#and make sure they are safe with stuff like aircon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

captaincravatthecapricious · 3 years

Text

Shaky Hands- prompt fill

Okay so I did both, but this one is for Shaky Hands!

Cw nausea, vomiting (nothing gross tho, promise), panic (but not too explicit), references to disassociation, and Jon typical negative self talk and guilt. Set post 159! (Can be read as a sequel to my last fic if you like.)

Send me more prompts! (Bingo card by @celosiaa) The ones with stars are the ones I already have prompts for, the crossed out ones are the ones I have posted! Send me a character, a prompt, and tell me if you want an art or a fic!!!!!!

Here it goes:

Jon's knuckles are white against the steering wheel of Daisy's car. Martin is dozing next to him. Face slack, and slowly regaining some color. Very, very slowly.

Jon is tired. So so so so so so tired.

The tension in his jaw is giving him a headache. Then again, that could be any number of things. Could be the thick exhaustion sitting in his limbs. It could be the endless stretch of road in front of him and the endless stretch behind. Although that is what is currently trying to force his stomach up his throat.

He's Fine.

He grits his teeth harder. They don't have time to stop.

He would turn on the aircon, but he's worried about Martin. Would the cold be too much like the Lonely?�� Martin is still faintly shivering under the thick jumper he had donned after his shower back at his flat before they had left.

Wasn't driving supposed to Stop a person from getting carsick? Christ there had been a time where he had trained himself to read in the car. It had taken a while... and many errors much to the chagrin of his grandmother, but he had managed it.

Of course that didn't stop him from getting horrifically sick on that unfortunate "Team Archive" road trip and every time he was kidnapped. Daisy had not been happy. Jon shudders to think of it.

And now he's nauseous and sad. Brilliant. If he loses any self control, he will be a right bloody mess.

The again, if he's going to be dreadfully ill, might as well get it over with. Maybe he'll feel better? Optimistic. Why should he assume that he would be so lucky. He hasn't been lucky a day in his life.

He's lucky no one has caught them yet. Yet. That no one is following them yet. Yet.

Seven and a half hours. They are an hour in. It’s dark. How sure is he that no one is following them? Did he catch a glimpse of police lights? Or was that just his overtaxed eyes playing tricks on him, the flash of a dashboard light against his glasses? Was that a siren or the ringing in his ears. His breath coming hot and fast against anxiety and his unhappy stomach.

Breathe Jon.

In through the nose out through the mouth. Again. Again. Again. Don’t hold the breath. That will make it worse. Something that Jon found hard to fathom. How could he feel worse? No. Shouldn’t think like that. Anything could happen. A tire could blow out. Martin could fall out of the car. The engine could fall out of the car. He could be sick all over the windshield and he could crash them into a tree.

No. No. No.

If a tire goes flat, there is one in the boot. He Knows that.

Martin probably won’t fall out of the car. It’s no more likely than Jon falling out of the car. He tries to Know the odds to calm himself but all he gets is static and a worse headache for his trouble.

He doesn’t try to Know the odds of the engine falling out. A headache any worse would cause him to be ill immediately.

As for the last possibility. He won’t think about it. He’s fine. He is.

It’s raining now. Heavy sheets of the stuff batter the car. Or at least rattle it. Rattle Jon. Quaking hands on the wheel. His hands cramped and numb from his grip on the wheel. His arms sore from it. It’s been a long time since he drove. And he was never very good.

He’s thirsty. But putting anything in him sounds like a terrible idea. But being thirsty makes him feel so much worse.

Martin is still asleep. And Jon is just barely keeping it together for him. Barely. Martin needs to sleep. Jon needs to let him sleep. He tried to count trees earlier but with the rain and the dark he can’t manage that. He can hardly see the road and he suddenly Knows about the oils rising in the rainwater from the road and making it that much easier for Jon to slide them off the road and get them both killed. So close. So close to being safe. To being free.

His stomach lurches. Again. He swallows hard. Again. He can’t keep doing this.

The backs of his hands are tingling. It’s getting hard for him to measure his breaths.

He is honestly not sure if this is panic or nausea. Probably both. Because he’s on the run again. And this time he did actually legitimately kill someone. A though that further turns his stomach much as he absolutely doesn’t regret it. He was a horrible old bastard and he tried to take Martin. But what if Basira? Left to deal with his mess, that was his fault, right? The hunters here for him. Not-Sasha also after him. If it weren’t for him, Daisy wouldn’t... she....

He’s gasping for air. There are tears on his cheeks. And he’s pulled to the wrong side of the road, emptying his stomach. Door flung open. Rain soaking his jumper. Seatbelt digging into his shoulder.

It hurts and he’s crying harder.

And Martin’s hand is on his heaving back. His other hand gathering his tangled hair.

He shouldn’t have woken him. He should have pulled over and gotten out, but he’d been too sick. Too dizzy. Too tired.

Jon continues to gag. He is shivering. Rain running in rivulets down his spine. Martin probably also getting soaked. Martin who needs to stay warm and dry and not alone getting wet and cold and with only his miserable company. He sobs around his body trying to expel all of the nothing he’s eaten over the last few days.

“Oh. Oh, Jon.” Martin’s voice to gentle. It makes Jon sob harder.

Martin still rubbing his back. Martin leaving as far as he can over to Jon’s seat and Jon knows it can’t be comfortable. Jon doesn’t have the where with all to make any sound other than a pathetic whine.

“Jon, please are you alright? No that’s a stupid question, you’re clearly not. What can I do to help?”

Jon manages to swallow hard a few times and slowly tries to sit up. The seatbelt digging in harder as it did not appreciate the sudden yank to the side. He pulls the door closed, very much hoping he won’t need to open it again.

“‘M fine. It’s fine. Go back to sleep.” His voice is worse than wrecked. It’s hoarse and thick and damp. “We’ll be there soon.” They won’t. That starts a sob tearing through him. They need to keep going. They need to keep going. They’ve got to go before someone comes after them. Jon can lose his lack of lunch when they’re safe. And they aren’t safe and Martin isn’t safe. And Jon can’t make his miserable body do anything but be cold and wet and still impossibly queasy and shake. Shake with exhaustion, nausea, anxiety, cold.

“Jon, please talk to me?”

“Just carsick. I’m fine. Let’s go.”

Jon starts the car again and Martin sputters weakly. Still cold and drained and Jon is just draining him further.

“Jon! You’re soaked! You’re sick! You’re shaking! Don’t you think any of those mean you shouldn’t be driving?”

Martin is probably right. There’s only one of those things he can fix. “I’ll. I’ll get a spare jumper, alright? But you shouldn’t be driving either. I’ll be fine. If I have to pull over a few more times… so be it. But honestly I’ll be worse if I’m not driving and looking at the road. And you... Martin I’m worried about you.” He doesn’t want to say that Martin has been disassociating when he isn’t sleeping, for fear of making Martin defensive, or worse losing him to where ever his brain goes when he’s like that. He doesn’t want to lose Martin to the fog or to himself.

Martin must know that’s he’s less fit to drive, or he would be arguing.

Jon wants Martin to go back to sleep. He also selfishly wants Martin to stay awake and keep rubbing his back when he’s ill. He wants Martin to hold his hand. He wants Martin to hold him until the shaking stops, the headache stops, the dizziness stops, until his stomach stops rolling, until he’s no longer afraid.

Selfish.

Useless.

Pathetic.

He stifles another sob as he sheds his jumper and fumble blindly behind him from another from his backpack.

He turns off the hazard lights and shakily gets them back in the road.

His head buzzes with headache. Worse now that he’s lost more liquid than he had to spare. And the motion of the car is making his head swim more and his stomach turn. Again.

Martin is handing him a water bottle. Martin is carefully wiping away his tears.

“Please, you’ve got to drink something.”

Jon whines. A truly embarrassing sound. He doesn’t want to. But he takes a couple very very measured sips.

“That’s very good. Thank you. It’s okay if we have to stop again, you know.”

Jon nods for unhappily. He doesn’t want to open his mouth to say they probably won’t have a choice.

Jon has to pull over several more times. Each time more painful than the last.

Shaking harder than ever before, Jon stops the car in front of a small, ...cute cabin. It’s mid morning. And Martin had commented several times on Jon’s claim that they would be there “soon.” It’s still sprinkling and Jon is caught between how the cabin is both increasingly Not Daisy and yet very very Daisy. He doesn’t have the energy to dwell on that, though. He takes slowly retrieves his bag and wavers the few steps towards the door. His hands shaking almost too much to find the key and unlock it.

His vision is darkening around the edges.

He flutters awake in Martin’s arms. They are on a bed Jon doesn’t recognize in a room Jon also doesn’t recognize. He’s sore and thirsty and dizzy and exhausted. His shoes have been removed and Martin is pressing him with more water.

“Sorry,” Jon manages to slur around sips that Martin is ferrying to his mouth.

“Shh. Water then we are getting some sleep. No more fainting.”

Jon doesn’t have energy to argue. He drinks his water, and presses himself against Martin with a sigh.

They can talk later.

#the magnus archives #fic #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tma #cw nausea #cw vomit #emeto warning #cw panic #cw guilt #whump #motionsickness #words #my words #my writing #art #my art

120 notes · View notes

purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1257

Have you ever watched a movie in class/school that made you cry? Oh for sure. We had to watch It’s A Beautiful Life and I know I cried every single time I watched that movie, whether for school or on my own time.

What’s the earliest you could go to bed at night and feel okay about? I don’t really get this question. I feel like it would make more sense if it asked how early I’m willing to wake up in the morning...? Anyway, I don’t pay attention to the time I sleep at night. Sometimes I’ll pass out as early as midnight, and sometimes I’ll be up until 3; it doesn’t matter to me.

What is you favorite type of lunch meat? I’m not into those in general.

What time of the year do you dislike the most? The heat in April and May is just brutal and uncalled for. It gets so hot and disgustingly humid and most times the aircon can’t even do much to quell it.

Do you put ketchup on your scrambled eggs? Yeah, banana ketchup since that’s what we usually have a bottle of. Generally, I have banana ketchup with most of my breakfast dishes too.

What is your favorite color to wear? I don’t really have a favorite to wear those days mostly because I barely go out anyway and there’s been little need to update my closet.

Are you an overachiever? Seems like the type of question you should be asking my parents, not me haha. Personally, though, I’m fairly proud of what I’ve accomplished.

What physical feature do you wish you had (i.e. freckles, curly hair)? Maybe longer legs and smaller teeth, but I’m not exactly insecure about mine.

What fictional character (i.e. Bambi, Scarlette O'Hara) would you marry? Did you just raise the possibility of marrying a deer? Anyway...since I mentioned Two for the Road in the last survey, I’ll go with Mark from that movie. Seems like my type of partner.

How long have you gone without shaving (girls- legs, armpits; boys- faces)? With legs...around 2-3 weeks. Armpits, maybe about a week or so. Never more than a month for either.

What is the meanest thing you have ever said to someone else? For the most part I’ve always been cautious of what I say; writing, on the other hand...I’ve written stuff on my diary wherein I let out all my frustrations against my mom. I know they were mean because she cried over them – but that also entailed snooping through my stuff, so I’ve never felt bad about it. I meant those things as I wrote them because it was my safe space, and she violated that. That’s on her.

Did you ever go through a phase where you wrote bad poetry? I did, but I instantly realized it was bad so I stopped as soon as I began.

What is your favorite thing about your life? How everything seems to have fallen in its place these days. There’s really little to complain about and I’m grateful for that.

Save all the animals that die during road kill or save 1 human from a fire? Animals.

Have you ever painted a picture of somebody? No.

How many real bfs/gfs have you had? One.

Did you enjoy your past relationships? I did.

Name a comedy that you like. White Chicks. << I love this choice, let’s just go with this one lol.

Could you wait until marriage for sex? Sure.

What’s the best Nirvana song? I don’t listen to them. I know a couple of songs but I don’t like them enough to be my favorites.

What was the last thing that impressed you? The new Butter remix with Megan Thee Stallion.

When was the last time you were in a pet store? Years, years ago.

What nationality is your last name? Spanish or Portuguese, I’m not super sure.

What’s your favorite kind of chips and dip? I never dip my chips; I just have them as is.

Who was the last boy that you saw cry? Idk...maybe one of my cousins from one of our family reunions last year. I don’t get to be around a lot of boys or guys.

Does your mom know you do surveys? No. I’ve never had to raise it and I can’t see a situation where I would have to.

Have you ever had a serious injury? Yeah, I got a big wound from when I went snorkeling around a decade ago. I wasn’t provided flippers so when I was kicking to stay afloat I managed to hit the coral reefs underneath repeatedly, which majorly scraped and gashed my left foot until it was an open, bleeding mess. It was infected for weeks and I’m surprised it didn’t leave any kind of mark or scar.

What was the last thing you achieved? Handling a campaign for a major client successfully and getting good coverage and results for it.

Would you enjoy being famous? Probably, but I wish I had some sort of talent or skill that would propel me to popularity in the first place hahaha.

What’s under your bed? Some things I collected from past hobbies and interests, like all my old wrestling magazines.

Do you enjoy travelling? Love it.

Have you ever belonged to a club? If so, what was it? I mean I joined an org in college, which technically makes me a member for life. I’m not name-dropping but it’s one of the two journalism organizations in my alma mater.

When was the last time you drank strawberry milk? I can’t recall. I don’t drink strawberry milk.

Have you ever managed to collect all the fast food toys in a set? I never collected those.

Do you have a clock in your room? Nope.

Did you have a good driver’s ED teacher? I honestly can’t remember. I only had like three sessions with different instructors for each, and the one instructor I remember having was extremely cranky and impatient.

Which of Britney Spears’ songs is your favorite? Hold It Against Me is pretty fun.

Does mind over matter work for you? Sure.

Are you paranoid? Oh yeah. Overthinker is pretty much my middle name.

What is the best thing about winter? I wouldn’t know but considering the things associated with it, I’ve always believed it would be my favorite season.

Have you ever been truly in love? Hmm. I think so, yeah. I’d give myself that.

Are you currently planning a trip? Nah. Nothing set in stone, but Angela, Reena, and I have been talking about flying to South Korea next year. We’ll see.

How many plants are in your home? Several. My mom is a bit of a fan, but it’s nothing obsessive.

What is your favorite possession? I treasure my BTS merch, I guess haha. Nobody is allowed to touch them or move them around without my permission. As often as my mom likes to barge in my room and touch my stuff, she seems to understand and doesn’t lay a finger on any of the merch either.

Have you ever felt like you were too nice and way too often overlooked? Sure. But it's never really mattered to me; it just feels nice to be nice and do nice things for people. It does feel nice to be thanked, but I don’t necessarily do it for the recognition.

What movies have tripped you out? I’m Thinking of Ending Things, Midsommar, Anomalisa, Under the Skin, 2001: A Space Odyssey, and The Killing of A Sacred Deer are a few of them.

Did you rollerblade as a kid? Do you still rollerblade? Yesssss, I even had a pair as a kid. I got into it because I loved to ice skate, but it turned out I wasn’t as good as gliding on the ground so I ultimately preferred ice skating. Anyway, no, I haven’t done rollerblading in years.

Would you ever settle into a relationship that wasn’t right for you? Do you know friends who are in relationships just so they have someone to sleep with at night? I did. I stayed because it’s where I felt safe and I didn’t know where else to go or what else to do outside of it.

Would you take a dirty picture of yourself for someone you are dating? Sure.

Do you use earplugs or a sleeping mask when you sleep? Nope. I find them more distracting than anything else, and they actually keep me from sleeping.

What summertime treats do you love? I don’t have any.

How picky are you when it comes to choosing who to kiss or not kiss? I am VERY picky. I have to be really interested in you. < Yeah, this sounds about right.

What do you hate most about moving? The last time we moved was in 2008...and I don’t really remember disliking any part of it. I was actually excited for us to have a home all to ourselves after living with extended family in a cramped house all my life.

Do you feel that having sex anywhere but a bed is more exciting? Depends where. Sometimes it can be exciting, sometimes it can be inconvenient but you kinda do it out of desperation lol.

Do you drink 5 hour energy drinks or any other kinds of energy drinks? No, I’m scared of how it would affect my body so I’ve never tried.

Has anyone ever whistled at you? Countless random men.

Do you like scarves? They can be comfy if I’m traveling somewhere cold...but I don’t really get to do that often, so.

Is your father homophobic? I haven’t seen any signs from him. My mom is much more likely to exhibit internalized homophobia – she just did the other night.

Do you take gummy vitamins? No, only when I was a teenager.

Have you ever applied make-up on a guy, for any reason at all? I don’t think so, nothing I can recall.

Who would you like to meet before you die? I don’t have any goal person in mind.

If your dream was to be a model, and a big opportunity came up, but you had to be nude, would you take it? Hmm, probably not. What’s the most ridiculous conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of? The Avril Lavigne doppelganger one is extremely hilarious and I read up so many thread about it on Twitter just so I can see how far people can stretch it.

If Heaven and Hell exists, where are you going when you die? I don’t care.

Who is the person that you are afraid of losing, above everyone else? Either of my best friends.

What is one thing that pisses you off pretty much everyday? The weather.

Is there anyone you know that you feel should consider therapy? My mom.

Do you like any of the songs on Twilight, or the actual movie/saga itself? Yeah the soundtracks are actually fucking great. The person who took this survey before me named Supermassive Black Hole by Muse, and that’s one of my favorites from all the soundtracks. The song Slow Life in New Moon is nice, too. How old was the first person you kissed? She was 17, going on 18.

Will you be a strict parent one day? I’d have some rules set but I wouldn’t suffocate my kids.

Last person to stand up for you? Heck if I know. I can do that for myself.

Have you been to a baby shower? No.

Who were you with the last time you went to the movie theater? My ex.

What’s your favorite high school memory? Hiding a same-sex relationship from my conservative, homophobic Catholic teachers.

Do you like relationships, or do you prefer to be single? I like being single these days.

What is one adventurous thing you’d be willing to do? Trying out the Nevis Swing in New Zealand.

What subject at school did you absolutely hate? I saw no point in studying chemistry.

Italian food or Chinese food? Chinese. I like Italian cuisine, but sometimes I find it a tad bit salty for my taste.

Do you like to make flash cards when you study? Not flash cards but sometimes I’ll write my notes down in several index cards because for some reason I retain information better that way.

Has anyone ever told you that you’re a good singer? No.

Do you ever watch TED talks, live or online? No. I never saw the appeal of most of them, honestly.

I dare you to write the name of a person you strongly dislike. Gabie.

What do you think about Marilyn Manson? I have nothing to say about him tbh.

Biggest trouble you’ve ever gotten into at school? Nothing beyond getting into an argument with this kid in 2nd grade and getting sent to the counselor’s office for it.

Do you own one of those “professional” DSLR cameras? I used to, until I handed it down to my sister...and until she let it smash onto the ground because she didn’t place it on her tripod properly when she was filming one time. I still don’t get why she’s so defensive about it; I wish she’d just admit she majorly fucked up on that. Does it bother you when you see a 6th grader with a bunch of gadgets? It makes me silently judge the parents more so than letting myself be bothered by a child.

Did you buy yearbooks every year in high school, or did you not bother? We’re not offered the chance to get yearbooks unless we’re in graduating years.

Do you have Restless Legs Syndrome? No.

Jalapeños: yay or nay? YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

Did you ever play Minecraft? No. I can’t care less.

Did you ever have a Club Penguin account? Were you a member? I didn’t.

Do you know anyone that seems to not have any common sense? Me, sometimes. Hahahaha.

What do you think is the biggest injustice that was ever done to you? The way I was broken up with, like what the person who last took this said. I’m not tortured by it and her anymore, but I don’t think I deserved to intensely mull over about what I could have possibly done to be broken up with the way she did.

What type of person angers you the most? Abusive people that think only they matter and have no consideration for how their actions affect other people. < This pretty much hits the nail on the head on how my ex is, so I’ll just go ahead and agree.

If you could change your appearance, how would you alter it? I’d get braces again and...that’s it, really.

What are your feelings on feminism? I support it and I support how it advocates equality.

Describe your first relationship? I’ve only had one relationship so I’ll just answer the following question.

Describe your last relationship? Internally toxic; uhhh healthy at some points I guess, when she wasn’t being a selfish prick; a disaster towards the end.

Can you honestly say that you always practice safe sex? I honestly don’t know what constitutes ‘safe sex’ in a same-sex relationship, sooooo idk if I have.

Why do you think your most favorite film touches you so deeply? It’s a realistic take on love and I appreciate that it took its sweet time to highlight the ugly sides of love and marriage. Also, Audrey Hepburn taking her acting chops to the next level was just beautiful to watch. She was always a fantastic actress in all her movies, but I could tell her acting in Two for the Road had just a little bit more depth to it.

What do you want people you meet for the first time to think about you? That I’m nice and approachable.

Do you feel protective over someone? My friends.

What perfume/cologne do you wear? Heat Rush.

Where did your vehicle come from? My parents got it for me as a high school grad gift.

What was the color of the bridesmaid dresses of the last wedding you went to? I haven’t been to a wedding since 2007, and back then I was designated as a flower girl lol. I’ve never been to a wedding where I was chosen to be a bridesmaid.

What is your favorite way to eat chicken? CHICKEN SANDWICH. Also chicken wings.

It is your birthday. You hope the cake is: Oreo cheesecake topped with 24 macarons.

What do you wear to bed? Something thin and airy.

What were you doing at 8pm last night? I was watching Bon Voyage.

#survey #surveys

3 notes · View notes

yoongisbars · 4 years

Text

Samusil | myg | P R O L O G U E

summary: It was always known that you were the family disappointment. So naturally, you fled. With a looming school debt, alcoholic tendencies, and no luck whatsoever in keeping a job for more than a month, you were at your wits end until you finally cave into working at Bang-Lenzo. You’ve only ever heard horrors of the place and its manager. But maybe, just maybe, that office would become your safe haven.

pairing: myg x reader genre: strangers to lovers au | office!yoongi au | future angst? fluff? word count: 7.5k tw: alcohol as coping mechanism, subjects that might hit close to home note: inspired by The Office US, this is only a teaser, a taste, of a project im working on, i wont release anything besides this until its ready, so pls endure !! <3

Life was a bitch to everyone, and ever since you flunked out of Business School, it’s proven you weren’t the exception. It was an already supersaturated field with bright minded, innovative entrepreneurs. And you? Realized halfway through that the business world wasn’t cut out for you. With an overwhelmingly expensive college debt for an unfinished degree that your parents refused to pay for, you became the official family disappointment. After two years of being done with their bullshit, you finally packed your stuff and moved as far away as possible, hoping to start anew in the small town of rural Yangpiji.

Just because you had some level of education, didn’t mean it would get you quite far. It’s done the opposite, in fact. Jobs with higher wages frowned upon your incomplete studies, and jobs that didn’t give a fuck if you finished high school, didn’t pay enough to deal with their idiocies or take care of the bills for that matter. One heated argument with the owner of the last food joint you worked at was the final straw. Throwing your dirty apron at his face, you walked out of there without a single care in the world, and for the moment, you felt powerful. At least until you waltzed into Slack Jack’s and sat at the bar that night, head buried into your palms.

“Rough shift?” Your eyes peered from behind your fingers, focusing on a shot being placed in front of you. And boy, were you thankful for it. Without speaking, you threw that shit back and let it burn your throat, the only consolation for the situation you were in. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Jackson, I quit.” Feigned shock played on the bartender’s face as he cleaned a beer mug. You weren’t the only one who searched for new beginnings in Yangpiji. In front of you was Jackson Wang, owner and proprietor of Slack Jack’s. He had moved there from abroad no more than ten years ago in hopes to reinvent himself, and against all odds did. He had been your close friend for the past three years since moving. Quite frankly the only good thing this area had to offer was Jackson and his cheap drinks that get you hammered quick.

“Really? I wouldn’t have thought!” His hand shot up to cover his mouth, chuckling at your bland reaction. Rolling your eyes so far into your skull, a heavy sigh escaped from within.

“I’m serious. I quit. I quit work, I quit life, I quit Yangpiji- I’m tired… I hate that I’m a jobless 28-year-old drunk, with nothing to offer this world besides how to survive on garlic noodles and rum.” Your hands traveled the air around you as you searched for words, “I can’t even afford to make them Jjajang Noodles, Jack. JJAJANG!” A small shriek spewed out as you downed another shot, you stopped counting after the third one. Dread and sorrow pooled around you in a matter of seconds. You were at your wits end. And you couldn’t say you were past your peak, since frankly you never took off the ground to begin with. “I’m a failure, Jackson.”

Widened eyes traveled the room trying to find any words of consolation, but the bartender couldn’t find anything other than pity. His hands moved quickly, putting away the bottles before he was tempted to offer you anymore. He usually served you on the house because he knew of your struggles, but you also drank your weight in alcohol, and he didn’t want to go broke any time soon.

“Listen, chief. There’s still an option…” Oh no… You didn’t want to hear it; already knowing what was coming. “The Bang-Lenzo Yangpiji Branch is still hiring for a secretary; you should test it out.”

Ah, yes. Bang-Lenzo Inc. Somehow a successful company in the dying paper industry. One of the first to drop their deforestation contracts for their supplies and switch entirely to recycled paper. Since most companies didn’t believe in the Save The Trees movement, most of their major clients dropped them and signed contracts with Bang-Lenzo instead. Working for them would be an achievement… If only the branch in your city wasn’t a nut house.

“Jackson…” Elongating the last syllable, you groaned. “I’ve heard horror stories of people that have tried to work there, it’s chaos. No one ever lasts a full week…” The idea of even bothering to work there was dreadful. The workers there were a nightmare, so you’ve heard. But their manager? A complete lunatic. Unprofessional, immature, inappropriate, and other negative connotations have been used to describe the young manager, Jeon Jungkook. Rumor had it he was the top salesman for 4 years straight before the old manager died. When the company crunched the numbers and stats, he was technically the most qualified for the manager position and had managed to keep it for the past 5 years.

Amidst your internal struggle, Jackson raised an eyebrow and cut you straight. “It pays $15 an hour, plus benefits.” On instinct your hand shot up, doing quick maths in the air. Holy cow. You shifted your attention to Jackson so fast you almost snapped your neck.

“That’s almost $30k a year!”

“More than you’ll ever make busing tables, that’s for sure.” He had a point. And, you were desperate. Maybe not so much at first, but $15 is $15 and if it meant sacrificing your sanity for survival, well damn it, you were down for the count.

“Guess I’m speaking to Jeon…”

On Jackson’s commands and with a set of instructions, you left the bar early. ‘Prep for tomorrow, rest and sober up.’ Three things that you were never quite well doing at the very last minute. Bits and pieces of information were fed to you, in order to try and snatch the job at its core.

‘From what I’ve heard, he likes to go in on Saturday mornings to catch up on some work.’ All that meant was that you had to wake up early, and your suspected hangover did not like that. You did what any ‘sane’ person would do and popped in a pain killer and a nausea reliever, an old family remedy to wake up fresh and ready.

‘At the breakfast buffet two blocks over, I once saw him obliterate the cheddar biscuits… And I think he has a thing for sausages too.’ Really, it seemed like Jackson knew Jungkook too well, but honestly so did the town through word of mouth. That last bit of information is what made you scour the nearest convenience store for the necessary ingredients to make the piece of resistance, the key to securing your assets. With this bread you were going to get your bread.

---

Morning came quickly, as you had gone to bed late baking and sorting out your clothes for the day. Sporting one of your finer ensembles just to make a statement, you were ready to take life by the throat. A dark gray, tight pencil skirt above the knee, a light beige button up blouse with pearled buttons, and a blazer to match the skirt. You applied a fair amount of neutral colored makeup in order to rejuvenate your features to not look like you’ve been miserable for the past 10 years. You finished off the look by slipping on some classic, black Mary Jane’s.

For the first time since inheriting this 1999 Verna, you were glad the aircon was a hunk of junk and only blew hot steam. Of course you drove with the windows down to receive actual fresh air, but you angled the conductors towards the biscuits, keeping them toasty and warm as if freshly baked that morning. Jeon Jungkook would be in the palm of your hands and the job would soon be in your possession. Financial stability: here I come.

Parked outside of the building, you painted on a mask with all of the false confidence and determination you could muster, before any ounce of regret could slip in. Once the clock hit 8:55am, it was time to go. You grabbed the biscuits, which you had ever so ‘lovingly’ placed in a basket upping the charm factor, and headed for the entrance.

I need money. I need money. I need money. It was the mantra of your choosing as you took the unnervingly long elevator ride up to the Bang-Lenzo office where your unannounced meeting with Jeon Jungkook awaited. Yes, unannounced. Obviously to anyone with common sense of time, 9:00pm wasn't a viable hour to schedule a meeting for the next morning, so you decided to take the determined approach and show up like you already owned the place. For the first time you had a goal and were dead set on obtaining it. Nothing would stop you from getting that income. I need money.

‘Bang-Lenzo INC.’ read the door sign in front of you. For a moment you closed your eyes, fighting off the urge to walk back to your car and forget this place. But your mantra was quick to erase such thoughts. I desperately need money. Overpowered with feigned confidence, you strutted into the main office. Immediately you were faced with your soon to be desk. It was large and crescent shaped, spacious and tall. In a room to your right, you heard a muffled voice. Surely that was Jeon’s office. With a huff of air, you went to knock on his door.

“Huh? C-come in?” Faint and hurried clattering was heard from inside. With suspicion, you went for the door, revealing behind it the manager, and possible future boss: Jeon Jungkook. Sporting nothing but a set of gray sweats, disheveled hair, and a headset placed around his neck. “Did you need something?”

The scene in front of you made you lose focus for a split second. You had never seen him before, and by personality description you expected many things except him being viciously attractive. And also a gamer, noted by the Overwatch screen on his computer. The thought left you in a split second, you only had one goal and it did not include sleeping with the manager to reach it. You learned that only works once and it’s never rewarding.

“I’m here for the secretary position? I figured since it’s early and unannounced I’d bring in a little something to eat.” A sweet and charmful voice oozed from your throat, foreign to your body unless it was summoned. The confused manager’s doe eyes lit up once they set intensely on the basket making way to his desk. “I hope you enjoy warm biscuits.” Before he could even question what was going on, you were already sitting across from him, placing your intricate resume in front of his grubby self, you were ready to snatch this job from his hands. He had already fallen victim to the biscuits. You could see the revival in his eyes as soon as he took the first bite. Butter and cheese were the key, but it was the mini weenies hidden inside that sealed the deal.

Jungkook didn't bother to offer it much of a glance. Instead he redirected his attention to you. “Are you good with computers and organizing?” Bread crumbs and cheese lingered on the corner of his lips as he spoke, you could have sworn some spittle came in your direction as well. Upon further inspection, the food stains on his sweats may have started a whole community of bacteria. Any office fantasy of getting railed by a manager quickly died with this individual, and some word of mouth started to make sense.

“Yes. Anything document and spreadsheet related I can handle, not to mention emails, and of course scheduling agendas-“

“And you made these? From scratch?” He held a biscuit in awe, and you couldn’t help but feel success in your future.

“I did.” You offered a soft, shy smile. Another desperate attempt to charm him for the job.

“Do you think you can bring them in on Monday mornings? Starting this Monday? Tell you what, I’ll raise you to $16 an hour if you do.” You choked on your saliva, instantly entering a coughing fit. He really might be off his rocker, but in this economy, who cares? Not you, because for simply baking Sunday nights you get an extra $40 a week. With this bread, you get your bread.

“I certainly can! It would be my pleasure.” “Great! Then let’s sign the paperwork and make it official.” He rummaged through his files to retrieve the contract. “Gosh, I can’t wait to tell the other managers all about my new beautiful secretary who cares for me, and cooks for me, and, who knows; maybe even have a secret romance with me?” There it was, the inappropriateness everyone talked about. Jungkook didn’t give you time to come out of your confused state. “Ha! I’m kidding! It’s just a joke. We’re professional. Professional. We’ll of course report our relationship to HR.” A noise seemingly from The Grudge escaped you. There was an ungodly uncomfortable silence before he decided to kill the awkwardness of the situation.“KIDDING AGAIN!”

You didn’t question the lacking interview, or how Jungkook was quick to hire you. It was the most unethical thing in the world and yet? You didn’t care. You were one step closer to financial stability, and that was all you could ever ask for. With the contract filled out and already added to the payroll, you had officially signed your soul over to the white collar world. Serving as the official secretary of Jeon Jungkook. He truly was an oddball, and somewhat inappropriate, but he didn’t give any indication of being an asshole of a boss. Too friendly and annoying, but you had the gut feeling he might just be a decent enough boss. Or at least not so much of an idiot that you can tolerate working for. Besides, the money’s good.

Walking out of and looking back at the building, your eyes spotted his office windows, with him behind, cheerfully waving you off as he ate the remains of the biscuits. A subtle reminder, you needed to prep your baking game.

---

With a more dressed down version of what you wore to the impromptu interview, you drove your car over to the office building. Only this time, pulling up to the parking lot as you were now an employee. Jungkook’s car was already there. A sleek, black Equus. In comparison to its ancestor, your Verna, it exuded upper management presence. He clearly was a successful 27 year old, and you aspired to be able to reach as much coin as he probably had some day. Really, all you ever wanted in life was money. Were you willing to work much for it though? Probably not, but you didn’t have a choice. It was time to get in gear and make up for lost time. 10 years of your life, in fact.

You stopped thinking about past mistakes before you could let them affect your first day. Taking the biscuits and purse in a hurried manner, you rushed up to the office. Only an hour earlier than the rest, but you still had things to prove, if only to yourself.

Upon arrival, Jungkook was busy fiddling on your computer. Documents and folders were neatly spread out on a corner of your desk, waiting to be filed and sorted.

“Hey Y/N, You’re early! I hope you don’t mind, I’m setting up your company email so you can quickly get started.” His quick fingers stopped abruptly, for just a moment, his hand reaching for the biscuits. “And thank you for these, I didn’t think you’d actually make them.” He cocked his head in surprise and took a bite before finishing setting up your computer and programs. The comment left you with an odd feeling.

“Of course I would, I promised it.” Truthfully you only agreed because of the pay raise, but you would still hold up with it. No complaints. “Why did you up my pay grade if you didn’t think so?”

“I don’t know, incentive? I figured this would be an easier way to have someone stay for longer than a week at least.” Shaking his head for only a brief second, he continued. “But there’s something about you that tells me you’re going to be the perfect fit here. You have potential, Y/N. That’s why I hired you.” What the fuck was he talking about, ‘Potential’? You were a 28 year old deadbeat, a failure and a degenerate according to your relatives. You had anything but potential. Noting the hesitation to answer, Jungkook changed the subject swiftly.

“And it’s done. I’ll give you a quick rundown of things on the machine and then we can work with organizing my schedule, I am so out of sync with this company and I haven’t a clue when my next meetings are.” With a clap, he stood up and motioned you to the seat. He continued to peruse through the biscuit basket, searching for the ‘cheesiest ones’.

After a tour throughout the company programs and where supplies and files were around the office, the other workers started to arrive in a timely fashion. Some didn’t bother to give you the time of day, but others decided to greet you as soon as they walked in. Particularly a few of the guys from accounting and sales were quite enthusiastic to greet you. If you remembered correctly, the younger pair of them were from Accounting; Jimin and Taehyung, they were really nice, a bit shy as were you, but very polite and warm. You watched as they sat at their corner and bickered slightly, but it seemed to be in honest fun. The one from sales, Hoseok, was the opposite in terms of shyness. He welcomed you with the most charming of smiles and emphasized that if you ever needed a helping hand around the office to not hesitate to ask him. He cheerfully chatted your ear for a few minutes giving you a small idea of what a day in the office might be. “It’s not that bad once you get used to it, you just need to give us a chance.” You heard his hidden pleas. Many people came and went from this place and their tongues never ceased to express their distaste for it. Even most of your coworkers gave off an air of annoyance with the place. You couldn’t blame them, but basing your experience on first impressions only, it could be worse. Only time will reveal the shithole everyone else claims this place to be.

It was 20 minutes past 8:00am and the once empty office was now filled and working. Jungkook came out of his office ever so often, glancing over the the desks, ‘tsk tsk tsk’ is all he ever spoke before going back behind his door. You thought to ignore his manner and focus on organizing his schedule based on the emails he forwarded you. He had plenty of meetings, webinars and conference calls to attend, and they were all scattered around. On your shared calendar, you added the event reminder and description for each and every one for the next month, even going an extra step to add reminders on your own calendar the day before, just to make sure he’s up to date.

A new email displayed on the screen, an impromptu conference call for Jungkook in 10 minutes labeled ‘URGENT’. You were about to head to his office to notify him, but you remained seated as the entrance door swung abruptly, startling you just enough to make you forget your name and the company you now work for. All you saw was a coat being placed on the rack next to you with an exasperated sigh escaping the core of the individual. Right away, it was clear that if there was anyone in the entire building that hated having to wake up early in the morning just to show up to work in this unfortunate place more than you, it was him. Like the majority of the employees, he looked straight up miserable, even behind dark colored sunglasses. The freshly made venti Iced Americano, the slow paced walk to his desk and his disregard to show up on time were, in your opinion, strong indicators of his likely hatred for his job.

Settled in his desk, he removed his shades. His narrow, cat-like eyes drew you in like magnets, there was no telling whether or not his iciness was natural, or a ruse to limit his interactions with the rest of the staff. Yet somehow they were still fitting for his rounder, chubbier cheeks. His lips were already pursed downward, but they seemed to curl even further and remain that way almost permanently as Jungkook peered his head out. You tried calling out to him, but your voice was muted by his own exclaims.

“Yoongi!” He shouted, you could say enthusiastically, towards the late addition in the office. He released another sigh, this time accompanied by an eye roll.

“Not now, Jungkook.” His voice was deep and low. Eyes never abandoning his monitor as Jungkook approached him.

Whatever conversation they were having was nothing but whispers and subtle head shakes. Yoongi was it? Didn’t seem in the mood for whatever chatter the manager kept going on about. You noticed bow everyone in the office was trying to work, but not being able to steal sudden glances from the conversation. Judging by those, especially Hoseok’s since he was sitting right at the situation, you assume they all had an idea as to what was unfolding. You, however, could only assume was an odd scolding in Jungkook’s manner for him showing up late.

A ringing alert brought your focus back to your own desk, the incoming call you guessed was from Corporate due to the email. Jungkook had previously requested that you warn him first before answering any calls from them, and you remembered what you were ready to do before Yoongi walked in. Not wanting to bring in any attention to yourself you debated quickly which was the best option, calling him over or going straight to him, but you didn’t even answer yourself before your legs started moving on their own.

“Jungkook.” You tapped his shoulder gently, and spoke softly. The young manager startled a bit, and you were unsure if the other man’s expression was relief or annoyance, but you let it go quickly.

“Yes? Oh! That reminds me. Everyone!” What you wanted to avoid was exactly what he gathered: attention.

“This is Y/N, office secretary. I want you all to make her feel welcome, be kind.” He kept going on one of his badly timed speeches until no one paid him any mind.

“Jungkook, you have-”

“Would you both excuse yourselves and talk elsewhere?” The deep voice that spoke seemed to command more authority than Jungkook did.

“Sorry,Y/N. Yoongi’s a bit on edge due to his divorce trial.” The last phrase he tried to utter as a whisper by leaning close to your ear, and although he made it sound like such, it was still loud enough for people to hear.

“Do you really have to tell people about my personal life? Where does it end with you?”

“I felt like I needed to excuse your attitude, she’s part of our family now anyways, she can know.”

Their bickering picked up again, Jungkook defending the reasoning for his declarations and Yoongi countering with how he always oversteps fine lined boundaries and doesn't have any common sense. Although you very much agreed with what Yoongi was saying that it was an invasion of privacy, you were still caught in the middle of their crossfire and all you wanted to do was inform Jungkook about the god forsaken call.

“JUNGKOOK.” Your raised voice silenced their bickering, and the room came to an onlooking halt. Anxiety started creep behind you due to shouting over your manager on your first day, causing flashbacks of previous outcomes due to this similar situation to roll like a montage in your head, but your patience was running thin.

“What, what is it?” Jungkook, unphased by the situation, cocked his head at you in slight confusion.

“You have a call from Corporate.” You maintained your stern tone, but you were wavering internally. His demeanor took a turn, eyes so wide you feared they would pop out.

“Did you answer?” Whispers gave an undertone of fear. With the phone still ringing in the background, you shook your head.

“Good. Tell them I’m out with a major client. I’m not here.” He hurriedly walked you back to the phone. The glint in his eyes says you should worry, but you swallowed and answered with the same feigned confidence you used for the interview.

“Bang-Lenzo, this is Y/N.”

You successfully got rid of the Corporate call in the morning, but you were unsure how long that might last given the urgency they requested it with. And Jungkook’s behavior regarding any calls from Corporate today, or the rest of the week from what he stated, was worrisome. It was a concern you’d tuck to the back of your head, it wasn’t your business anyways.

As the day went on, you saw that life in the office was quite eventful, so to speak. After the ordeal of Yoongi’s divorce proceedings this morning, and Jungkook avoiding Corporate like the Black Plague, an array of unusual things for a normal day to day office routine continued to happen.

Mainly, Jungkook was entirely distracting. To you, the staff and mostly to himself. He would constantly try to make conversation with anyone, and the topics were always painfully awkward. Anytime he was actually in his office, more time was spent playing Overwatch with Taehyung than doing any kind of work. Not to mention he eventually ventured over to the conference room, with Jimin and Hoseok in toe, for their “twice a day dancercise routine” as their official 15 minute break away from their computers.

If you thought the nonsense would end there, you were soon to be corrected. It in fact continued in the numerous times Taehyung and Jimin came by your desk asking for copies. And not even official work copies- they were asking you to print out different versions of invitational flyers for their ‘seasonal crop party’. To your surprise, Taehyung had inherited the only strawberry farm in the region due to his grandparents passing, not like you had bothered to ask anyways. The only question you cared an answer for was if Jungkook had approved of using office supplies for this. It shouldn't have shocked you like it did that the man himself had designed the flyer and organized such an event, but still.

Lunchtime couldn’t arrive quicker. Some of the staff beelined with their meals over to the lunchroom area, while the others went out to eat. You half expected Jungkook to take advantage of the lunchroom crowd for his shenanigans, but he opted for eating in his office with Jimin and Taehyung instead. You could hear their incessant planning murmurs as you passed by to heat up your meal.

“Y/N!” Jungkook exclaimed once he caught your movement. “If the others give you the cold shoulder, feel free to join us here for lunch.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I planned on eating at my desk,” You chose your next words carefully, feeling the party planners’ gazes. “But I’ll keep it in mind in case I get too lonely, thank you!” The soft smile that spread across your smile was enough to comfort them from the small rejection. They went back to their discussions and you headed for the microwave.

Peaking your head into the lunchroom, it was filled with the younger, unwelcoming faces from earlier. It’s not like you planned on sitting down and chatting with them, you were there just to heat up your lunch, but upon entry you noticed how their conversations volumes lowered all the way down to whispers and snickers. You focused your attention on the whirring noises and beeps the microwave offered as a mere distraction. It was a curse you carried for as long as you could remember. Any giggle, whisper, snicker, or anything of the sort you heard in your perimeter, you felt was directed at you. As if they could see the list of failures and misfortunes displayed on your back.

You took your bowl and offered the room a nervous smile and nod before leaving, hoping it came across as a ‘sorry to bother, enjoy your lunch’. As you exited the room, Hoseok, tailed by Yoongi, was heading with his food over to the conference room.

“Y/N, come join us if you want.” Hoseok was beaming, if the sun was human it would be him. Contrary to the one walking past him, not bothering to stop. He could be truthfully considered the dark side of the moon. Although with his back to you, you could make out his unrelenting scowl reflecting in the conference room’s glass wall. “Ignore him, he’s still mad over this morning.”

“All things considered, I can’t blame him. But I think I’ll pass.” Hoseok hooked his free arm around yours before you could continue.

“Nonsense, you shouldn’t cast yourself out on the first day.” In truth, Hoseok’s friendly manner and joyous attitude couldn’t be denied. You felt his genuine interest in making sure your transition into the office was a smooth one. In the room, Yoongi was already gulpin down his food, not bothering to glance up until he spoke.

“Shut the door so I can tell you…” Words escaped him, replaced by a sigh as he spotted your presence, and Hoseok’s sudden realization of what this lunch reunion entailed. Surely, they were meant to discuss the divorce proceedings, but Hoseok forgot upon trying to welcome you.

“Right… Y/N, rain check? Alone on your first day though...” He sighed as he flushed with embarrassment and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t worry,” that was directed more at Yoongi if anything, a small assurance accompanied by the subtlest of nods. The rest was for Hoseok, as a dismissive joke to calm his worries. “I’ll probably join the Crop Festers and their shenanigans.” He cocked his head in confusion, a sharp ‘hm?’ caught in his throat. You brushed it off, leaving them with a wave. Wishing them a nice lunch and closing the door behind you, it was unknown to you that the Crop Festers had overheard, and were expecting you at Jungkook’s door excitedly.

“So you’re joining us then?” Taehyung assumed overjoyed, and Jimin couldn’t hide his giddiness. Jungkook was at the back at his desk, shaking his head in tune with soft chuckles before waving you in. It was clear that there was no way to have an unbothered lunch for the next 45 minutes, so… You joined.

Tae, as he now urged you to call him, and Jimin made space for you between them. Rice, meats, noodles, and an array of veggies were spread across the desk, now along with your own addition of food and in no time you were all eating and sharing your meals. Jungkook even offered up the few remaining biscuits, causing Tae and Jimin to fuss over why weren’t they brought out sooner and how good of a cook you were. Now they were expectant for next Monday morning for a pleasant cheesy boost.

Unknown to your conscious self, you were having a nice time. Further into the lunch, you became more involved with the Crop Party planning, and were even getting a bit excited for the day to arrive. A paid work day for a strawberry picking party? Who could say no to that? You weren’t ready to admit it just yet, with it being the first day and all, but… You were starting to like this place, even if you weren’t ready to acknowledge it. Once lunch was over, and everyone was making their way back to their desks, they eyed you with slight annoyance as you walked out of the office along with Tae and Jimin, still laughing at one of Jungkook’s impressions of some of the staff. Unaware, Yoongi and Hoseok exchanged a suspicious glance. Who was to blame any of them? It was a first for them to see someone new being friendly, or accepting the office shenanigans as they transpired.

Afternoon was a milder version of what the morning turned out to be, everyone was calmer now, and as the hours passed you noticed they worked harder. Even Jungkook was filing reports and taking work calls, as long as they weren’t from Corporate. One of your last tasks was to send out some notice of change in policy emails to clients, it was the most time consuming, but it helped the remaining hours pass by in a flurry.

�� Bags started to be packed and coats began to be thrown on as the clock got nearer to 5:00pm. Everyone was ready to put an end to the odd Monday, and you could tell by their soft smiles and shy ‘See you tomorrow’s. Hoseok dropped by your desk with a “Lunch tomorrow, for sure!” before leaving and wishing you well. Yoongi followed behind him, not offering anything at all. More than likely still fussy over his personal issues being announced in the office. Jimin and Taehyung each went for a goodbye hug, as they were more than excited to have you aboard. Often they carpooled, you found out that they live together on the farm. After being friends for so long, they decided to run it together. Only you and Jungkook, who was still stuck in his office remained. With your things on hand, you peered through his window to give him a small wave which he returned, followed by pointing to the phone and making mocking expressions of talking too much. With a shake of your head, you went to clock out, putting an end to the first day on the job. You would call it a success, for it being your very first 8-5, and it deemed celebration. So once you hopped on your Verna, and peered out of the parking lot, your destination was clear: Slack Jack’s.

You had never once been there on a Monday, much less after 5:00pm. Late weekend nights were what you had grown accustomed to due to your old odd jobs here and there. But much to your surprise, the ambience at this hour was much more tranquil and up your alley than what you were used to. You hated crowds and loud groups of people, and there was none of that here. Eyes scanned the bar for your favorite and only owner, who upon noticing your arrival called you over to an empty stool up at the bar. Eager steps made their way over as he placed your favorite shot on the counter: a water moccasin. You paid no mind to the individual next to your stool as you sat down, eyes trained on the peachy, sweet and sour whiskey shot glass before you. Widened eyes stared, unknown to you, as you drank it in one big gulp, placing the now empty glass on the counter, snapping and pointing at Jackson with finger guns as you exclaimed “Hit me again”.

A smirk played on the corners of his mouth as he placed a second one just as you finished asking. Knowing your habits, he made two as soon as he saw you. “I’m guessing today went... ?” He was expecting you to tell him all about your day, as soon as you finished fighting off the burning feeling down your throat. It was always the second one that got you the most. Hissing for only a few seconds, you spoke.

“Honestly? Honestly honest? I can’t complain.” Alcohol was slowly starting to take effect on you as you rambled on. “At first I was kinda freaked out? Because everyone was kinda weird? OH! And then Jungkook decided to out a guy’s whole divorce or something?” In the background, next to you, someone cleared their throat as Jackson bit his bottom lip, trying to hold in a chuckle, but you went on. “I don’t know, it was weird. But like afterwards, it was pretty chill. Jungkook ain’t that bad. And lowkey? I can’t wait for the strawberry season, dude.” A snort escaped you as you thought back on the Crop Party. You couldn’t wait. Tae mentioned something about making fresh milkshakes, and right now you were wildin’ at the thought.

“So I’m guessing you’ve met Yoongi?” Jackson’s hand motioned you to look to your right. Lo and Behold, Mr. Divorcee was magically there, a citrus whiskey on the rocks in his hands. And that’s when it hits you, you have a loud mouth.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Eyes like a deer in headlights, pleading for forgiveness. Yoongi waved it off. You finally heard his voice without a hint of annoyance.

“It’s fine.” Bringing the glass to his lips, he took a long sip. Which reminded you.

“Jackson, may I please--”

“Have another?” He chuckled as he went to prepare a fresh shot. “Don’t get carried away tonight, though. You work tomorrow, remember?”

“Hey, I have self control. I won’t drink past 6:30, I swear.” To even prove such control, you didn’t rush to down the shot. Instead you tried to build a conversation with the man in charge of the drinks, but he cursed silently at a reminder.

“Fuck, excuse me for a sec. I have to call my parents.” You remembered him mentioning something about an upcoming anniversary as he rushed to the back, leaving you alone with Yoongi, a shot and your thoughts.

Allowing your mind to travel far for a moment, the waterfall of bitter memories with your family started to cloud your field of vision. Forgetting where you were and who was around, you brought your hands up to either cheek and gave yourself some quick, small smacks in an attempt to distract your tear ducts from doing their job. A groan escaped you as you reached for the shot in front of you, disappearing it in an instant. So much for self control.

The man next to you watched in awe. He already knew far more about you than whatever first impressions you thought you gave, courtesy of Jackson. But he was one to always doubt the extent of the things he said, and since forming odd suspicions of you at the office, he figured now was the time to see if anything added up.

“Escapism?” The sudden voice shocked you, and brought you back to reality. Another snort made its way out your nose, in an endearing manner.

“You can say that. No, you know what? Life is a bitch.” In your drunken manner, you broke. You vented, you ranted, and you rambled. You laid out your entire life in front of this man, this stranger, revealing more than what was necessary, but you couldn’t stop yourself. “And now here I am.” Fingers tapped the counter, antsy. Waiting for Jackson to come back and serve you yet another shot to calm down.

“I see, I’m sorry for all that. Things are looking up now, at least?” Yoongi shrugged, a winced expression since your story was still fresh in his mind. “But, if it makes you feel any better, I have some fucked up shit going on myself."

“Oh really? A divorce? Family exile beats loveless marriage any day, boy.” Another side effect of your alcoholism was straight up competitiveness. Even though it stung him, he couldn’t help but laugh. For him, it even felt like the first time in a while he had done so earnestly.

“My wife is pregnant.” Whiskey glass was brought back to his lips for a moment, barely touching them. “And it’s not mine.” He finished off the remainder of the glass, while you stared in silence, jaw dropped.

“Whoa, that sucks... How do you know though?” You brought your face closer to him, in curious intrigue, not knowing what personal space was; but he didn’t mind much as he inched in a bit closer to speak.

“I had a vasectomy.” A sighed escaped his core as he too revealed his life to a stranger. “Before we got married, we were clear that we didn’t want children. At least not for a long time, so I got the surgery done. If we ever wanted kids we would have a talk and take out time to decide how to go about it. But one day,” he shook his head, thoughts lost in the memory “she was very persistent that I go get the reversal done. Like, that I had to get it done that week. And I found that suspicious, so I pretended to get it.” His fingers now mimicked yours earlier, lightly tapping on the counter. “We waited the recovery time, had sex, and a few days later, she was pregnant. So I filed for divorce. Do I win now?” His usual serious pout curled into a smirk as you shook your head no.

“Nah, I still win. You can always get a new wife, I can never get new parents. I don’t make the rules, chief.”

The mood was starting to liven up, but the universe often threw curveballs in your direction. Text alerts distracted you from your office chatter with Yoongi, and again, you soured. It wasn’t often when you received messages from your cousin, but you never talked about the elephant in the room. This time, however.

‘Your dad’s been asking about you lately. Anything worth mentioning?’ You watched the words fade from the pop-up screen, and debated in silence. The shift was visible, and Yoongi caught it as it happened. “Is everything okay?” he asked. Instead of answering, you simply opened the chat and showed him the message. Grabbing your phone in his hands he stared.

“Do I answer? Do I just leave it for tomorrow? What could I even bother telling?” Complaints continued to spew out of your mouth, muting the light clicks of Yoongi’s rapid fingers working on the keyboard. You’re only brought back from your rambles when you feel him pressing your phone still in his hand, back into yours, a message already written out in the text box.

‘I just started at a new office job. Safe, secure. It’s working out.’ Short, simple and to the point. A quick nod was enough for him to press send. As he pulled away, leaving you with the chat which was instantly read, you expected to feel a bit better, but your worries and anxiety remained as your fingers drummed at a quickened pace, itching for yet another shot.

Right on cue, Jackson’s presence made its way to you. Catching your tells, his hands moved straight to the Schnapps.

“Actually, I think she might be better off with water instead.” You shot daggers at him, annoyed at such an assumption. “Same for me. You said you won’t drink past 6:30. I don’t make the rules, chief.” You couldn't grumble out much, because as much as you desperately wanted to be irresponsible and drown your sorrows in waves of alcohol, you had a new, very decent, job to uphold. And that required showing up sober.

The rest of the night went by pretty decently, ending with a new weird routine of going home early instead of waiting until Jackson finished closing off, to drag you all the way to his car. The nights you drove to your home from the bar were less than the ones he posted you up at his own apartment.

“You’re good to drive, right?” This time, it was Yoongi who was nice enough to walk you over to the beat up Verna at the end of the lot.

“Surprisingly enough, I am. Thanks.” Sticking the key into the lock, you jiggled it around. The only sure way to open the door these days. “What about you?”

“Considering I only had one glass of whiskey, I think I’m alright.” He motioned over to the Genesis next to you. “I’m gonna head out. Drive safe.”

You nod and make sure he's at least safe besides his car door before entering yours. Turning back briefly to look at you, your goodbye wave stops halfway as his words reach your ears.

“Lunch tomorrow.” Is all he says. he doesn't even bother waiting for a confirmation, he simply gets inside his car and drives away.

Starting up your car was always a hassle but you got it kicking in no time. As you pulled out of the lot, you spotted the Genesis still at the empty intersection. You flashed your headlights twice before heading the opposite direction, and from your rearview saw him continue on his way. Despite all the characters and particular personas inhabiting the living bodies of your coworkers, you couldn’t help but think: Yoongi's just might be the most intriguing to you after all.

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagines #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts x reader #office!au

67 notes · View notes

angeldolanx · 4 years

Text

Chapter 9. /- go on a road trip/

20.06.'19

In our friend group Ethan was the only one, who knew about our kiss.. or kisses. That was probably the most awkward, when we were stuck in a car for hours with Corinna, Daniel and Ethan and we tried our best to act normal with each other like nothing happened. The kiss was a few days ago, which gave us time to process what happened, but I was still a bit embarrassed next to him.

Our plan was to go on a road trip to San Francisco. The boys reached out to me and wanted me to join them to their trip to a festival next to the city. The original idea came from Daniel to go with the twins, but one of the boys immediately thought of me and of course I brought Corinna with me. Our plan was to go there today, spend the night there, go to the festival tomorrow and come home on monday, so basically I only needed to take one day from Veronica since mostly I never work on the weekend.

The heatwave was pretty crazy in LA. I even thought the spring weather was too hot for me, but as the days passed and we went closer and closer to the summer, the temperature was higher everyday. At the same time I was excited. I knew this summer can be something, that I always dreamed of and I can do stuff, that I wasn't able to do before.

The road trip was a dream too. I always loved to drive around, see new places but it was even better, because I was with my closest friends. With the friends, who probably weren’t completely normal. It was hard to them to figure out who's where gonna sit in the car. After we placed our bags to the trunk I took a big sigh while I listened to Ethan's and Corinna's fight over the front seat.

"Why is it so important to sit in the front, hun?" I asked Corinna. I started to lose my patience in the hot parking lot and I was ready to finally go.

"Because it's comfier" she rolled her eyes.

" You can switch later, but please let's go."

Thank god they were bored from the fight as well so Corinna ended up sitting in the back seat with me and Grayson, while Ethan set in the front seat and Daniel were our driver today. In the beginning of our trip there was a bit awkward silence in the back. Ethan and Daniel had a conversation in the front and music played softly in the background. That was the first time I saw Grayson since the kiss. Even though I tried to not make a big deal in my head about it, I still felt a bit embarrassed and I didn't really knew how should I act around him.

"What do you think?" showed Corinna her phone screen to me with a Tinder profile, which broke the silence.

"Too muscular" I said.

" Hell no, I just matched with him" rolled his eyes Corinna and I saw how Grayson's body shook a bit as he tried to not laugh on her reaction.

" And him?"showed another dude.

"He is fine" I said while I took his phone from her hand, to check him out more and Grayson leaned to me closer to see him too. Someone is really nosey.

"You just like him, because he is in a freaking leather jacket" laughed Corinna.

" What is up with you and leather jackets?" asked Grayson.

"I just like it on men, I think it's sexy."

"Do you wanna take a break in a mall bro?" asked Daniel which made all of as laugh in the car.

"Shut up " rolled his eyes Grayson while he pushed his hair to the side, it was probably something that he did when he was embarrassed but I found it really cute, how he just smiled slightly.

Almost three hours later Ethan was the one, who suggested that we should stop, take a break and buy something to eat. As soon as Daniel stopped the car in a gas station / cafe all of as was quite happy about the fact we finally get out from the car. Corinna, Gray and Daniel went straight to the store, while I went after Ethan to the small road next to us when I saw him grabbing his skateboard. First I just watched him how he road the board, but then I got all curious and excited.

"Can I try it?" I asked. He nodded and gave me his board, but as soon as he saw how unsteady I was he grabbed my hand.

"Wait, have you ever tried this?"

" Once maybe, I don't remember. It's gonna be alright, just hold my hand" I laughed slightly, meanwhile he just shook his head and I could see in his eyes that he wasn't too sure about my safe skate riding skills. But, he was cute. He grabbed my hand and let me push myself away with my leg and ran next to me. " Aah, I don't know how to turn" I screamed, then I jumped off with a loud laugh from the board before I landed in the grass.

"Bro, take her. I can't handle her" shook his head E, when he saw Grayson coming out from the store. He just grabbed the sandwitches from his hand and went straight to the side of the road to set down and eat.

" I can do this alone " I rolled my eyes, and picked up the board to put it back to the road so I can step on it again. As soon as I pushed myself away I put my other leg up too now.

" Put more weight to the side, where you wanna go" said Gray, so I tried to do it but before I could do anything the board stopped under me and I jumped off again. As I looked back to Grayson's face, I saw how he laughed at me sightly which made me smile too. I loved how his eyes sparkled up while he laughed. "Step up with both of your legs."

I was a little bit confused, but I did what he said. He immediately come behind me, and stepped up too with one leg, while he pushed us with the other.

"Try to balance" he laughed, while I just screamed and tried to move back and forth to find the balance but I wasn't able to do it so I jumped off and pulled him with me too, because he hold me by my waist. Basically his hands saved me from falling on my face as soon as my foot met with the ground. Our loud laugh filled the small road. Everytime I heard him laugh, it always made me smile so big. It could be in a video or in real life, he was like an angel.

"Can we go before you break a leg?"shouted Corinna from the car.

"Ah, you are so boring" I rolled my eyes and went back to the car with Grayson next to me.

Our road continued, but a lot quieter then before. Corinna got, what he wanted and switched with Ethan, so now I sat in the back seat between the twins. After I looked through all my social media apps on my phone I started to get bored and couldn't wait to finally arrive to our hotel. As I was deep in my thoughts while I stared out from the window I started to realize how Gray's hand rested on his own thigh first, but as he moved it further now he touched my thigh too with the side of his hand. He slowly moved his hand more, and when I didn't pushed him away he got breaver and grabbed my thigh. I really hoped he didn't noticed how his touch sent shivers all over my body and my muscles tightened a little. I looked up to his eyes and I saw how he smirked, when I pushed my legs together and his hold got a little stronger on my bare skin. When he grabbed his phone with his other hand I thought he is just texting to someone, but it surprised me, when my phone vibrated on my lap and showed his name on the screen with the massage.

Grayson: i wanna kiss u so bad

I bit my lip while I tried to hide my smile. I saw his eyes on me, that's why I didn't wanted to show him how I reacted to his massage. I felt a little tingly feeling in my stomach, and it just got stronger when I looked at him again and saw how her eyes were on my lips. He looked up to my eyes for a moment, but her attention went straight back to my lips. It felt like her eyes made fire in me, and I really tried to not think about how I would sit on his lap right now and how I would kiss him so passionately until we can't breath.

" Is the aircon on, the air is a little hot in here" said Ethan, which brought us back to reality.

" Yeah, but I put it higher then" replied casually Dan, and in that moment me and Grayson really tried to hide our laugh on Ethan's stupid comment.

Even though Ethan distructed our heated moment, for Grayson it was pretty easy to bring us back again. Basically I got used to the fact that her hand was still on my thigh, my muscles relaxed so I didn't pushed my legs together anymore. That was, what gave Grayson space to start to move his hand upper, and upper on my inner thigh till I closed my legs again in time. If I wouldn't closed them, he would have touch me in places, where I was not sure if the car was the perfect place with all of our friends around us. My whole body heated up again and I really wished if we were somewhere else on that moment. It was weird how there was this attraction between us every time we were next to each other, a attraction that no one really saw around us, but it was definitely there. The attraction that made me think of the dirtiest things, every time he slid into my thoughts.

To make sure our rest ride stays peaceful, I pushed Grayson's hand off from my thigh and as soon as I didn't felt his touch I took a deep sigh and already missed it, and wanted is back.

I couldn't even believed when we finally got into our hotel room around nine pm. The ride was already really long, and it seemed even longer because of the tension between me and Gray. Our room was cute, nothing too special. We’ve had a living room with a small kitchen, and two bedrooms for the boys and for me and Corinna.

After we ordered room service and had dinner we thought we sat out to the balcony, where the other's went out sooner and I stayed in the room and answered to my mom’s call first. It could sound childish, but it's important to me and my family too to at least talk once a day. I'm just so far away from them, of course they wanna make sure everything is fine. These calls alway fill me up with love, and they always misses me more and more everyday.

After I finished I went out too to the balcony, which was filled with loud laugh from them. I was happy that Corinna got on well with the boys. I would be probably a lot more uncomfortable without her on this trip. As soon as I stepped out everyone looked up at me and looked around because there wasn't more space. Daniel and Corinna sat on the sofa, Ethan in a chair while Gray laid down in the big armchair. Basically as soon as I stepped closer to them Grayson got my hand, and pulled me next to him, which made me laugh loudly. The armchair was big, but I still laid basically half on him because there wasn't more space. I mean it would have more, but Grayson didn't moved all the way to the side to give me more room.

" What? There isn't more place to sit" asked Grayson, when he saw everyone's surprised and suspicious face.

" Of course" said Corinna with a wild smile. She is gonna kill me, if she is gonna figure out that I didn't told her what happened between me and Grayson yet.

At this point I just listened to the conversations between the others. I was really tired, I was over of everything today and even had a migraine from the long road trip. I tried to slide lower in the armchair and turned more to the side to put my head on the pillows, when Grayson put his hand under my neck and pulled me closer to his chest. The whole situation was way too comfortable to me to move away. The scent of his deep muscular parfum and the way he draw small circles on my shoulder with his fingers calmed me down way too much. I totally zoned out and just enjoyed how close he was to me.

"Bro, I thought you two are just friends" said Dan. I saw how he kept staring at us and since I came out he wanted to say something about this situation. He was way too curious to hide it anymore.

"We are, I am just tired and have a migraine, so don't even try to mess with me" I replied before Gray could say anything. His body shook a little bit because of my dry answer. I really turned into the worst when I've had a migraine.

" Really you are the one who shocked on this, meanwhile you were in a friends with benefits relationship for two years " grinned Ethan, which made Daniel roll his eyes.

"Yeah, that's why. We looked like this in the beginnings, those were the best time man" he started to talk about it, and thank god it was not about us anymore.

We sayed out under the city's lights and sounds till midnight. The weather was still warm, the slight wind was quite nice after the long hot day. Corinna was the first who went to the room, and soon after Daniel and Ethan followed her as well. I just started to stand up too, when Grayson's hold tightened around me and didn't let me move from his chest.

"Stay a bit" he said. I looked up at him with a slight smile, as I rested my chin on my hands that were on his hard muscular chest.

"You are tired too, and tomorrow is gonna be a long day too".

"At least give me a kiss" he replied, when I started to sit up and looked back at him with a confused look.

"What? No" I shook my head, and even laughed a bit. Maybe that's how I tried to hide how he made me blush and all excited at the same time. As I stood up and stepped to the door, he followed me quickly and grabbed my hand to turn me back to look at him. He looked deeply in my eyes, while I smirked at him. He turned his face to the side to point on his cheeks, and my smile got even bigger. I was sure he didn't meant such a innocent kiss a few minutes ago, he just realized I'm not that easy. And because I was definitely more complicated than he thought I was, I stepped on my tippy toe to reach his face and placed a long kiss on his cheek, which touched his lips a tiny bit as well.

"You already did this once" he sighed, and I just laughed and stepped towards the door.

" Good night" I looked back, and went quickly to the room before my mind would fill my whole head with a thought of I going back for a real kiss. That's what I truly wanted and desired but I held myself back. He just made me feel some type of way with his words and how how he looked at me, that I never felt before. I never in my life had that strong crave for a man before. Everytime he was near me I felt myself different. Next to him I felt like I am a confident woman. I enjoyed his touches on my skin, I just wanted to rep him around my fingers and basically learn from him how it is really, when the pure desire controls everything between two people.

- go on a road trip √

17 notes · View notes

crinkled-emotions · 5 years

Text

Temperatures Rising || Maxi x Harrison (Bondi Rescue)

I was watching a really recent episode (season 14 somewhere?) and poor Harrison got sized up by this guy who wanted to bash his brains out simply because Harrison approached him about being creepy toward a 15 year old girl. Huge respect to Harrison for being so good about that situation by the way, he handled it really well. Anyway, so this guy didn’t end up beating up Mr Reid but I wondered what would have happened if the guy had tried to. Tommy’s a cool bloke too, so no beef! Tommy’s a younger guy and Harrison has a little more experience under his belt so it makes sense as to why he would take the situation into his hands. Anyway, Harrison gets beat up and Maxi’s there for the aftermath. What a sweetheart.

The cameras surrounded Tommy, Harrison and the irritated Brazilian man, the crew completely silent as Harrison tried to talk him down. Tommy was lowkey tucked behind Harrison, done deliberately by the older lifeguard just in case things got violent. With the cops nowhere to be seen- dealing with another situation- Harrison knew he could make a citizen’s arrest, or he could talk the guy into leaving the beach without any interference from the other boys in blue. Jesse had radioed to tell them the cops would be on their way shortly, but with the guy becoming more and more violent Harrison wasn’t sure he could wait that long. Besides, if the guy wanted to he could head for the hills in a split second.

“Why are the cops coming?”

“You know why mate, you can’t be touchin’ minors like that.”

“But why?”

“Mate, you need to understand that you’ve done something wrong.”

“I simply saw a beautiful girl on the beach, is that a crime?”

“Worse than that, you kissed her and threw another into the ocean without her consent.”

Harrison was sweating from stress and the 47°C heat, but he tried to focus on what was going on. This guy, while small and nimble, could probably pack one hell of a punch- Harrison had very quickly learned not to underestimate people who looked unassuming. Just the fact this guy had thrown a girl into the water was enough to keep Harrison aware. Tommy was hiding behind him still, a half step to the left though so Harrison could move if needed.

------------

Another ten minutes pass. Bystanders are watching with anxiety rippling through the crowd, but Tommy steps up to wave them off. Most leave in search of cool air, ice cream or something cold, but a couple hang around. Harrison has his eyes focused on the offender, irritation flooding his veins. Where the fuck are the cops when you need them?

Jesse radioed in again as nerves started to run through Harrison.

“Jesse to Hux, the cops are probably another ten-ish minutes. If you’re worried he’s gonna do a runner I’ll send Hoppo down to escort him, but at the moment we’re just gonna have to watch him. Are you good to do that?”

“Huxy to Jesse; I should be okay. Tommy’s down here, is he okay to be here despite only being a trainee technically?”

“Jesse to Huxy- Tommy’s good mate, you’ve done this before so you know what to do. If you’re worried about him put him on crowd control, I can see the people around you from here.”

“Huxy to Jesse; Cheers mate.”

Harrison turned his radio down, clipping it back on to his belt. The offender was watching him right back, clearly annoyed at being held without an explanation. Harrison could see he was becoming more agitated, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold him on the beach.

“Look, mate, I’m really sorry about the delay, apparently the cops are tied up on the street, so we’re gonna have to just hang here a little longer.”

“I’ve done nothing wrong!” The man yelled, grabbing Harrison by the shirt. Tommy appeared, about to get between them when Harrison stopped him.

“Go get Jesse, tell him to get Hoppo and the cops down here asap.”

Tommy bolted for the buggy, peeling out of the crowd and heading for the tower. Harrison watched for a few seconds then turned back to the situation at hand, wincing when the guy tugged his shirt again.

“I did. Nothing. Wrong. Let me go!”

“Mate this is beyond my control-“

“-I’m not your mate!”

Harrison blinked; just in time for the guy’s fist to come into connect with the lower left side of his jaw. He fell to the boiling sand like a sack of kiwi fruit (pardon the pun), grasping his cheek. He knew without feeling that his nose was bleeding, and he stood after a moment to see the guy had taken off. Innocent bystanders had been shoved, but a couple pointed in the direction the guy had gone. Harrison thanked them, taking off. His radio on his belt crackled, before Tommy’s voice sounded.

“Tommy to Harrison, me and Jesse are on our way but Harries can’t see you anymore; is everything good?”

Harrison panted, speaking into his radio as he dashed.

“Harrison to Tommy and Hoppo; the guy has taken off, I’ve still got an eye on him. Hop, make a citizen’s arrest?”

“Go for it Harrison, get him off the street if you can. The cops are nearby; I’ll let them know what’s going on. Have you got witnesses?”

“Yeah, uhhhh, half of the beach at least?”

Hoppo laughed, before he became serious.

“We can see you Harrison, we’ll be there soon.”

“I got him, go and cut him off on the street just in case I can’t get there in time.”

“Tommy to Harrison; I’ve gotcha mate.”

The radio clicked off and Harrison willed his overheated, exhausted body to keep going in pursuit of this guy, watching out for tourists who had no idea what Harrison was doing. His legs ached, his lungs burned, and all he could think about was hitting up the apartment complex pool with Maxi later. Harrison blinked, and all of a sudden his target was close enough. Another couple paces and he could get him. To one side he could see a cop motorbike and to the other one of the beach Can-Am’s, but that wasn’t important to him in the moment.

------------

The guy turned behind him and spotted Harrison, eyes widening. At just the right moment Harrison made a heroic leap, grabbing the guy by the hip and pulling him to the paved ground. They slid a metre, before stopping. When the offender made an attempt to get up Harrison pinned him to the ground, turning him on to his stomach and using his shirt as makeshift handcuffs that would work long enough for the cops to do the real deal.

“Harrison!”

With the ordeal over Harrison’s legs became wobbly when he tried to stand, and he promptly collapsed again. Hoppo and Tommy were there soon after, helping him up. An ambulance rolled up and Harrison looked between the two lifeguards in confusion, chest still heaving.

“I don’t- I don’t understand- why- I’m good, I swear…”

“It’s better to be safe than sorry. That was incredible Harrison, well done. Take tomorrow off, okay? I’ll drop your stuff at your place after work.”

Hoppo’s blue eyes radiated care and paternal warmth, something Harrison hadn’t felt since he left home to start lifeguarding. He only had Maxi and the boys on the beach, but with Hoppo there Harrison realised he felt safe. His eyes began to close from exhaustion, and Hoppo turned to the paramedics.

“I’m coming with him.”

------------

“Is there anyone who can take him home, someone he can stay with?”

“His uh- his partner’s at home, I’ll give them a call.”

The doctor nodded, checking Harrison’s vitals once more.

“Okay, I’ll have someone come in and stitch him up, then he should be okay to go home. If he starts vomiting or becomes disoriented bring him back in straight away.”

“No worries. Thanks, doc.”

The doctor left the room and Hoppo turned to Harrison, who was asleep in the bed. The side of his body that had slid on the paved ground when he caught the guy was gashed pretty badly, from his shoulder to his knee and down the offside of his foot. Luckily it seemed the excessive heat from the day’s soaring temperatures had cauterised most of the bleeding, but a couple of the wounds were large enough to need a couple stitches to aid with healing. He also had bruising around his right eye from where he’d been punched, the bruising a green-brown along his jawline. There was a gash on the other side where he’d bumped his head, but the doctor had cleared him of concussion so far.

Hoppo sighed; it was time to call Trent.

------------

“Hop, I haven’t heard from you in forever! What’s new mate?”

“You won’t want to have heard from me after this. I’m not sure if it’s on the news yet but Harrison did something incredible today that could potentially have saved quite a few girls from a creep on the beach. In the act of catching this guy, he copped a couple… battle scars.”

“Shit! Is he okay?”

Maxi’s voice deepened, conveying concern for Harrison.

“He needs stitches and he’s got a few bruises; he’ll be pretty sore and sorry for the next couple days but… he’s going to be okay. It was something from a movie Maxi; truly something I haven’t seen in ages.”

Maxi hummed; he could sense there was something else his boss wanted to tell him.

“The docs said he’ll be clear to go home once he’s had the stitches; I have to get back to work, but I was wondering if you could pick him up?”

“Yeah- yeah, yeah course. I’ll be there in a couple minutes, I have a day off; I’m not even on call at the station.”

“Thanks Maxi; he’ll be glad you’re there. He’s sleeping right now, but is there anything I can pass on to him for you?”

“No, no that’s cool. I’m just jumping in the car Hop; I’ll be there in a bit.”

“No worries Trent; take it easy and keep the aircon up high.”

Maxi laughed, and through the phone Hoppo heard him turn it up high.

“Gotcha Hop. See you soon.”

------------

Voices whispering in the room woke Harrison from his sleep and he groaned, his good arm going over his eyes as he tried to adjust to the bright lighting. The voices stopped abruptly, and then he felt someone sit on the bed beside him.

“I gotcha Hux, I gotcha. Take it easy.”

“T-Trent?”

Harrison tried to open his eyes to get a glance, but the harsh lights made his head hurt and he cried out, burying his head into Maxi’s side. Maxi sighed, running a hand through Harrison’s sun-bleached hair. The tips, usually brown like the rest, were now borderline platinum blonde from being at the beach a majority of the week. Maxi had to admit, it looked like Harrison had tried frosted tips.

“You’re okay, it’s just me and Hop. Deep breaths; focus on bringing air in then out.”

Harrison’s hand came up to grab Maxi’s, and they sat there for a moment while Harrison calmed down. Hoppo had found the light switch and dimmed it so Harrison wouldn’t be so badly affected, earning a grateful smile from Maxi. The eldest lifeguard left the room, closing the door behind him so Maxi and Harrison could have some time together.

------------

“Okay, I’ve signed the discharge papers so you’re good to go. Trent, you know when to bring him back?”

“Yeah doc, I gotcha. Thanks.”

With Maxi’s help, Harrison got off the hospital bed and stood, wincing.

“Okay yeah, I can’t wait for the pool.”

The doctor smiled, doing a final check over Harrison’s file.

“Looks like you’re good to go. If you have any questions, either of you, there’s a 24 hour clinic available on the Bondi Junction road.”

Maxi hummed, wrapping an arm carefully around Harrison’s gashed hip, giving his good one a nudge.

“We’ve got this, right Hux?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna be fine. Thanks for this doc, really appreciate it. The cameras will probably be here in half an hour or so.”

Harrison was clearly exhausted but he still had the twinkle in his eye that made Maxi smile, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“C’mon, let’s get going. You need the pool, a shower, and some aloe vera.”

Harrison nodded, using Maxi as leverage to walk.

------------

In the car Maxi kept his hand on Harrison’s thigh, making gentle circles as he drove. Harrison fell asleep pretty much the second he had his seatbelt on and slept all the way back to their apartment. Maxi went between checking him and keeping an eye on the road for the entire fifteen minutes, making sure Harrison wasn’t in any more pain than he already was. Just as he was pulling into the parking area Harrison groaned, shifting his head away from the bright outside to the darker inside. His eyes opened and he squeezed Maxi’s hand, Maxi glancing at him mid-park.

“You good?”

“Mm. Jus… tired. Can we skip the pool?”

“Course. How ‘bout the shower?”

Harrison nodded, eyes closing again. Maxi chuckled, turning off the car- yes; he could park and talk at the same time. He was just that talented. He grabbed everything the doctor had suggested from the passenger seat floor and rubbed Harrison’s shoulder, making sure he was awake.

“I left the aircon on for ya.”

“Thanks Trent.”

------------

With one arm around Maxi’s shoulders and the other carrying the pharmacy bag Harrison made his way into the elevator and through their door to the couch, pretty much collapsing straight away. Maxi disappeared into the kitchen and Harrison heard the clinking of ice hitting glass, before he reappeared with that glass full of ice and water.

“Doc says you need to keep drinking so you don’t get heatstroke. Keep it slow.”

Harrison sent Maxi a withering look as he took a sip before placing the glass on the coffee table. He sat up, pulling Maxi on to the couch beside him. He took his boyfriend’s hand, giving it a squeeze.

“I’m okay, y’know. We deal with assholes all the time.”

“I don’t know about you, but assholes don’t punch lifeguards just trying to do the right thing.”

“Maxi-“

“-Harrison, when Hoppo called me I was really scared you’d been really hurt. Just let me freak out for a second, since you’re not.”

Harrison fell quiet and Maxi doubled over, head in his hands. He sucked in a deep breath, releasing it after a couple of seconds before he straightened and pulled Harrison into his arms.

“Yeah; you scared me, but you’re okay. That’s what’s important.”

Harrison hummed, nuzzling against his boyfriend’s neck.

“I’m gonna be pretty busted up for a couple days; Hoppo gave me the rest of the week off to recover.”

“Awwww nooooo, poor Hutz,” Maxi teased, giving Harrison a fake pout. Before he could say anything, Harrison’s lips were on his, and he instinctively closed his eyes. Damn; even with a half busted lip and some face bruising, Harrison was still a good kisser. They pulled apart, and Maxi brushed his thumb over Harrison’s bruised cheek. He winced, and Maxi pulled him into a hug.

“I’m glad you’re okay. Really glad.”

“I was scared for a second there; I didn’t know what was going to happen.”

Maxi glanced at Harrison who had moved to rest his head against his shoulder, the pair stretching out on the couch. Even though it was way, way too hot to do anything even remotely close to snuggling they still sat together on their couch that was probably too small for this, a mess of arms and legs and abs. Every time though, Maxi found Harrison on his lap and Harrison seemed to like that- for being someone willing to speak up when things go to shit, Harrison was quite the cuddler too. Maxi kissed the not-bruised side of his head, sighing.

“How about you get some sleep, and I’ll watch the cricket?”

“Mmm… tells me when we bat.”

Just like that Harrison was drifting off to sleep, one arm wrapped around his stomach while the other had found Maxi’s shorts to take hold.

“Thanks,” he murmured. Maxi glanced down with a smile, and then turned up the air conditioning. If Harrison was going to stay there, that aircon was going to work overtime.

#Bondi rescue #Bondi Rescue Maxi #Bondi Rescue Trent Maxwell #Trent Maxwell #Maxi #Harrison Reid #Bondi Rescue Harrison #Bondi Rescue Fanfiction #rarepair

48 notes · View notes

honeymoonjin · 5 years

Text

enjoy your stay - chapter seven

A/N - Just for now, I’m trialing not putting in chapter links on this post to see if it helps more people see it since the tumblr search function cuts out posts with links. If there’s not a big difference, I’ll put them in later, but to see the first chapter if you’re a new reader, please click on my blog and check out my masterlist.

Warnings for sexual content in this chapter: public sex, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk, mild degradation, dom!Jimin but also slight sub!Jimin (you’ll see).

ENJOY YOUR STAY ↳Boss!Namjoon, Chef!Jin, Receptionist!Hoseok, Bellboy!Jimin, Bartender!Jungkook, Accountant!Yoongi, Photography student!Taehyung ↳Some inappropriate language and cursing. Later chapters have sexual content.

SUMMARY ↳Working the graveyard shift at a hotel isn’t the most exciting job in the world, but your coworkers are certainly happy to have you here.

CHAPTER SEVEN ↳You have a new roommate in your apartment, and you just hope he doesn’t burn the place down while you’re out on your road trip with Jimin.

It only took the energizer bunny a couple hours to move his stuff into the spare room and have some of the lunch (or what was your equivalent of a midnight snack) you made for him before he was acting like he owned the place.

You stood beside the couch, staring in complete bewilderment as he furiously smashed keys on his computer, headphones blasting echoes of gunfire around the small apartment and feet resting on the edge of the coffee table.

He had yet to take notice of you standing there, too hyper-focused on the flashing graphics on his screen. You suddenly felt the urge to call up his parents and ask them how the fuck they did it.

It was time for the two of you to leave for work, and while he was in his uniform, a slick black shirt and pants and his apron wadded up by his freshly shined shoes, but while you were ready to walk out the door, he was immersed in a shootout on your living room couch.

Was it your responsibility to get his attention? Did his parents tap him on the shoulder and send him on his way? You sighed and bent down to wave a single hand in front of his face.

He blinked wildly, and even had the gall to dry and dodge your hand and keep playing for a few seconds before he really paid any attention to what was going on.

He let out a little gasp and paused the game, tossing his laptop on the couch and bounding over to the door. “I have so much more time for activities, noona! This was the best idea ever!”

You flicked him your most convincing smile and took him outside to get in the car. You were beginning to think maybe it wasn’t the best idea ever.

After the two of you arrived back home after an exhausting night, squinting at the rising sun and trying not to scuff your shoes by dragging your feet, you sat him down at the kitchen island and told him some ground rules.

You were leaving in an hour or so to go to Jimin’s house, where he would take you to his competition and back again for the day, and you wanted to make sure Jungkook didn’t burn the apartment down in your wake.

“Okay, no oven while you’re gone, gotcha. Can I use the barbeque?”

You frowned. “I don’t have a barbeque.”

“Yeah, right there.” He gestured, and you followed his gaze.

Your mouth fell open. “You mean the stove?”

“Whatever you want to call it, yeah.”

“N-” You had to stop and take a calming breath before you could continue. “Do not use the stove, Jungkook. You have microwave rights in this house, okay? Anything more advanced than the microwave, don’t touch it.”

“Ah, this is gonna be so sick. Mom and dad never let me stay at home by myself for more than a couple days.” He rocked the stool back and forth and glanced around the apartment. It was basically just two bedrooms, a bathroom, and one big space where the lounge, kitchen and laundry all resided. That didn’t seem to faze him, and you felt like it was probably for the best that he had limited space to roam while you were gone.

“I’m not going to be gone a few days, I’ll be back early next morning.” Namjoon had allowed both you and Jimin a night off for the occasion on the condition that if Jimin won, he had to thank his amazing boss in his speech. Potentially Namjoon didn’t realize it wasn’t the Grammys or the Oscars, and the winners didn’t hold a trophy and give speeches, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, or so Jimin claimed.

The two of you would camp out at a hotel in the town over, one Namjoon personally recommended, and head back early the next morning so that you could sneak a nap before work on the Sunday night.

Surely if the doe-eyed kid in front of you could be trusted with an entire shelf of alcohol, he could be trusted to keep your apartment undamaged for twenty-four hours. God, you really hoped so.

Jimin’s house was pretty close to the apartment block, and when you pulled into his driveway he was already sitting on his porch, two massive suitcases propping him up.

The shock that came with seeing him for the first time in casual clothes almost made you crash right into his house when your foot came down on the accelerator instead of the brake, but once you safely parked, and he rolled his luggage over to you, you took the time to fully appreciate it.

He was just wearing a relatively loose white tee and a pair of high waisted jeans rolled up at the ankles, but he looked so good it was almost a crime to stick him in all-black while on duty. The whole bellboy schtick was cool, but the dark colors really took out all the definition. His shirt was thin enough that you could just about see through it when the sun shone right, and you busied yourself with the aircon buttons to avoid drooling.

He seemed a million times more comfortable in regular clothes, and when he hopped into the passenger seat, he gave you a blinding grin. You did your best to return it, but you were more than a little distracted by the way he rested the ankle of one leg over the knee of his other, pulling his jeans taught across his thighs, and the way his hands, now covered with several silver rings of various sizes, squeezed at the muscle absentmindedly.

Or maybe not so absentmindedly. His smile turned mischievous and his eyes glittered.

With a start, you realized he had asked you a question. “Yes, absolutely,” you stammered.

His tongue shot out to wet his bottom lip. “I asked you how you were. But if you’re that eager to get on the road, let’s go.”

You laughed nervously and backed out of the driveway.

“So, what’s your dance like for the competition?” you asked a few minutes later. “Do you make up all the dance moves yourself?”

You had furiously kept your eyes on the road this whole time, but even now you could feel his intense gaze on you. “It’s called choreography, and yes. I’ve been practicing for a few weeks to get it perfect.”

“Do you have a costume?”

“Why, would you like to see me in a leotard?” You spluttered a little, but he chuckled heartily before continuing. “Man, you really know nothing about dance, do you?”

“I haven’t actually seen a proper dance in real life before. Just never got the chance to, I guess.”

“So, I’ll be your first, then?” His tone was deliberately provocative, and the warm palm that came down to rest on your knee certainly didn’t help you concentrate on the road either.

You coughed a little and laughed nervously. “You can turn on the radio, if you’d like.”

“No, thanks.”

“Oh- Okay.” He waited for you to continue your poor attempts at small talk, but you didn’t know what to say anymore. His hand fell away from your leg.

It took almost half an hour of strained silence before you spoke up again. “Look, I’m really sorry if I’m making things awkward. I don’t want to ruin your day.” “Don’t apologize. My day is getting better every minute I spend with you.”

“Well,” you quipped, “maybe I should start charging.”

“I’d pay.”

“I don’t think you could afford me, Jimin. I’m not as cheap as Hoseok.”

He let out a laugh, the both of you relieved that he weird tension in the vehicle had evaporated. “There must be some other way I can repay you,” Jimin simpered in a high-pitched tone.

You snorted. “You can’t offer sexual favors as payment for sexual favors, you idiot. That’s a pretty poor business model.”

“I disagree. I scratch your back, you scratch mine. It’s a very common practice.”

“It’s only worth my time if you give me something that I couldn’t give myself. You’d have to show me something new, otherwise what’s the point?” You risked a glance over to the passenger seat and caught Jimin staring right at you, with a dark look in his eyes.

“There are many things I’d love to show you, baby,” he vowed in a sultry tone.

You were hoping he didn’t see the way your hips shifted, and thighs clenched, but his quiet chuckle told you he probably had.

When you arrived, Jimin directed you straight to the venue where the competitions were being held.

The whole affair was rather dull, at least for you, as he waited in line forever to get forms to fill out, went back in line to hand in the form and get a numbered sticker to slap on his shirt, practiced for a couple hours while you scrolled aimlessly through Twitter, sat through about twenty other dancers before he even went on, and by the time he did it was the sheer power of your horniness that kept your eyes open and focused on him.

There was something magical and extra-seductive about seeing him dance in person. His videos were good, but the flat angle couldn’t really compare to the rolls and turns playing out in three glorious dimensions. It was pure luck that had you swallowing your last gulp of water before he dropped onto his back and thrusted up into the air twice in time to the music. You were certain that if there was anything in your mouth other than your own tongue, you would’ve choked on it at the sight.

Jimin placed third, which, while still an impressive achievement, your vagina found incredibly ridiculous. You drove him, gleaming with sweat and grinning his head off, to the hotel, but he insisted on going in to reception himself.

You acquiesced and waited in the parking lot until he returned.

“So crazy,” he proclaimed, “there’s only one room left, and it’s only got one bed!”

You take a couple seconds to make a show of silently looking around the deserted carpark.

He smacks his lips and laughs a little. “Anyway, let’s go on in.”

The hotel room is nice, but it’s beyond cramped, and you wince as you see the single bed pushed up against the wall. “I’m not doing this,” you say to him as he unloads his suitcases.

“Doing what?”

“I’m not going to do the whole ‘oh, what a shame, we’re stuck in the same bed, let’s have sex’ cliché. It’s unsexy and overused. Work harder, Park Jimin.”

He pauses for a moment, hovering by the foot of the bed. “The lady doesn’t like clichés.”

“No,” you reply flatly.

He sighs but continues setting up the room. Once he’s done, he wipes his palms on his jeans and turns to you with a fresh smile. “Want to go for a dip in the pool?”

You glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Almost eight in the evening. “Can we get something to eat first?”

He shrugs. “The restaurant is buffet-style.”

“Fuck, that’s hot.”

As you had insisted, the two of you didn’t do the hotel room sex cliché that night. You top-and-tailed, one pillow each, and tried to avoid kicking each other in the face.

Both of you were early risers since you hadn’t actually slept during the night in a long time. Jimin took an early morning swim; you, who hadn’t thought to bring a swimsuit, lounged on the warm concrete, swirling your toes across the surface. As much as Jimin insisted pool-sex was definitely sexy and definitely not a cliché, you didn’t fuck then, either, and while keeping your dignity was morally admirable, your metaphorical blue balls made you irritable on the drive home.

Jimin can feel the tension but does nothing to stop it. In fact, you can tell that him offering to drive is just so that you can stare at him more. He fiddles with the rings on his fingers, stretches his neck so you can see his Adam’s apple bob up and down, and clenches the steering wheel so that his biceps flex.

He knows exactly what to do to ramp up your sexual frustration, and he laughs every time you wriggle around in your seat, helpless to do anything about it. Now that you’ve left the privacy of a hotel room, you’ll just have to sit and wait.

You gaze forlornly out the window in a last-ditch attempt to not get too riled up, but a sign that flashes past causes you to gasp.

Jimin glances at you, eyebrows raised. “What is it?”

“Gas station 1km away. Can we pull over?”

“Do you need to pee?”

“Don’t start playing coy now, Park Jimin. I need to fuck you or I’m going to go insane.”

He chokes, murmuring a low ‘fuck, finally’ under his breath before pulling into the gas station as it approaches.

The station itself, much to your dismay, is packed with cars filling up before they head to work for the morning. Instead of parking up front, however, Jimin pulls around behind the building to where the crusty old bathroom is.

It’s pretty out of view, and clearly not in high demand, but you whine at the thought of sharing bodily fluids while in that scummy concrete block.

Jimin hears you and tuts. “Should’ve let me fuck you in the hotel room. Or in the pool.”

The moment the car is in park you jump out and follow him into the bathroom, too aroused to care about anyone seeing you go in together.

The door locks behind the two of you and you whine again. The floors are filthy, and the sink has a concerning green sludge running down the side. “Good luck showing me something new in this hellhole.” You grab the ends of your shirt and lift it over your head.

He grins but doesn’t hesitate before skipping straight to unbuttoning his jeans and tugging the zip down. “It leaves me room for improvement for next time,” he reasons, “now take your pants off.”

You’re too startled at his urgency to protest, and once you get the ends past your sneakers, your jeans are crumpled up on the floor beside your shirt before you know it.

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “Panties.”

You huff a little, sad that he didn’t once comment on the racy black number before telling you to take it off. A little slower, you slip off your panties and take a little extra care to make sure they don’t touch the slightly damp floor and rest on top of your other clothes instead. While you’re at it, you unclip your bra and do the same.

You stand before him in nothing but your shoes, and Jimin, still fully dressed, looks you over, running his gaze over every inch of skin.

You impatiently strut up to him and push at his chest until he allows you to walk him back against the wall.

His eyes haven’t left your body, but when his back hits the concrete he sighs out contentedly. A hand snakes around you, resting on your lower back and pulling you flush against him. The cold metal sends shivers up your spine and your fingers curl up around handfuls of his shirt.

His other hand reaches down to latch on firmly to your ass, and he cranes down to nuzzle into your neck, causing another wave of violent shudders to wrack your body.

While it’s a relatively sunny day, this bathroom block is in shadow behind the main station, and it’s too cold to be naked and not doing anything. You wriggle in his grasp, brushing your chest against the fabric between you until your nipples harden into peaks, more and more sensitive as they stiffen.

“God,” he whispers into your neck, so close that his lips brush against your skin, “I can’t fucking believe you didn’t let me do this in the hotel room.”

You laugh, but it’s more breath than sound, and the only heat that remains is the one blazing between your thighs. “Stop making excuses and just fuck me already. I’m starting to get a little concerned that the whole slutty bellboy thing is overcompensat-”

He doesn’t let you finish your thought, using the hand on your ass to lift you up onto him. You instinctively wrap your legs around his hips, but you don’t have time to process anything before he’s rolling his crotch up into yours in one smooth motion, the coarse fabric of his jeans catching on your swollen clit. “Ah!” Before you can think of muffling the sound, you’re crying out and jerking your hips inwards.

The arm behind your back is the only thing holding you up, and his other hand is clutching firmly onto your ass, so Jimin tips his head down, staring at his crotch before glancing back up with you, pupils blown with lust. “Care to do the honors, baby?”

You acquiesce, reaching down between you two to dip a hand underneath his jeans, bypassing his underwear completely and lifting his heavy cock out of his pants. It’s pretty average in terms of length, but the girth more than makes up for it. Fuck, you want it inside you.

“You know,” you state conversationally, although your voice can’t be much louder than a whisper, “the baby nickname is getting a little old.” You rub the palm of your hand roughly down the underside of his dick, batting your eyes innocently as he curses and chases your touch with his hips. “Maybe you could call me something a little hotter.”

He hums in satisfaction when you spit into your hand and begin to steadily pump him, mouth hanging slightly open in a sinful pout. His lips quirk up into a lazy smile. “Yeah? Would you like it if I called you a slut? A dirty whore that will fuck any of her coworkers if they ask nice enough? I’m sure a chef has talented hands, but you can’t beat a dancer’s hips.”

He lifts you up a little more and begins rutting the side of his cock against your slick lips, but your head tilts back and eyes fall shut at the thought of Jin using his gifted fingers to get you off. He probably had an amazing palate, too. You wonder if he’d like the taste of your-

“Fuck, you are a little slut, thinking about someone else when I’m right fucking here.”

You sigh dreamily and tip your head back down to him, trying to school your expression into something that resembled disappointment. “If I were you, I’d take that as a sign that I wasn’t doing a very good job.”

His eyes darken and the arm around your back slides down to your ass to join the other. You wobble, almost falling backwards before you link your hands around the back of his neck and stare at him in disbelief. You feel him shifting his stance a little below you before his mouth stretches wide in a devious grin. “I’m going to make you wish you never said that.”

Your eyes widen and you throw your head into his neck for more stability a second before he lifts your hips clean off of him, takes a moment to line up, and drops you down onto his cock without mercy.

It doesn’t go deep enough to hit your cervix, but the delicious stretch rips a guttural moan from the back of your throat, and you arch your back, to feel him move inside you.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” he asks in a gravelly tone. “You like my cock buried inside your tight cunt?” The image of Jimin in his bellboy uniform, teasing you and flirting playfully feels like a world away from this Jimin, balls deep inside you, whispering the filthiest things inside your ear. “I’m feeling extra generous today, so you’re going to be a good little girl for me and take everything I have to give you, won’t you?”

You hum contentedly, enjoying the feeling of his cock pushing up against your g-spot when you tilt your hips just right. Jimin growls, and that’s your only warning before he pulls a hand around to your front and flicks your clit painfully. You cry out, foot shooting out and banging against the wall as you’re hit with the sudden burst of sensation.

“Won’t you?” he asks again in a low tone, giving the raw bud a serious of lighter flicks, enjoying watching your muscles dance at each one.

You whine desperately. “God, yes, I will! Just fuck me, please Jimin!”

He slowly pulls himself out, until only the head remains tucked inside, enjoying the feeling of you clenching desperately around him then snaps his hips, plunging into you yet again and setting a brutal pace. Your fingers curl even tighter into his shirt, knuckles going white, and the grip your legs have around his waist loosen as he drills into you.

Each thrust up into you hits a different place inside you, and you moan in rhythm with his relentless pace, breaking off into a whimper whenever he drags against your g-spot.

As he moves, you feel yourself clenching down on him every time he pulls out, and soon enough he’s panting. “Fuck, baby girl, I’m not gonna last much longer.”

“That’s, ah fuck, that’s not my problem,” you chime, feeling the momentum of pleasure building in your abdomen. Leaning so you’re fully stable against his chest, you reach down a hand and begin massaging your clit desperately, trying to propel yourself over the edge.

He replies in staccato, spitting out a word or two with every thrust. “You’re such a little brat,” he says, bending his knees a little so that he can hold you steady and just fuck up into you.

The increase in tempo, paired with an angle that rubs against your top wall deliciously, is too much for you, and your legs shake wildly as you move the fingers on your clit at a frenzied pace and fall apart in his arms, coming with a long, drawn-out cry.

He rides it out with you, but once you stop shuddering and your vision clears, he pulls out and lets you back down onto the floor gently.

Even after the satisfaction of an orgasm, you still feel a thrumming in your pussy that isn’t helped by the emptiness left behind, but Jimin’s much more desperate than you, running a shaky hand through his hair, head tipped back onto the wall, the other hand jacking off as fast as he can manage.

The sound of your slick as he moves is increased tenfold now that it’s not being muffled by your pussy, and you fix your shirt on the floor in front of him and fall to your knees.

He opens his eyes blearily when you push his hand away but breathes out a high-pitched whine when you take him in your mouth.

You often found guys to taste so much better when they were covered in your arousal, and it meant there was no risk of him cumming inside you, so you were happy to hollow out your cheeks and suck Jimin off, playing gently with his balls as you did just to hear him whine again.

Gone was the alpha male who took what he wanted. The Park Jimin gazing down at you with an open mouth was completely different; soft and needy, and letting out the most beautiful noises.

One of his hands fell to your hair, but instead of holding on so that he could control the blowjob, he brushed your hair away from your face so he could see you better and rested it on your cheek.

The intimate move triggered a warmth in you of a different kind that before, but you put all your focus into chasing his orgasm, using the flat of your tongue to provide some texture. It only took a few moments before the pace of his whimpers sped up. “Ah, ah, please, oh, I’m gonna cum, baby.”

Hot bursts flooded your mouth and ran down your throat. You swallowed around him one last time before pulling off and looking up at him.

He panted for a few seconds, thumb stroking your cheekbone, before he gave you a lazy smile. “It’s fifteen cents off a liter out there, I don’t suppose you need petrol?”

TAGLIST (message me or send an ask if you want to be included in the taglist).

@xxqueenwxtchxx

@fandomarchive00

@cvbachacbitch

@echimozart

#im going to burn in hell #please tell me if i did an okay job with the smut my cheeks have been red for three hours #bts au #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts smut #jimin x reader #jimin x reader smut #jeongguk x reader #jungkook x reader #enjoy your stay

330 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

(treat me nice) never let me go [branjie] 4/15 - pinkgrapefruit

chapter 4. listen to my voice it’s my disguise

previous chapters 1. 2. 3.

A/N - Heya! Welcome back to Pretty Woman branjie style - in chapter three, exciting shit went down and Vanessa was, well, excited. Thanks to Frey, Meggie and Linda for making sure this isn’t (that much of) a mess, I don’t know what I’d do without you. A little heads up, if you have a problem with the way I write my movie AU - don’t read it. Let me know what you guys think and Enjoy!

Vanessa, redressed in her trusty bodysuit and skirt, skips down to the lobby with a smile. She nods at Courtney - the bellhop even saying a quick ‘hello’ - which, upon hearing her name, leaves the girl blushing and shy. She smiles to herself as she enters the main foyer, glad she’s made someone’s day. She brushes off any weird looks she gets as she approaches the desk. “Hey.”

“Yes, ma'am. May I help you?”

“Yeah, so I’m leaving this here for a girl called Silky. She gonna pick it up sometime soon.” The woman at the desk goes to open the envelope she’s been handed and Vanessa puts on her unhappy face. “Don’t open that,” she says, quiet but nonetheless controlled.

“No, ma'am.”

She nods and exits the hotel, face returned to its natural smile.

“Miss Versace, do you know that lady?” asks Nina, curious as she watches a remarkably underdressed woman exit the hotel.

“No, ma’am.”

The taller woman raises her eyebrow as she watches the girl walk out. She’s intrigued.

The cool aircon of the shop is a nice reprieve from the baking California heat, and she takes a second to readjust her skirt as she steps in. The store is all cream and rose gold, truly a designer boutique, and she wonders momentarily how Silky knew about it. It doesn’t really feel like her style. She must look confused, she thinks, as a saleswoman approaches her rapidly with a concerned look on her face. Vanessa smiles widely at her - a sort of ‘I’m okay’ sign, but the woman doesn’t seem to read it that way.

“May I help you, ma’am?” asks the woman, the same smile still on her face, but her voice is anything but warm.

“I’m just checkin’ stuff out,” she replies, the same cheery aura continuing as she thumbs a pair of trousers that already look like they cost a month’s earnings. She pats her pocket to check that the two thousand dollars are safely there, sighing when she realises they are.

“Are you looking for anything in particular?”

“No. Well, yeah. Something a little…” She wracks her brain for the word Brooke had used to describe it that morning, getting stuck on the blonde’s face for a second. “Conservative,” she declares.

“Yes,” the woman responds cooly.

“You got nice stuff in here.” Vanessa runs a hand down a skirt that would be too long for her but would look sinful on Brooke. She checks the price tag and is tempted to drop a couple of hundred on it just to be able to watch the woman model it. God.

“Thank you.”

“How much is this?” She fixates on a gorgeous pair of plaid trousers, imagines it with a black blouse and dies a little at the fantasy.

“I don’t think this would fit you.”

“Well, I didn’t ask if it would fit. I asked how much it was,” she bites back, the woman’s tone grating on her.

“How much is this, Carson?” The blonde turns to a man stood at the desk.

“It’s very expensive,” he drawls, looking bored as he stares at the rack of Chanel across from him.

“Look, I got money,” she sighs, pulling out a fistful of twenty-dollar bills as the woman stares at her.

“I don’t think we have anything for you.”

“You’re obviously in the wrong place,” adds the man, Carson, with a sickly customer service smile, that makes Vanessa want to just slap the botox right out of his face.

“Please, leave.”

Vanessa scowls, chocolate eyes a sudden thunderstorm as she glares both of them down. As much as she is trying to be polite for Brooke’s sake, she can’t help but storm out - angry as hell at the people who thought that they could judge her based on what she was wearing and, without a doubt, her skin tone too. She wants to cry, but the anger has burned away all her tears.

Hell hath no fury like a Vanessa scorned, and as she paces back into the hotel, she’s pretty sure people are more wary of her anger than her profession. She gets to the elevator before she is stopped by- by. She cannot remember her name, but the woman is watching her like a cat watching a mouse scurry around. There is a warmth in her eyes though, a motherly nature she cannot seem to suppress as she raises an eyebrow.

“Excuse me, miss, may I help you?“ she asks politely.

“I’m going to my room.” Vanessa tries to dodge around the woman, but she reaches out an arm to block her. She stands there like a petulant child, pouting.

“Uh, do you have a key?”

“Crap! That cardboard thingy, it’s here…” She pats herself down twice before giving up. “I must have left it up there. I’m on the top floor, penthouse, I think.”

“You’re a guest here?” She looks surprised and Vanessa wants to feel offended, she also wants to remind the woman that they met yesterday, but she is still stumped on the name. She appears to be the only person in the hotel not wearing a name tag.

“I’m with a friend, I-”

“And who would that be?”

“Brooke. Brooke Lynn.”

“Brooke Lynn?”

Vanessa has the urge to try and describe her, but she’s not sure she could get past ‘tall, hot and insanely attractive’ before giving in. The elevator behind the lady dings and Courtney steps out of it looking exhausted. “SHE KNOWS ME!”

The other woman sighs and turns to the shorter girl. “Conquers, did you just come off the night shift?”

“Yes, Nina.” (Nina is her name. Vanessa feels triumphant.)

“Do you know this young lady?”

“She’s with Ms Hytes in the penthouse.”

“THAT’S IT!” She clamps her hand over her mouth with a squeak. “That’s it, Brooke Lynn Hytes - thanks Court!”

The girl smiles awkwardly before nipping into the ‘staff only’ corridor.

Nina watches after her, eyes lingering for a second with a warmth - like a mother watching over her daughter. Vanessa admires this, appreciates the facets of the woman’s personality already and can only hope that she will be on the warmer end. When she turns back around, the shorter girl suddenly feels she might not be so lucky.

“I think you need to come with me,” Nina says, firm but fair in her tone as she turns on her heels and pushes through the same ‘staff only’ door Courtney had disappeared behind. She leads them into the office marked ‘Nina West’ and gestures for Vanessa to take a seat in one of the oversized armchairs taking up half the floor space. She sinks into it like a giant marshmallow, feet dangling just above the ground due to her short stature. In her chair, Nina’s feet are planted firmly on the ground. “What’s your name then?” she asks, kindly.

“What do you want it to be?” responds the other woman, trying to diffuse the situation with comedy - it falls flat.

“Don’t play with me, young lady,” comes the reply, and it’s harsher than she anticipated. Vanessa inhales sharply, feeling like she’s back at school all over again (way too familiar with trips to the headteacher’s office).

“Vanessa.”

“Thank you, Vanessa.” The way her voice snapped back into amiable and welcoming is, frankly, impressive, and Nina smiles at her to try and lighten the mood a little. She sighs, brushes invisible crumbs off her pencil skirt before continuing. “Well, Miss Vivian- I mean, miss Vanessa. This is not the sort of hotel you seem to think it is. We don’t do things like other hotels.” The shorter girl hums noncommittally, twisting a silver ring around her thumb.

“Now, Ms Hytes, however, is a very special customer.” Pause for emphasis. “And we like to think of our special customers as friends. As a customer, we would expect Ms. Hytes to sign in any additional guests.” She checks Vanessa is still following with a head tilt. ”But as a friend, we’re willing to overlook it. Now, I’m assuming that you’re a…” The girl is suddenly very onboard, sitting bolt upright (or as much as she can be when the soft fabric is swallowing her whole).

“Relative?”

“Yes, I thought so, you must be her…”

“Cousin?” she bolsters, biting back a smile.

“Of course. Naturally, when Ms Hytes leaves, I won’t see you in this hotel again. I assume you have no other cousins here.” Vanessa shakes her head dumbly, feeling rather out of her depth in the conversation as she is pulled along for the ride. She is definitely not Brooke’s cousin (that would make the previous night very illegal), but she understands that there must be some merit in the lie. A silver lining. “Good! Then we understand each other. I would also encourage you…” She appears unable to find the right words, her brow creasing a little, “to dress a little more appropriately; that’ll be all.”

Nina looks like she wants Vanessa to just comply and walk away, but all of the anger from the shop surges back through her veins like liquid courage, but with less of the after taste.

“No,” she bursts out. “No, that’s not all. That’s - that’s what I was tryin’ to do. I swear I tried to go get a dress on Rodeo Drive today, and the stupid rich woman wouldn’t help me.” She crosses her arms and huffs a little, once again reminiscent of a petulant child. “And I have all this money now and no clothes. I just wanted a dress!” she continues, lamenting about it while pulling out the handful of more than crumpled bills. “And it’s not that I expect you to help me, but I have all of this, okay? I was going to try.” The shift in Nina’s eyes is barely noticeable and Vanessa isn’t paying enough attention for it to register as she half shouts her problems.

“I have to buy a dress for dinner tonight. And nobody will help me,” she adds, a little quieter. Nina picks up the phone on her desk and presses fewer buttons than Vanessa would like to have seen. She panics, launches forward in her seat to be closer to the woman.

“Oh, fuck, if you’re callin’ the cops, I swear to Jesus and all that shit my mama used to love. Yeah, call the cops. That’s great. Fucking tell ‘em I said hey.” Vanessa sinks back into the chair - it’s warm and feels comforting.

“Women’s clothing.”

Vanessa doesn’t realise she started crying until Nina hands her a tissue, already talking on the phone.

“Plastique, please.”

She blows her nose loudly, and even the tissues feel expensive.

“Yes, Plastique. Hello. This is Nina West here at the Queen Bever-” She chuckles down the line as Vanessa looks on quizzically. “Look, I’m going to send someone over, her name is Vanessa and she’s the cousin of a very special guest.”

When Nina meets Vanessa’s eyes, there’s a sparkle of hope in the blue abyss and the younger woman thinks she might have struck gold.

The atmosphere of this shop is completely different from the second she steps inside. While the last store felt like she’d walked into an ice machine, cold and frigid, this one almost smells like freshly baked cookies. Her shoulders immediately drop from where they were hovering by her ears in apprehension, and she is greeted by a small Asian woman with a kind smile and an aura of calmness.

“Hey, girl, you must be Vanessa. I’m Plastique.” She shakes her hand and it feels warm against Vanessa’s clammy palm.

“Yeah, hi. Nina said you’d be nice to me,” she replies causing the other woman to chuckle to herself as she guides them through the shop, stopping in front of a display of fancy-looking trousers. Vanessa can’t help but stroke across the rack, feeling the different materials under her fingers.

“She’s very sweet. What are your plans while you’re in town?”

“We’re gonna have dinner.” She moves to sit on a large white cube she assumes to be a chair. She is quickly proven wrong as Plastique grabs her arm with a bemused expression.

“You’re gonna go out? Dinner?” She reaffirms, and Vanessa hums in agreement. “Well, you’ll need a cocktail dress then. Come with me.” She once again guides them to a back display full of gowns in all shapes and sizes. She gets Vanessa to stand on a sort of pedestal and walks around her for a second before grabbing out a few and placing them on a rack. “Now, I’m sure we’re gonna find something here that your cousin will love - You’re a size six, right?“

“Yeah. How’d you know that?” Vanessa asks in confusion as she stands awkwardly, hands swinging as she shifts from foot to foot.

“That’s my job,” Plastique replies with a wink.

“You know, Plastique, she’s not really my cousin.”

“They never are, sis.”

Brooke finishes her presentation with a flourish, explaining everything that had led to her victory in court to a room of exasperated looking men. She brushes down her jacket as she looks around, takes in the furrowed brows and tensed jaws - something that she has always appreciated. It’s the mark of a confused man, albeit one of whom is unhappy to admit it, and she relishes in the sight. They mutter to themselves as she packs the case files into her briefcase, each meticulously organised to be filled when she returns to her home office, it brings a smile to her face as she feels she has truly finished the case. It hadn’t been easy, but she’d done it.

As she goes to leave, RuPaul catches her arm and in a hushed whisper asks, “Listen, everything all set for the meeting tonight?” Brooke’s only response is a quiet smile and a hum, but the smile lets on more than she could ever know, and RuPaul sees through it. She looks a little like the cat who got the cream, except she got a gorgeous Latina who she has spent an infuriating amount of time thinking about, and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t concern her just a little bit.

“Who?” he presses, “who is this girl you’re going with?” And Brooke gives a slight wink as she starts to exit the room.

“Nobody you’d know.”

If she spends the elevator ride wondering what else she could have been doing in that time (many things that one should not discuss in an office) - no one has to know.

Apparently choosing the right dress takes hours and multiple try-ons (not that Vanessa realised that), because by the time she finishes the air outside is cooler and less stuffy. It feels more like a fridge than a sauna and she’s grateful for it.

She makes it back to the hotel with a very disgruntled Uber driver, who takes one look at her bags and makes a noise she’s only ever heard in response to rich white ladies with no jobs. Vanessa can’t decide if she feels flattered or disconcerted.

She bustles through the door hurriedly, half running as she spots Nina across the room, talking to a short Asian man in red who’s gesticulating wildly.

“Nina!” she shouts before realising it’s an inappropriateness and adding a quick “Sorry, mister,” in commiseration to the man who mutters something angrily before leaving the two women alone. Once she’s sure he is out of earshot and has dealt with an irked look from Nina, Vanessa reaches into one of her bags and pulls out a bundle of burgundy fabric. “I got a dress!”

“Well, I rather hoped you’d be wearing it, to be honest, Vanessa,” Nina replies with a slight nod to the girl’s attire, which is still getting looks from customers as one of her thigh highs is slightly undone. She drops the bags ceremoniously and bends over to refasten it which only makes Nina bring a hand to her face, somewhere between bemused and embarrassed.

“Oh no, I didn’t wanna mess it up! I got shoes too, wanna see?” She picks the paper bag up and reaches an arm back inside before Nina shakes her head.

“No, that won’t be necessary. I’m sure they’re quite lovely. Thank you.”

“Look.” She swings the bag in her hand by her side, a little awkwardly, “I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but Plastique was really good… and I just wanted to say thanks?” She says it like it’s a question, a habit picked up from a lifetime of judgemental figures and an affinity for pleasing people. “You’re pretty cool.”

“You’re welcome, miss Vanessa. You’re pretty cool too.”

The door of the penthouse is barely closed when Vanessa hears the phone ringing, and she sprints as fast as she can to the desk, dropping the bags on the way. She slides into the chair on the fifth ring, picking it up with a breathy, “Hello?”

“Never, ever pick up the phone,” comes Brooke’s smooth voice down the line; it feels like melted butter and, even with the slightly stern tone, still brings a smile to the girl’s face.

“Then why are you callin’ me?” she banters back.

“Did you buy clothes today?”

“I got a dress! A cocktail one!” And the change in her voice must be perceptible because the second she gets excited, Brooke chuckles.

“That’s good.” The way the Canadian says it makes Vanessa think that it is genuinely good, and it only makes her smile wider. There are no false pretenses here. “I’ll be in the hotel lobby, eight p.m. sharp.”

“What? You’re not comin’ up to the door?” she teases.

“This isn’t a date. It’s business.” Despite the cool tone, there is an audible smile.

“Where are you takin’ me, anyway?”

“I’m taking you to a restaurant called Santino’s,” Brooke responds before adding, “very elegant.” Vanessa twirls a strand of her hair around her finger as her smile softens at the phone. She watches the brown fleck gold in the warm sunlight pouring through the window.

“What does it do?”

“Lots of rice dishes.”

“Like, Chinese?” Brooke chuckles again, to which Vanessa makes an indignant sound. “I’ll meet you in the lobby, but only 'cause you’re payin’ me to.” She smirks a little as she says it, comfortable with the playful teasing they’ve got going on.

“Well, thank you very much,” Brooke replies before hanging up, and the shorter girl holds the phone to her chest for a second, sighing before putting it back down. She’s just about to go back to the bag before it rings again and, on impulse, she picks it up - answering with a smile.

“Hello?”

“I told you not to pick up the phone.”

“Then stop callin’ me!” She ends the call this time, but she cannot wait for eight. Then, she realises, she has no idea how to behave at an elegant dinner. She panics.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #nina west #courtney conquers #plastique tiara #branjie #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #pretty woman #treat me nice #pinkgrapefruit #concrit welcome

24 notes · View notes

takemedancingmaine · 7 years

Text

I blame my older brother. For all of it. If he’d just hired a proper babysitter, I wouldn’t have had to pick Charlie up from primary school in the first place.

I can’t really blame Liam though. Despite how much I want to. His wife did just die. It’s not like he’s been slacking off or anything, he’s been handling becoming a single dad best he can. I know that. I respect that. But still, it’s nice to place blame on someone, not myself.

“There’s a policy at the school that the parents have to go into the classroom to pick up their kid,” Liam is saying through the phone now as I step off the bus only two blocks away from Charlie’s school building.

“It’s so that the school knows everyone went home safely with the proper adult,” he adds. “Charlie’s in classroom number five.”

“Sound reasoning,” I acknowledge. Five-year-olds aren’t always the most careful of creatures. You can never be too prepared to counteract this character flaw of theirs. “Five. Got it. I will bring him home and stuff him with copious amounts of sweets before teaching him how to properly slide down a banister.”

“Wren,” my brother groans. He loves my humour, I presume.

“Feed him, get him to take a nap, and then see if he has any assignments,” I roll my eyes despite my brother not being around to see. “I know how to handle my own nephew,” I tell him.

“Thanks for doing this,” Liam sighs into the phone. “I’m not even taking lunch today. I’m eating a granola bar at my desk and working straight through,” he says.

“You wanted to be a lawyer,” I tease. “This was the life you chose.”

“I was gifted with a little sister for a reason,” he fires back. “So that she could do favors for me.”

“Shove off,” I lower my voice as I enter the school gates, not wanting to offend any young ears with my language choices. “I’ll see you tonight, bruv. I’ve gotta go now, though. I’m walking into the school,” I halt my steps right outside the door as I wait for him to respond.

“See you then,” he barely gets his words all out before the line goes dead. He’s been busier than usual recently and I can’t fight the gnawing feeling in my stomach that something is off about that.

A cacophony of happy sounds of children—shouting, laughter, toys, etc.—rails against my ears the moment I step inside, a particularly frazzled looking mum stepping in behind me as I hold the door open for her.

“Thanks,” she mumbles and buzzes past me as I make my way slowly, trying to find the proper classroom so I don’t look like a fool.

“Wren!” Right as I spot classroom number five, I hear my name being called. Lowering my glance from the number beside the door to one of the faces inside the frame, I spot Charlie, his smile wide as he waves me over toward him.

“Hey, munchkin,” I pick him up and kiss his cheek. “Did you have a good day?”

“I did,” he nods. “I’m learning my letters,” he’s very proud of himself. I can tell. I smile and place him back on the floor.

“Wow,” I gasp. “Soon you’ll be out-writing me!” I feign being upset. “You’ll run me out of a job.”

“I don’t want to be a writer!” He rolls his eyes. Wow. He is his father’s son. I give a little snort. “I want to be a lawyer like daddy!”

“Oh,” I bite my lip and nod. “Okay then,” I try to smile but I’m sure my discontent is visible. “How about you go get your things so that we can leave and make lunch?” I ask.

“Can we make pizza?” He asks.

“I don’t see why not,” I shrug with a smile.

Charlie turns to grab his things but stops and gives me a glance. “You have to check-in with Mr. Lowden before we can leave.”

“Right,” I nod, and as he rushes to his cubby I turn and see his teacher, Mr. Lowden, talking with another parent but as I approach he excuses himself to chat with me.

“Wren Kearney?” He asks.

He’s Scottish, tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed with a scruffy beard and dimples. He’s more than likely my own age, and he’s well fit. He seems unassuming, but I think he knows he’s quite fit from the way he’s smirking at me.

I blush and nod.

“M’Jack Lowden. Your brother called earlier and said you’d be picking Charlie up today,” he explains. “I just need you to sign the open space next to his name,” he points toward a binder filled with sheets for each student in the class, each day signed by their guardian picking them up.

I smile at my brother’s signature under Monday and Tuesday’s column. He really does try.

“Right,” I breathe out and reach for the pen to sign on Wednesday’s line.

“You and your brother don’t look alike,” Mr. Lowden says now, my hand hesitating a moment before moving to sign my last name with a flourish.

“I take after our mum and he takes after our dad. Although, his hair was much darker when we were children,” I mumble as I stand back up fully beside him.

“To be fair though, If I didn’t know Charlie was your brother's son, I’d never have guessed at that relation either,” he smiles.

I bite my lip to try and hide my smile, my cheeks flaming. Why I’m this embarrassed I have no idea, but I am. I manage a nod through my embarrassment.

“Charlie looks exactly like his mum,” I say now, watching as Mr. Lowden crosses his arms across his chest.

“Aye,” he nods, his own eyes and smile lowering for a moment. “I heard what happened. How’s your brother been managing?”

“He’s trying his best,” I watch as Charlie hugs one of his friends before attempting to put his jacket on.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on Charlie and he seems to be managing quite well,” he says, his eyes following mine and glancing at Charlie as well, watching as he does his buttons on his jacket up. “I’m rather surprised,” he adds quietly as we watch him together.

“From what I can tell, he’s not really noticed other than asking for her at night,” I watch as he slips his backpack straps on. “Thanks for watching out for him, though. It’s nice to know he has people in his corner.”

“Of course,” Mr. Lowden nods, his gaze returning to me and I feel my cheeks flame again as I look down to my shoes before glancing up at him. “Y’ready to go with your aunt, kiddo?” He bends down to talk to Charlie as he comes up to the two of us.

He nods vigorously. “She’s a lot of fun,” Charlie grabs my hand. “She also said we can have pizza for lunch!”

“That sounds amazing,” he gives a smile before he nods and stands to full height. “I have to get ready for my afternoon class, but I’ll see you tomorrow, alright, Charlie?”

“Goodbye, Mr. Lowden,” he waves his free hand to his teacher before we make our way toward the classroom door.

I feel eyes on me as we leave and glancing over my shoulder I notice Charlie’s teacher watching us leave, a dimpled smirk on his face, as he bites his bottom lip. Quickly I turn away and feel my cheeks flush as Charlie and I make our way toward home.

“Is the pizza done yet?” Charlie asks for what, I swear, has to be the seventeenth time.

The whole process of making it had happened pretty smoothly. Together we’d made the pizza, Charlie spreading the tomato paste and cheese while I chopped peppers and spinach—much to his dismay—to put on top.

I do have to give my brother credit, even though I hate to do so. His home is quite modern, his appliances state of the art, even his aircon system was digital and could be controlled from his phone. Being a lawyer did pay off a bit for him. Quite literally.

I check the timer on my phone and look in at the pizza quickly. “A few minutes, bud.” I tell him and he groans. “How about you go wash your hands and I’ll get our drinks ready. Milk or juice?” I ask.

“Juice!” He cheers triumphantly and turns to run toward the bathroom to wash up.

“Use soap!” I yell after him. “And count to ten twice!” I add as I grab the apple juice from the fridge and pour him a glass. I can hear the sink running, so I take that as a win while I pour myself a glass of juice as well.

Right as he’s coming back into the room the timer for the pizza goes off.

“Yes!” Charlie cheers as I pull the pan out of the oven. “Thank you, Wren,” he adds as he jumps up into his chair at the table while I cut slices.

“It’s very hot,” I warn him as I slide a plate with two small slices across to him. “Be careful.”

“Okay,” he nods and immediately picks up the pizza. I groan, thinking of the talking to I’d get from my brother if Charlie burns his hand. It turns out that he doesn’t—thankfully—, and he at least blows a bit on the pizza before he begins to eat it. It’s minor things you have to take victories from.

He doesn’t even complain about the spinach and peppers, instead just eats happily as I clean up the kitchen a bit before joining him to each a slice myself. I make a mental note to later brag to Liam about how I got his son to eat vegetables. He’ll be so jealous.

Liam has always been fun to tease. Three years older than me, my brother turned thirty in January—nine months ago—and I’ve not let him forget that fact. Always teasing him about his age, amongst many, many other things.

The only time I relented was two months ago when April, his wife of seven years, died suddenly.

Arrhythmogenic right ventricular dysplasia. A long medical phrase that basically means the heart cells in the right ventricle don't connect very well, meaning they don't contract very well. April, with her unknown congenital heart disease, would simply become a statistic the moment she died. Up to 80 percent of individuals with this disease suffer sudden cardiac death because they have no idea they even have it.

She was just another number in an upsetting medical statistic. That’s what Liam looked at it as. My brother was quite bitter regarding the whole thing, but in the past two months, he’d still managed to function on a somewhat normal and regular level, so that’s something.

Charlie noticed his mothers absence. Missed her, asked for her—mostly at bedtime—, but it wasn’t as catastrophic for him as people thought it would be.

Charlie was the reason my brother was still pushing forward after what had happened. Our parents tried to rally around him, but both still had jobs in Birmingham that they couldn’t entirely skip out on. I tried to stay around when I noticed he needed someone, but Liam tended to grieve on his own. Choosing to isolate himself in his worst moments.

Charlie was keeping him in the world, forcing him to engage with people who weren’t his employees at the law firm, or, you know, me. Sometimes I think my brother is starting to toe the line between coming back to us fully or avoiding us entirely by delving deeper into his work.

Today I think he’s leaning towards work, tomorrow could be another story though. He’s constantly swaying back and forth. I try to keep him smiling with my humour. That’s what I have to offer him.

“Wren?”

“Hmm?” I ask.

“I’m finished,” Charlie yawns at me and gestures toward his plate.

“Oh,” I shake myself and realize I’d gotten lost in my mind, my own pizza slice was forgotten, cold upon my plate. “Right,” I give him a look. “Okay, rinse your plate and put it in the dishwasher,” I tell him.

I finish my own slice while I supervise Charlie from my place at the table. For a five-year-old, he’s very good at taking care of cleaning up after himself.

“Alright,” I nod once he’s done. “Let’s get you up to bed for your nap.”

After a story and a lullaby, Charlie is fast asleep in his bed and I’m not far behind, falling asleep as I sit on the couch scrolling through news alerts on my laptop.

There’s nothing new since I started chasing my story early this morning, my source not yet having gotten back to me. The only good news to come from that is when I fall asleep, and inevitably I do, I don’t miss out on anything important.

“I ordered Thai takeaway for us,” Piper comes out of her room in jammies (read: an old t-shirt and joggers) and pops the kettle on.

“Bless you,” I sink deeper into the old couch in our living room. “After taking care of Charlie all afternoon, and with Liam working late I just really didn’t want to cook.”

“It’ll be here in about fifteen minutes,” she nods, fluffing my hair on her way past me to grab her phone. I dodge her as she walks by again back into the kitchen.

I’d only gotten home around half-eight. I was quite cross with Liam when he’d finally gotten home from work. Charlie was already asleep for the night by the time Liam had gotten home.

He didn’t bother to keep in mind that I have to be at work early tomorrow or that I live half an hour across London on the tube.

After a shower and a face mask, I was ready to just relax for the rest of the night before I passed out in bed. The only solace I’d gotten all day was the twenty-minute nap I’d managed right after I’d gotten Charlie down for his own nap.

The rest of my afternoon was spent answering emails, entertaining my nephew, cooking for my nephew, and getting him ready for bed.

Now, Piper is steeping us some brews and I’m watching a rerun of GBBO.

“I didn’t even tell you,” I say as Piper slips into the spot beside me on our sofa. She’s placed both our mugs on the table in front of us.

“What?” She asks, kicking her slipper-covered feet up onto the table, careful of the mugs.

Piper and I have been living together going on two years now. We’d become friends back in uni and when we graduated I stayed in London and she went to Liverpool, but we managed to stay in touch.

When she moved back to London a couple of years after we’d graduated, we figured living together would be the best situation for both of us. For Piper, because it helped her pay rent when she only had to worry about half of it, and for me because Piper tends to bring out the best of me.

Being shy and having depression are two conditions that I’ve understood my whole life to go hand-in-hand, and even on my bad days, Piper is around for me, always. I still have bad days obviously, but having someone like Piper around makes things just a fraction easier when they do get hard. She gets me to go out and do things and enjoy the world even when I want to wallow in the emptiness I feel.

She’s good for me.

“Charlie’s teacher is fit as fuck,” I say now as I lean my head against her shoulder and feel her vibrate under me as she laughs.

“Hot for teacher?” She giggles at her own joke.

“I’m serious!” I try not to laugh along with her, in vain. My own giggles coming not a moment later.

“Wait, really?” She stops and asks seriously.

“Not at all kidding,” I tell her, my cheeks flaming as I remember our brief encounter earlier in the day.

“Wren Elizabeth Kearney! You have a crush on your nephew’s teacher, don’t you?” Piper shoves me off of her so that she can look me over.

I blush even deeper and unable to speak, I nod. She gasps. “Oh, my god,” she reaches out to pinch my cheek. “You are so adorable. Tell me everything. What’s he like?”

“Well I only talked to him for a minute, didn’t I?” I ask, but she narrows her eyes and points a finger at me. “He’s just classically attractive,” I shrug. “He’s tall and got this strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes. He’s even got a beard to complete the look.”

“You’re being unbelievably vague,” she rolls her eyes. “You haven’t even given me a name yet.”

“Well, he’s Scottish. And I think he said his name was Jack?” She raises an eyebrow at me. “All I know that he’s Mr. Lowden,” I shrug again.

Piper breaks into another fit of giggles at that. “Mr. Lowden,” she teases. “How very school girl of you, Wren.”

I feel like a hole needs to open up in the floor and pull me in, saving me from the situation. Sadly, no such hole appears.

“C’mon,” she wraps an arm around my shoulder. “M’only joking, love,” she says. “I just think it’s cute that you find him attractive. Let me have some fun.”

“You always have fun,” I grumble.

“Well,” she shrugs. “You got me there.” She releases me and picks up her brew before taking a sip. I follow suit and almost moan at how good tea is after the long day I had today.

“Right,” Piper says now. “Let’s rewatch Matt make his fire truck cake and fawn over how adorable he is before we have to eat, go to bed, and do this all over again.”

#I DID SOMETHING BIG #I'M DOING SOMETHING BIG #PLEASE #PLEASE GIVE FEEDBACK #I WANT TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS #PLEASE TELL ME EVERYTHING #jack lowden fanfiction #jack lowden #ofc #hand me down #hmd

37 notes · View notes

supremelovefool-blog · 7 years

Text

Series Fic: L. Joe Breaks from the World

Title: L. Joe Breaks from the World (AO3) Genre/Universe: Part 14 of The Never-Ending Trials of Leader C.A.P. series Summary: A collection of one-shots chronicling the various ways being Teen Top’s leader is both a blessing and the worst thing to ever happen to anybody. Chapter Summary: Because sometimes, Byunghun finds himself in need of a break, especially when the real world (actually, just his stupid band) gets to be a little too much. A/N: We’re really going to miss you, L. Joe.

Sometimes, Byunghun really, really hated his members.

This was the thought running through his head, as he shuffled out their shared dorms (why did he still live there anyway?) and left behind yet another shouting match between the youngest members about some unfinished game. Whatever the cause or result of that one was, he couldn’t really bring himself to care.

He mulled this over, moving a foot in front of the other in his regular pace, no longer keeping track of where he was headed. At this time, there really was only one other person he wouldn’t mind visiting. Even if it came at the cost of disturbing that other man’s peace in order to appease Byunghun’s ruffled disposition.

It had always been like this between the two, and the familiarity of the situation wasn’t lost on Byunghun, even after all these years.

He enjoyed hanging out with Minsoo the most. While he would never admit it out loud, especially not at the dorms where there were four other blabbermouths ensuring that your secret was never safe with them, Byunghun looked up to Minsoo a lot. He admired so much about him, from his effortless coolness, to his willingness to look stupid for the rest of the guys. More than anything though, he appreciated how down-to-earth Minsoo was, and how he never tried to lord it over the others, even though he was supposed to be their leader.

Of course, most of it had to do with Choi Jonghyun’s rapidly-growing body that showed no signs of slowing. There was also his exploitable soft spot for Yoo Changhyun and Ahn Daniel. Lee Chanhee could also get his way with Minsoo if he’d exert half the effort to manipulate everything to make sure their leader got on his good side.

Actually, most of it had to do with the rest of the members.

Byunghun had never really learned to appreciate the full value and extent of Minsoo’s influence on the team. But when Minsoo moved out of the dorms to go live on his own, Byunghun had noticed, now more than ever, just how big a gap he’d left behind.

It was noisier, for one. The kids would always be noisy, at all times of the day, and this was something Byunghun knew he was supposed to have accepted long ago as an indisputable fact of life. It was as irrefutable as the sun rising in the mornings. Put Teen Top in the same room together, and things were bound to explode in noise and chaos.

But without Minsoo’s silent presence to steady them, things only got more unbearable. Everywhere Byunghun looked, he saw only irritating faces with the most irritating, loud voices. But when he looked around for someone to complain to, Minsoo was nowhere to be found. Chanhee was no help either, choosing instead to leave the dorms for his much-needed peace and quiet without the rest of the members.

Meanwhile, all Byunghun wanted to do was sleep.

This was why, with everything becoming so magnified back at the dorms, he found himself walking down a path that had become recently familiar to him, walked up to a door that would slowly begin to resemble another friendly place to crash in when the world got to be too much, and stood there, hoping to see the member he’d failed to truly appreciate.

When Minsoo opened up, it was obvious he wasn’t happy about seeing Byunghun at his front door.

“You again?” he scowled, but pushed his door a little wider anyway.

Byunghun pushed past him and entered the unit.

Minsoo scoffed from the doorway. “Yeah, sure, make yourself at home, why don’t you,” he said, before shutting the door. He walked over to the kitchen to look over Byunghun’s shoulder. Byunghun, who’d opened up the refrigerator to see what he could help himself to, appeared not to mind.

“You know I got this place to get away from all of you, right?” Minsoo huffed, after seeing Byunghun grab a carton of juice.

Byunghun grinned at him and shrugged. “I can just imagine Changhyun’s face right now if you said that to him,” he said. “Can you imagine the tears?”

Minsoo laughed and flopped down on his bed. “Shut up, he knows why I had to move out.”

“And ever since, he’s claimed dibs on your sofa bed.” Byunghun took the soft chair nearby and stretched his feet over the bed.

Minsoo huffed again and shoved Byunghun’s leg off his thighs. “Let him. The next time I come back, I’ll show him who’s boss.”

“Jonghyun’s also tried to claim the sofa bed, I think.”

“… Never mind.”

The two sat in amiable silence for a while, letting the aircon gently blow the cool air onto their relaxed bodies.

Byunghun liked it whenever he could get Minsoo away from the others. While Minsoo still never neglected to poke fun at him whenever he could, he was always, somehow less of a bully when it was just them together. Probably because there was nobody else to show off for, when it was just them.

Not that anyone respected Minsoo’s authority anymore, anyway.

Byunghun looked around him, a little amazed at how quickly the apartment had filled with accessories, decorations, and other items. Even the aircon had Minsoo’s faint scent to it, he noticed. Slowly, the small unit was becoming Minsoo’s own private space, and Byunghun was understandably envious. If only he could have this sort of peace back at the dorms.

“So,” he said, “how long before you bring a girl here?”

The response came immediately. “You’re here now, aren’t you?”

Byunghun chucked a pillow towards Minsoo’s laughing mass on the bed. “I’m going to leave my juice here on the chair if you don’t stop.”

“Then you can’t ever come back here again.”

“Yeah, right. You’d miss me too much.”

“I’ll see you when we get schedules, don’t worry.”

“That’ll take a while.”

“It’ll take long enough.”

Byunghun continued to sip from his juice carton. “How’s the song writing going?”

Minsoo groaned in lieu of a proper answer. “Don’t remind me,” he said. “This stuff’s harder than I thought.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, of course I will.”

“So what did you need my help for, then?”

“Idiot, you’re the one that started it.”

Silence fell upon them again, causing Byunghun to make the faint realization that most of his conversations with Minsoo were either peaceful talks, or unfinished arguments. If anything, he guessed that it was due to their similarities in personality – after all, of everyone in the team, Byunghun often felt that he was closest to Minsoo in this regard. This could explain why they both got along so well.

“You know,” Minso said from the bed, cutting into Byunghun’s thoughts. “If you wanted to get away from the others so badly, you could always get your own place too.”

Byunghun shrugged. “Too much work,” he answered. “I’d rather move back in with my folks if it came to that. They still keep my room for me.”

“Do what you want,” Minsoo said. “I’m just saying. So you don’t have to keep coming here whenever you want to take a nap.”

Immediately, Byunghun felt his face begin to redden. But he didn’t have to think long to come up with a reply, as the answer flew straight out of his mouth and into the apartment. “But I like coming here.”

Of course, this wasn’t what he’d wanted to say at all, but now that the statement had been released out in the open, Byunghun didn’t see the point in taking it back. He still tried to, anyway. “I mean – I like coming here to piss you off sometimes.”

But Minsoo gave him an easy grin. “Shut up, I know what you meant.” He leaned further back into his pillows and stretched. “You know the door’s always open. But it wouldn’t hurt to stay with the rest of the guys now and then.”

“Says the guy who moved out.”

“I’m being serious here. What’s wrong with you anyway? You’ve been crashing here all the time now. I was serious about the moving out thing, if they piss you off so much.”

But now, Byunghun was shaking his head. “It’s not really them,” he began, but drifted off when he found he had no idea where to begin. From the corner of his eye, he caught Minsoo playing with the edge of a pillow. From him, there was no pressure to continue the statement, but it didn’t sit well with Byunghun to just leave him hanging like that.

Byunghun sighed. “It’s a lot of things, really.”

Minsoo scoffed. “With you, it’s always a lot of things.”

Byunghun reddened. “That’s not true!”

Minsoo grinned. “Kind of is.”

Byunghun sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. Lately, he’d begun to see each of his members in entirely new lights. Even as they retained much of their debut selves, there were still so many things that changed. Here, now, alone with Minsoo, Byunghun could clearly see what had changed and what had stayed the same with him.

Minsoo had learned to become more expressive, for one. There were introverts in the team, but there were no anti-social people. Give a quiet guy a little time with the rest of the members, and he’ll be making as much noise as the rest of them in no time. This was something so clearly evident in both Minsoo and himself, even if they both tried to deny this at every possible opportunity.

Sometimes, Byunghun caught himself wishing he had much of the same cool confidence that his leader had. Minsoo could sit and laze about on his bed, completely oblivious to the rest of the world and other things. Whereas, with Byunghun, his feelings immediately showed, no matter his hardest efforts to keep them at bay.

“Hey.”

Minsoo looked up.

“Do you like it out here, on your own?

Minsoo shrugged. “It’s nice. Quiet. Gives me time to think.”

But more time to think was not good for Byunghun, who always had so many things running through his head on any given day. For Byunghun, more time to think also meant more time to mope and brood, causing all of his problems to get bigger and bigger, until they got out of control altogether.

Suddenly, the idea of owning his own place didn’t seem as appealing as it did before.

“You know…” Minsoo’s quiet voice snapped him out of his thoughts again. “You think too much.”

Byunghun blinked. “Huh?”

He scratched his nose and looked immediately sheepish, as if he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “It’s just…” Minsoo began. “You always think about so many things. Carrying everything on your own. Maybe you should just be honest from now on. With yourself, I mean. And maybe also with me, because I’m supposed to be your friend.”

Byunghun could hardly believe it. Was this guy really trying to inspire him or something? “Hey, are you really trying to inspire me or something?” He snorted. “Changyun’s right, you really aren’t very good at this.”

“Hey, shut up. I’m trying to be nice here, okay? You ungrateful ass.” Minsoo threw a pillow his way. “I’m just saying. You don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t want to. But in my experience, talking to someone about it really helps.”

“Idiot, what do you think I’m doing here, then?”

“I don’t know, drinking all my juice? When I said to talk to someone, I didn’t mean me. Now get out, you moocher.”

“You’re one to talk! Why do you want me out right now anyway? As if you’re doing anything so important.”

“Yeah, jacking off. What time are you leaving?”

Byunghun snorted loudly at this, no longer trying to pretend to be annoyed. “Why am I not surprised?”

“You should be, you ass, I’m an upstanding moral citizen of the state.”

“Okay, Mister Jack Off.”

Minsoo rolled his eyes. “Take it from me, okay? You can’t keep all the bad stuff in. Let them out some time, it’ll help.”

“Are you still talking about jacking off?”

This drew an exaggerated groan from the other man. “Shut up, shorty. You know what I’m talking about.”

Byunghun sobered immediately. It seemed he couldn’t completely hide anything from his friends after all. “Talk to someone about it. Okay, I got it. But what if nobody else likes what I say?”

Here, Minsoo straightened up on the bed, apparently sobering up also along with Byunghun. “They might not,” he said. “But they’ll listen to you anyway. That’s more important.”

“You don’t even want to know what I’m talking about, do you?”

It surprised Byunghun when the answer came instantly from Minsoo. “Why would I?” he asked. “If it’s none of my business, then it’s not. Besides, if I asked you about it, you’ll tell me something else instead.”

Byunghun shrugged and tried to sip more juice from the carton he was holding, even if there was nothing left in it anymore.

“I’m not like the others, you know. I know when to butt out of something that doesn’t concern me.”

Byunghun had to chuckle at that. “Ah, they know when to butt out too, you know. But only sometimes.”

Minsoo gave a short laugh. “Look, whatever it is you’re thinking of doing, I’m sure you have your own reasons for it. You’re not the type to do anything rashly anyway. Am I right?”

“I guess,” Byunghun replied, now suddenly feeling very guilty about not truly divulging himself. But he couldn't deny that he'd gotten something out of this visit anyway. “Thanks. I knew talking to someone older would help.”

“Hey, watch who you’re calling old. I’m not your dad.”

“You kind of look the part anyway. When was the last time you shaved? Last year?”

“That’s it. Get out. Help a guy out with his life problems and this is what I get in return. I’m so glad I got my own place, away from all of you ungrateful kids.”

Byunghun laughed. “Hey, watch who you’re calling ungrateful. Let me buy you a beer some time.”

“You’re just saying that ‘cause you want to drink,” Minsoo accused. “But fine, I accept. It’s your money.”

“Yours too, if I can get you drunk enough.”

“Out!”

But Byunghun was way ahead of him already, moving immediately towards the door and still laughing out loud even as he continued on outside. He made sure to bring his empty juice carton with him on his way out - he couldn't have his leader thinking he was ungrateful and rude at the same time.

Now, making his way back to their shared dorms (seriously, why did he still live there anyway?), Byunghun found himself going back to his shared conversation with Minsoo. He did tell him to be more honest and open, and if Byunghun was going to be both, then he would just have to come out and admit it, then.

Sometimes, Byunghun really, really hated his members.

But the good, honest truth was that he’d hate it even more if he had to go on without any of them. Byunghun knew, deep in his heart and deep in his gut, that this was something that was truly unshakeable. It was as irrefutable as the sun rising in the mornings. Despite all the noise and chaos, it really was so impossible to shake guys like these from your memory.

Byunghun knew this, because Lord knows he’s tried so many times to do so. But amid the loud destruction they liked to cause on a daily basis, he also knew he would never have to feel truly lonely with the others around.

Still, it would help to get that much-needed moment of peace away from the others once in a while.

This was why, halfway through his route home, Byunghun stopped by at a nearby café, whipped out his phone, and texted Chanhee to see if he was on his way home too. Knowing his same-aged friend, he probably wouldn’t be as eager to get back home so early. That unfinished game seemed like it would occupy the kids for a long time yet, anyway.

#teen top #teen top fanfic #teen top fanfiction #captrials

2 notes · View notes