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hyungieyoongi · 3 years

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Spotlight: “Run Away to You” Part 3

You knew it was just a matter of time before someone figured it out.

Your carefully constructed reality was about to shatter.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader

Word Count: 2.0K

Genre: Angst + Fluff (there’s a hug and everything there is fluff on the horizon!!)

Series Masterlist: Run Away to You

Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.

Part 2 // Part 4

---

You blinked your eyes a few times to adjust to the brightness of the morning as the sunlight streamed into your room through the crack in your curtains. Your eyelids felt heavy with exhaustion. Glancing at the clock on your nightstand, you let out an audible groan at the time. It was 9:30 a.m., meaning you had slept for four short hours, your brain and restless thoughts refusing to let you sleep until the early hours of the morning.

After you were finally able to stop the onslaught of tears last night, you sat with Marianne on your carpet and told her everything that happened: colliding with Yoongi at the corner store, the fight in your apartment, and how he comforted you during your panic attack. When she asked about the phone call from your old number, you simply played her the last voicemail Yoongi left you, letting his words sink in on their own.

“Shit,” Marianne breathed out.

“Tell me about it,” you agreed.

Your head was pounding, making you feel like you were suffering a hangover this morning from the lack of sleep combined with the many tears you cried. You went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, hoping the scalding hot water would burn away the memories of everything that had transpired.

You decided to avoid looking at either one of your phones, old or new, when you got out and dressed. Instead, you decided to try and convince your neighbor to let you take her dog on a walk. You desperately needed some company and fresh air to clear your head.

Donning the black hat on the hook by the door this time, you locked the door behind you. At the end of the hallway, you spotted your neighbor holding her little black pug in her arms, peering slightly over the railing at the end that looked out onto the sidewalk and street below.

“Hi there, good morning! What’s going on?” you asked, hoping your attempt at cheerfulness was convincing.

“You have to see this. There are cameras all over the place! The landlord had to come to shoo them from the stairwell and elevator this morning. Apparently, someone famous was sighted here yesterday, and now they’re looking for someone they say lives here? It’s quite the scene down there,” Susan let her pug down as she told you the news. He came bounding over to you, expecting to be showered with cuddles and kisses. Instead, you stood frozen in place, taking in everything Susan had just said.

“Cameras? There are cameras down there? In front of the building?” you asked.

“Yes, dear, isn’t that strange? I wonder if we have a celebrity in our midst!”

You let out a cough, giving Susan a fake excuse that you forgot a jacket so you could leave, ignoring her pug yapping at you for attention.

You were back in your apartment before Susan could question your odd behavior, grabbing your phone that you blatantly ignored when you woke up this morning.

You opened Twitter, going straight to the trending page.

The picture at the top of the list was blurry, but you could clearly make out two figures. It was a picture of you and Yoongi, walking to your apartment from the store. It looked like it had been taken on a phone camera, probably from the park across the street. Someone had to have recognized Yoongi, and now, there were cameras outside your apartment complex.

The picture causing a frenzy didn’t show your face, your hair covering your profile. You scrolled rapidly through some of the comments, people speculating about who the “mystery girl” was that Yoongi was with yesterday.

You knew it was just a matter of time before someone figured it out.

Your carefully constructed reality was about to shatter.

---

Yoongi’s phone was vibrating nonstop on the bed next to him. He tried to ignore it, shoving his face further under the thick comforter, hoping whoever was trying to reach him would just give up eventually.

When it started to vibrate incessantly once again, he finally glanced at the screen, fully prepared to yell at whoever woke him up.

An old picture of you filled his screen, one that Yoongi took when you first started seeing each other. You had fallen asleep on his shoulder after a long day of filming. You looked so at peace, one of his sweaters that you stole from his closet wrapped around your frame. He had snapped a photo, setting it as your contact photo, smiling at it every time you called.

He had never changed it.

Yoongi immediately sat up when he realized you were calling. He assumed he would never hear from you again, that the chapter between you two was officially closed. This time for good.

He answered on the third ring, but didn’t say anything, waiting to see if the call was an accident.

“…Yoongi?” his heart lurched at the sound of his name.

“Yes?” he asked tentatively, his voice rough with sleep.

“I need help. There’s a picture…of us. Together. I tried to call Marianne, but she didn’t answer. Yoongi, I…I don’t know what to do. I need help,” Yoongi waited, holding his breath, “I need you.”

He threw the covers off himself, already heading toward the door of his bedroom. You sounded so scared.

“I’ll come get you. Tell me where you are.”

---

Yoongi had given you careful instructions over the phone, his voice calm and calculated. You were supposed to wait in your apartment until exactly 10:30 a.m. and head down the back staircase to the alley behind your building. A car would be waiting for you there.

He told you to wear a mask and act casual, like you were just getting into a rideshare car. Be invisible and inconspicuous.

A black SUV was idling in your alleyway. You opened the backseat door on the driver’s side, shutting it quickly behind you.

“Miss Y/L/N?” the driver asked, turning around to face you. He had a kind smile, eyes slightly crinkling in the corners from his upturned lips. You nodded once.

“Good morning, I’ll be driving you to Mr. Min’s location. He requested that we send this particular vehicle because the windows are tinted for maximum security. Please make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you,” you said, relieved.

Despite the driver’s assurance, you turned your head away from the window as the car passed the hoard of photographers outside of your building. They seemed to be getting restless with the lack of people coming in and out of your complex. You were grateful to be heading as far away from there as possible.

The car eventually reached a gate, the security guard waving the car forward once it checked the license plates. You pulled into an underground garage. You weren’t familiar with the building; you figured that Yoongi and the boys had moved within the last year as their label continued to grow.

The driver cleared his throat to get your attention.

“Mr. Min would like you to take the elevator, the one just there, ma’am,” he said pointing to the nearest set of silver doors, “to floor 16. He will meet you there.”

“Thank you, you honestly saved me today,” you told him with a grateful smile. He gave you another crinkle-eyed grin.

“It’s nothing, really. Give my regards to Mr. Min.”

“I will.”

The elevator lurched upward toward floor 16, and you realized you had no idea what to say to Yoongi. The doors opened, and you were startled when the man in question was pacing in front of the elevator doors, looking frazzled as he evidently waited for your arrival.

His head snapped toward the open doors when he heard the “bing” of the elevator.

“You made it,” he said simply when you walked toward him.

“Thanks to you,” you replied. “Yoongi, I can’t thank you enough. I know this is the last thing you probably expected today, but I appreciate it more than I can tell you.”

If you weren’t mistaken, there was a pink tinge on his cheeks at your words.

“We have a strategy meeting to get to. The label has some, uh, concerns about the photo.”

Your heart sank at his words, but you realized it was time to stop letting your emotions about the situation run the show. You were potentially going to be forced back into the spotlight you had tried so hard to stay away from. It was time to be professional about this.

“Right. Of course, lead the way,” your tone had become formal, sickly sweet and stiff. It felt unbelievably awkward after spilling your heart out to him yesterday. But you knew your place–you were just part of his label’s damage control problems for the day.

He turned on his heel, leading you down the long hallway, shoes clicking against the tile floor. You followed a foot behind him, wanting to give him, and you, space.

In the meeting, you gritted your teeth, your hands balled into fists underneath the table as you listened to a group of label management and the public relations team discuss what messaging, if any, to put out. Would it be better to let it die down on its own? Release a statement saying Yoongi was visiting an “acquaintance”? There were dozens of options they went through. Yoongi’s eyes kept straying to look at you, but your eyes stayed on the clock above the PR analyst’s head across from you.

When they started discussing whether to release your identity, however, you decided enough was enough. You stood, Yoongi watching your every move.

“Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, but I would feel more comfortable if my publicist was contacted before any decisions are made regarding the release of my private information,” you had worked in this industry, too, and hell, you weren’t going to let these people dictate your life. “As you can imagine, this has the potential to have far-reaching consequences on my own livelihood. It would be best to take no further action until she is in this room with you. Otherwise, I will be forced to contact my attorney.”

The room was silent.

“Until then, I’ll take my leave. Thank you,” you left with a flourish, the adrenaline leaving you as soon as you made it into the hallway. You didn’t know where you were going, you just couldn’t stay still, your feet carrying you away from the room and the murmurs going on inside of it.

“Y/N, wait,” Yoongi called after you. You sped up, hoping there was a bathroom or something nearby that you could go hide in until Marianne showed up. “Stop walking,” Yoongi’s voice was stern.

You paused mid-step, turning to face him with a blank expression.

“Yes, was there an update from your strategy meeting since I left?” Yoongi rolled his eyes at your comment.

“Y/N, stop, I know what you’re doing. You’re shutting yourself off. I don’t blame you for standing up for yourself back there. But please don’t act like I wanted any part of that meeting,” Yoongi said, defending himself. Your confidence deflated slightly.

“Fine,” you flinched at how harsh you sounded. “I’m sorry. God, all I’ve said to you in the past 24 hours is ‘I’m sorry.’ And I am. I just…this is all…it’s a lot. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon, let alone under these circumstances.”

“My studio is a few floors below us. Come on, let’s get out of here while they figure it out,” Yoongi instructed. He walked past you, but you reached out, hand encircling his wrist to stop him. Your skin burned where it touched his.

“I wasn’t ready for any of this again. It’s all too much, too soon. If people find out who I am, my whole life will change, Yoongi. I-I don’t know if I can handle that.” Yoongi didn’t say anything, so you pulled your fingers away from his arm, expecting him to continue on his way to his studio.

Instead, he wrapped you tightly in his arms, pulling you close against him. He smelled like mint and coffee, and you closed your eyes at the familiarity of it, warmth blooming in your chest.

“It’ll be okay,” Yoongi mumbled, cheek pressed against the top of your head.

Enclosed in the comfort of his embrace, you decided to believe him.

Part 2 // Part 4

---

Taglist: @loveyoongles @agustd-2020 @delacyrose224 @crispychanniee @sunshinejunghoseokie @jinsearthh @alpacaparkaseok @sheebaba @diamonddia-mond

Want to be added to the tag list? Let me know!

Check out my other work! ❤️

#bts fluff #bts angst #bts fic #run away to you fic #bts fanfiction #bts series #min yoongi #bts yoongi #bts suga #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #suga #suga x reader #sugar x y/n #bts au fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

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Cravings ~ JJK [Request]

WORD COUNT: 1.7K

GENRE: established relationship, pregnancy au, fluffy with some angst

PAIRING: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader

A/N: I hope this is okay for you, I didn't want to go too dramatic with it as it involved pregnancy so I did this!

Throughout the whole of your pregnancy, you had been scared to do pretty much about anything on your own. Going out into the streets like you used to was hard since everyone knew who you were or rather who you were dating since Jungkook and your relationship had been admitted to everyone about 6 months ago. The only reason it was even outed was that you'd fallen pregnant and Jungkook no longer wanted to hide the fact that he was in a loving and committed relationship with someone.

"Baby please," You begged down the phone with Jungkook as you laid on the sofa in your house, legs hanging over the arm of the sofa as you rocked them back and forth.

"I'm busy babe I promise I'll stop by the store on my way home..." You rolled your eyes at Jungkook and looked at the time,

"That's not for another seven hours." You grumbled, you were craving the ben and jerry's birthday cake ice cream terribly and it was starting to bug you. All night long you'd had a craving for it but you'd run out last week and Jungkook kept forgetting to pick it up for you.

"Send one of the boys if you're busy, I need it. The baby and I need it," You whined as you tried to convince him but it wasn't going to work. Jungkook and the boys were already in enough trouble with always leaving work to go and get you everything you were craving. Jungkook had been in trouble with their manager that week for leaving the house at 4 am to go and get you McDonald's hashbrowns...Worth it though since you'd been craving them at all hours of the morning.

"Baby I can't, we're already in enough trouble." You sighed at him as you thought back on the manager yelling at him before.

"Fine. I-I'll go by myself," You slowly got up off the sofa, moving around when you were almost nine months pregnant wasn't the easiest of things to do. You pulled back the curtains on your window to see that the garden was empty of people, BigHit has issued a statement claiming that if anyone was caught on the private property they would be sued.

"Baby no. Stay at home. I'll bring some when I come home," You rolled your eyes at him,

"Fine. I'll stay at home." You lied as you waited for him to go back to work so you could go and get ready to go out. It was no big deal. You could stay hidden under a hoodie and sunglasses, it wasn't like you were the famous one in the relationship.

"Stay at home my ass," You mumbled as you began waddling up the staircase towards your bedroom, finding out some maternity leggings and a giant oversized hoodie that would at least make the bump look a little bit smaller than it was.

It wasn't so bad so far, the streets were empty and you'd driven yourself into town and parked far enough away from the store you actually wanted so no one would know you were inside. No one seemed to have noticed that it was you walking towards the store which was great. Maybe the fact that Bighit had threatened to file lawsuits was getting to them and they were going to finally leave you alone.

"Thank you, dear," An elderly woman said as you held open the door to the freezer store for her, you smiled softly before grabbing a basket and making your way straight to the dessert section of the store. The only thing you wanted to do was get the ice cream and head straight home, curl up on the sofa with a movie and just eat all you could before Jungkook got home and told you off for leaving the house without him.

Looking through the glass doors to see if you could spot your favourite flavour but it seemed as though they were out of stock, nothing but an empty section when the flavour should have been sitting.

"Excuse me?" You asked as a worker walked behind you carrying a clipboard, she turned to look at you with a smile and you smiled back at her.

"Could you tell me if you have any of the birthday cake ice creams in the back?" The worker - Jennie - began to look through the sheets on her clipboard trying to see if they'd had a delivery of it yet but it didn't seem as though there was anything inside. She started shaking her head putting the clipboard against her chest,

"Unfortunately we don't seem to have it but-" She reached into the fridge and pulled out a different tub.

"Their strawberry swirled one is even better, I craved this whenever I was pregnant." She laughed softly as she showed you the front of the tub, reading through what was inside you smiled brightly.

"I'll get this one," Your mouth watering at the thought of getting to have some kind of ice cream at all, the baby kicking as well.

"Someone else likes it too," You laughed as you placed four tubs into the basket and then grabbed two of Jungkook's favourites while you were at it.

"That will be-" Jenni who was standing at the counter stopped speaking when she looked up behind you, you glanced over your shoulder to see what she was so shocked by to see about one-hundred people all gathered outside of the store. Staring inside as they looked for you she looked back at you with wide eyes.

"Oh fuck." You bit down on your lip looking back down at the counter as you tried to keep yourself hidden,

"We don't even have this many people on sale day-"

"Sorry...I shouldn't have come out." You bit down on your lip again as you watched the manager lock the doors so that none of them could get inside. Jennie smiled sadly at you, she'd known who you were from the moment you were looking for ice cream but she'd done everything she could to make it seem as though she didn't.

"What's going on?" Her boss questioned as she walked in the direction of the till, looking at you as you began to rub the baby bump nervously.

"Sasaengs..." You mumbled slowly as you watched a bunch of them all take out their phones and begin to record everything that they could see. Jungkook and you had had to deal with them from the beginning of your relationship coming out, they seemed to appear anywhere and everywhere you went so you should have expected this really.

"Come and sit down." The elderly lady you'd held the door open for said as she pulled out one of the worker stools in an aisle, you waddled over and sat down beside her trying to calm down your breathing. There was nobody in the store except for you, the elderly lady and four other workers with their boss who was now staring down at you as she wondered how to go about this.

"Is there a back exit I can get out of? I don't really want to sit and face all of them." Thoughts of walking out of the front door began to cloud your mind and you whimpered feeling the baby kicking harder against your bladder.

"No, we only use the front door to get in and out..." The boss looked over at the door to see that the group of people only seemed to be growing larger inside as the minutes when by.

"I'll have to call my...My boyfriend," You whispered shyly as you took out your phone to call Jungkook to already see seventeen missed calls from him and a bunch of texts about how he told you to stay instead.

"Kookie?" You asked down the phone as it started to ring again, Jungkook was panting down the other side of the line as he rushed towards the store he knew you were at. The location had been tweeted out on twitter and shared by a bunch of people which meant BigHit saw it almost instantly.

"I'm coming now. I told you not to leave the house baby," He didn't seem angry with you but more disappointed than anything which made you feel bad for doing something you know you shouldn't have been doing.

"I really wanted the ice cream," You pouted as you let out a whine, looking over at the door to see that people were starting to move away from it and two large men stood by the door.

"I take it those are with you?" You giggled as you heard Jungkook making his way through the crowd of people, people screaming to him as he just tried to get to the door.

"They are." You looked at him at the door and the manager walked over to them, unlocking them to allow him inside and you smiled weakly hanging up the phone.

"I got your favourite if it makes you feel better." You held up the bag of ice cream and he sighed at you, shaking his head as he held out his hand for you to take.

"Come on, I have the car waiting outside and manager Sejin is taking your car." He told you as he reached into your jacket pocket to take out the keys and smile at you.

"You're not going to let me go out alone are you-"

"Baby, you're not even going to be at home alone, I've made sure to arrange your own personal guard to be with you at all times. You can make him get your ice cream," He chuckled as you both began to leave the store, ignoring the constant screams of questions and asking for photos as you made your way to the waiting black Range rover at the side of the road.

Bighit released a second statement about if anyone was caught following or harassing you that they would be sued as well. Jungkook didn't want to risk anything happening to you or your child for as long as he could help it. He was going to protect you until his last dying breath.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @rjsmochii @sw33tnight @bisexualmess007 @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block

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hisunshiine · 3 years

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Escape ✈︎ Chapter 1

✈︎ chapter 1: dear lucky ARMY... | ✈︎ Escape Series — 18+, Mature

✈︎ genre: none this chapter future smut, fluff, angst

✈︎ word count: 1,143 words

✈︎ pairing: none this chapter

✈︎ warnings: none this chapter

✈︎ summary: It was a running joke within the fandom that you all should just buy an island, move there, and have Namjoon be the president. That is, it 𝘸𝘢𝘴 a running joke, until one day on Twitter, it all came to a head. When the GoFundMe receives enough money and instructions to purchase said island, what choice is there to make but to do it?

✈︎ a/n: hi! this story is near and dear to me and @mrsparkjimin18′s heart! we started this story last year to help cope with covid-19 for both us and our friends who are readers! we hope that we can do the same for you and provide an escape. the first 2 chapters are short and start off slow, but i promise it picks up chapter 3 with our first pairing and some smut and then it doesn’t stop. lol

It has been a few weeks since you and the girls came up with the idea to start a GoFundMe, and donations have been flowing in. You receive a message from Vanessa, saying it’s urgent and to call her immediately.

“Nessa, what’s going on? What is so urgent?” You ask. You can hear her rapidly clicking the keys on her keyboard.

“Have you checked our GoFundMe today?” she asks. You wonder why she is asking, feeling nervous at the tone in her voice.

“No, have we reached our goal of twenty thousand dollars?! That would be amazing and it has only been--”

She cuts you off.

“Girl… no… w-we, I mean somebody, an anonymous donor donated an extremely generous amount, just check the account. I have to make sure I am not losing my mind.”

You open your laptop and pull up the account, when you see the donation you drop your phone and scream.

“Is this real?!?! I-I….WE ARE GOING TO BUY AN ISLAND!!!!!!” You remember that Vanessa is still on the phone.

“Hello?! Y/N!!!! What the hell? So I’m not crazy?!” She is just as excited as you are.

“No, you’re not...the donor also put a note of a few islands we could purchase. Well, what do you want to do?”

Vanessa answers quickly.

“We need to start looking into this donor's suggestions, like now.” You both agree to let the other admins of the page look into the islands and you will have to decide by tomorrow.

After researching all night, everybody has agreed to purchase a Caribbean Island: Long Caye, Belize. The island already has standing properties, enough for a decent amount of people to live in for starters, so there wasn’t any work that needed to be done right away.

Since everyone had come to an agreement on which island to choose, Vanessa reached out to the donor, notifying them that you all were thankful to them for not only their donation, but also their list of islands, as it made it easier for you all to make a choice. After a few days, of which you were growing more and more nervous, the donor finally messaged back and disclosed that they were willing to pay for a charter plane to transport 14 lucky people to the island.

Of course the seven of you will all be going, since you were the ones who came up with the idea. Vanessa suggested a Twitter Giveaway, with 7 lucky winners to come live on Bangtania Island. The giveaway contest will run for two weeks, and then upon it’s closing, the 7 winners will be chosen and then announced two weeks after. This would give you all enough time to go through the entries and select the 7 lucky people who would join your group of seven and fly to your newly acquired island, Bangtania.

The amount of people who entered the giveaway was insane. Of course there were those who didn’t believe that such a thing was real, but Vanessa posted the proof of the purchase on the giveaway account page, along with a video made with you and the 6 other girls, and now it was almost draining watching the notifications rack up. Daily you each took turns monitoring entries and adding the names to the raffle, cross checking entries with the word document to make sure there weren’t double entries from the same page.

You couldn’t wait till it was over, having already packed up your stuff as soon as you had seen the donations on GoFundMe had exceeded the amount needed; you just wanted to be done with all the bullshit and go live on your own island with other ARMY that you had made friends with on Twitter.

Sitting on the plane, 13 girls surrounding you laughing and drinking the complimentary champagne on board, you read over the email that everyone had received a few days before departure.

Hey guys, the donor sent this email to me and asked me to forward it to you all!

Dear lucky ARMY,

Congratulations on being one of the 14 to kick off this new venture. I ran across your GoFundMe while looking for worthwhile groups to donate to, and I saw what you had written about everything your fandom has gone through, and how you needed an escape. In these trying times, I can understand that need, and I hope that my donation was able to help you with your goal so that you will enjoy living on the island. We may not know each other, but I was so moved by your passion for your favorite group, that I have decided to continue to help you all out. The charity I have extended doesn’t just end at the plane, as I have decided to continue to donate to help your small island nation thrive, as it is a very good tax write off for me. Since you have no source of income from the island just yet, I will be helping send shipments to the island of what you need. It would be best to appoint someone to be in charge of things, like keeping track of food, water, toiletries, etc. so that you can stay stocked up for everyone. I will be sending a delivery to arrive before you get there of some basics that will help with getting started. You will find it in the main house. I trust Miss Vanessa has received the key to get everyone situated upon your arrival. I have already sent someone to set up the water and electricity, as well as internet access. Once there it will be prudent that you set up some type of form of government, unfortunately a country cannot function without one, but with so few people, this should not be difficult. Trust one another, and as your favorite boys say, love yourself, and love each other, and enjoy.

The rest of the email provided the addresses of the different buildings on the island, like the main house, the empty building that could be seen as a sort of town hall, and the convenient little storefronts off the very small port area for docking boats.

The storefronts were not actively in use, and one shop was an open room that was full of mailboxes for deliveries, and each of you was given your own for post, which was nice. You were all able to share your address with friends and family before leaving, instructing them with how to send you care packages and letters.

You looked up from your phone as you could hear a rather loud chorus of laughter; Talia had said something funny and Vanessa was hunched over wiping away tears from laughing so hard. Everyone on board was in good spirits, you couldn’t imagine it getting any better than this.

#hisunshiine #hisunshiine writings #hisunshiinewritings #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts au #bts story #bangtansorciere #bangtanuniversity #bangtanwhq #bangtaninn #mrsparkjimin18 #Escape Series #Escape #Escape BTS #BTS Escape Series #ot7 x reader

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littlelionsloves · 4 years

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Black Lives Matter

This is a compilation post with information on:

Resources for Black people

How to support the Black community

How to help protests

Donating (even if you have no money to spare)

Petitions

Why the police force needs to be defunded

Educating yourself as a non-Black person

The importance of talking about race with children

Link to google doc that will be regularly updated

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Resources for Black people

7 Virtual Mental Health Resources Supporting Black People Right Now

Free therapy services

National Queer and Trans Therapists of Color (Twitter, IG)

Harriet’s Apothecary (IG)

BEAM Collective (Twitter, IG)

Black Girl in Om (Twitter, IG)

---

How to support the Black community

Support Black brands, companies, organisations, creators & influencers

250 UK based Black influencers

25 books by Black authors

Replace brands by Black owned businesses

Black Nation App, find Black owned businesses

Black owned wellness brands

Black owned bookstores

Black owned restaurants

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Protests

How to protest

Ways to help protestors if you can’t protest

What to do if you’re stopped and searched (app)

Public Health Experts Say the Pandemic Is Exactly Why Protests Must Continue, by Shannon Palus

---

Donate

Donate even if you have no money: List of YouTube videos loaded with ads, all ad revenue goes towards various BLM organisations. Idea started by Zoe Amira, who posted an hour long video on YouTube with art and music by Black creators.

Black Lives Matter (Twitter, IG): Aims to eradicate white supremacy and build local power to intervene in violence inflicted on Black communities by the state and vigilantes.

Reclaim the Block (Twitter, IG): Organizes Minneapolis community and city council members to move money from the police department into other areas of the city’s budget that truly promote community health and safety.

The Bail Project (Twitter, IG): Provides free bail assistance to low-income individuals who are legally presumed innocent, and whom a judge has deemed eligible for release before trial contingent on paying bail.

National Bail Funds Network (Twitter, IG): Produces tools and resources for organizers using community justice tactics to creatively tackle multiple drivers of criminalization and incarceration— including, but not limited to, money bail, court fees and fines, probation and parole, pretrial detention & supervision, and immigration detention & supervision.

Unicorn Riot (Twitter, IG): Decentralized, educational, non-profit media organization of artists and journalists. Dedicated to exposing root causes of dynamic social and environmental issues through amplifying stories and exploring sustainable alternatives in today’s globalized world.

Know Your Rights Camp (Twitter, IG): Aims to advance the liberation and well-being of Black and Brown communities through education, self-empowerment, mass-mobilization and the creation of new systems that elevate the next generation of change leaders.

Fair Fight (Twitter, IG): Promotes fair elections, brings awareness to the public on election reform, advocates for election reform at all levels, and engages in other voter education programs and communications.

Black Visions Collective (Twitter, IG): Envisions a world in which ALL Black Lives Matter and aims to develop Minnesota’s emerging Black leadership to lead powerful campaigns.

Campaign Zero (IG): Aims to limit police interventions, improve community interactions, and ensure accountability.

Loveland Therapy Fund for Black Women & Girls (IG): Aims to bring opportunity and healing to communities of color, and especially to Black women and girls.

Black Earth Farms (IG): Grow, harvest, and deliver nutrient dense and chemical free food to low-income, houseless, and food desert communities.

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Petitions

Justice for George Floyd (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)

Justice for Ahmaud Arbery (x) (x) (x) (x)

Justice for Breonna Taylor (x) (x) (x) (x)

Justice for Tony McDade (x) (x) (x)

So many more petitions here

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Why the police needs to be defunded

Defund the Police (petition)

Email template to defund LAPD

Building A Police-Free Future

What Happened When A White Cop Decided Not To Shoot A Black Man, by Joe Sexton

Slave Patrol and the Origins of Policing, by Jacki Iyamah

The Racist Roots of American Policing, by Connie Hasset-Walker

Justices Rule Police Do Not Have a Constitutional Duty to Protect Someone, by Linda Greenhouse

Why the officers fired for the George Floyd killing could ultimately get their jobs back, by Sam Levin

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Educate yourself

Free Black History Library, created by Charles Preston

Anti-Racism Resources, compiled by Sarah Sophie Flicker and Alyssa Klein

Anti-Racist Resource Guide, created by Victoria Alexander

Pride started with ‘revolutionary riots’, by Tim Fitzsimons

Articles:

Being Black in Britain: The Civil Rights Movement They Never Taught You in School, by Jasmine Botchey

Uncovering the brutal truth about the British empire, by Marc Parry

Why People of Color Need Spaces Without White People, by Kelsey Blackwell

When is the last time you saw a white person killed online?, by Alia E. Dastagir

In Defense of Looting, by Vicky Osterweil

Fiction Books:

The Bluest Eye, by Toni Morrison

The Hate U Give, by Angie Thomas

Harbor Me, by Jacqueline Woodson

Non-Fiction Books:

The New Jim Crow, by Michelle Alexander

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, by Maya Angelou

The Fire Next Time, by James Baldwin

Between the World and Me, by Ta-Nehisi Coates

Don’t Touch My Hair, by Emma Dabiri

Women, Race, & Class, by Angela Y. Davis

White Fragility, by Robin DiAngelo

Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race. by Reni Eddo-Lodge

Ain’t No Black in the Union Jack, by Paul Gilroy

How To Be An Anti-Racist, by Ibram X. Kendi

Stamped from the Beginning, by Ibram X. Kendi

Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American History Teacher Got Wrong, by James Loewen

My Grandmother’s Hands, by Resmaa Menakem

So You Want to Talk About Race, by Ijeoma Oluo

The Color of Law, by Richard Rothstein

How To Argue With A Racist, by Adam Ruther-Ford

Me and White Supremacy, by Layla F. Saad

Black Minded, by Michael E. Sawyer

Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria, by Beverly Tatum

Documentaries:

The 13th

Explained: The Racial Wealth Gap

Time: The Kalief Browder Story

Who Killed Malcolm X?

What Happened, Miss Simone?

I Am Not Your Negro

The Death and Life of Marsha P. Johnson

The Black Panthers: Vanguard of the Revolution

16 Shots

Crrime + Punishment

Afro (German)

Wit is ook een kleur (Dutch)

Trop noire pour être française (French)

Films:

If Beale Street Could Talk

American Son

Just Mercy

Selma

Loving

Series:

Self Made

When They See Us

Dear White People

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Talk about race with children

Children see things differently

BBC Bitesize lesson on racism

Resource Roundup

They’re Not Too Young to Talk About Race

31 children's books to support conversations on race, racism and resistance

Diverse kids’ books

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Don’t stay silent.

#blm #black lives matter #black lives matter resources

437 notes · View notes

shiberpostshere · 4 years

Text

The Kiss Thief - Park Seonghwa Social Media AU

38. Chapter Thirty Two: No, It’s Ryan Reynolds!✨

Previous Part✨ Next Part ✨

Masterlist of the AU✨

Word Count: 6.7K (Buckle up, its time for a ride)

This Chapter Contains: Giggle worthy chaos and tooth decaying fluff. (An Annoyed San too.)

It’s a regular Sunday. A quiet regular Sunday. An unusually quiet, regular Sunday that you don’t experience often as a college student.

An unusually quiet regular Sunday except for Yeri and Jongho’s loud, harmonious snores that vibrated through the lazy (almost) evening silence of the apartment while you had sneaked out like a thief bound with tinkling shackles out of the front door.

It was exactly five minutes before 5 O’clock and you knew what noise pollution would commence once the short hand stopped perfectly atop the number five.

The neighbour above starts angrily vacuuming to release their pent up frustration of the day or maybe to act as a thoughtful warning alarm to wake the other residents who might be napping above the universal napping time limit and the snarky middle aged lady beside, who begins banging pots and rattling spoons to prepare either her dinner or for a secret time travel battle she has to attend every single night to save the history for the sake of the present.

You have a generous set for neighbours.

Thankfully, you aren’t currently present in your apartment to experience the brutal murder of your ears.

Unfortunately, you’re sandwiched in between San and Wooyoung in the shared wide back seats of the bus, stuffed to the absolute brim with sweaty and jumpy people.

The serenity of the weekend ended when you willingly decided to step onto the Bus No. 7 for the following reasons:

Number One, You and Wooyoung don’t drive and San owns a motorcycle that cannot carry three people at once, not without getting an overloaded vehicle ticket by pulling a stunt like that,

Number two, you have nothing better to do on a Sunday evening other than watch Yeri and Jongho scream about the WIFI and college website because they couldn’t select the classes they wanted fast enough,

Number three, you were unable to escape from Wooyoung’s persistence but you had to get out and inhale some fresh air of the outside.

It is a secret that you had isolated yourself in the sweet ol’ bedroom (in the name of preparing for a workshop), to take a five minutes rest which gradually progressed into knotting up your bones by rolling on the bed 24/7 and temporarily disrupting the serotonin production while watching sad movies, and

Number four, San cashed out a favour from that one time he fetched a folder from your dorm and drove fifteen minutes to deliver it because your degree was on the line. Which is why, this particular evening you need to help him out with whatever he wants to do at this Garden plus Research Centre for Thesis purposes.

“The Thesis and Freebies Date”, term coined by Jung Wooyoung, free entertainment, food finder and a plus one, on Sunday 17th of May, 5:30 AM on the dot.

On top of all these reasons sat Seonghwa’s last text message like a cherry on top of a cupcake of complaints.

He sent you a picture of his americano that was loaded with ten pumps of syrup, “I’m drinking coffee😇”

What coffeeee????!!?!?!?

Everything has failed you today. The public transportation system, your emotional support boy and your unhealthy obsessive complex believing that anything above two pumps of syrup is not coffee because you cannot handle personal preferences.

“Why on earth is this bus full like it’s the last bus available to escape a fucking zombie aopcalypse. What is this ‘Bus to Busan’?” Your voice comes out with pure seething under your breath for only your friends to hear but you catch the old lady beside San narrowing her eyes at you with suspicion.

San, engrossed in scrolling through his twitter and sipping his (proper) americano is least interested about your discomfort.

“Oh I don’t know! I did suggest taking the subway instead but two idiotic people whined for five minutes straight to get on this bus.” His response is monotonous, attempting to contain himself from bursting.

The pinching statement is directed towards you and Wooyoung who grumbled about the group having to walk after getting off the subway when the bus seemed like a better option that stopped right on the street opposite of your destination.

Wooyoung’s frame shifts slightly onto your small seat as the hefty man beside him wiggles for space. “Yeah, Jesus Christ, if only I had had an epiphany about how crowded the bus was going to be before we board it.”

If only you had epiphanies.

The bus was mildly crowded when all of you had entered but became packed within the next ten minutes of collecting passengers at merely three stations.

Poor Wooyoung is scared for his life knowing he will be ironed flat by the man if the bus jumps over a speed breaker or God forbid, decides to halt abruptly. The fear is relatable because the boy standing in front will collapse right onto your already shaky lap under any abrupt movements made by the bus.

After five minutes of distracting himself, San shoves his phone in the pocket of his jeans and leans into your space to jab a finger at two of you simultaneously. “Yeah, Jesus Christ, if only my lazy ass friends knew how to walk but they left their legs in the semester break.” He accuses.

He is absolutely right.

Every student, excluding the few exceptionally productive ones, collectively lost the ability to walk unless the end goal was acquiring food, money, grades and work experience.

Wooyoung throws his hands up out of exasperation, “And you’re hundred percent sure that the subway isn’t packed?”

You nod vigorously, supporting his argument because it doesn’t lead to admitting that you’re wrong and not once you’ll acknowledge the possibility of the missed subway having much more space than this body heat microwave of a bus that you two insisted on boarding until San gave in and agreed.

“Yeah. Also, we’re accompanying you for your work, San.” You chide in to transfer the blame like a ten year old child and nudge the grouchy boy away from the seat with your right arm.

San’s left brow twitches. He is definetly holding back a snarky retort.

“Yes, yes, it’s all my fault.” He drawls on his reponse and turns his head away to ignore your presence entirely.

Apparently, it was not an unusually quiet, regular Sunday for the residents of Unit 8181 also known as the occupants of the apartment of Seonghwa and Friends who have been on the edge due to a mysterious late night incident that was not revealed to you no matter how many times you pried.

Mingi and Yeosang were sprawled together on the couch, hidden beneath a bunch of weighty duvets which did not look like it had two people sleeping underneath it until they started untangling themselves from each other.

Wooyoung was showering, apparently for almost an hour to scrub away his drowsiness as stated by San who has been extremely cranky and constantly keeping himself occupied with his phone and swishing and fixing his posh, sky blue cardigan (until you entered the kitchen and he dragged you out with him, suddenly all smiles).

Yunho was the only one who appeared somewhat himself, still in his pajamas, folding questionably large amount of laundry. He mentioned ‘monopoly game night’ but you didn’t buy that excuse.

They were engaged in constant back and forth, ‘Who Can Shut the Other Guys Up In The Most Creative Way’ contest.

Yeosang won after a house slipper flew out of his room, wheezed past your legs and landed right near the shoe rack as you stood there frozen. The aim was commendable but the action was concerning.

Other than sarcastic remarks, all of them shared swollen eyebags due to the lack of sleep.

A sleepy Mingi glared at you with his droopy eyes for thirty seconds, mumbled out, “Oh, it’s just you.”, trudged towards his room and slammed the door behind him.

The apartment floor was spotless, not one obvious clutter in sight.

Seonghwa will surely name everything he owns to them in his will once he returns in the coming week and sees the glistening state of the apartment.

It reminds you that you, too, need to take care of that one chair that holds the tower of toppling dirty clothes in your room before he sees them and gives you an earful of nagging.

A bead of cold sweat travels down the crevice of your neck.

“How much longer until we arrive?” You committ the mistake of directing the question to the volcanic mountain prepared to erupt any minute now.

The bus jostles with a screech, collectively swinging everyone forward with a painful jerk. Shared sighs and groans echo throughout the bus.

Staying put in your seat in this bus is more challenging than a one minute plank.

“I don’t know, he probably knows.” Wooyoung responds with a shrug, holding onto his dear life.

“Maybe you should walk through this sea of people and ask the bus driver himself.” San suggests with an imposed smile, causing your own lips to stretch into a false one.

“What a fantastic suggestion! I would love to use you as a human shield to push through this crowd and get to the front.” You answer, crossing your arms below your chest.

He offers you his entire irked attention.

Wooyoung’s forehead dives into the palm of his hand. He’d rather hide than let the passengers of the bus know that he is associated with the two of you.

The agitated boy rolls his eyes, lips pressing into a thin line before he launches his lecture. “Okay, you know what (y/n)---”

“Oh for goodness sake! Young man and young woman! Resume your couple’s banter at your place, don’t fight in public places.” The old lady whose patience was being tested this entire journey voices out her protest.

You’re stunned for a good moment before your heads snap towards the lady, wearing similar offended expressions.

Meanwhile, Wooyoung is holding onto his bubbling laughter. His palms having slid down from his forehead to his lips to prevent himself from laughing out loud like a maniac.

“We are not a couple!” You both answer in a hurried chorus.

After the frantic clarification, your eyes meet and the absurdity of the old lady’s comment wipes every single trace of the previous exchange.

Both of you break together into timed, soft giggles and the chain reaction pulls in Wooyoung who laughs into his hands to control the volume.

The lady shakes her head at your reaction. “Well, then, not a couple, don’t fight and let me ride to my book club meeting in peace.” She states her demand, expression indicating that she is cooking incorrect judgements about your group in her mind.

San and you offer her a quick sincere apology, suppressing the amusement derived from her assumption.

“You two in a romantic relationship? More like a disastorous pair of wannabe edgy emo and a pissed caffeinated fantasizer. Nah, totally incompatible.” Wooyoung mutters under his breath.

“He’d get rid of me in ten minutes.” You whisper your reasoning.

San feels the old lady’s eyes boring holes into the back of his head, his arm nudges yours gently, “Make that five. Okay now, zip up.” His eyes and voice both firmly plead.

“Yes sir.” You reply and shrink in your seat further to make room for Wooyoung to breathe.

They’re quite a handful duo, alright, but they’re your handful duo and they handle you as well.

After ten minutes of bumping, shoving and tossing around the entire bus like popcorns, the three of you miraculously step out in one piece.

You take a good five minutes to regain your normal pace of breathing again.

The relaxing wind carrying the gentle floral aroma from the garden calms your suffocated senses.

Ah, finally, freedom from people.

The bus was overdosed with CO2.

Your lips were zipped for most of the ride in order to avoid receiving another sneer from the old lady and making sure you don’t run out of the very last oxygen molecule present in the bus.

Wooyoung is stretching every limb of his body after being pressed in between the sandwich grill consisting of you and the giant man.

“You know what?” He pulls out a little black hair tie to control the little locks ruffling against his eyes. “Ditch me the next time I whine about not walking because that was literal hell. I am never stepping into another bus, ever again.” The determination present in his voice is almost convincing. Almost.

“You’re going to start whining when it’s time to return.” Adds San, after double checking every pocket present on his clothing.

An overwhelmingly tiring yawn falls through your lips.

“Yeah, dude, no false promises.” You inch closer towards San to show your support.

Wooyoung’s exhausted face transforms into an unamused one, “You’re shameless.”

Harsh but true.

“No, no, no, you last minute side switchers, get away from me. I am not claiming you.” Ignoring your presence, he simply walks towards the main entrance of the garden.

A sickeningly sweet smile appears on your lips. “Hey, wait, I promise, I won’t take Wooyoung’s side ever again!” You say in a singsong manner, taking wide steps to catch up by San’s side.

“Where do you think you are going?” The betrayed one gets a hold of your backpack and pulls you back with a forceful tug.

Your shoes brush harshly against the concrete pavement. He accomplishes the task of slowing you down and makes a run for San, wheezing loudly.

“Jung Wooyoung!” You cry out loud at his actions, your backpack flailing out of your arms.

He treads beside his unbothered friend, front facing you from a distance. “We need to meet the professor at the research centre anyway, keep yourself busy until then!” A wink and a cackle, then he grabs San by his shoulders and disappears inside at an astonishing speed.

Like a little kid whose ice cream has been snatched away, you stand there watching San’s waving hand and Wooyoung’s bouncy ponytail fading away.

A strong inhale and a gentle exhale, you try to calm the rapid heaving of your chest.

“Ah, whatever! They’ll text me once they’re done.” Uttering the assuring words to yourself, you fix the carelessly hanging backpack and set course to occupy yourself in the garden until they’re done with whatever they have to do at the research centre.

This is not the first time they have pulled this prank of abandoning you just for laughs and then frantically calling with the classic bait of “yo, come over at this food truck, we’re paying😏”

They throw the same bait under any circumstances and it works pure magic on any living being who lives for eating. Even Seonghwa caves in, and your willpower is -2 compared to Seonghwa’s 10+ patience.

Once you step inside the garden, you’re sure they have ditched you with good intentions as your eyes take in the lavish surroundings.

The green of nature is widespread throughout in the form of sturdy and lean trees, recently mowed grass and snipped shrubs peeking in between, all sprinkled with colourful little flowers like twinkling stars on a clear night sky. A gentle breeze whistles by within small intervals, rustling the leaves with the faintest crackling sound.

There are feeble chirps of birds, hiding in their nests to sleep for the night.

It is heaven on earth as the golden glow of the sun settles upon the scene.

The lulling fragrance of roses carried along with the wind urges you to roll on the blanket of the grass and maybe even take a nap after tiring yourself but you know you’ll be thrown out because there are watchful guards scattered around.

For once, you’re grateful that they left you behind.

You’d rather take a walk around the garden while listening to serene songs rather than awkwardly wait behind them as they converse with the said professor they’re here to meet.

I should explore a little before San gets into his Plant Geek Mode.

A major path from the main entrance splits in several small, stone tracks, like a maze to explore.

The region is vast, tranquil and maintained, no wonder a research centre lies somewhere in this arboretum.

You notice the informative display of the map, standing tall, indicating what lies in between and at the end of every track, piquing your explorer fantasy. There is a stack of small, handy maps for visitors to carry as well.

You grab one, deciding upon the center most lane with your earphones playing the enchanting tune of Like a Flowing Wind by Day6 in a low volume.

“The North Lane leads towards the green house and the research centre.” You murmur, studying the contents of the map with much concentration. “Wooyoung and San probably went that way.” You throw a quick glance behind before resuming your stroll.

The trail you’re currently walking on is the West Way, sheltered with tall towering trees and the Grand Elixir Fountain that lies at the end.

You neatly fold the brochure and tuck it safely inside your pocket, saving the next spots to visit together once you regroup.

Surprisingly, the garden doesn’t have an overflowing crowd.

There are quite a lot of people occupying the benches and seating areas, mostly couples. You notice quite a few students, assuming they are, with their laptops and notebooks, surveying or either sitting in a formation to share their findings.

Everyone is invested in themselves, in their own little world due to which the place feels quite private, snug and pleasant.

The greenery, the sounds of nature, the music and soft whispers creating one whole atmosphere of contentment.

It has been named Golden Blooms for a reason indeed. Except the Research Centre part, we’re going to ignore that for now.

Seonghwa would absolutely love this place. There is nothing not to love about this. You can sketch a million ways of spending time here together.

You don’t want to be a girlfriend like that but you’re to be a girlfriend like that.

A picnic after a long hectic week of continuous classes to unwind while spending quality time together, under a birch tree that casts a wide shadow beneath to watch the sunset while sharing the most mundane and silliest stories of your week and snacking on the collective bag you two usually pack before heading out for your Saturday Sunset Dates.

Maybe you’ll have to give up the spot due to its popular demand but it’ll be alright nonetheless. Instead, you’ll resort to taking every lane to check what lies at the end as Seonghwa’s personal playlist will be the perfect background music.

The day will end with a hearty dinner and crashing in either’s bedroom, cuddling together where he always insists on being the little spoon and you always give in.

Oh god, I went too far.

If just the thought has you feeling immensely giddy, how exhilarating would it feel to actually spend a day like that?

Back to present, (Y/N), back to present.

The uneven stone trail comes to an end as your shoes sink into the bed of the grass. Your next steps feel extremely light.

Walking on this grass is the closet one can experience how walking on a cloud feels like. You constrain yourself from removing your socks and shoes and running around on the grass like a madman--

Holy Shit.

The Grand Elixir Fountain is a masterpiece.

Rather than blindingly white, it is a comforting shade of evanesce beige. The sculptures surrounding the circumference are alluring rather than intimidating of mythical water creatures from numerous mythologies.

A water nymph settles at the heart of the fountain on a wave with water sprouting from the pot she’s embracing.

The gurgling water simmers down onto another platform shaped like a lotus, little droplets splashing on the people standing close by the edge and then gliding down from the platform into the bottom expanse to become a slow, rippling stream.

The Fountain is a high lord, you are a mere peasant. The Fountain is the moon and you’re a small star. The Fountain is queen bee and you’re a worker bee. The Fountain is a high quality gaming PC and you’re a laptop you had to buy with an acceptable graphic card because you’re a college student who is surviving.

Maybe you’re not the best with creative descriptions but it’s okay you’re a law student any way.

Creative writing is Yeosang’s forte and he worries about it plenty.

“Seonghwa can’t be here but I can send him some pictures.” Pulling out your phone, you scan the area.

An old couple are seated on a bench to the far right admiring the view, bunches of people pass by once a while either to leave or enter the area and a small group of friends are circled in a corner preoccupied within themselves.

“Okay, nothing to see here, just a college girl fangirling over a beautiful fountain.” You say it with the intent of addressing the people present but it is mostly directed towards yourself to not get embarrassed before you engage in a long photo session full of fascination over a fountain at an arboretum.

Okay, alright, let’s get this over with.

The cause of your dubiousness is Jongho.

He has pointed out several times that while taking photos you tend to get absorbed and switch into questionable positions just to score a worthy shot.

You somehow manage to capture moderate looking full shots without getting any uncanny looks from the visitors around with only one close up shot left.

The star of the fountain, the water nymph.

It’s alright. Hopefully nobody finds you getting on one knee to capture a decent picture of the fountain uncanny.

You’re just a harmless college girl who wants to text her boyfriend, excite him about your possible future dates and hunt for food while waiting for the two little devils to return and get working before it’s too late.

Gentle sprinkles splash onto your face as you move a little closer with careful steps to find the best spot. The water is enticing on this boiling day.

You hold your phone up, adjusting the angle to your liking. “Okay that’s good.”

Before you can press the capture button, a pair of hands lock around your waist, someone’s weight settling on your shoulder.

“No, shift it a little more to the right.” A voice, obscured by the earphones, speaks extremely close to your ear, sending a quivering sensation down your spine.

The first instinct is to freeze, your entire body numbs at the sudden action, heart beating at an alarming speed.

It is followed by a startling scream of having a stranger’s arms wrapped around your body. The scream pierces through the placidity of the garden, birds from the trees flying away to safety out of fright.

Finally, the adrenaline rush kicks in, your physical senses registering the situation and your reflexes activate.

The phone still connected with the earphones flies out of your hands and ears, elbows diving back to land double smacks on the intruder’s stomach to get him off your back.

The old couple look into your direction with a panicked expression and the entire group nearby jilts up and dashes towards you to investigate the source of the scream.

You turn around to inspect the trespasser who has landed flat on his butt, clutching onto his stomach as continuous groans and curses fall through his lips.

“(Y/N)! What the hell!” The obscurity long gone, you recognize the familiar voice and its owner.

Losing the energy in your legs, you fall down into a squatting position. “Seonghwa?” In a panicked state and a hesitant voice, you call his name.

“No, it’s Ryan Reynolds.” Mockingly, he whimpers, trying to regain his knocked out senses.

It is indeed your boyfriend who is currently supposed to be in Japan but is in pain because you landed two good elbow punches right on his stomach after his 4 hours of excitement at the airport and two hours of flight and it is definitely, hundred percent confirmed especially, after his eyes meet yours, full of pain and shooting imaginary daggers at you.

Seonghwa expected a surprised embrace on his return. Anything but two blows right on his abdomen.

“Park Seonghwa!” You exclaim.

“Nope, no, I am not Park Seonghwa anymore.” He states in a faltering tone.

“Miss, are you alright?” A boy from the far away friend circle interjects, stopping in front of you. “Is he bothering you?” His fingers wrap around your arms to pull you up.

His other two friends help Seonghwa but with a much constrained grab on his arms.

You look at your boyfriend being held by the two strangers and then at the boy, eyes performing a few puzzled double takes.

“Miss?” The boy reiterates his query.

You’re dumfounded, your thoughts hazy.

Collecting the remaining strength in your body, your hands fly in gestures of denial. “No, no, that’s my boyfriend.”

The boys appear skeptical. They exchange disbelieving glances.

“Are you sure? If he’s really bothering you, we can call the police right now.” One of the boys holding your boyfriend suggests with the intentions of your safety.

The frenzied senses simmer down second by second, your hand reaches out to free him from the strangers’ hold. “No, no. Thank you so much for your help but there has been an misunderstanding, that’s all.”

The boys release him and you replace their hold by linking his arm.

“He is really my boyfriend. I was just surprised.” You state with complete assurance.

“It’s also my fault for creeping up behind her. Thank you for watching out. We’re sorry for the disturbance.” Seonghwa takes the cue and bows down a little to offer a sincere apology.

His other hand rests atop your bound one. Your gaze stays taut on him, following his actions to apologize as well.

The boys notice your relaxed figure beside him. “Ah alright, so it was a misunderstanding.”

You nod frantically. “Yes, yes, it was. We’re sorry.” You say politely.

Calculating the situation, the boys exchange final greetings before trusting your relationship and leave you two with a, ‘Be careful with your surprises!’

The surroundings stop still until Seonghwa unlinks your arms to intertwine your fingers instead and bends down to pick up your phone.

“Should we sit somewhere and talk?” He suggests in a composed tone.

“Oh, right, yes.” You answer, mentally occupied collecting the dispersed bits of your comprehension grip.

You two settle on the broad bench, previously occupied by the old couple who left after the ruckus, facing each other.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” You search for his eyes that meet yours in a span of millisecond after the raised enquiry.

Your fingers contract and expand with hesitancy near his abdomen where you, or more accurately, your reflexes stroke him a blow. Eyes fluctuate up and down, from his face to the injured area, teeth abusing the lower lip with worry.

His hands catch and close around your awkward ones, “It hurts but I am fine. It might be bruised but it’ll be gone with time.”

You look at him, face full of regret, “Seonghwa, I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright, (Y/N).” He says with the most assuring look that there is in this world, “I mean it.”

You were worried that he might be mad about the commotion but him unlinking your arms in order to hold your hand was an indication enough that he wasn’t.

His anger is often intelligible. He needs the time to stay mad, cool down and talks only when he is ready. The time creates an emotional distance and that distance is unbearable until his heart is ready to resolve.

He doesn’t hold petty grudges. He certainly forgives but he doesn’t forget. Instead, he draws the line in the relationship to grow apart naturally.

You happened to experience it once when he was conversing with a senior who had given him a hard time and oh boy, the line he drew was fiery and bone chilling cold at the same time.

“So, that was definitely not what I expected after I decided to surprise you.” He confesses, his eyes mellow, “I should’ve listened to Hongjoong when he said that the idea is too sappy.”

While he speaks, you’re occupied with staring at him like a hawk with bulbous eyes.

“What happened?” He prompts you to speak, a fond smile on his lips. “Cat got your tongue?” His fingers fix the disheveled hair resting on your forehead.

His eyes hold such raw warmth while he merely tucks little strands behind your ears that you fail to realize you have tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Hey, why are you crying?” His expression shifts into a concerned one. “What happened?” He probes further.

Before you register your actions, your hand is flying to land a soft blow on his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me you were returning today!”

Maybe the volcanic eruption that was swirling inside San somehow descended into you. The difference is, his was motivated by rage and yours might be motivated by mortification.

He retrieves his hand to hold the area you’re attacking, gaping as he rubs the sore spot.

“Why are you hitting me!” His expression is muddled.

Seonghwa expected a surprised embrace on his return. Anything but you hitting him after he attempts to calm you down as his plan of surprise fails worse than the time he had failed history in sixth grade.

Your hand reaches out to land another gentle smack. “What are you! A freaking saint! Why didn’t you tell me!”

Even you are not aware why the outlet chosen by your feelings is hitting your loving and caring boyfriend who planned such a great surprise that you managed to ruin by knocking him straight into the abdomen with your pointy elbows.

“Wait, what--” Your words only further deepen his confusion.

The next smack or rather love tap, as per your definition, doesn’t get through as his hands are quick to catch yours by the wrists.

“Why are you hitting me babe?” He tilts his head to the side. “You’re hitting me because I am nice?” He lifts his right brow. “What, a saint?” A playful smile lingers on his lips.

The audacity of this man to act coy with you when you are full of all sorts of emotions whirling within you like a raging tornado. The audacity of this perfectly, perfect man!

With your slightly puffy eyes and tears stained cheek, you profess. “I am embarrassed okay! I am really embarrassed, I screamed so----”

A tch sound comes from him, followed by a, “Idiot.”

He pulls you into him through the hold he has on your wrists, your chest colliding with his. His arms wrap around your waist in a secure manner, head resting sideways onto the comfort of your shoulder that he dearly missed.

You melt like an ice cream on a hot day under his touch, taking no time to find content in his embrace, face nestling into his warm neck.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He removes one hand from your waist to offer comforting caresses on the back of your head. “I don’t know what I expected your reaction to be. Honestly, this particular one didn’t even cross my mind.”

You lift your head from his neck but he quickly returns it down again.

“I didn’t expect you to appear in front of me a week before your actual arrival either.” You speak in a muffled voice.

He pauses his stroking for a second, “I knew you were clueless but I didn’t know you were this clueless.”

“Excuse me!” You shuffle in his hold but he has you latched onto him.

He nestles further into your hold, almost pulling you onto his lap out of habit.

“Seonghwa!” Palms pressing against his chest, you try to scuffle away and receive a disgruntled noise from him.

Having performed his action only halfway through, your right leg sits on top of his left thigh and you leave it there to dangle idly.

“Dude, we’re in a public place.” You remind him, placing a sneaky little peck on his neck.

It’s the courage after announcing you’re an idiot to the entire world.

He is astounded by your actions but definitely not as much as you are.

Seonghwa expected a surprised embrace on his return. Anything but you mentioning that you’re in public and then proceeding to plant the softest kiss on his neck, not that he minds the latter.

“Wise words coming from you in a public place.” His thumbs trace circles on your collar bones, voice adding an extra emphasis to the ‘public’.

He squeezes you tightly and moves you in his hold like you’re his own personal teddy bear causing laughter to escape from your lips.

“Giving you a basic hug after you come back after almost a month and a half?” You declare like you have performed some high and mighty act, “No, that is not enough to express my excitement, I had to smash out my love on you, babe.”

His face dawns an unimpressed look. “Yup, I made a mistake coming home.”

Your own words cause your face to scrunch up with cringe. “Yeah, that was too much, don’t talk about this in front of anyone, ever again.”

You missed him. God, you missed him so much.

His long hair is intact, not a single strand has been snipped. He looks as stunning as you imagined him to be. His navy blue coat may have been washed with a different detergent than the one you are familiar with but the earthy smell of his regular perfume is present.

The only new additions on him that you can notice right away is the blinding glow on his sleep deprived face and the abstract patterned scarf wrapped neatly around his neck.

“I missed you.” You wish to say it as softly as possible but you end up blurting out the words.

He smiles with twinkles in his eyes. “I know, idiot. I missed you too.”

You rest your palms on his cheeks and press them hard, lips protruding out in a pout. Pulling him in, you offer him a brief peck.

A long one is saved for later when in private.

The heat on his cheeks is an evidence that he is taken aback by your bold actions.

“First a kiss on the neck and now a long peck?” He smirks, eyebrows dancing up and down. “You’ve become quite gutsy within a month and a half huh?”

You fawn, “and you’re still carrying your mischievous habits with you! I was praying for you to leave them behind during your vacation. Did you achieve nothing?”

“Come here you!” His hand clasps behind your neck but this time he connects his lips to the side of your forehead to plant the deepest kiss.

You shriek as the prolonged peck soon transitions into pillowy lips peppering feathery kisses on every little endearing spot he discovers to shower his love.

Unable to suppress your delight, subdued giggles bubble out of you.

The delight of having him by your side again is indescribable. The current state of happiness you’re feeling is indescribable.

You feel his hovering lips expanding into a smile, foreheads faintly clashing together as you two laugh your heart out.

There are tears forming in your eyes but this time due to happiness rather than humiliation.

Your eyes catch the sun dipping below the horizon, shooting colourful rays as it bids goodbye for the day. “Seonghwa, look, the sunset, it’s so beautiful.” You note while he pulls you into him sideways.

He hums, turning around to admire the view, “Oh wow, that’s......beautiful.”

Time slows down just for the sun to submerge into the horizon with its glory. The orange, pink, purples and blues of the sky press mute on the world for the briefest interval.

He ruffles your hair, pulling you out of a trance, “And that’s our cue to leave.”

It takes special effort to abandon his comforting hold and get back up on your two feet.

The disappointment lasts a mere second as his fingers quickly interlace with yours. “Where to next?” He asks.

He takes slow steps. You stick close by, half of your body weight leaning into him but he doesn’t seem to mind.

You consider your choices for a moment, the grin ever present on your lips, “How about we take a walk and then drive to the river side? I heard there will be star gazing event later at night.”

He looks at you impressively with a questioning smile. “Oh really, who told you that?” A gentle gleam of fondness floats in his eyes.

His heart is swelling with love, your presence is comfortable.

You channel your best know-it-all face, “Oh, you know, Wooyoung, San and I were planning to--”

The sentence stops midway as you remember, Wooyoung and San!

Your movements halt, “Wait, Wooyoung and San!”

He cracks up at your delayed realization.

“They’ll be fine.” His fingers offer a gentle flick on your forehead, attempting to tap some sense into it, “Unless, you know, you want them to continuously comment during our date about how my arrival disrupted their last night’s sleep.” He reaches out for his pocket to pull out his phone but you’re quick to prevent the said action.

“No, no, no, no.” Your reaction amuses him further. “That’s not what I meant. I am glad they ditched me, goodness, never been so glad that someone left me behind, swear to god.” The flurry of words scatter everywhere but the intended meaning has been received by him.

“And what else do you have planned for the night?” He asks, walking straight, exaggerating the breadth of his shoulders.

“My fantastic company, Seonghwa, what else do you need?” In a wounded voice, you question.

He shakes his head.

“No?”

“No.”

“Fine, tonight’s dinner is on me, no budget. What do you want to eat?” You present your best offer in the most sugar coated tone.

His jaw drops in a dramatic fashion you’ve never witnessed in your life, “That’s it? Woman, I flew in today to surprise you today and that’s it?”

You stand on your tiptoes to whisper a special spell in his ear. “Who said that would be it?”

The rasp in your voice has goosebumps rising on his skin.

“What do you mean?” He stares down, eyes wide.

“Hey, by the way, how did you know I was near the fountain?” You quickly change the subject, your thoughts running wild and heart ready to pounce out to run a hundred mile marathon.

“What do you mean?” He repeats, eager to receive an answer.

His innocent smile has been replaced by a devilish smirk.

His constant questioning and hopeful gape has you regretting your previous words, causing warmth to spread on your face.

Flustered, you recite your question for the second time, “Tell me, how did you know?”

“It was a guess. I haven’t forgotten about your pigeon feeding adventures near the mall fountain” His answer is concise, to the point and hurried. “Now, tell me, what do you mean?”

He finishes the topic within a few seconds, arm nudging persistently against the side of your stomach.

This man. Oh god, this man.

“You have a great memory! You remember everything!” The fake enthusiasm and flustered laughter that is evident in your answer has him laughing. “Oh, look, we’re here!” You announce, feeling grateful once you spot the main exit getting closer with every step.

“What did you mean?” He takes quick steps to stand in front of you, his hand leaving yours.

“Seonghwa! Stop it, don’t get back on your teasing shenanigans so quickly, give it a day.” You say as casually as possible, stepping aside to continue on your way. “I’ve embarrassed myself and you quite enough for today.”

Seonghwa slings his arm around your shoulder from behind, “Yeah, alright, we’ll see about that later.” He mimics your casual tenure. “I guess.” He adds, hinting at your suggestive statement.

You nod in agreement, appearing calm and cool, “Yeah, I guess, we will.”

“You little tease.” His free hand gives your left cheek a little squeeze, leaving a light aching.

You stumble a little on your way out of the garden, “If I am a tease that makes you the devil that you truly are.”

“I agree, I am a beast.” He really, actually, dares to say that with his whole chest, out loud.

“Yeah, sure, little baby.” Your fingers mockingly stroke his chin with a pout

He chuckles, changing his position to properly stand by your side. “Enough of that now, let’s go, I am starving.”

“Yup, let’s go, tender beast.” You imitate his own words on him.

“No, seriously, stop that.” He declares sternly.

You do a motion of zipping your lips, holding your free hand up in surrender.

Oh, how the tables have been turning constantly today. You can now understand why Seonghwa never gets off your back and it looks like you will not be getting off his tonight.

Metaphorically and literally.

Meanwhile, Woosan

San, who has been talking with the professor for almost thirty minutes now: It was pleasure meeting up with you Sir

Wooyoung, releasing a sigh of relief beside his friend because he didn’t understand a single word that was exchanged, internally: Finally

Suddenly, San: Oh btw sir I had another question

Wooyoung, ready to create a rampage right there and then, grabbing a chair to smash it on the ground: OH MY FREAKING GOD DAMNIT CHOI SAN YOU---

🌸

A/N: OH MY GOD I CAN FINALLY POST THIS, I CAN FINALLY BREATHE EASY

I started writing this last Saturday and it went through so many drafts and versions, getting cut down to this one. It took me a week mostly due to other commitments. I edited this once and I am sure it still has teeny tiny mistakes but please look past that for now. I will correct it whenever time grants me.

Also, I would really love to know what you think about this chapter! Please let me know, I would really appreciate that 🥺🥺🥺💕

I know it has been a long time since the last update but I reposted the masterlist with the final update schedule and it will update and end accordingly as per that.

(Also the woosan scene is a little exaggeration, they had a rough night, as you will see in the bonus)

🌸 Taglist:

@enigmaticsal @stardusthyuck @missiopk @preets-kpop-world @sanisms @jiyeons-closet @hongjoongsnoona @veeeenus4 @mochibabycakes @vhschs @jaeminbluee @vantclavs @f-iyan @staywritten @yellow-wxve @uppiespuppy @uppiespuppy @mingiflower @multiangell @quicklystickystarlight @kunhye @nekee-lilac02 @peachyprincessminki @hidden-wildflowers @raysanshine @skzpleasestay @tearvantae

🌸 Unable to tag: @mingiibabiee @dreamie-deonghwa @9songbird19 @retrofuture-ism @aratrikade

🌸

Please do not repost, modify or claim this work as yours.

#ateez #ateez social media au #ateez fake texts #ateez text au #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez scenario #ateez au #ateez sm #ateez social au #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #jung yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho

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duchessfics · 4 years

Text

Business and Pleasure Part 5

(https://alainashuffman.tumblr.com/post/66522632737/sarah-paulson-in-piggy-piggy)

Billie x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): NSFW, D/s Dynamics, Semi-Public Sex, Fingering, Some Language, Praise Kink

Summary: It’s finally the day you and Billie fly to New York City. But you’ve got a full day of work to do beforehand. So inevitably you find yourself once more trying to work out how your relationship interchanges between work and personal. And you get a good time with Billie out of it too.

Word Count: 8805

A/n: Here it is! Part 5! 🙂 I hope ya’ll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Part 4, Business and Pleasure Masterlist

A self-made breeze brushes against your face as you rush through the Buzzfeed filming studio and dodge between different people and objects with Billie’s usual Starbucks iced coffee and McDonald’s sausage biscuit concealed in a Starbucks bag. While you intended to get here earlier, packing for your trip last night took longer than you thought. As a result, you stayed up far too late and when your alarm went off this morning the thought of a couple more minutes of sleep was too compelling. But when you hit snooze you overestimated how fast you could get ready and ended up practically running out the door. Luckily the studio is smaller than yesterday’s and you find Billie within minutes.

The glamorous blonde is perched at a makeshift makeup and hair station and you can tell she sees you because her face lights up in recognition and she gives you a smile before purring, “Good morning, sunshine.”

The warmth of her greeting compels your cheeks to warm up also and you return a small smile, shyly replying, “Good morning. Sorry for getting here so late, but I got your usual.”

Her smile widens as you give her the items and after she looks in the bag to confirm it really is the sausage biscuit, her mouth waters at the sight and she looks to you once again while moaning, “Oh sweetheart, I could kiss you right now. This looks so amazing.”

Your eyes widen and you feel the hairs on the back of your neck rise in awareness as your whole body warms at her choice of words. But you attempt to brush past the comment like anyone else would and lightly clear your throat to conceal the silence before you stutter, “I-I’m glad you like it. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Immediately you close your eyes regretting how you phrased that as ‘anything.’ And sure enough you open them up to see her shit-eating grin as she teases, “Do you really mean anything? Because I can always think of something I need.”

Do not spur her on. Think of a neutral reply. Anything.

Trying to maintain eye contact feels like trying to climb a mountain and any resilience left is used to keep your voice neutral when you slowly reply, “Anything in terms of filming. My employment services only go so far.” Billie’s eyebrows raise in mock surprise at your words, but she keeps that smug look on her face when she murmurs, “Of course I was speaking about filming…but it almost sounded like you have a little crush on me, y/n.”

If there is a time for the ground to open up and swallow you whole it’s now.

Your eyes widen at her forwardness and your whole body burns to the point of breaking into a nervous sweat while you shake your head and stutter, “N-no, Miss Howard. I didn’t—I-I never meant to—”

But she shushes your squeaky, incoherent plea and chuckles as she soothes, “I’m only kidding, darling.” I just wanted to see how you would react.” Fiery adrenaline that somehow simultaneously feels like icy shards shoots through your veins and you must look shocked because even the artist doing Billie’s makeup giggles and tells her, “I think you got her pretty good.”

If you two were alone, you would totally scold her for taunting you like that. But right now, she’s your boss. So you meekly nod and reply, “Oh. Well—um, do you need anything else before filming?” The medium gives you a knowing smile and wink before answering, “Not at the moment. But I appreciate the offer.” So you take her trash from breakfast and throw it out while she finishes with hair and makeup.

For today her manager lined up a gig with Buzzfeed LA where they will film Billie answering questions from twitter about being a medium. And in the process she’ll also promote her own show. After getting Billie placed, the crew makes last minute adjustments, and someone brings over a glass bowl with slips of paper that have questions on them. They set it on a wooden stool that is tall enough for her to draw from while standing, but it doesn’t get in the way of their filming shot. Today the blonde is dressed a little more on the casual side but still looks elegant, wearing glossy black heels, high waisted, freshly pressed black palazzo pants, and a silk, dusty rose button up blouse that is stylishly tucked into her trousers to flatter her hourglass figure. And, to your delight, she also has her notorious string of pearls on with earring studs to match.

Today you’re closer to Billie when she films so she can actually see you. But you stay back to keep out of the crew’s way, and she can stay focused. Once they call out action, the blonde looks to the camera and puts on her perfect smile before speaking in her smooth as honey voice,

“I’m Billie Dean Howard, medium to the stars, and today I will be answering some questions from twitter about what it actually means to be a medium.”

Then they cut and the director looks over the footage. And in that one minute, Billie is able to look away from the camera and flash a small smile just for you. The special attention from her is undeniably flattering and before you are conscious of it, you give her a small smile back before she’s called to attention once more.

At 12:30 pm they decide to break for lunch. When Billie begins to walk in your direction some of the Buzzfeed staff call out and ask her to join them for lunch. At first, she glances at you as if silently asking for permission. The questioning look confuses you since she is your boss, but you give her a reassuring smile and say, “I’ll get you a plate.”

The medium smiles back and murmurs quiet enough for only you to hear, “You’re such a dear to me, sweetheart.” Her soft praise makes your cheeks heat up and you give a small nod of acknowledgement before stepping away from her over to the lunch spread.

After gathering a small selection and making sure there is enough protein and nutrients to sustain your employer for the afternoon, you walk over and set down the plate, silverware, and cup full of water on the table. Everyone else keeps partaking in their lunchtime conversations however Billie pauses to look up at you from her seat and murmurs, “Thank you, y/n.” And once again, she shows you her genuine expression beneath the usually smooth exterior.

The thought that she is willing to even give you a glimpse of that side of her makes your insides flutter and you grin at seeing that special part of her again while replying, “You’re welcome.” But the intimate moment is broken by someone saying Billie’s name to speak with her.

So you back up from the group and grab a small lunch for yourself, sitting off in a side area as you work on your phone, emailing and calling different people to confirm Billie’s schedule in New York City in between bites.

Because they all started eating before you did, you still eat when they resume filming and listen to Billie continue to show her wit and sassiness with each answer. And by the time Buzzfeed wraps for the day, you’ve called Jared to make dinner and made sure housekeeping has her luggage all set up to head out the door.

As you end the phone call, Billie sneaks up behind you and murmurs in your ear, “Let me ride home with you.” You gasp, whipping around to face her. And at the same time, you check to see if anyone else is close enough to hear, but there’s no one around.

So you meet the medium’s gaze and whisper, “I-I don’t know. Maybe we shouldn’t.” She chuckles and leans in before whispering with a wink, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

There is no way you can think rationally while keeping eye contact with her.

Your eyes look down to your well-worn, scuffed up work shoes and your teeth worry your lower lip in thought, drawing Billie’s attention.

“Come on,” Billie playfully pouts, prompting you to lift your eyes enough to take in her glossy lips when she continues, “Live on the edge a little, sweetheart. I’ll make it worth your time.” Her low, husky voice that somehow remains honey-like melts your last shred of resolve and you hesitantly relent, “Ok…you can ride with me.” The medium smiles and when you meet her eyes again, her pupils are dilated in lust.

Without thinking she leans in closer to you almost like she’s going to kiss you. But you can’t go that far in public. Before you can even say anything, a look of recognition crosses her face and she backs away, venturing to look around and fading back into her casual demeanor prior to asking, “Shall we?”

By now your breath is caught in your throat and your eyes are misty in a mixture of shock, arousal, and shame at your conduct. But you avert your gaze and clear your throat to conceal the turbulent thoughts whirling around in your head and rasp, “Yep.” before leading Billie to your car.

The car ride to Billie’s house is relatively quiet, save for the couple words exchanged between the 2 of you and the radio softly playing in the background. But the silence is nice after being in a bustling studio without any real quiet moments in addition to what transpired before you left. As usual you drive with one hand on the wheel while leaning the other arm on the central console and because you’re focused on the road, you miss Billie taking small glances at you, noticing how your fingers tap to the beat of the music.

Today she is the one who desires to hold your hand that seems so close to her own. But unlike you in the car ride home yesterday, she initiates action and smoothly takes your hand, intertwining her warm fingers with yours. While your eyes remain on the road, your body automatically opens to her touch. However, you’re still a little shaken up by the whole—almost kiss in public—situation, so you stay quiet.

Billie notices your silence but assumes it’s from the long day of work. To break the stillness she gives your hand a light squeeze while commenting, “Your hands are freezing, sweetheart. Are you cold?” You smile at her observation, but keep your eyes on the road and reply, “My hands are pretty much always cold. But I’m alright.”

Your employer lets out a hum of understanding, however she silently brings her other hand up to sandwich your cool one between her two warm ones. The heat of her touch does help to melt away some of the insecurity from earlier.

After a couple more minutes of not speaking, Billie softly admits, “I missed sharing lunch with you today, y/n.” Immediately flames of doubt burn at the knots of anxiety in your stomach and you can’t help but ask, “Really?” You even give her a quick side glance to see she looks down at her hands that cradle your one hand.

However you look back to the road and don’t see her face when she lifts her head to look at your profile and honestly answers, “Y/n, I always enjoy spending time together.”

You know you should walk away from this whole thing and make it clear you aren’t just some person to use. But there’s that genuine, heartfelt voice again and you find yourself quietly admitting, “I-I enjoy it too.” Both of you go quiet again, but it’s a more comfortable silence and as she delicately caresses your hand your uncertainty ebbs away once more.

After you pull into her driveway and park your car, you finally look to Billie and she says with a smile, “Thank you, sweetheart.” Your core warms at her words and you softly reply, “You’re welcome.”

Now you squeeze her hand like she did with you earlier. The action prompts the blonde to look at you with an even bigger smile and you smile back at her, glad to be alone. However, you both know you’re short on time. So she brings your now warm hand to her lips and presses a kiss to the top of your knuckles before releasing it.

You reluctantly take your hand back and tell her, “Jared should have dinner ready, but I’ll have him keep it warm while you change into something more comfortable.” Billie nods in understanding before murmuring, “You’re the absolute best, y/n.” Her compliment prevents reality from completely crushing the moment and you find your cheeks feel tight from smiling so wide, but you avert your eyes and try to reply in a demure tone, “Thank you.”

Then the medium surprises you when she brings a hand up to cup your cheek. The intimate touch prompts your eyes to flick up and when you meet hers, her thumb brushes against your cheekbone. “You’re more than welcome, sweetheart.” Billie purrs with a smirk.

You both step out of your car and walk into her grand home. Then she ascends the elaborate staircase to go to her bedroom. You can’t help but watch her hips sway as she goes. She must realize you continue to watch her walk up to the second floor because before she disappears from your sight, she looks back to flash one more smile. After she’s gone you shake your head to clear your thoughts and go to make sure all of her luggage is loaded into the car she’s taking to the airport before placing your own luggage in and going to her chef to tell him she’s ready to eat.

After you’ve spoken with Jared you sit at the breakfast nook and a short time later, Billie meanders in, warmly greeting him. The medium now wears charcoal gray tapered sweatpants, an oversized, mauve-colored sweatshirt, and her black ugg moccasin slippers that always look so cozy and warm. But you can’t justify paying so much for shoes when your paycheck mainly goes to paying for rent. You don’t see her in lounge clothes often, but even in these clothes without any makeup on, Billie manages to maintain a distinct elegance that is both attractive and admirable.

Jared says hello back and dishes up her dinner while explaining what the meal consists of. The blonde carefully listens; however she can’t help but smirk when she notices you looking her over out of the corner of her eye. Once he has the meal on two plates and finishes his description, Billie thanks him before taking both plates and bringing them over to the breakfast nook where you sit to eat the meal. Then her chef begins to wash dishes like last night while you both eat.

Because he no longer looks on, Billie leans closer to you and purrs in your ear, “I noticed you checking me out. Do you like what you see, sweetheart?”

Of course she spotted you checking her out.

Your cheeks flush in embarrassment and you can’t help but duck your head a little as you squeak, “Yes.” Her low chuckle fills your ears and you feel her hand sneak around your waist low enough that it can’t be seen by the cook if he turns around and looks back at you both. Rather than pulling you close to her like last night, she merely uses the contact to maintain her intimate presence while murmuring, “Oh I am going to thoroughly enjoy our little trip to New York City.”

‘Our trip?!’ This isn’t your trip. Yes, you’re going…but it’s to serve Billie.

Her choice of words draws you to your senses and you turn to face her, inches from her lips when you whisper, “You’re gonna have interviews and pr for your tv show—”

But she cuts you off by assuring you, “Oh I’ll find time for you, honey.” Her eyes focus on your lips when she speaks, and you find yourself partly terrified and partly desperate for her to kiss you. However, the loud clanging of dishes in the sink snaps you out of your daze. Immediately you stiffen up and whip your head down to look at your plate.

The blonde is more subtle but makes a similar action. Even though she no longer looks at you, her arm remains around your waist as you both eat on the bench you christened just last night. After finishing your meal, you check to make sure Billie has everything she needs before heading out to the car and riding to the airport.

When you get to Los Angeles International Airport, the driver helps both of you unload your things and you and Billie walk in. Once you check in your suitcases so all you have to carry is your purses, walking around is much easier. Inevitably some paparazzi see Billie and come up to take pictures or ask questions. However a security person keeps them back by escorting you to the VIP lounge and the medium just puts on her sunglasses to dim the flash of the cameras.

The only reason you are even allowed to look into the inside of this lounge is because of Billie. You are all too familiar with the crowded, less than comfortable airport environment with harsh fluorescent lights and suspicious smells. But this exclusive waiting lounge it’s a completely different experience. There’s no one else around at the moment, every single seat is a leather recliner like the ones in fancy movie theaters with corresponding cup holders and charging outlets. Even the lighting is dimmed and orange based rather than blue so it’s less jarring. And all of the food and drinks are complimentary so you can basically order whatever you would like and someone will bring it to you. Basically this lounge takes the stress out of traveling and if you had the money to pay for a membership like Billie does, you would too.

Billie struts in first and a server immediately scurries up while inquiring, “Good evening, Miss Howard. Do you need anything at the moment? Can I interest you in something to eat or drink?” Your employer lets the straps of her purse slide down from the top of her shoulder to the bend of her elbow and removes her sunglasses as she replies, “I’ll take…a coke with lime slices, extra ice, and whatever she wants.”

The addition to her order makes your eyes widen and even the server’s brows furrow at you being acknowledged to order. Meanwhile Billie looks down to her purse while rummaging around for something. So you look to the server and clear your throat, but still sound hoarse when you stutter out, “Um…I-I’ll just take a water please.” The staff member gives you a cursory smile before replying, “I’ll be right back with those.” And they speed off.

Your gaze turns in Billie’s direction when she exclaims, “There it is!” Then she pulls out her lip balm and you watch her apply the deluxe chapstick to her lips. And as she does, she playfully wiggles her eyebrows and teases, “Gotta make sure my lips are still kissable.” Automatically, you scan the room for witnesses, but it is empty. And the medium just chuckles and muses, “Always so shy, y/n.” You look back to see her smirking as her eyes slowly trail over you.

“Here are your drinks. If you need anything else, please tell me.” The unexpected voice of the server behind you causes you to jump out of your skin making Billie grin as she takes both glasses and looks to the staff member before smoothly replying, “We will. Thank you, honey.”

At the moment your stress levels are off the charts. If your heart was beating any faster, it would fly right out of your chest. When the staff member walks away, you let out the shuddering breath you inhaled and the medium says with a smirk, “Shall we?” You’re still too flustered to speak so you simply nod and follow her to some of the more secluded leather seats.

Billie lets you sit first and once you’re seated, she holds out your water while murmuring, “Here you go, sweetheart.” You take the cup with a meek thank you and make yourself drink a generous sip as your heart rate slows and Billie’s eyes feel like embers on your face while she closely observes every move you make.

After the liberal sip, you set your cup down in the holder and look to your employer. She gives you a devious smile and asks with a raised eyebrow, “Comfortable?”

How could you not be? You don’t need to rush off anywhere and you have a gorgeous woman by your side who seems to enjoy your company as much as you do hers.

Her eyes continue to rove over you to the point that it feels like you lay bare before her and you find her cheeks warming as you reply, “Y-yes. Are you?” You see her beautiful smile expand. “Almost,” Billie begins before reaching out to take your hand and intertwine her fingers with yours. Her petite hand gently squeezes yours with her deep inhale and when she exhales, her grip relaxes and she lets her head rest back against the head cushion and sighs, “Perfect.”

The medium’s hand feels so soft and supple from the luxury hand cream she uses religiously and find yourself once again looking down at her neatly trimmed, light pink nails.

There’s no way you’re just a one-night stand deal. Not with how she is acting towards you. Of course you’ve never had sex with an A-list celebrity, but you know the start of a relationship when you see one. This isn’t your first rodeo. Should you pull your hand away from your boss’s? Probably. But are you really going to withdraw from her warm and gentle embrace? Not at the moment.

So you try to mimic Billie’s relaxed position and lean back against the plush seat.

Rather than trying to do anything else, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to just relish in the blonde’s touch. Billie looks over to see your eyes flutter shut similar to when you’re about to orgasm from her touch. The way you so easily relax into her hold warms Billie’s insides in both lust and endearment. But she also understands you have a life beyond serving hers and doesn’t want you to feel held back. So she gratefully takes any affection you offer, but manages her expectations. You’re young. Someday you’ll find someone to settle down with and they’ll be lucky to have you.

Even though your eyes are closed, you sense Billie watching you as her thumb strokes small circles over your knuckles. You give her hand a small squeeze and open one of your eyes to peek at the blonde. The cat-like action makes her chuckle and murmur, “I don’t know how you can look so cute all of the time.” That compliment makes you open both of your eyes and look behind yourself as if checking to see if someone is behind you before looking back to her and coyly replying, “Who? You mean me?” Her eyes narrow at the self-deprecation and she playfully admonishes, “‘Do I mean you?’ Of course I mean you, darling. You’re always cute as a button. And I will continue to remind you of that until you believe it yourself.”

Billie thinks you’re cute as a button.

Her promise of repetition captures your attention and you bite your lip before softly replying, “You always look beautiful too, Billie.” So beautiful. But the moment is interrupted by a couple people walking into the lounge. Shit.

You move to jerk your hand away to your own lap, but Billie gently shushes you and soothes as they order food and drinks, “They won’t notice, sweetheart.” But your anxiety keeps you stiff and worrying your lower lip between your teeth while you watch the strangers. So she leans in closer and murmurs, “Hey.” Her unusually soft voice gets your attention and you look to her warm, chocolate brown eyes.

The concern etched on her features takes you back to the time you were sure she was going to fire you after having sex on her kitchen counter. God that feels like a lifetime ago. You can tell she must sense you’re nervous, however, like before her demeanor remains calm when she soothes, “It’ll be alright, darling. And if they do say something, I’ll take care of it. Ok?” While your instincts tell you to pull back, her genuine expression of concern wins out and you force yourself to relax a little as you nod and respond, “Ok.”

In the end, the people who entered sit in chairs on the other side of the lounge and can’t even see your hands. So there’s nothing to worry about—as usual. Once they’re settled and talking amongst themselves, the medium gives you a wink with a reassuring smile and you let out the breath that was caught in your throat because of the strangers, but also your own issues.

You know that you have problems with trusting others and it’s led to a couple of your past romantic partners walking away in frustration and bewilderment. But Billie doesn’t seem to get upset and that’s a huge relief in itself. So you slowly lean back against the chair as you were. In response Billie gives your hand a small, reassuring squeeze while murmuring, “Good girl, y/n.” And of course, her words of affirmation make you feel much, much better.

Now that you’re both resettled, you fish the book you brought to read while traveling and ask the blonde, “Would it bother you if I read a little bit?” The timid question in your meek, little voice prompts her to chuckle and reply in an amused tone, “It wouldn’t bother me at all, sweetheart.” You give her a smile and thank her in return, but before you can open the book, your phone lights up. So you pick it up and gasp when you see who messaged you. Their message is unexpected since you haven’t talked in months, but always welcome.

In her curiosity at your noise, Billie can’t help but sneak a glance over. However she just as quickly chastises herself for being nosy and picks up her own phone to occupy her wandering eyes. You both don’t speak to each other for the next hour, but the medium doesn’t miss your small laughs or smiles at whatever this mysterious person is sending. And to her own surprise, Billie feels the smallest twinge of jealousy and possessiveness over you and your shared relationship. However you’re not exclusively with her so what can she expect?

Before boarding the plane, you put your book away while asking, “Do you mind keeping an eye on my things while I run to the restroom?” Billie shows off her trademark smile and replies, “It’s no problem, honey.” So you set your purse on your seat with your phone on top so it doesn’t get lost while saying, “Thank you, Billie. I’ll be back in a minute.” Then you make the short trek to the lounge restroom which, like everything else in this exclusive section, is considerably better than the public restrooms everyone else uses.

While you’re in there, Billie hears your phone vibrate and before she can stop herself, the medium sees it’s a message from someone whose contact name is Taylor. And the message itself says, I wish I could go there with you, but we can keep in touch over messaging. I’ll miss you. 💜 The words provoke her flame of jealousy and possession once more.

Did you lie to her about being with someone? You probably didn’t mention this person because you thought your job would be in jeopardy. Maybe she’s just been projecting her own feelings on this fling the whole time.

“Ready?” Your voice calls out, bringing Billie back to reality. Her fingers flick nervously in her desire to bite her nails, but she puts on a confident smile and smoothly replies, “Ready as I’ll ever be.” You grin at her response, but don’t miss the nervous tick of her fingers. Something seems…off. However you don’t have time to ask about it. So you pick up your purse and phone and both of you are escorted by security to get on your plane to New York City.

Of course Billie has a first class seat so you do as well and once again are amazed by the discrepancy between these spacious, luxurious seats compared to economy seating. There is an ample amount of space for you both, but you still elect to be close. And the moment you even mention feeling chilly, an attendant is there with a fresh cozy, microfiber blanket just for you that’s warmed from being stored in a heated cabinet. Billie watches you snuggle under the blanket and secretly slip your shoes off, so you only wear socks and you scoot a little closer to her, longing to get some of her radiating warmth. The subtle movement makes her smirk and purr, “Do you need some attention, sweetheart?”

You could always use some attention from Billie. And judging from that damn smirk on her face she knows it too.

Your eyes lower as you softly admit, “Maybe a little bit.” Then you venture to look up and see her smiling and opening herself up to you even more as she purrs in that intoxicatingly low voice, “Well, you have my full attention, darling.” Your heart flutters at her sweet as honey demeanor, but you can’t help but question, “Are you sure? I was just being dumb—”

However your boss presses one of her fingers to your lips, effectively silencing you, and assures, “Y/n, I don’t mind giving you my full attention. Don’t you give me your full attention most of the time?” Billie pulls her finger back enough for you to answer, “Well…yeah. But—”

“Ah,” Billie says, placing her finger on your lips again before continuing, “No buts. I can assure you that it is my pleasure to give you attention. Ok?” You hesitate for a moment, but nod and softly answer, “O-ok.” The answer seems to be sufficient for the blonde, so she withdraws her finger. Then she pulls back the arm divider so nothing is between you both and you scoot as close to her as you can with your seatbelt on to lean against her side, letting out a sigh as her familiar scent of jasmine and smoke envelops you. To any onlookers you only seem a little closer than usual, but nothing overly affectionate.

About that time, one of the flight attendants comes up and says, “Good evening, Miss Howard and Miss L/n. Can I get either of you anything to eat or drink?” Immediately you go to move away, but by now Billie has her arm wrapped around your waist under the blanket and keeps you close as she casually replies, “I’ll take a red wine and…” Then she trails off and both sets of eyes looks to you. So you squeak the first thing that comes to mind: “Ginger Ale—please.” The attendant gives you both a smile, missing your internal panic, and chirps, “Of course! I’ll be right back with those.” And walks away.

When you’re alone again, you look to Billie and ask, “Do you think she noticed?” The question prompts her to giggle and softly soothe, “No I don’t think she did.” Then she leans close to your ear and presses a small kiss before murmuring, “Let me take care of you, sweetheart. I promise I’ll keep you safe.” Her warm words do help and you can’t help but get upset at yourself for always worrying.

You really are constantly a buzzkill and can never seem to relax. Before long Billie will get tired of you being a worry wart and leave—

The medium saying your name draws you out of your vortex of anxiety-driven thoughts and you look over to see Billie watching you closely with furrowed brows. Her look of concern makes your cheeks warm in shame and you can’t keep eye contact as you mutter, “I’m sorry. It’s not you—it’s me.” Billie notices your faltering gaze and to her it makes no sense why you are always so hard on yourself. So she tries to encourage you by saying, “Y/n, this isn’t anyone’s fault. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

You venture to meet her eyes after her reassurance and it feels like her darkened, intuitive orbs can see straight to your soul as she observes, “You’re pretty hard on yourself aren’t you?”

Finally, someone sees how hard you try to fight off these feelings of anxiety. It’s not that’s you’re unaware.

Your eyes automatically get misty at her recognition of your struggle and you bite your lip, attempting to keep your emotions in check as your nod.

Of course it’s at that moment the flight attendant returns and gives you your requested beverages. Both of you politely thank her, but even she seems to pick up on the current mood and merely says, “We’re just about to take off, but if you need anything once we’re up in the air please don’t hesitate to ask.” Billie gives her trademark smile and replies for you both, “Thank you so much, sweetheart.”

When the attendant is gone, rather than trying to push the conversation further, the medium loosens her hold on you to take the remote synched with your personal tv. Then she hands it over to you and murmurs, “How about you pick out something for us to watch?” You’re thankful for not having divulge all of your emotions in this moment and carefully take the remote to flip through the choices until you find one of your favorite movies.

When you press select, Billie lets out a soft hum and muses, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this before.” Those words make you gasp and you look at her while squeaking, “You haven’t—how have you not seen this? Now we have to watch this so you can see what you’ve been missing.” Your employer chuckles at your shock and horror, but leans closer to you while purring, “Enlighten me, sweetheart. I’m ready.” By then the cabin’s lights are off besides the strips to illuminate the walkway and a couple random personal headlamps on to read or write. But you’re basically shrouded in darkness with only the glow of the tv providing any direct source of light. And after watching the short video on safety, the movie begins.

Once you’re fully up in the air, Billie slides the partial door closed so you have a little more privacy and the moment the seatbelt light turns off, you both unbuckle your respective ones and you curl further into her side. In response the medium wraps both of her arms around your middle to keep you close, only shifting once and awhile to sip her wine. By now you have your legs tucked up underneath you and let yourself melt into her warm and welcoming side. The luscious notes of sweet vanilla with undertones of heat and ash bring you a sense of contentment only she can provide. You haven’t felt this blissed-out since this past Sunday night after she ‘allowed’ you to be the dominant one and held you close afterwards.

After the blonde takes her last sip of wine, instead of going to her previous position, she removes her arms from you, leaving you feeling exposed, and slips her hands out from under the blanket. The movement gets your attention and she holds her hands out in front of you both as she kisses the sensitive skin behind your ear and purrs, “You were right, darling. This pink does look lovely.” The sensation of her hot breath on your neck makes you shiver and slowly twist around to face her.

Once again, your lips nearly meet each other and you close the gap, leaning down to press a small, shy kiss on her lips. When you back up, she smiles and her dark eyes stay on yours as she returns a small kiss before lowly murmuring against your lips, “Oh come on, y/n. I know you can give me more than that.”

You smile and lean in to recapture her lips. While she does love the feeling of your lips on hers, the medium can’t help but notice you slightly tensing up after kissing longer than a couple moments. And she doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. Well…too uncomfortable. Fortunately, a splendid idea comes up in her head that should make you less tense. But she needs to draw out your own desire before making her move.

When Billie pulls back from your lips, your brows furrow.

You know she likes longer kisses than that. And her all too familiar, shit-eating grin is enough to know she’s up to something. With Billie—who knows what’s she has got up her sleeve.

However she makes no move except to sit back in her seat where she was and innocently say, “I apologize for interrupting your movie, darling.” Your eyes narrow as you look her over, but there’s no sign of mischief besides her little smirk. What does she have planned? You skeptically settle back in beside her and she wraps an arm around your waist to keep you close like before.

You continue to watch the movie and Billie doesn’t speak, however her teasing touch underneath the fluffy blanket definitely distracts you. In the beginning her thumb slowly strokes your side however as time goes on you feel her get bolder in her caresses and she ghosts her thumb over the outside of your breast. In fact a couple times she shifts a little closer and you’re sure she’ll brush over your nipple that’s already peaked in arousal. But then she barely skims past it. When you react by squirming and letting out the softest whimper of desire, the medium has the audacity to chuckle against your neck and rile you up even more

By the end credits, Billie has effectively aroused you to the point that you’ve gotten even closer to her and nearly gasp in need. Meanwhile your employer just laughs at your desperation and lowly inquires in your ear, “Have you heard of the mile-high club, sweetheart?” Oh, you know exactly what her plan is now. This is a legitimate thing? You’re about to find out. You look to her face with wide eyes of both fear and anticipation and whisper, “Y-yes.” Of course, that just eggs Billie on and she purrs with a smirk, “As a member myself it is my pleasure to induct you into this exclusive group.”

Your lust-filled eyes focus on Billie’s darkened one’s and she has a wicked grin as she taunts with raised brows, “You mean you’re not going to tell me this is wrong or that it’s too risky?”

At this point Billie has worn your resistance down to the point that if she slammed you back against the wall and fucked you, you wouldn’t say no—consequences be damned.

However the comment does bring you back to a sliver of reality and you hesitantly reply, “Y-you won’t get us in trouble…right?”

Your soft, timid question fuels Billie’s fire and she watches you with hooded eyes as she answers in an overly innocent voice, “That’s entirely up to you, sweetheart. The louder you get, the more likely it is that someone will come over here to check on you.” Automatically, you listen to see how loud the plane is, and the only constant noise is the low hum of the engine with variable sounds from the TV and a few conversations around you. But there really isn’t that much to conceal your noises.

But surely Billie wouldn’t try this if she didn’t think it was possible—right? You can do this. And even if you can’t—your desire is strong enough to cloud your judgement.

So you give her a firm nod and say, “Ok.”

By now another movie is starting so she leans in and purrs, “How about we watch another movie, hmm?” Whatever the movie is, it’ll provide more sound coverage and you’ll take all you can get. Rather than voicing your agreement, you go back to sitting like you were and relax into the medium’s soft and warm embrace. Meanwhile, she leans in close to your ear and kisses the sensitive flesh right behind it. And as she does you feel one of her hands under the blanket move from around your waist to the front of you. Then she cups your clothed mound in a possessive manner with her hand, making you gasp and watch her hand move under the blanket. However, your attention returns to her words as she purrs, “Keep watching the movie, darling. We don’t want you to look suspicious, do we?”

Her low, commanding voice leaves your mouth feeling dry and you know that even just all of this toying around has your core dripping in arousal. But you pull yourself together enough to rasp, “No.” And there’s that low, seductive chuckle which has an angelic ring to it again. You listen to her instructions and slowly look back to the tv, but your whole body remains focused on the distinct feeling of Billie’s fingers undoing your pants while her lips lazily tease your earlobe. And when she slips her hand into your pants and under the waistband of your panties, your legs slightly spread of their own accord.

Then you feel her slender digits slide down to dip into your core. The soft touch makes you whimper, “Billie—”

But she softly shushes you before purring in your ear, “Oh, honey, you like all of this a lot more than you let on.” That’s when you feel how truly soaked your pussy is. There’s no way you can just ‘watch the movie.’ So, rather than looking to your lap where Billie’s fingers lazily spread your arousal, you turn to look at Billie’s face. She backs up a little to make eye contact and softly jests, “I’m starting to think you want to get caught.” Then her fingers find your already sensitive clit and you bite your lip to stifle your whimper.

If there is anything you don’t want to happen, it’s getting caught.

So when she starts to rub vicious circles on your pearl, your thighs clench up and you take short breaths to prevent yourself from moaning. And without intentionally planning it, your one hand reaches out under the blanket and clenches the top of Billie’s thigh to keep rooted.

Fortunately Billie’s fingers leave your clit and allow you to take a deep breath. But she’s not done with you yet. “Is that what you want, hm? You want the flight attendant to come over here and see how desperate you are to be fucked, sweetheart?” The medium whispers and eases a finger into your tight hole. You instinctively clench up at the intrusion, but she’s there for you, brushing the pad of her thumb against your neglected clit.

“Y/n…I asked you a question and expect an answer.” She murmurs in a soft, sing-song voice as her finger begins to slowly pump in and out of you. Your lip feels sore from biting on it so hard to keep quiet. But you release your lip from your teeth and whimper, “No.”

Billie leans a little closer and places a kiss on your nose while inserting another finger into you. “No?” She mockingly whispers as her digits fill you oh so perfectly. Your back arches as much as you can in the limited space and you lowly moan, “No.” The blonde chuckles at your state of being and you whimper her name, pleading for her to start going again without spelling it out. But she shushes you with a brief kiss and her free hand comes up to cup your cheek before she soothes, “I’ve got you, darling. I’ll take care of you.”

You look into Billie’s warm, chocolate colored eyes and the moment her fingers within you begin to speed up again, you gnaw on your tender lower lip to keep your sounds contained. However you capture the medium’s thigh in a steel grip and your teeth can’t completely silence your high-pitched noise of pleasure when she strokes that sensitive spot within your depths. The TV conceals some of your groan, but your noise is distinct enough to hear over it and you see the silhouette of the flight attendant right outside of your frosted glass door.

Shit, shit, shit.

Your whole body stiffens up as she passes by. Meanwhile Billie continues to fuck you with her fingers and makes a soft shushing sound right beside your ear. Fortunately the attendant doesn’t stop walking and you bury your face in the bend of your employer’s neck to muffle your moans as she continues to stroke that sensitive spot.

Billie grins at your state and tuts her tongue before reprimanding, “Don’t think you can get loud now. You just about got caught already.” But her words don’t register with you and you keep one hand on her thigh and bring the other up to cling at her shirt while whimpering, “I’m about to cum.” no longer caring to ask permission. The blonde notices and purrs, “Oh really?” You merely nod in response and feel your whole body warm as those intense pre-orgasm twitches flow through your body.

However her hand slows and Billie asks, “Aren’t you forgetting something, darling?” You nearly sob at the torture of being edged in this circumstance. But you settle for whispering in a voice thick with emotion, “Please let me cum. Please, I need it, Billie. Please.” By now you are just about in her lap and cling to her for dear life. The medium begins to speed up her movements once more and she whispers in your ear, “Go ahead and cum for me, sweetheart.”

You don’t know if it’s the public setting, the teasing beforehand, or the way Billie strokes your sweet spot, but you end up experiencing one of the strongest orgasms you have ever had. Thank god you are biting down on her shoulder to stay quiet and she holds you close with her available arm so that any sounds that escape are muffled.

Thankfully she doesn’t push you to another orgasm and lets you settle back down from your high as she takes her hand away from you to lick off all of your essence on her fingers. Once your breathing regulates, you realize that you still keep a vice grip on the blonde’s leg and sweatshirt. So you release your hold and briefly smooth her clothing out while clearing your throat. Then you resettle back into your own seat and let your head fall back against the head rest as you close your eyes and take a deep breath.

Holy shit you can’t believe that just happened.

That’s when Billie’s giggle fills your ears and she teases, “Congratulations. You, my dear, are now an official member of the mile-high club.” On one hand this all almost feels like a cosmic joke that the universe is playing on you after wanting Billie so long. But on the other if this isn’t reality and is some vivid dream you are not complaining at all. You can’t help but let out a breathless laugh at the absurdity of it all before replying, “How exciting.”

At this point you finally open your eyes to look at the blonde. Her mauve sweater still looks a little scrunched up from your hold. But besides that she radiates an aura of effortless perfection. You don’t know how she does it, but any time day or night you swear Billie has her hair perfectly set and her face even without any makeup looks glowing with a perfect sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks. You can only dream to look that good.

As you stare, the medium’s luscious lips form into a smirk and she leans towards you. Her hand comes up to give your cheek a small pinch as she teases, “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” It’s only then that you realize how long you’ve been gawking at her.

Pull yourself together.

You automatically look down and shake your head as you mutter, “Sorry.” However, Billie takes your chin between her thumb and pointer finger and guides you to look at her face. That’s when you see the blonde’s reassuring smile. “Hey, who said I didn’t want that? Sweetheart I am made for the cameras.” She soothes with a wink. You let out your higher-pitched, schoolgirl-esque giggle at her confidence and for the first time you aren’t embarrassed or ashamed by the noise.

For a moment you share eye contact and watch Billie’s eyes shift from her charismatic, fiery warmth to a softer brown that reminds you of the molasses cookies your mother makes for Christmas each year. Then she leans in and gives you a light kiss before whispering against your lips, “Without you being so close I’m getting a little chilly. Do you think you could help me out, sweetheart?” And to add onto her smooth as honey voice, the medium tilts her head so she looks up to you through her long lashes.

Billie Dean Howard is going to be the death of you. But hey—at least you’ll die happy.

You return a small, shy smile and scoot closer to her while answering, “I’ll try to help.” The blonde chuckles at your response and wraps both of her arms around you. When you’re snuggled back into her side the same way you were cuddled before while watching the movie, you partially nuzzle into Billie’s silky locks and she lets out a hum of pleasure and amusement before murmuring, “Oh sweetheart, you’re helping so much already.” The vibration of her voice helps to warm your entire body and you’re grateful you have another hour on the plane as you softly reply, “Good.”

By the time you walk up to the check in desk at your hotel, it’s just past 2 in the morning. Luckily since you’re used to Pacific Standard Time it only feels like 11:00pm. However, you have to wake up at 6:30 this morning which will feel like 3:30 in the morning to you.

3:30. You are going to need more than 2 cups of coffee to keep you going.

The luxurious, 5-star hotel lobby is empty except for a couple of staff members so checking in is a breeze. Then the hotel concierge hands Billie her room key before giving you one to your room and they ask with a pleasant smile, “Would you like any help bringing your luggage up to your room?” On your part, you only have one rolling suitcase as well as a small purse. Billie has a large suitcase and purse, so you look to her for direction.

She looks to them and gives her trademark smile as she murmurs, “I think we’re good. Thank you, sweetheart.” So they wish you a goodnight and you make the short walk to the elevators.

Once you’re inside one and ascending to the 27th floor, Billie asks, “Can I see your room key for a second?” Without thinking you reply, “Sure.” And hand it over. However you quickly recognize your error when she tosses it into her bag and says, “We won’t be needing that.” Your eyes widen at her action and for a moment you are stunned into silence. However you make yourself speak up and stutter, “Wait, Billie, that’s—that’s the key for my room.”

The medium chuckles at your words and teases, “Would it really be that bad to stay with me? I mean—I can look for it in my bag…or we can just share my room?”

That little minx! She isn’t wrong though. Sleeping with Billie for a couple nights? That is a dream come true.

So you let out a sigh and tiredly relent, “We—we can share your room.” She gets her Cheshire cat grin and as the elevator door opens, she purrs, “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” You let her step out first and as she leads the way you can’t help but wonder what your boss has in store for you for the next couple days.

Tagged: @marilynroselleprentiss, @saviorinsilk, @chokemepaulson, @versonstar, @find-me-a-constellation, @cordwliagoode, @psychobitchtess, @midnight-lestrange, @mysweetdelia, @venablesbitch, @peachesandlesbians, @nerdaroo, @cordeliafoxxe, @leskaksel, @lovelymspaulson, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @whatabluddymess, @natasha-danvers, @saucy-sapphic, @marvelfansince08love, @wilheminawinters, @dontsblameme, @mssallymckenna

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Part 6

#Business And Pleasure #AHS #ahs imagine #ahs fic #ahs fanfic #ahs billie dean howard #billie dean howard #billie x reader #billie dean howard imagine #billie dean howard x reader #ahs sarah paulson #sarah paulson #ahs sarah paulson’s characters #ahs murder house #AHS Murderhouse #ahs hotel #ahs apocalypse

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Daily Devotionals for March 30, 2023

Proverbs: God's Wisdom for Daily Living

Devotional Scripture:

Proverbs 12:28(KJV): 28 In the way of righteousness is life, and in the pathway thereof there is no death. Proverbs 13:1(KJV): 28 A wise son heareth his father's instruction: but a scorner heareth not rebuke.

Thought for the Day

Verse 28 - Righteousness, as we saw on Day 12, is found only in Christ. To follow Christ is to walk in the way of life. This refers not only to physical life but also to the principles of life; the thoughts, words, and deeds that line up with God's ways. Those who do not line up with His ways lead to death. The fall of man in the Garden of Eden put the death principle into effect for all people. Sickness is one of the results of the fall, an example of the death principle in action. Another example is depression. Interestingly, many English words associated with the death principle begin with the letter "D," such as discouragement, disease, disappointment, disillusionment, despondency, doubt, and despair, not to mention the one behind the "deadly D's" - the devil himself.

We need to be careful to think and do what will activate the life principle. For instance, when we praise God, depression is driven away; when we pray in faith, discouragement lifts; when we stand on healing scriptures, sickness leaves; when we sing and worship God, joy fills our hearts. Jesus promised us abundant life (John 10:10). If we are not experiencing it, we need to commit ourselves totally to God and ask Him to fill us with the Holy Spirit so that we can walk in the Spirit and receive all that He has for us.

Verse 1 - One of the Ten Commandments states that if we want a long and happy life, we must honor our parents (Deuteronomy 5:16). If we are wise, we will not only obey the instruction of our earthly fathers but also our spiritual fathers. Keeping God's Word in our hearts produces blessings of health and long life. What is in our hearts will surface and come out of our mouths. From computer terminology, we have the acronym GIGO: garbage in, garbage out. If we put "garbage" in our spirits, garbage will come out; especially when we are under pressure.

Rebellion toward authorities reveals a heart problem. A rebellious son's refusal to accept his father's correction is his downfall. Those who refuse things that bring life are left to reap the destruction they sow in their lives. The Lord desires to bless all His children, but we cannot be blessed if we insist upon our way. If we refuse to obey God, we will eventually find ourselves in a distressing place. For sinners without Christ, that place will be hell. For rebellious Christians, that place will be a type of hell now. There are many agonies in the hells created by disobedience; the deepest being the loss of fellowship with God. The only safe place in this world for any of us is the center of God's will. Let us choose to walk on the path of life, not death.

Prayer Devotional for the Day

Dear heavenly Father, thank you, as always, for Your abundant blessings. We may never know until we reach heaven how many times You have had Your angels protect us from the wicked one. We do appreciate You watching over us and our loved ones. Lord, we pray together this day for all of the backsliders. Lord, draw them back to Yourself. Forgive them and be merciful to them. Thank You, that Your mercy endureth forever. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one. Lord, thank you for correcting us when we have missed You in some way. We do want to stay on the path of life. Keep Your children on the path of holiness and righteousness. I ask this in the name of Jesus. Amen. From: Elder Steven P. Miller @ParkermillerQ, Founder of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Groups Jacksonville, Florida., Duval County, USA. Instagram: steven_parker_miller_1956, Twitter: @GatekeeperWatchman1, @ParkermillerQ, https://twitter.com/StevenPMiller6 Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gatekeeperwatchman URL: linkedin.com/in/steven-miller-b1ab21259 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ElderStevenMiller

#GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO, #Ephraim1, #IAM, #Sparkermiller,#Eldermiller1981

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spicyspencerreid · 4 years

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Just Friends| Part Three

Timothée Chalamet Imagine: Part One Part Two Part Four Part Five

Female!Reader, Dancer/Actress!Reader, CoStar!Reader, FrenchSpeaking!Reader//4713 Words

Summary of parts one and two// Reader and Timothée are best friends. They are going to be costars on a new movie where Y/n plays a dancer and has a small, but still important, role, and Timothée’s a lead. There’s a storm and Y/n’s hotel is having issues, so she has to stay in Timothée’s apartment. Timothée and Y/n are super close, share some cute special moments, but not as anything more than friends.

Warnings// Grammar/spelling and lack of proofreading, not gonna lie, this ends kinda angsty, just pain. P A I N. um, self-deprecating thoughts if you really squint, I’m sure sure much else, cute banter with Timmy, Zendaya and Ansel being epic friends

Key: French writing (english translation), Y/n/n-Your nickname, Y/f/n-Your first name, Y/l/n-Your last name

(Added July 2020) Note: this whole series was written before Ansel Elgort’s allegations arose, and honestly, in the most disrespectful way possible: I hope he rots in hell. I ALWAYS stand with the victim, and if that’s going to be a problem, find another series to read. If the mention of his name is triggering to you, PLEASE do not read. If you or anyone you know has been sexually assaulted or abused, do not be afraid to speak up, but if that’s not the route you personally want to take: you can call 1-800-656-4673, available 24 hours every day and 100% confidential.

Not my gif: enjoy :))))

It was your last week in the most romantic city in the world, you’d had a couple of interviews, photoshoots, autograph signing events, and you were worn out to be honest, but luckily, you’d have had Timothée on your side the entire time. It was early in the morning, you were sitting on the couch, swirling around a glass of water when your phone rang and you picked it up.

“Remember that French talk show Timothée was on last year?”

“Hello to you too Kelsey...,” you could practically feel her glaring at you through the phone, “the one he went on when he was promoting Call Me By Your Name?”

“Yes and Beautiful Boy, that one, it’s called Quotidien.” you snickered and choked on your water at her pronunciation.

“Quotidien, it means daily, Kelsey.”

“Whatever, anyway they want to do an interview with you and Timothée, and then some kind of photoshoot, I’m not sure, I’ll send you the information once I get it.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

“Have you talked to Kelly today?”

“Yeah, like twenty minutes ago.”

“She told me Julia was on set the other day, and she said Leighton was raving about you...” Julia was working in production on the movie, she was a good friend of Kelly, Kelly was considered your “assistant”, but since you think having an assistant is completely pointless, you just think of her as someone to talk to before interviews who also knows where you need to be at all times. As for Leighton, she was your choreographer. Someone you’ve heard of since you were a kid, an icon in the dance industry. You had only dreamed of working with her up until you got this role.

“No way, you better not be fucking with me right now.”

“Yes, way. She said and I quote, ‘Y/n? She’s the least of my worries, the easiest to work with...’”

“NO WAY. Kelly didn’t say any of that.”

“I’m serious, this is great, she thinks your great. This is good for roles in the future...you can probably count on her recommendation...” that was Kelsey all right, always thinking about the next thing. To be honest, the future had been the last thing you were thinking about.

“Alright, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” You looked into Timothée’s room, his door open. You’d think you might’ve gotten used to early-morning Timothée by now. It’d been five weeks, and still it made your heart flutter to see him so early in the morning, his voice groggy, and his hair just a little messy. As if you and Timothée hadn’t already been close enough, the past five weeks had brought you even closer. Every night you switched off, he’d pick a movie, then you’d pick a movie. You’d have little midnight dance parties, where he’d commend you on your, as he put it, “exquisite music taste” and you’d attack him for having never really listened to Harry Styles. You almost killed him when he said his favorite song was Sign Of The Times. You thought back to the night before your first day on set.

It was almost midnight and you were starting to loose feeling in your left toe. Your skintight white tank top was holding onto your skin for dear life. You were barely sweating, you knew this turn sequence like the back of your hand, but you couldn’t sleep until you knew it was the best it could be. You’d moved the coffee table in the living room area of the apartment so you had enough space to practice, and you’d been repeating and repeating for hours.

“Can’t sleep?” Timothée had been standing in the doorway of his room, once again, you wondered how long he’d been standing there.

“I’m so sorry, did I wake you up?” you moved the coffee table back to the center of the room, right across from the couch and made your way over to him.

“It’s alright I couldn’t sleep anyway, wanted a glass of water,” you walked over to the kitchen counter and he poured you a glass as well, “You know, you really need to get some sleep.” He sat down next to you, rubbing your shoulder trying to comfort you.

“I’m just really nervous.” you took another sip of your water, trying to ignore the feeling of his hand on your exposed shoulder.

“You’ve been practicing on and off all day, you’ll be fine, you’ll be great actually. I’ve seen you do those turn things so many times I practically have them memorized,” he playfully shoved you before leaving his chair and sitting his glass in the sink, “Get some sleep, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight T,” you watched him walk back into his room.

“Goodnight Y/n/n,”

You walked into Timothée’s room and laid down on the bed next to him, lightly shaking him until he woke up.

“So, they want us to do a French Interview...”

“Damn Y/n. No good morning Timothée, sorry to have awaken you...” he grabbed a pillow and covered his head, you snaked your way under the blankets to nestle yourself in his arms.

“Good morning Timothée.”

“Good morning Y/n.” He pulled his head out from under the pillow to look you in the eyes.

“We should eat.”

“Y/n, I cannot believe it’s been five weeks and yet you still won’t open the fridge yourself...”

“It’s not my apartment T,” you sat up and walked to the kitchen.

“You’re so fucking polite it kills me,” he groaned and got out of bed. He opened the fridge and grabbed some fruit, just like the first night.

“The talk show, It’s the one you did those two times, for Call Me By Your Name and Beautiful Boy...”

“I remember, that’ll be fun. The host is really funny.”

“Like you funny...or?”

“Oh. Okay. I see how it is Miss Y/l/n” he picked up a blueberry and threw it your face.

“You don’t wanna start this with me, Timothée,” another blueberry hit your face.

“Oh, I think I do...” you picked up a raspberry and threw it at his nose. It was a good thing a whole food fight didn’t break when Timothée’s phone rang.

“It’s Celine,” he mouthed to you as he walked into his phone to continue to talk to his publicist.

You wanted to slap yourself every time he looked at you. How is he real? How is someone so smart, so kind, so caring, and yet still so attractive. How is someone simply just perfect.

The next day, Timothée and you took a cab to the interview venue. You got your outfit picked out, a cute little dress, and your hair done. You were freaking out, to be honest. You were nervous more than usual interviews, hopping you didn’t screw up your French. You were makeup for the interview, that you were already losing your shit over. It was your last one before you had to head back to the city, where you were set to be working with another choreographer of your dreams, training for another show, the dance world never sleeps.

“Holy fuck, I’m really nervous.” You looked up at Kelly.

“Y/n it’s French television, calm yourself.” Kelly knew better than to actually try to calm you down after working with you for so long. Your makeup artist giggled and steadied your chin as she continued to wipe away the powder still on your face.

“Doesn’t change the number of people that are gonna see it...,” Timothée opened the door to your trailer and sat in a chair next to you.

“Êtes-vous prêt à aller?” (Are you ready to go?)

“No.” You glared at him.

“Come onnn. You’ll be fine. Votre maquillage est superbe.” (Your makeup looks great.)

“Merci,” (thank you) you turned to your makeup artist who had just finished up final touches, “he said my makeup looks great.” She gave him a quick thank you and you thanked her as well. Kelly came in and told you they needed you both stage left to get ready to go on.

When they called your names Timothée escorted you with one hand on your lower back as you made your way to your seats. You knew twitter was gonna loose it’s shit over that later. The host shook both of your hands and introduced you both to the crowd.

“Aujourd’hui, nous avons l’acteur Timothée Chalamet,” (Today, we have actor Timothée Chalamet,) he paused for applause from the audience, “et, nous avons la danse et l'actrice, Y/f/n Y/l/n,” (and, we have dancer and actress Y/f/n Y/l/n,) he held for applause once again, “Maintenant, Timothée, ce n'est pas ta première fois dans l'émission,” (Now, Timothée, this is not your first time on the show,) he smiled shook his head in agreement with the host. A picture of the movie cover for Beautiful Boy came onto the screen.

“Oui, j'étais là pour Beautiful Boy,” he smiled when he saw the picture. (Yes, I was last here for Beautiful Boy)

“Je m'en souviens parce que tu étais tellement inquiet pour ton français,” (I remember because you were so worried about your French) you laughed along with the audience.

“Alors, comment ça se passe depuis, rattrape moi?” (So, how’s it going since then, catch me up?)

“Je travaille sur quelques autres projets depuis lors. Nous sommes en fait, Y/n et moi, ici en train de filmer un autre film, je ne peux pas encore en révéler trop, mais ça avance bien,” (I've been working on a few other projects since then. We are, Y/n and I, actually here filming another movie, I can't reveal too much yet, but things are going well.) The interviewer then turned to you and smiled.

“Eh bien, Mademoiselle Y/n, bonjour. Comment avez-vous été?” (Well, Miss Y/n, Hello. How have you been?)

“J'ai été bon, merci, je suis très excité d'être ici.” (I’ve been good, thank you, I’m very excited to be here.)

“Oui, c'est votre première fois dans l'émission, nous sommes très heureux de vous avoir. Et vous parlez aussi couramment le français, n'est-ce pas?” (Yes, it’s your first time on the show, we are very happy to have you. And you also speak French fluently, is that correct?) Timothée turned to watch you as you spoke.

“Oui, je veux dire que Timothée a un meilleur français que moi, euh ... mais j'ai étudié tout au long de l'école, j'ai fait quelques années à l'étranger au collège, et ma grand-mère parlait couramment. Mais nous ne parlions pas vraiment français dans la maison, so c'est ne pas parfait,” (Yes, I mean Timothée’s French is better than mine, um...but I studied throughout school, I did a few years abroad in college, and my grandmother was fluent. But we didn't really speak French around the house, so it's not perfect,) you looked up to the audience.

“Cela me semble plutôt bien,” (It sounds pretty good to me,) you smiled and let out a quiet thank you as the host complemented you, “Pourriez-vous nous en dire un peu plus sur le film?” (Could you tell us a little bit about the movie?)

“Oui, donc je ne peux vraiment pas dire grand-chose,” (Yes, so I really can’t say much,) you looked to Timothée, scared to reveal much, but he just nodded, a little sign of approval telling you to go on, “C’est donc un problème psychologique...(So, it’s a psychological...),” you looked at Timothée for a second, “Je ne sais pas 'thriller'...y a-t-il un mot pour ça?” (I don’t know how to say ‘thriller’...is there a word for it?)

“C'est juste comme l'anglais.” (It’s the same as in english.) the host nodded at you and smiled, urging you to consider.

“D’accord, desole, c'est un thriller psychologique, un peu comme le film Black Swan, je joue un danseur...” (Okay, sorry, it’s a psychological thriller, a little like the movie Black Swan, I play a dancer...)

“Et je suis soumis à des règles strictes qui me permettent de ne rien dire concernant mon personnage...” (And I am under strict rules that allow me to say absolutely nothing about my character...) the audience laughed as Timothée spoke.

“Vous deux jouez des intérêts amoureux, est-ce exact?” (You two are playing love interests, is that correct?) The host cut you off.

“Non, nous ne jouons pas d'amour, pourquoi tout le monde nous le demande?” (No, we aren’t playing love interests, why is everyone asking us that?) Timothée leaned up as he spoke, asking the host as he laughed a little. He was right, we’d have gotten that question about a million times since the public was informed we were gonna be in a movie together.

“J'aurais pu jurer, mais vous sortez tous les deux...non?” (I could’ve sworn, but you two are dating right.) you tensed up a little bit, but knew better than to show any sort of emotion.

“Non, non, non. Juste amis,” (No, no, no. Just friends.) you both hesitated then answered rather quick, speaking in sync, making the crowd laugh.

“En aucune façon, mais vous avez une si bonne chimie.”(No way, but you have such good chemistry.) The host motioned to you two and then for the crowd, in a little “am I right?” moment, and the crowd applauded. Timothée looked at you and smiled as you two laughed.

“Je suis serieux, Timothée est mon meilleur ami.” (I’m serious, Timothée’s my best friend.) you giggled, your heart dropping just a little bit every time you answered a question like this, but you made the subconscious choice to ignore the feeling.

“Nous sommes les meilleurs amis, c'est tout.” (We’re best friends, that’s it.) Timothée said as he put an arm around you and playfully squeezed your shoulder.

“Eh bien, y a-t-il d'autres intérêts amoureux dans votre vie, Y/n?” (Well, are there any other love interests in your life, Y/n?) the host turned to you. “Haha non, pas pour le moment,” (Haha no, not at the moment,) you smiled to the audience.

“Et toi, Timothée?” (And you, Timothée?)

“Um...non, pas pour le moment.” (Um...no, not at the moment.) A hesitation, a little, tiny, hesitation. One that could just be summed up by a slow translation, but you knew Timothée heard the question loud and clear. One that no one else would notice, but one that stuck in your brain.

You practically begged Timothée to just let you take a taxi to the airport, but he insisted on driving you and walking you to your gate, you drove him to the airport when he had to be in Paris a couple weeks earlier than you. You two were inseparable, that was the thing, you, Ansel, Timothée and Zendaya would spend almost every weekend together, and you were all equally close. However, you couldn’t deny the fact that you and him had a special friendship, not like the friendship you had with Z or Ansel. You guys were ride or die, you could probably go a year without talking and just pick up where you left off, not that you couldn’t say the same about you and Timothée, you could also go long amounts of time without seeing each other. Z was your all time best friend, your shoulder to cry on, you partner in crime, the person who’d make you feel comfortable in photoshoots. Ansel was Ansel. He was funny, he was comfortable, you guys had a bet that if you weren’t married in 40 years you’d move to a country where they allow you to have more than one wife and Ansel would marry both of you. While Z was your shoulder to cry on, Ansel was the one who’d cheer you up, and you were the same for each other. Ansel, Z, and you fed off of each other’s energy, and with Timothée, it was similar, but a little different. It probably had all to do with your love languages, you were both touch, meaning your way of showing love and appreciation was little lingering touches, and hugs, and holding each other. You’d have to explain yourselves on social media all the time, and you did. Constantly being asked about pictures Z or Ansel would take of you two asleep together on the couch, or him having his arm around your waist at parties, he’d play with your hair when you’d fall asleep on his lap sometimes, and fans would go crazy, like the teasing from Zendaya and Ansel wasn’t enough. He put it best in an Ellen interview.

She asked about you. Of course she did, the rumors were intense, all of the fans constantly shipping you two together, but the way he answered had always been perfect to you, “You know Ellen,” he looked up to Ellen and then to the audience, “My relationship with Y/n is so important to me, it’s a beautiful thing, really, platonic intimacy, the ability to just be with someone, and hold someone, with no romance necessary. We’re so close, we tell each other everything, we get comments on how inseparable we are, how must be dating. But the question I’ll ask is, why? Why aren’t more friendships like this? Despite anyone’s sexuality, orientation, religion, or race, despite any of it, why can’t we normalize this kind of friendship, because genuinely, it’s one of the best things in the world. And also, on a slightly separate note, the misogyny involved in dating rumors like these, it makes me feel ill. And I’m not talking about Y/n and I, I can completely understand why people assume we’re dating, we’re ridiculously close, we spend a lot of time together, and we both very touchy people, so...yeah,” he smiled, knowing Ansel and Zendaya were watching this, cracking up in their living rooms, “but, seriously, I’ve had members of my team questioned if they’re involved romantically with me. I go out to dinner with my sister, and there’s at least one article in the morning about my new, as they put it, “lover”. Why is it so hard of a concept to understand that I have many, many smart, capable, actually more than capable, extremely intelligent, young women as part of my team, that I respect so highly. Why is it the first assumption that these women are involved with me. I know people love it, I know, people are obsessed with love, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But really, something has to be done about this underlying misogyny in every single comment on my instagram posts, something has to be done, and the first step is to stop the generalizations, and to stop the assumptions, because these hard working women who work in my team, should never have to face anything like this. Y/n included too, not that she works for me, but it’s horrendous that no matter how hard she works, no matter how talented she is, and she is, she’s exceptionally talented,” he motioned to the audience, “ you’ve all seen how talented of a dancer and actress she is, yet, when someone google searches her name, a picture of her playing Aurora in one of the most decorated productions in the world, one people fly across countries to see, but you know what will come up? Me. You might have to scroll just a little bit, but a picture of me is going to come up in the mix, and it can’t be said vise versa.”

You gave him the biggest hug in the world after that interview, thanking him for being the intelligent man he was, and you guys continued to be as close as ever. Even though the four of you would hang out over the weekends, you and Timothée would also hang out during the week. You’d walk to breakfast together sometimes, your apartments in the city being really close to each others. You’d have movie nights, game nights, baking nights, nights where you’d just stay up late talking. Some nights he’d just show up at your apartment with flour and butter, even though he knew your fridge was fully stocked, and claim it was the perfect temperature outside for baking or some other random shit to give him a reason to bake with you. So having to send him off, those couple of weeks ago, wasn’t your favorite thing in the world, and he could say the exact same about you right now.

He walked you to your gate and gave you a huge hug. He wrapped his arms around you, fingers running through your hair and you nestled you head in his neck. “I’ll miss you,” you muttered into his neck.

“I’ll miss you too, call me when you land, okay?” you nodded, hugging him for just a little longer until they called your flight. You both said goodbye, he wished you a safe flight, and you were on you way. Z picked you up from the airport, and you gushed about your trip, she tried to ask you how it was staying with Timothée, but you just glared at her and switched the topic.

It had been a week, which meant Timothée was coming back in a week, you’d face-timed, stayed up late talking on the phone, and while it wasn’t the same, you still had your weekends with Ansel and Zendaya to look forward to every week. Not to mention you were training for an audition for another production like Sleeping Beauty. You’d just finish dance rehearsal with your personal trainer, and you were about to shower then get ready for dinner with Ansel and Z when your phone rang, it was Timothée. It was a little past 5:00, so you were confused, meaning it was 2:00 in the morning in Paris, you picked up.

“What’s up T, you alright?”

“Yeah...why wouldn’t I be.” You could practically feel him smirking against his phone screen.

“Well, it’s 2 in Paris, you should be sleeping.” you heard him laugh agaist the phone, you missed his smile, it’d been a fucking week, and all you could think about was how much you missed his smile. There was silence for a little bit, you could sense something was off, “What’s going on T?” “...there’s a girl,” your heart stopped, you knew it, you knew it when he hesitated in that interview, you knew. You thought about it for a split second, a girl, another girl, another you, but that’s the thing, you were you, his best friend, you weren’t you, his girlfriend. You were his best friend, you did everything you could in your two seconds to find the light in this. If he had a girlfriend, you could finally suppress this stupid crush once and for all.

“T...that’s, wow, that’s great....name! I want a name! What’s her name? Do I know her?” you wish you weren’t but you were, genuinely happy for him, if anyone deserved to be happy, it was him.

“I don’t think you do. Um...Lily, Lily Rose-Depp.”

“Timothée, of course I know who that is, she’s extremely talented, you were in The King together? We watched it together, of course I know her.”

“She’s great, really, really great. I want you to meet her.”

“Yeah...meeting her...,” you felt your eyes start to water, “go on, tell me everything. I want ever detail.” so he did. He told you about how he ran into her a couple days before before the interview, and found out she was here for a photoshoot. Then he ran into her again a couple days ago and found out that she was coming to NYC the day he was, and that he really, really, wanted you all to meet her. You said goodbye a little later, after talking about everything, you told him how happy you were for him, no matter how bad you just wanted to cry.

A couple days later you were walking home from the little cafe you ate breakfast in when you passed a magazine stand. You did a whole double take, then picked up the magazine. Lily and Timothée, her tongue deep down his throat. You didn’t know whether to throw up or cry. You turned in the opposite direction of your house and started walking. You walked until you approached Z’s apartment building, she buzzed you in almost instantly.

“Y/n what the hell are you doing here, aren’t we going out in an hour?” the tears started to stream down your face as you held up the magazine.

“I shoplifted...” you managed to get out through little sobs.

“Come here girlie,” she pulled you into you apartments and sat on the couch, you laid down with your head in her lap, crying into her legs. She stroked your head as you cried, shocked at what was happening. To be honest, this was the first time you’d cried about Timothée. The night after he told you about Lily, you’d been a little off at dinner, and while you excused it for being tired and still jet-lagged. Ansel and Z saw right through you, begging you to tell them what was going on. You told them, then made them swear they would act surprised when Timothée told them.

A little bit after you calmed down, Zendaya’s phone rang, it was Timothée. She tried to ignore it but you told her to pick up. She chatted for a minute, and you tried not to eavesdrop.

“I’m sorry...” she put down her phone and looked at you with “you’re in deep shit now” eyes

“Why, what’d he say?”

“Well, he said he tried to call you, but you didn’t pick up. I said you were with me and your phone was off, he asked to talk to you I said you were in the bathroom...”

“Thank you for that...” you sighed, she hesitated, “The point, Z?”

“Him and Lily got an early flight, they’re here, and they wanna go out to dinner...” you rested your face in your hands, of course, as if tonight couldn’t get any worse, “I can get you out of it?”

“No, no I wanna meet her, it’d be rude if I didn’t go,” you laid backwards on the couch, resting your head in a pillow, “I don’t even know why I’m acting like this, this is good for him, I’m just having a lapse in judgement, I swear I’m fine.”

“Eventually, you’re gonna have to stop telling yourself that, we both know why you’re upset,” You sighed. She was right, but it was so much harder to say it out loud. “Let’s call Ansel, go out to lunch, and then we’ll come back here, and I’ll give you a hot dress to wear, come on, let’s go.”

You went out to lunch. Ansel paid for you meal once he figured out what was up with you. You all went back to Z’s apartment where she gave you a nice blue dress to wear to shut up your complaining about how you had nothing to wear, which was wrong, you had a closet full of gorgeous dressed to wear, but none of them felt good enough. She put on a red dress.

“Lily, is going to eat. her. heart. out.” you playfully slapped her.

“I’m sure she’s very nice, don’t say things like that.” you laughed.

You all left Z’s apartment, headed to the restaurant. You were practically shaking in the car.

“It’ll be quick Y/n, really, really quick, we’ll go in eat, no dessert, head out.” Ansel said as he shook you out of your daze.

“No, no let’s stay the whole night, I’m really excited about this.” He laughed, even though he knew your sarcasm was just your way of covering up your emotion. As the car pulled up to the restaurant, Ansel got the door for you and Z, you walked into the restaurant and checked your coats, and that was when you spotted them. They looked so good together, sitting next to each other at the table you had to walk towards, it was time for you to put on the best fake-happy face you could.

AH IM EXCITED TO WRITE PART FOUR EEE

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR READING

taglist that I cant believe exists omg thank you all: @sspidermanss @fandom-food-fire @gigi-maria-argu @meaganl124 @danidomm @ewistel @booklover240 @daygiowvibe @spiderdudetom @tom-hollond @ilsolee

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