacy. Always suggesting new things to try, always feeding your hunger. Tonight was no different.
You both had played with the idea of fooling around at a public event but never made any formal agreement. Tonight, you were invited to a gala at the Guggenheim so Harry had used it as an opportunity to fulfill your fantasy.
Harry had stopped by Harris’ to pick up both of your garments and he also stopped at Eve’s Garden on his way to your home. Harry had walked into your penthouse with the garment bags and a little black plastic bag in hand.
You were in your en-suite finishing up your bath, putting lotion on while sitting on the edge of your tub, humming along to Etta James as Lady was curled up on your vanity, licking her paw. She chirped when she saw Harry in the doorway, slinking her way to him for some loving pets.
“Hello, my sweet girls.” You beam up at Harry, rubbing the last of your lotion into your hands before standing up to give Harry a saccharine kiss, also giving Lady a pet. She would never forgive you if you didn’t.
“Thank you for picking up my dress, handsome.”
“Of course, my love. I picked up a little something else.” Harry gave you a small smirk before turning to your room, you follow suit. Harry sat on your bed, patting his lap for you to sit on.
He pulled black bag out from behind him as you sat in his lap. He handed you the bag, undoing your robe to kiss the skin of your collar. You pulled out the vibrant cube box that was nondescript. You rotated it in your hands to try to figure out what it was.
“Open it.” Harry continued to kiss your skin, opening your robe more to expose your chest to him. You opened the box to see a vibrator, a We-Vibe specifically. The box began to vibrate without you touching anything, Harry pulling his lips off your skin to show you that he is controlling it with his phone.
You let out a laugh in disbelief, “Oh, baby.”
Harry smiled at you before getting a good grip of you to lay you on the bed. “I figured we could have a little fun tonight.”
You laid on your back and spread your legs for Harry, who settled on his knees between yours. Harry had pulled the vibrator out of the box, going to the bathroom to sanitize it like the gentleman he is. He made eye contact with you on his way back to you, sucking on the vibrator as he crawled back up the bed.
He shamelessly rolled it against his tongue as his free hand ran up your inner thigh. Harry pulled the vibrator out of his mouth, hollowing his cheeks to spit on the tip of the vibrator before running it through your folds. He gently pushed it into you, watching you as you take a quick inhale.
“You okay, sweet girl?” You gave him a small nod before grabbing his hand to help him adjust it to a more comfortable position within you. Harry rubbed the tops of your thighs before leaning forward to give you a gentle kiss. “Let's get ready, hm?”
You both got up to get ready, you waddling slightly as you walked to your closet, adjusting to exciting new object between your legs. You let out a squeal when you felt it begin to vibrate.
“Just testing it!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Dinner was really rough on you, Harry having his phone permanently attached to his hand under the table. You were starting to get sweaty around your hairline and upper lip trying to keep your moans at bay.
You were reapplying your signature lipstick after finishing dinner and Harry took it as an opportune moment to give you a pulsing vibrate, causing you to give a light moan as your mouth was open and your hand holding your mirror fell to the table soundly. Claudia, Derek, Jack, and Sharon all look at you as Harry tries to hold back his smile, clearing his throat and rubbing his two fingers on the tip of his nose.
“Are you alright, chickee?”
You also cleared your throat and nodded as you felt the intensity between your legs increase and the pulsing become more frequent. You closed your eyes and let out a hum, gently rubbing your lips together before suggesting you go to the bathroom, giving Harry’s thigh a squeeze.
You made your way out of the dining area, Harry quick to follow, telling your friends that he was simply checking up on you. You heard the click of his boots on the marbled floor, the vibrations being between your legs making your knees buckle as you feel Harry’s grip on your bicep to pull you in his direction.
He pulled you into a more private area that was closest to where you were, which happened to be a coat closet. He smeared his lips against yours, smudging your scarlet lips. Harry’s hand was quick to run up your skirt to pull the toy from you, promptly placing it between his lips to suck off your juices before sticking it in his inner jacket pocket.
Harry fell to his knees before you, hiking up your skirt around your waist, gripping your hands to guide you to hold the skirt up for him.
“You’ve been such a good girl for me tonight baby.” He was kissing along your thighs, “Stayed nice and quiet for me, though I hate it. Need to hear you scream for me now, darling.” Harry lifted your leg so it rested on his shoulder while his hands pinned you against the wall.
You felt his fingers tighten around your hips as his nose rubbed against your mound, pecking kisses, occasionally giving your skin a soft lick. You moan softly and look down to see Harry already peering up at you through his long lashes. “Going to need you to be louder than that, sweet girl.”
Harry sat up on his hunches to pull himself out of the restraints of his designer trousers. He lifted his palm up to you, “Spit.”
You gladly spit in his palm before he started to stroke himself, letting an unashamed moan out of the back of his throat. “Been so fucking hard for you all night. Was palming myself under the table all through dinner.”
You spread your legs further as Harry scooted closer, returning to giving you gentle kisses to your mound and lips. You could feel his moans against your skin as he was pumping himself and spreading you open with his tongue.
Your head tipped back as Harry began to dip his tongue into you, gently sucking your lips and clit individually into his mouth. You continue to let out tiny mewls, and Harry needed more.
“Louder, dirty girl. I want them to hear you in the dining room.”
“I need you to fuck me if you want me to do that, baby.”
Harry quickly removed your thigh from his shoulder and climbed to his feet. He still had a grip on your thigh, slinging it over his hip so he could simply slide into you, which was easy to do with how slick you had become from Harry’s incessant teasing all night.
You both moaned out at the feeling, finally having you full of him, just what you needed. What you both needed. You let out a loud moan when Harry started thrusting his hips into you, begging for him to go harder as you dug your nails into his suit jacket. You quickly pushed it off of him so that you could get your nails into him properly.
“Fucking hell, my dirty girl really needs me, huh?”
You nodded at him, letting out another moan that caused Harry’s hips to thrust erratically. His hand gripped your ass to pull you closer, his other hand went to your jaw, his thumb running over your ruby lips, smearing the color.
“You look so good when I fuck you baby girl.” You licked his thumb, tasting the remnants of your lipstick. You grind your hips against Harry, egging him on.
“I need you harder.” You begin to lift your other leg to wrap around Harry’s waist, him gripping your thigh and pinning your harder to the wall with his hips. He took your direction and began to thrust into you harder, hips snapping at a feverish pace. The sound of your skin slapping and your strangled moans sent Harry into overdrive, using his pubic mound to grind perfectly into your clit causing you to gush slightly around Harry’s member.
“Fuck, dirty girl. Got you squirting on me.” The look on Harry’s face was a look of awe as well as pained trying to hold back from his own orgasm. Your thighs clamped around his waist as your second wave came over you, constricting Harry causing him to come undone. Harry’s hand flew up to the wall to support the two of you as you slowly came down.
Harry kissed your cheek and jaw mumbling how perfect you are and that he loves you over and over. You grip his jaw as you unhook your ankles to plant yourself to the floor. Kissing him and praising how good he treats you, how much you love him.
“We should probably get back, hm?”
“I think that since we are both a proper mess,” he tried to remove some of your smeared lipstick with no luck, smiling down at you, “we should probably just head home.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“So what happened with you and Harry last night?” Claudia had asked you as you were both eating your salads from Derek’s go-to local bistro.
“Hm? Oh, I wasn’t feeling well so he just took me home.”
“Not feeling well as in, ‘tummy not well’, or ‘he fucked you so good in the coat closet that you couldn’t walk’ not well?”
You choked on your salad, taking quick sips from your water to clear your throat.
“He said he wanted everyone to hear you and boy did we!” Claudia began to laugh, taking another bit of food and giving you a cheeky smile as you blushed.
“I wanted to check up on you, as girls do, and the next thing I know, I have my ear pressed up to the coat closet getting turned on by Harry’s dirty talk to you.” She shrugged it off as nothing as you covered your face in embarrassment.
“You told me you both are adventurous but lord have mercy. Getting everyone hot and bothered by it.”
You finally loosened up, giggling slightly as you asked her, “Did you notice how I was off throughout the night?” She nodded as she licked the piece of green hanging out of her mouth to guide it where it belonged.
“Harry got us one of those remote vibrators…”
“Oh my god! He was fucking with you all night?! I would take him in the coat closet too! Fucking hell! That’s so hot though. Was it nice? I mean clearly, but would you do it again?”
As you were about to respond, Jack walked in with Harry beside him. He looked so handsome when dressed in a more casual suit for work. His hair was growing longer and he was too lazy to shave that morning at your place before work, so he had a slight scruff to him.
“To what do we own the pleasure of you fine gentleman?” Harry winked at your cheeky remark.
“Well sweetheart, wanted you to be the first to know. Harry has accepted a position at my company and would like to discuss a business proposition with you.”
You couldn’t help but to jump up to your feet to run over and give him a hug and kiss, doing the same to Jack.
You clear your throat to appear to be more professional, which no one in the room took seriously. “So what is this business proposition that you have for me?”
Harry cleared his throat and you didn’t realize that Derek and Sharon had also made their way into your office. Harry tucked his hands in his pockets, getting a nod of approval from Jack.
“I know that our start was quite unorthodox in nature, being as you had hired me as a date to an event. That being said, I have come to learn a lot more about you than I had when I was just a simple fangirl of yours.”
You giggle at his natural joking nature but know that there is true sentiment to his words.
“I have been utterly in love with you before we even met but being with you and getting to truly know you has cemented my thoughts and feelings for you. I know that we have been official for less than a year but I don’t think I could handle another moment of my life where I can’t say that we will be each other's forever.”
You could hear Claudia and Sharon squeak and gasp as Harry pulls his hands out of his pockets, his left one holding a small velvet box.
“Y/N, my love, my sweet girl. I promise to love you and take care of you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”
You were beaming with your eyes brimmed with tears, sniffling with a giggle. “There is only one problem.” Everyone froze in their movements, anticipating what you will say next. “I get to keep taking care of you.”
Harry let out the breath he was holding, “Fair enough.” He reached for your left hand to place the perfect engagement ring on your finger. Standing up to give you the most perfect kiss from the most perfect man. And to think that you had ordered him online.
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