#and you have to wipe your face and sternly find that blind trust that things are going to keep going onwards towards brightness

[madamescarlette]

[only-one-brain-cell]

Treacherous, a Bridgerton story

Chapter 2

Summery: things heat up between Anthony and Aurora

Words: 1.8k

Warning: smut

Chapter 1, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12

Anthony

"Excuse me my lord, for I must take a break." Aurora said after our 3rd dance.

"Since when am I my lord?"

"If I keep calling you Anthony I fear some of these ladies may faint."

"As if you care what they or anyone else thinks."

"No but I don't believe your sister will be happy with people fainting during a ball she is hosting."

"That is a fair point indeed. Very well Lady Hathaway." I released my grasp from her and watched her walk away presumably to talk to Daphne or some other lady.

"Here I thought you two were just friends." I turned to face Mother. "We are.”

"Really? Because you could have fooled me, and everyone else at this ball."

"Mother-

"She is a beautiful lady." I groaned.

"Mother can we not discuss this right now?"

"You do agree she is beautiful then?" She smiled.

"If I do will you drop this? Also never speak or this to anyone else again?"

"I promise."

"Fine, Aurora is quite the beauty mother, I'm not blind."

"She would make a wonderful wife. How she is not already married is beyond me."

"Mother-

Before I could get another word in I was swept away by Colin and Benedict.

"Is something going on between you and Aurora?"

"Are you courting her?"

"Are you two too be married?"

"Will both of you shut up?" I asked sternly "as I told you both time and time again we are just friends." I walked away from both of them, eager to talk to someone who wasn't related to me.

It seems every man at the ball would like to talk about Aurora. Every corner I turned a man was in my face asking about Aurora and if we were courting.

"Bridgerton are you and Lady Hathaway courting?"

"Bridgerton are you thinking about marrying Lady Hathaway?"

"Bridgerton what's going on with you and Lady Hathaway." I swear I'm about to tell everyone in this ball to shut up, Aurora not included.

I managed to get away from everyone even Simon wanted to know about Aurora although I think it was more of being a messenger for Daphne then anything else. I should have a word with both of them tomorrow.

"Anthony?" I turned around to see Aurora.

"Aurora, what are you doing here by yourself?"

"It's a hallway Anthony I think I can manage."

"I see you managed to escape as well."

"Yes every lady and their mother wanted to know about my intentions with you. If anything your now even more desirable now."

"I don't see how that's possible."

"Trust me." She paused and I didn't miss her eye looking up and down at my body.

"It is."

"Well if anything you will have your hands just as full securing yourself a husband. I will help of course." Aurora burst into laughter.

"Have I amused you?"

"No it's just I remember Daphne writing to me about you "helping" her, I say this with all due respect Anthony: please don't."

"But who else would help you since your parents passing?" She scoffed

"As if my father would want to help me walking down the street much less finding a husband.

As for my mother..." her face fell and I saw her wipe a tear to her eye.

"Forgive me, that was unkind of me. I understand you were not close with your father. Your mothers passing must have made it that much harder." Aurora rarely spoke of her family, all that she has told me is that her father fled in the middle of the night when she was just a child and her mother passed away some years ago. She has never seen her father again even since her mothers passing not even a letter.

“My father is dead Anthony."

"What?"

"I got a letter, not from him of course but one of the servants. It was 6 months ago, I went to go see him one last time."

"Aurora I-

"It's ok Anthony I did not wish to tell anyone. He was unkind to me to the very end."

"How could a man be so evil as to be unkind to his only child?"

"I am thankful none of your sisters had to experience that."

"I'm sorry for being up such a awful subject please let us go back inside and dance."

"In front of everyone? Haven't you leaned your lesson Anthony? Or do you like getting all that attention from those lady's? By all means go dance with one of them, you might even find your wife there."

"Is that jealousy I'm detecting?" She laughed. Her laughter rang through the halls and what I won't give to hear her laugh every day.

I tried to push down that thought immediately, my family must be getting to me. Yes that's it and it's definitely not Aurora's beautiful blue eyes that I noticed seemed to be twinkle both in the ballroom and now. Or maybe it's her black hair done up in a braid that I would love to undo and run my hands through it. Or maybe it's her dress, her red dress that screams for it to be unlaced, Aurora was alway one to challenge society's standers even as children. She reminds me of Eloise in that away although my sister along with the rest of my family was far from my thoughts as I offered her my hand. She took it and we danced down the hallway me twirling Aurora around at every corner. Her beautiful smile gleamed, is there something in the air here? Or perhaps it's the lights. Either way I cannot think about Aurora this way anymore especially since she doesn't seem to reciprocate those feelings.

"This is much nicer:"

"I agree although I do miss the music."

"Not a problem" I stared humming along to her favourite song.

"You know it?"

"Of course what kind of friend would I be if I didn't know your favourite song?"

"That is the most thoughtful thing any man has ever done."

"You must have been around horrible men then."

"Oh you have no idea." We continued to dance, I brought her closer this time, the closest we've been. I can feel her chest against mine, her head now resting on my shoulder while my hand started slowly moving down her body. A act to bold to make but the look she gave me was no indication to stop.

"Anthony" she said before moving her face towards mine. "We shouldn't."

"Your right we shouldn't." She immediately pressed her lips against mine. I was surprised at first but then again Aurora is well known especially by my family to do as she likes. I brought my hands to cup her face breaking the kiss only to bite down on her lip, Aurora gasping as I made a trail of kisses down her neck before pressing her up against the nearest wall. Her hands wrapped around my neck tugging at my hair. My trail ended at the top of her breasts nipping at them before hooking my other arm around her leg pressing her against me. She moaned

"Not here darling. I simply want a taste of what you have to offer first."

"Anthony anyone could catch us."

"Which makes this much more exciting." She moaned as I bunched at her dress eager to explore what was underneath. She pressed her thighs against me as I threw away all of her undergarments.

"Why must you ladies have so many layers?"

"I'll try to wear less next time."

"There will be a next time?" I asked

"Well there won't be if you don't finish what you started."

"Trust me I intend to to exactly that." I had her moaning and griping my hair while I devoured every inch of her.

"Anthony I'm- she gasped loudly while I licked her clean. "Beautiful" I said kissing her inner thigh.

"Your turn" she replied, she took my hand and we ran into the nearest room before we got caught. There she all but ripped off my shirt.

"Edgar?" I asked

"Says the man that licked me clean in the middle of

a hallway.

"I'd do it again too, not just in a hallway too." I replied unlacing her dress as fast as I could before tossing it and everything else to the ground before finally taking a look at her.

"Beautiful" I replied, I couldn't help but stare at her body her breasts immediately caught my attention.

"Anthony are we going to do something or are you just going to stare at my breasts all night?"

"I intend to to both" I responded before bringing her in for another kiss. I wrapped my arm around her again this time pressing her against the wall. I don't know what room were in and I couldn't care less as she unlaced my trousers and pulled them down faster then I expected.

“Not your first time?" I asked

"Does that bother you?" She replied

"No, not at all."

"Good" she hosted her leg up as I finally moved inside her. Both of us gasped as I started thrusting

"Anthony faster!" She gripped onto my hair only encouraging me to listen. My thrusts got faster and harder she moaned with each thrust.

"Oh Anthony just like that." My mouth sucked on one of her breasts only for a moment before eagerly moving on to the next one. After giving it the same attention I licked right down between them.

"Aurora you so gorgeous and you feel so good." She nodded at a loss for words. I felt my climax approaching but I refuse to pull out before she finishes again.

"Are you close?" She nodded

"Me too"

"Should you-

"Not before you finish again." I thrusted two fingers inside her. She hit her head against the wall.

"Anthony yes!" I covered her mouth

"As much as I love listing to you moaning and screaming my name we can't risk someone hearing us." She nodded I removed my hand from her mouth and pressed it against the wall.

"I take it your close?" She nodded

"Good" I moved my fingers inside her while my thrusts got sloppier, a sure sign I couldn't hold back much longer.

"Anthony faster."

"That is simply-

"Your fingers" I nodded picking up the pace my fingers moving at a faster pace and even rubbing at her clit. She had to bit back another moan. I pushed her harder against the wall.

"I'm so close." I warned

"Me too" I pulled out with a gasp and bent my head back with a moan as I heard Aurora moan one last time. I looked at her breasts moving up and down as she caught her breath.

"My eyes are up here, my lord" my cock twitched at the sound of that. Normally I hate her calling me by my title but something about her calling me that while I'm deep inside her would be a different story.

"We should be getting back to the ball, before anyone notices we're gone." I said Aurora nodded.

Both of us got dressed quickly as we could before making our way to the ball as if nothing changed between us, meanwhile everything has changed

[gukyi]

the heiress and the hotelier | ksj

summary: when you share a kiss with a mysterious but gorgeous stranger on the night of your unwanted, lavish masquerade birthday party, the last thing you expect is for him to vanish at midnight on the dot. but when, as punishment for always arguing with him, your father assigns you to oversee the company’s newest resort hotel, you begin to realize that the handsome stranger may be closer than you think.

{cinderella!au, heiress reader!au, hotelier seokjin!au}

pairing: kim seokjin x female reader genre: fluff, comedy word count: 21k warnings: alcohol consumption (nothing major), workaholic characters, face blindness, idiots to lovers a/n: hello and welcome to guyi is a nonstop writer!! that’s the fuck right !!!! thank you so much to @aurawatercolor​ for commissioning me for this (again!) and for being genuinely wonderful. happy birthday! oh--and i’ll be on a socially-distanced vacation this upcoming week, so i’ll be a little more inactive than usual, but here’s this fic to keep you occupied while i’m gone!

Your birthdays have never belonged to you.

Not when you were little, when your mother was always the most excited for you to open your presents and host your birthday party. Not when you were older, and your parents started using your age as a reason for you to start learning the inner workings of the family business under the understanding that you would one day inherit it. And certainly not when you’re an adult, when all your birthdays ever remind you of are the years gone by, blowing past you like dandelion wisps, glimpses of memories that are too nimble to catch between your fingertips. 

When people say that time goes by faster as you get older, they aren’t saying it because your life is getting exponentially more interesting with each day that passes. They aren’t saying it because you’re having more fun or doing more things, things that distract you to the point of looking out your window and realizing that it’s dark outside. 

They say it because the more years that you have lived, the more years you have to remember. And when you have to recall something as overwhelming as your life, your brain makes shortcuts. The days, weeks, and months blur together, leaving behind snippets from events that your memory deems worthy, events that have become less and less frequent with time. You can’t remember the last major celebration you had. Perhaps your university graduation?

The thing about birthdays is that you know that there will always be one next year. So why bother with celebrating now?

You would give anything to have everyone pretend that your birthday is just a normal day. 

Unfortunately for you, you are the only one in your family who seems to have adopted this mindset. 

Heaving out a sigh, you look at yourself in the mirror, reflection bathed in the white light of the bathroom, stark and unforgiving. In the merciless glow of the bathroom, you barely recognize yourself. Gone are the deep eye bags that you’ve so dearly acquainted yourself with, tired eyes covered with contacts to bring back the shimmer that has long been lost. You gaze into your eyes and they don’t even feel like they’re yours anymore. 

In your hand sits the masquerade mask you had ripped off the moment you entered the bathroom, having been desperate to take it off from the minute you arrived at the hotel. The feathers brush against your skin, soft and black, a custom-made accessory designed to match your gown, an ink black floor-length piece with onyx gems that sparkle silver in the light. 

Hoseok was going for a black swan theme—said that it would match your personality perfectly. You’re not exactly sure what he meant by that. 

Frantically, like there is a timer ticking down inside of you that you cannot turn off, you pull the mask back on, adjusting it over your eyes until it sits just right, resting atop the bridge of your nose. Hiding behind it, you can almost deceive yourself into thinking, if only for this one night, you are someone else. 

The door swings open next to you, revealing a guest that you don’t recognize, someone on the list of hundreds that your mother invited, none of whom you know very well and could certainly not identify beneath a masquerade mask. She smiles in that polite, awkward way as she rushes into a stall, deep maroon train trailing behind her, leaving you stuck between a rock and a hard place, having no desire to go back out into the fray but also not wanting to stay in the bathroom and listen to other people do their business. 

Thank God she didn’t recognize you. Your mother was insistent that you be recognized as the guest of honor despite the whole point of a masquerade party being the inability to correctly identify people, so you might as well be walking around in a t-shirt with your face on it. At least the mask is doing something. 

You blink at yourself, hoping that maybe if you close your eyes enough, when you open them you’ll be someone else. When that doesn’t seem to work, you take a breath and fix your mask one last time before heading back into the ballroom. 

Immediately, amongst the crowd of people, all of whom are only here to elevate their own statuses by being associated with an event hosted by your family, you spot the back of Jungkook’s head, deep brunette tufts of hair deftly styled by a whole team of people, a slicked back, Phantom of the Opera style. He’s got on a tuxedo and mask to match, but even with that on you could recognize him in your sleep. He is your brother, after all. 

He’s talking animatedly with the pianist, an old mutual friend of your family’s named Yoongi, who isn’t wearing a mask and is thus immediately identifiable. Not to mention the fact that your family has known his since before you learned to walk. As you get closer to them, you notice that his maskless-ness is because Jungkook’s got it snatched up in between his fingers, dangling it in front of Yoongi like the taunting claw of a rigged toy machine. You decide not to bother them. He’s always been closer with Jungkook, anyway.

You really wish your mother better understood what a masquerade-themed party meant. You can’t get more than three steps in before being stopped by someone you can hardly recognize, all smiles for the birthday girl. They wish you a happy birthday and give you a lifeless compliment that goes in one ear and out the other before going on their way, positively thrilled that they’ve been invited to an event as grand as this and determined to make the most of it. 

Eventually, after far too many interruptions, you make it to the catering table, helping yourself to a piece of the five-tiered, golden-iced cake your parents had ordered. At least they got your favorite flavor right—chocolate and vanilla swirl. You wait happily beside the rest of the catered food as you eat, hoping that you are just out of reach enough to go unnoticed. The least your birthday party guests could do is leave you alone. 

“Y/N!”

Never mind. 

You look up to the source of the sound and find only your father approaching, all dressed up in a crisp suit from the same tailors that made Jungkook’s. He isn’t wearing a mask and apparently doesn’t need one, since it is your birthday and not his. Not a good enough excuse, in your opinion. 

“Dad,” you say with a smile, wiping away the icing you feel sitting just off the corner of your lips. 

“Enjoying yourself?” He asks heartily, all smiles because he’s always felt rather at home surrounded by this sort of grandeur, almost as much as your mother. No wonder the two of them get along so well. 

“The cake is nice,” you dodge the question. 

“Ah, glad you like it,” he says, helping himself to his own piece. “We were going to get red velvet but then Jungkook reminded us your favorite flavor was the swirly one,” he laughs to himself, like it’s funny that they almost got it wrong. “Had to call the bakery last minute and change it.”

You purse your lips together in a tense smile, fork picking at the crumbs left on your plate. 

“Have you been chatting with your friends?” He asks. 

“Here and there,” you respond. Nobody here, except perhaps Jungkook and Yoongi, would be people you considered friends. Acquaintances at best. And besides, it’s not like you can even identify half of the attendees anyway. “You?” You always do much better when the topic of conversation is not your social life. 

“Ah, yes, of course, you know me,” he jokes, always the aristocrat. “I was just speaking with Mr. Oh about that corporate investment deal that I had been arranging with him.”

“Dad,” you say, exasperated, “You know that I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Y/N,” he says, already beginning to get frustrated. You and him have shared this conversation countless times already. “You aren’t the final decision maker. You know that.”

“Yes, but you value my input, don’t you?” You challenge. He nods tensely. “So listen to me. I don’t think this deal will be good for us. Even though the Oh’s have more money in their investments, they aren’t transparent with it. If you make this deal you won’t know where our money is going.”

“Nonsense,” your father rebukes. “Mr. Oh and I have known each other for years. I trust him. You’re just saying this because you don’t like their son.”

“Sehun has nothing to do with this,” you argue, even if it is true. Your mother had set you up on a blind date with him a couple of years ago and from the moment he walked through the door, you knew it would go south. He’s got the same conceited attitude his father has. “I don’t think it’s a wise business decision.”

“You mustn’t let personal grievances get in the way of your work and you know that,” your father commands sternly, eyebrows furrowed as he looks at you. “What will you do when you are the CEO of Jeon Group? Are you going to let pettiness get in the way of major advancements for the company?”

“No!” You insist, though you are far too gone for your father to believe you. 

“This deal is happening and that’s final, Y/N,” your father declares harshly, eyes narrowed at you. 

“But, Dad—”

“I don’t want to hear another word from you about this,” he directs. “You should know better than to argue with me about this sort of thing. Especially here. Your mother worked very hard on putting this party on for you, and you should be grateful.”

You exhale, incensed. “I am, Dad, but the business means more to me than—”

“Stop. You can’t change my mind.” Your father sets his finished plate down on a cart an arm’s length away, piled high with discarded dishes, glasses and utensils. “Go talk with your friends instead.” You frown at him, nose scrunched up in contempt. He gestures you away from him. “Go.”

Sighing, you wipe away the sweat that has gathered along your temples and go back out into the center of the ballroom, watching begrudgingly as your father steers you from him, having deemed your conversation over even if you weren’t finished talking. It’s obvious that there’s no more getting through to him. Unless all of the Ohs are suddenly arrested for embezzling funds or mail fraud, that deal is happening.

Standing in the middle of the room, you turn around once and you’re immediately lost amongst all of the guests, surrounded by people everywhere you look. You turn back to where your father was standing but he’s vanished, and when you turn the other way, Jungkook has disappeared from beside the grand piano as well. It feels like you’re outnumbered, like you’re trapped in a maze of people with no end in sight, like one wrong move and suddenly they will all turn to look at you, stare you down like camera lenses, relentless flashes of light. Nobody to talk to, nowhere to run. 

You’re stuck. 

Now that you think about it, you sort of always have been. 

The room gets blurrier.

“Hey, are you alright?” A voice asks. 

You feel like you spin around several times before your eyes focus in on the man it belongs to. 

“Here, come on, let’s get out of here.”

Your feet move against your mind’s better judgement, the man ushering you away from the center of the room and out of the crowd. You barely notice the direction he’s taking you in until you feel the cool late night air blow past you, tickling your skin and sending shivers down your spine. 

It’s the balcony.

The glass door shuts behind the two of you, sending a stream of wind against your back as it effectively removes all of the background noise of the party, containing it within the ballroom, leaving the both of you shrouded in the stars’ silence. 

Out here, you have a perfect view of the city. Even though it’s nearing midnight, the lights are still on, coating the town in a twinkling glow, yellow lights flickering on and off, as if someone were looking at the universe from far beyond it. Some parts of the city go to sleep when the sun sets. Others are just waking up. 

Next to you, the man removes his suit jacket and drops it ceremoniously on the floor at his feet, arms resting on the balcony’s railing as he gazes out into the distance. As you look out into the same deep navy sky, it’s almost as if the rest of the night has faded away. You don’t know who he is and you can only hope that he doesn’t know you either, hope that he has rescued you from the crowd to talk you down rather than talk you up. But you don’t miss the way he hasn’t said a word to you since you stepped foot outside, hasn’t dared to initiate contact just in case you were looking for a respite from all of it. 

At this angle, you can turn your head just enough to get a good look at him, at the way half of his face is enveloped in shadow while the other half is letting the moonlight do all of the talking. From here, the light from the full moon is faint, a barely-there silver glow, but it casts him in just enough light to make him seem as though he belongs in a dream. Like he isn’t even real. It highlights the sharpness of his jaw, the peaks of his cheekbones, his round button nose. But what it really makes gleam are his eyes, almost pitch black in the night. They reflect the sky like nothing else, glimmers of faint starlight in an ocean of ink.

Quite frankly, you wouldn’t mind staying like this for the rest of the night. 

“Thank you.” You breathe out the words and immediately feel his gaze jerk sharply towards you. “For getting me out of there.”

“Of course,” he says, and oh, goodness, his voice is thick and warm and comforting, like a fireplace on a cool night, like a blanket after a nightmare. “You just seemed like you needed a break.”

“You could say that,” you say, shrugging to yourself. You could use more than a break. A general pause on life is something you certainly wouldn’t object to—if only it was that easy. But hey, you take what is given to you and never miss an opportunity if you can help it. There’s a lot that you can (and do) complain about but even more than you should be grateful for. Your father was right. This party took a lot of planning on your mother’s part and you spent half of it in the bathroom wishing you were anywhere but here.

“A lot on your plate?” He asks with a smile, a real one, one that isn’t forced like everybody else. Almost like he’s smiling because he’s actually enjoying himself. 

“I feel like it’s endless,” you say, keeping it vague because, as it stands, this gorgeous man does not know who you are, and you would like to keep it that way.

“As is all of life,” he says sagely, almost as if it’s a reminder to himself as well. You wonder what he must have on his mind. You wonder if it’s worth sharing your life with a stranger. “It looked like you had a lot on your mind back in there.” He gestures weakly back towards the door. 

“I have a lot on my mind no matter where I am,” you correct, and you try to make it sound funny but instead it just comes out sounding sad. Normally you wouldn’t be cracking jokes at your expense in front of someone whose name you don’t even know, but you had a couple of drinks tonight and the taste is still fresh on your tongue, sitting alongside all of the words you want to say but don’t know how to. 

The man leaves it at that, not wanting to push any further, but you aren’t finished yet. Someone might as well know how you feel, since you bottle it up around everyone else. 

“Do you ever wish that you could just… I don’t know. Disappear?” You turn to look at him, heaving out a sigh. He doesn’t say anything, simply gazes back at you, like he’s willing you to carry on. It, in a way, worries you. “Ugh. I feel ridiculous saying it out loud.”

There’s a tense, pregnant pause between the two of you. It makes you feel like talking was a mistake. 

“It’s not ridiculous.” It almost sounds like the words are coming from someone else. Like this whole thing is just a figment of your imagination, created by your mind to keep you company because there’s no one else to turn to. 

He’s staring out over the balcony now, waiting for you to continue. 

“I don’t know,” you say, feeling utterly idiotic, like a fish out of water. “Sometimes I just wish that I could go somewhere else and be someone else and not have to worry about all of the things in my life. Things like my family, and my work. There are so many things that people expect of me. All the time. It feels like I’m living for them instead of myself.”

He nods along, holding back to see if you have anything else to say. You must sound like such an ungrateful little rich girl, you think to yourself. Complaining about this fabulous party and incredible life that you live, a life filled with wealth and grandeur and power, a life that most people dream of having. What will he think of you?

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. “I probably sound like such a spoiled brat.”

“You don’t,” he immediately assures you, taking a step to his right and closing the gap between you two. “It doesn’t sound like that at all.”

“Then what does it sound like?” You muse to yourself, forcing a laugh. 

“It sounds like you have a lot that you feel like you owe to other people,” he says organically. “You know, like you feel like you have to do all of these things because you can’t let other people down. I get it. I know that everyone nowadays is all, ‘You shouldn’t give a shit about what other people think of you, just do whatever you want,’ but it’s hard not to think about what other people think of you. And what other people expect from you. Letting them down sucks.”

You chuckle. Sounds about right. You may not be completely satisfied with your life right now but that doesn’t mean you’re going to fling your responsibilities onto the shoulders’ of other people. Your father works hard, your mother works hard, your brother works hard. The least you could do for them is offer up the same diligence.

“You’re quite the smooth talker,” you joke, looking him up and down and nodding your approval. He’s definitely figured you out, at least. 

“I’m just a people person,” the man admits. “I like talking with people.”

“And here I was, thinking that I’d be confessing my secrets to a brick wall,” you say, making him crack a smile, another real one. You like the look of them. A part of you wants to do it more often. 

“Secrets, huh?” He asks, sliding another inch closer, daringly so, teetering on the edge of territory that you haven’t touched in years. “I like the sound of that. Got any more for me?”

You smirk up at him, a grin playing on your lips. “Only if you have one for me in return. No freebies.”

He laughs, loud and clear, the sound ringing out in the nighttime air. “Alright,” he says, obliging. He leans in close, lips hovering above your ear. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

You’ve been listening to compliments all night but this one makes the heat rush to your cheeks like nothing else, a fire set alight in your veins. 

“That’s a secret, is it?” You ask, suddenly feeling shy, looking all around you just so you don’t have to look him in his eyes and feel your legs turn to jelly. 

“Not anymore,” he reminds you. “What about you? Anything else to share with me?” He’s standing dangerously close to you now, barely half a foot of space between your bodies as he leans into you, hands hovering above your waist. 

Slowly he begins to tilt his head towards you, and while you’ve never been one for dramatics, you have to admit that you haven’t felt this way since your schoolgirl crush days back when you were a teenager, giddy and electric and desperately craving more. 

You watch as his lips flutter above yours, feel transparent underneath his steel gaze, and you say, “I think you’re gorgeous, too.”

The fireworks thing had always been over the top for you. Like it was impossible for a kiss to feel that explosive to anyone, setting you alight over and over and over again. But his lips pressed against yours come pretty damn close. It makes your whole body go weak, like you can barely hold yourself up, hands clutching onto his sleeves just to make sure you don’t go topping off the balcony. He kisses you and you swear that you would never do this sort of thing normally—go about your romantic interests like a professional, a couple of dates and then perhaps a kiss on your doorstep—but goddamn, it feels like you might just give up everything for him. It feels like there are sparks running all across your skin, sending jolts of life into your heart. It feels like he is someone you are going to miss.

It lasts too long and ends too quickly all at once. You distantly hear the party celebrate the clock striking twelve indoors, cheers and screams and shouts as people rally themselves to continue long after the mark of a new day, and feel him pull away from you at the very same instant. Shamelessly, you instinctively reach up to try and meet his lips again, refusing to believe it’s over, but already he’s separating himself from you. 

“Hey, what’s wrong—?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing, I promise,” the man says, the words barely registering in your kiss-drunk haze. He scoops up his jacket from the floor and immediately begins to head back inside. “I just have to go, really. It’s nothing.”

You freeze, mouth agape. “Wait, I don’t even know your—”

“It was really nice meeting you, I hope that we can see each other again!” He pulls open the door with one final grin, one beautiful, brilliant smile, and then suddenly, he’s gone. 

You feel the rush of wind blow against your skin, holding you hostage on the balcony as you stare at the closed door, almost like he had never been here at all. 

It wasn’t a dream. It couldn’t have been. He was real, and he was here, and then he was right in front of you, his hands were on your waist, his lips were on your lips. And still, it’s almost as if it never even happened. 

You blink back at the door, trying to convince yourself that you are still awake, that you haven’t gone mad with loneliness, when you feel yourself step on something. 

It’s his mask. A plain, black one with a couple of decorative touches. The string meant to secure it to his face is broken, having probably snapped in half in his rush to leave, leaving it as the only reminder that you didn’t dream up the entire ordeal to begin with. 

You reach down to pick it up, letting it rest between your fingertips, and you laugh. Here you are, having fallen for a man whose name you don’t know and whom you don’t think you’ll ever see again, the only piece left you have of him being a broken, forgotten masquerade mask. Like the worst rendition of Cinderella ever. 

Leaning back over the balcony, you sigh, resigning yourself to the fact that even if tonight was more eventful than you thought it would be, you will have to get up tomorrow morning and go to work, just the same. 

And you suppose that that really is what the man was talking about when he said life was endless. 

It’s not that it has no end. It’s just that it doesn’t really feel like you’re ever beginning something new. 

You wake up in a cold sweat and are convinced you dreamt of the whole thing until you see the mask sitting on your chest of drawers, grounding you back to reality. 

You wonder what it is about him, about last night, that so easily deceives you into thinking it never happened. Perhaps it was the time, or the alcohol on your tongue, or how storybook the whole thing felt, from the talking to the kissing to the disappearing into the night. Or perhaps it was the fact that you can’t remember the last time someone made you feel the way that he made you feel, can’t remember the last time someone kissed you like he did. Like your brain was convinced it would just never happen. 

At least you know that there’s still a little hope for you.

A part of you almost thinks that, for the rest of time, you won’t be able to think of anything but the mystery man and his excellent kissing skills. Even the morning after, the tingling feeling on your lips still lingers like lint on a blazer, like a scar that won’t fade. It feels like it won’t ever go away, dancing along your lips every time you look in a mirror. You hardly remember anything else about that night besides him, besides talking to him, besides his lips on yours. 

You continue to live in this post-kiss bliss for another ten minutes as you help yourself to breakfast and hum a mindless tune. Then your phone lights up. 

“Hey, Dad!” You say cheerfully, practically bouncing on your feet. 

“Y/N,” he says gruffly. “You haven’t left for work yet, have you?”

“Nope,” you say, stuffing a spoonful of Honey Nut Cheerios into your mouth. “Why? Do you need me to bring something?”

“Actually, Y/N, you won’t be coming to the office today.” His tone is stern and sharp, no-nonsense. The same way he speaks to interns who have fucked up. 

Oh, no. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, trying to keep your tone positive even though you already know you’re toast. 

“I’m assigning you to watch over the new resort hotel at the edge of the city.” Your father has never been known to beat around the bush. 

“What?” You gasp out, shocked. “Dad, you know that I—”

“You wanted more independence and more input in decision-making, didn’t you?” He says pointedly, a reminder of last night.

“Yes, but I—”

“Good,” he declares. “This resort is going to be your responsibility and I want to see that you are doing well with the tasks at hand.”

“Dad, that sounds good, but you know I much prefer more corporate responsibilities—”

“And at this resort, you will have that,” he informs you. “It’s high time you take on your own tasks instead of doing the ones that I hand down to you. I expect to see this resort flourish.” You don’t understand his logic. Isn’t he literally handing you an entire resort to oversee? A brand new one, too?

“But wouldn’t you rather manage such a new hotel? What if it starts to encounter deficits?” You plead, a final attempt to get him to take your name off of this project so you can go back to doing what you’re used to instead of being flung a brand new resort you definitely aren’t keen on overseeing. 

“Then I should hope to see you solve them quickly,” he clips, effectively dissolving any hope you had that he would change his mind. Normally, you love your father’s typical hands-off approach when it comes to business, usually because it allows you to gain working experience without him carrying you every step of the way, but right now, you just wish he was more of a selfish businessman. For once, it would actually work out quite well for you. 

“Dad—”

“I’ll be checking in.”

He hangs up. 

Standing in the middle of your kitchen, you huff, nose scrunched up and eyebrows furrow as you try to think your way out of this. Getting through to your father is impossible, getting through to your mother, even more so. She’s always preferred to stick to philanthropy, anyway, having zero interest in what you and your father do. You scowl to yourself, already beginning to run out of options. Is your list really that short? Who else in your family could help?

Suddenly, you smack your head, shocked at how forgetful you’ve been. You grab your phone from where it sits on the counter and dial his number. 

“Y/N?” Jungkook asks from the other end, voice still groggy. At least he gets to sleep in. 

“Hey, Jungkook,” you say, sighing out your hello to sound more casual. 

“What’s up?” He asks in between yawns. 

“Listen, Dad just assigned me to oversee that new resort hotel on the beach just outside of town,” you say economically. You’ve always gotten straight to the point with your brother. It’s the only reason the two of you aren’t constantly at each other’s necks anymore. 

“Really? That’s awesome!” Jungkook says excitedly, voice jumping up half an octave. 

“I mean…” You begin, because it’s really… not.

“This probably means that Dad’s going to retire soon, don’t you think? Since he’s giving you such a big responsibility, right?” Jungkook asks, a suggestion that nearly sends you into a coughing fit at the mere thought of it. Retirement?

“You think so?” You ask, a little terrified. 

“I don’t know,” Jungkook says, and you can hear his nonchalant shrug through the phone. “Maybe. He has been talking a lot recently about what’s going to happen when you take over the company.”

“Don’t you want that same responsibility, though?” Jungkook has never been treated as a business equal the same way you have, despite having the same expensive education as you and being much better with people. You’ve always wondered if that’s bothered him. 

“Not really,” Jungkook tells you, and you can hear the familiar log-in sound of his computer in the background. “I mean, I’ve always known you were going to inherit the company. This sort of thing just makes sense to me.”

You frown to yourself. “You don’t want to be involved with the business at all?”

“No, it’s not like that,” Jungkook says with a sigh, voice still groggy. “I’m happy that I’m getting the work experience and everything. But it’s just never something I’ve seen as part of my future.”

Mostly because it’s always been yours. 

The fact of the matter is that Jungkook, even if he is younger, and a little more rambunctious, and a little bit more impulsive, has always been the better candidate to take over the family business. He excels at task-driven jobs and has charmed the pants off of everyone he’s ever met, from Yoongi to your florist to the nice woman at the customer service counter at your local grocery store. He’s a quick decision-maker and never second-guesses himself. He also has zero problems with his love life and potential partners, something that your parents are desperate for you to figure out. He’s perfect for the position. 

So why are you the heir?

“What, are you just going to livestream video games for a living, then?” You ask snarkily, already knowing that he’s sat at his desk, ready for another match. 

“Probably. I could probably double the family’s fortune, you know,” he says, and he’s right. What he does is equally as profitable as what you do, and he gets bonus points because it’s something that he genuinely enjoys. 

“You better get started then, gamer boy,” you say, hearing his bubbly laugh echo through the phone before you hang up. 

Jungkook would take over the resort hotel management if you asked, and you know it. He’s got the experience and the expertise to do it flawlessly, no questions asked. But he won’t, because you won’t ask that of him. Because even if you don’t want to do it, it is better you than him. Someone in this family deserves to do what they love for a living. And nobody deserves that more than him. 

The Honey Nut Cheerios slosh around in the milk in the bowl in front of you. You aren’t very hungry anymore. 

Your father has always had an eye for design, a trait he never seemed to pass on to you. It’s no wonder why he’s the one the architectures and interior decorators run everything by while you manage the finances. It’s something your mother always says she loves about him. So, even if you are assigned to oversee a resort hotel that you have zero interest in whatsoever, at least it looks nice. 

“Whoa, this place is fancy,” Hoseok says, gasping as the two of you step out of the car beneath the golden awning that covers the hotel entrance. There are little lights lining the structure, something to bathe the canopy in a sparkling glow when the sun says goodbye for the day, light it up like stars in the night sky. 

“You’ve been to my house, this is nothing,” you say with a shrug, making him laugh as the doors open for you, carpet plush and hardly touched. From what you read in the file your father sent you, this place hasn’t been open for more than two weeks. 

It looks like it’s barely been occupied. 

The security guard, a gruff, stout man, nods a hello to you as you enter. 

“Uh, your house doesn’t have security guards,” Hoseok whispers into your ear as you pass him, pointing rather conspicuously to the man behind you. “Your dad really went all out on this one.”

You huff, gritting your teeth. Good thing it’s not an eyesore, otherwise you don’t think you’d last a week here. “Well, he’s always loved the beach.” 

“Why does that not surprise me,” Hoseok lilts, whistling as he gazes away from you, guilty. 

You smack him with the back of your hand in the middle of his torso. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he says, backing off even though he knows he’s the only person (well, besides Jungkook) who can get away with saying that sort of thing in front of you. “You two have always been polar opposites, I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, well, say it in your head,” you sulk, hitting him again so that he straightens up. You both have a duty to make a good first impression, though Hoseok’s red suit is doing half of the work for him. 

As you enter, all of the staff behind the desk scramble to get to their positions, hands together neatly in front of them as you peer over your wire-rimmed glasses to get a good look at the place. It’s clean, elegant, with touches of luxury here and there, a golden coffee table, an accent along the lining of the walls. It smells faintly of lemon and mostly of the ocean, a scent you are going to have to get used to. Everything seems to be in order. 

You stroll up the front desk, eyeing everything closely. Behind it, the three employees currently on front-desk duty wait patiently for you to speak. Their names are written in capital letters on gold-plated tags, pinned to the pockets of their blazers. You nod as you memorize their names. Irene, Seohyun, and Seokjin. 

Seokjin looks positively wide-eyed, flabbergasted to be seeing you, to be standing in front of you. There’s this faint sort of recognition on his face, like he’s just realized something life-altering, and he’s doing a rather poor job of hiding it. Perhaps he’s just starstruck.

“Well, we might as well get the introductions over with,” you declare, clapping your hands together. The sound makes the three of them jump. “If you didn’t know, I’m Y/N, and I’ll be overseeing this hotel for the foreseeable future. So let’s get along well together. For all of our sakes.”

They nod, polite smiles on their faces. 

“Which one of you is the hotelier?” You ask, looking between the three of them. Your father had written it down in that file somewhere but quite frankly, you were so exasperated that you had been assigned the hotel that you hadn’t really looked it over properly. 

“That would be me,” the man, Seokjin, says with a tense, small little grin, nodding his head when you turn to face him. He looks strikingly familiar, this sort of picturesque nostalgia that you can’t quite place, angles sharp in the bright light of the hotel. You wonder where you’ve seen it before. Possibly in some magazine or at an event. He certainly is worthy of being photographed. 

“Excellent,” you declare happily. “Then you’re on my staff, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I just received word about that last night,” he affirms. 

“Wonderful,” you say, fingers tapping against the granite countertops. “I can tell that this will all go smoothly, so long as we all make sure to stay on task. Sounds good?”

“Of course, Miss Jeon,” Seokjin says. 

“Please, call me Y/N. I do hate formalities,” you request. “So, shall we get started? I trust that you all know exactly what you’re doing. But I would like to receive a few updates here and there about the goings-on here. Mostly, I would like all total daily income numbers to be faxed to my office, transcripts of all of the customer service requests, and an updated menu. The pizza is far too cheap and the lobster just as expensive. How’s that for a starting list?”

“Would you like those numbers in an Excel sheet or graphed?” Irene asks, eyebrows raised. 

“Both,” you answer. She and Seohyun get right to work, leaving you feeling confident that this won’t be a complete train wreck. “Seokjin, you are with me.” You gesture for him to come out from behind the desk, and begin to walk around the lobby of the hotel, hoping to put some distance between you two and the other employees. He stays a solid two feet behind you the entire time, taking quick, short steps so he doesn’t dare start to catch up. 

“How can I help, Miss Jeon?” He asks, eyes wide.

You smile, shaking your head. “I told you that Y/N is fine. In any case, since you are the hotelier, I will need a little more from you.” He nods. “First, I need a summary of all expenses and income since you opened, preferably in Excel and formatted cleanly. I’ll also need a list of all of the employees, their respective positions, and their salaries. It would be great if we could begin to eliminate the part-time slots and allow the employees to become full-time so that they receive the same benefits as you and I. I’ll also need information on their schedules.” 

You notice he isn’t writing any of this down, simply bobbing his head as you lift off everything you want and a few things that you’re throwing in just so you don’t have to do them. 

“I assume that you don’t have constant contact with my father, but I don’t mind being the messenger in regards to hotel infrastructure and design. Any and all malfunctions should also be reported to me. It would also be great if we could maybe lose the curtains in the lobby. I think they close up the room. But, your choice.” You narrow your eyes, looking around to see if there’s anything else that needs urgent attention, when you see Hoseok already beginning to hunt through the concessions room, picking up bags of different themed Jelly Belly. “I think that should be enough for now. Update me whenever possible, please.”

“You got it,” Seokjin says, heading back to the desk as quickly as he had walked away from it, concentration washing over his features. It does, at least, bring you comfort that nobody seems particularly incompetent. 

Behind you, you can hear Hoseok muttering a few things at the front desk, most likely having to do with you and your attitude. But you don’t think it’s that big of a deal. You’ve always been work-oriented. It’s always been your biggest focus. Lingering in the lobby, you gaze out the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at the entrance, the slick, newly-paved asphalt, the tropical flowers that surround it. You have always preferred a city to a beach, but at least the time might pass quicker here with people who know how to do their jobs.

Perhaps this might not be so bad after all. 

Then, your phone vibrates in your pants pocket. 

“Mom,” you greet, surprised that she’s calling you during work. “Hey, how are you?”

“Wonderful!” She shrieks, always the energizer. “Your father told me all about how he assigned you to oversee that new resort. I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks,” you respond, lifeless. 

“You know, you have a lot of responsibility now,” she reminds you, as if you had already forgotten how much work goes into supervising something like this. “Directing a hotel and its staff is a big deal. I don’t want you to think that you can just slack off.”

“Mom, I’m not going to slack off,” you explain. “You know I care about this stuff, just like Dad.”

“I know, I know, I’m just making sure. We want to make sure the company is in good hands when your father retires. He doesn’t have too many years left, you know.”

“Well, whenever he’s ready, I’ll be too,” you assure her, a promise you have vowed to uphold, no matter what becomes of you or your social life. 

“Good.” The conversation ends there. Or, more takes a quick pause, which can only mean one thing. Your mother has something else she needs to tell you. “Speaking of seeing you off…”

“Yes—?”

“Your father and I both think it’s high time you start to settle down with someone. You know we don’t want to see you end up all alone,” she begins, the same argument that you’ve had with your parents time and time again. 

“Mom, you know that I’m not really interested in going out and finding people right now.” Or ever. 

“Yes,” she begins, sucking in her breath between her teeth. Oh, goodness, what’s she going to say now? “But luckily, you don’t have to. You’re so busy, we can’t expect you to just drop everything. So we did.”

“You what?”

“Your father and I have set you up on some dates—just a couple!—with some of his associates’ sons,” she explains, but you are already livid. “We just think that you should be taking more time to see—”

“See what?” You demand. “See his friends’ bratty sons tell me how much money they make? See their cars and their clothes and their stupid Italian leather shoes? See them tell me how I work too hard and that I should just stay at home while they go out and change the world? No thank you.” You can’t name a thing in this world less appealing. Except perhaps supervising a resort hotel against your will. But even that’s better, because the men here actually know what they’re doing.

“Honey, you just aren’t giving them the opportunity—”

“Mom, they don’t deserve an opportunity. I don’t need to be dating people right now. At all!” You exclaim. “Like you said, I’m busy. If Dad is going to retire soon then I need to be ready for it. I have other priorities.”

“Your happiness is our priority,” your mother insists, convinced she’s doing you a good deed by setting you up on blind dates with rich men who care more about their watches and Italian leather shoes than they would a woman. 

“Working makes me happy,” you say between gritted teeth. “I’m perfectly happy as I am.”

“Will you please just give them a try, honey? You never know,” she pleads, desperate to get you to agree with something.

“Fine,” you say, caving in just to get her to stop talking about it. “But don’t expect anything out of it.”

“Yay! That’s all I wanted to hear.” You can hear her relief through the phone. 

“Anything else?” You ask, rubbing at your temples, wishing desperately for this day to be over so you can just go home and take a nice, hot bath, and dream about the mystery man in his black masquerade mask. You’re not interested in dating, sure, but for him, you think you'd make an exception. If only you knew who he was. 

“That’s it. Love you, honey, congratulations on the new resort!” She hangs up in that same voice that she started with, bubbly and animated, and the moment you hear the line go dead, you throw your dignity to the dogs and groan to yourself. 

“God almighty,” you mutter angrily, shaking your head as you rest your head in your hands, fingers massaging at your forehead. Another blind date? How could you possibly have agreed to that? The more you think about the more you wish that this part of your life was the dream instead. Fairytales are overrated but quite frankly, you certainly wouldn’t mind if that man from the party waltzed right into your life and swept you off your feet. He certainly had no trouble doing it last night. You wonder what he’s up to, now—

“Miss Jeon?”

You jump at the voice, scaring both you and Seokjin as you turn, a little cry escaping your lips instinctively. “Oh my God, you frightened me. And please, Y/N is fine. Better, actually.”

Seokjin looks like a deer in headlights, terrified to even talk to you, let alone address you by your first name. You appreciate the professionalism but have never been too fond of the whole ‘Miss’ thing. As if you or your parents need any more reminding that you’re single. Your first name feels much more natural. He flounders twice, opening his mouth to say something before shutting it again, as though whatever he says will suddenly enrage you. 

“Do you… need anything, Seokjin?” You ask, prompting him since he doesn’t seem to be taking matters into his own hands. 

The sound of his name from your lips snaps him out of his daze. “Oh! Yes, I do, actually. I just wanted to ask if you wanted me to include personal expenses on the part of the hotelier in the Excel sheet.”

“Personal expenses? Did you receive a credit from my father?” You ask, an eyebrow raised in surprise. 

“Yes, it was mailed to me just last week. I’ve only used it for a couple of items, though—”

“Like what?” You ask, head tilted. 

He blushes red, cheeks rosy like cherries in summer. “The curtains in the lobby.”

You bark out a laugh, amused at how unexpected this whole thing is. The one thing Seokjin spends money on, you instruct him to take down. At the sound of your chortle, Seokjin backs away, like a cat scared of thunder claps. “Of course,” you say, looking up at the sky and exhaling. Fate. “Please include those.” He nods, already making to scurry back to the front desk, but another sentence from your mouth stops him in his tracks. “Oh, and if you think that the curtains look nice, then leave them. I was never good at interior design anyway.”

You crack a smile, hoping that Seokjin will at least recognize that you’re attempting to be funny and grin, validating you and your lacking sense of humor. He doesn’t, but he does nod once more, and you at least feel like the ice between you is beginning to crack. 

Seokjin rushes back towards the front desk, taking on the enormous list of tasks you’ve assigned him without so much blinking an eye. You watch as his eyebrows furrow in concentration, knitting themselves together above the scrunch of his nose, as his eyes zero in on his computer screen. It’s obvious that he knows exactly what he’s doing and has no issues regarding his work whatsoever. Good thing he’s the hotelier. 

From here, you can use supervision as a cover for the way that you are blatantly ogling him, his figure and his face, finding yourself rather impressed at the sight in front of you. Here, in this lavish, modern hotel, he looks like a prince rather than a manager, clean button-down shirt and fitted slacks, tailored to fit his short torso and long legs. His hair hangs in front of his face in strands, the same sort of hairstyle that the attractive male love interests get, messy and tousled but still fresh. It looks good on him. He certainly wears it well. 

You don’t think being here will be too bad, so long as you have him. 

“Hey.” You feel Hoseok wrap his arm around you, joining you as you stand by the windows. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you promise. “I am.”

Hoseok motions back towards them, where they work diligently behind the front desk as they wait for the next guests to arrive. Seokjin, thinking you aren’t looking, steps back from his computer for just a moment to take some breaths, catch some air. He stretches, arms above his head as his shirt is pulled out from where it’s tucked into his pants. Even from here, you can see the toned lines of his torso, his healthy, slim figure. 

Something about him is so familiar. Maybe you met him in a past life. 

“I think you’ll be fine, Y/N,” he promises, bright white smile gazing back at you, happy as always. “You don’t have anything to worry about. They all look like they know what they’re doing. Especially that Seokjin guy.”

Being here wasn’t your first choice. It wasn’t even your second. But you have people that you can’t let down, and responsibilities to uphold. Besides, you don’t think it’ll be that bad. At least, not with someone like Seokjin around. Perhaps there is always a silver lining. 

“Yeah,” you repeat again, exhaling. Hoseok turns to look at you, fondness lacing his features, and you smile to yourself. “I know.”

Very seldom are you shouted at by people that your family has employed. The fear of being fired due to disagreeing with your boss is enough to keep many people quiet. Submissive, even. 

But not Hoseok. 

“What is with these eye bags, Y/N?” He exclaims at you, exasperated as he picks up the color-correcting pot from his kit and turns around to face you. “I thought we agreed on eight hours of sleep per night. Getting less than that is a death sentence!”

“I’m fine, Hoseok,” you insist, even though the bags underneath your eyes are deeper than the Grand Canyon. You, admittedly, have not been sleeping as much as Hoseok has insisted upon. 

“No, you’re not, look at you! Earlier today you shoved your toothbrush into your ear when I called you while you were about to start brushing your teeth,” Hoseok reminds you, an embarrassing moment in your life that you would prefer to keep just between the two of you. Sometimes you just mix up what’s in your hands. It happens. 

You frown. “I thought we agreed not to mention that.”

“Your skin is looking dry, too,” Hoseok says, dabbing on the product underneath your eyes. “These are all signs that your body isn’t doing well.”

“Okay, Dr. Jung,” you say with a roll of your eyes, making Hoseok scowl playfully at you. “But I’m fine. I’m just working a little bit harder right now. That’s all.”

“That’s what you always say,” Hoseok points out, unimpressed with your measly excuse. “Every time I talk to you about how you aren’t taking care of yourself, you always go, ‘It’s because of work, I’m fine,’ or ‘Don’t worry about me, I just have a lot to do right now.’ It’s not healthy.”

“I don’t sound like that!” You object, offended at his mocking high-pitched impression of you. You don’t sound like Hoseok on helium. You refuse to accept that. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Hoseok says, shrugging you off as he pulls out the concealer. “I’m serious, Y/N. You work yourself way too hard. This event is supposed to be a fun business gala and you’re probably going to spend the whole time checking your email.”

“I will not!” You will.

Hoseok frowns, seeing right through you. One of the many benefits of being your personal assistant is the fact that he can read you like a children’s book. He also knows that he can say whatever he wants to you without fear of getting fired—not that he cares about that, either, because he’s probably got enough money in his bank account to put three kids through college. If he ever wanted to have kids, that is. So this is how conversations like these usually go. 

“If I didn’t like your live text updates on the stupid things people wear to these things so much, I would make you leave your phone at home,” Hoseok tells you. “You really do need to take time for yourself.”

“I do take time for myself,” you rebuke with a pout, thinking about how you’ve started waking up five minutes later so you have more time to sleep in. It means that you don’t get to read the morning news like you used to, but sometimes putting off politics until after you’ve had coffee is a good thing. 

“A once-a-month ten-minute bath while you put on a rose face mask doesn’t count,” Hoseok tells you pointedly. “You need to be incorporating this sort of thing into your everyday life. By taking time off. All you ever do is work.”

“It’s not my fault,” you huff, closing your eyes so Hoseok can do some eyeshadow. “I have a whole hotel to oversee after my dad assigned it to me. There’s a lot that I have to manage. Plus, my mom is making me go on these stupid blind dates with their associates’ snobby sons who still think that the pay gap isn’t real.”

Hoseok tuts to himself, shaking his head as he brushes color onto your eyelids. “Your parents have such bad taste in men for you.”

“I know!” 

“This is even further proof that you need to relax more,” Hoseok says economically, brain immediately connecting your predicament to his agenda to get you to take more time off, as always. “Because men stress you out.”

“Just them, but yes,” you correct.

“What do you mean ‘Just them’? Is there someone you’re interested in that doesn’t stress you out?” Hoseok demands, tapping your cheek to get you to open your eyes. You do and the first thing you see is Hoseok’s face, two inches from yours, staring at you as he waits for an answer.

You sigh. You might as well tell him about the mystery man. Clearly, you underestimated his power, because it’s been a week and you’re still thinking about him. “Yes, but—”

“‘Yes’?” Hoseok asks, shocked. “What the fuck, when did you meet him? What does he look like? What’s his name? Job? Is he rich?”

“At my birthday party,” you say. You can picture the scene perfectly in your mind. The balcony, the stars, the mask. The feeling of his hands on your waist, his lips on yours. They’ve been etched into your brain. “We talked on the balcony for a little while and then we kissed.”

“You what?”

“Don’t overreact, it’s not that big of a deal,” you order. The mere recollection of it is already making your body restless and your cheeks burn.

“What do you mean? It’s a huge deal!”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” you interrupt, sighing to yourself, “because he ran off at midnight Cinderella-style and I don’t know his name, or his job, or even what he really looks like because he was wearing a mask the whole time.”

Hoseok stops dead in his tracks, the loose power leaving a puff of smoke in between the two of you as his words sink in. Yeah. That’s how you feel too. You finally develop an interest in somebody after years of going it solo and you don’t know a damn thing about him. Other than the fact that he is a fantastic kisser. Which is not an appropriate identifier. You suppose that you could use the mask, but you don’t even know half of the people your mother invited. How are you supposed to narrow down who was wearing a black mask and who wasn’t?

The fact is that unless a miracle happens, you don’t have any way of figuring out who that man is. Yet another thing that you have to dwell on while you worry about everything else going on in your life. 

Hoseok sits on his words for a few more moments, trying to figure out the right thing to say. Eventually, he settles on, “Damn. That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“Can you do anything to find him?”

You shake your head, resigning yourself to a life where the mystery man will forever remain a mystery. “No. I don’t even know who was on the guest list.”

“What if you ask Jungkook?” Hoseok poses. “Maybe he knows him.”

“Jungkook does not need to know about my barely-there love life,” you say with a self-deprecating chuckle. You and your brother typically keep your conversations far away from that realm of topics, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Jungkook is rather flush with admirers. Many of whom have gotten to know him a little bit… closer. “It’s no big deal, ‘Seok. I’m not really desperate to find love. I just need to focus on work, right now.”

“I wish you wouldn’t work yourself so hard, Y/N,” Hoseok says with a melancholic smile, knowing that no matter what he tells you, you’ll always be too determined for your own good. At least he tries. 

You purse your lips in understanding. Hoseok just wants what’s best for you, but what’s best for you right now is being ready for your father’s impending retirement. “There’s just too much that I have to do.”

“At least you’ll have help with the resort,” Hoseok offers, always looking on the bright side. “That Seokjin fellow seems like he really knows what he’s doing.”

You think back to your visits to the resort. Your longest stay was the first day you arrived, but you’ve been making frequent trips back to check in. And every time you arrive, Seokjin is waiting dutifully for your next orders, always getting your completed requests back to you on time, formatted perfectly. He listens to your every word and asks the right questions. He knows exactly what to do and he has no problems admitting when he doesn’t. He’s even started bringing you the occasional coffee.

He’s also terribly handsome, but you try to think about other things when you look at him. 

Hoseok’s right. At least you have Seokjin. His impeccable work ethic is half the reason you aren’t wearing yourself thin worrying about the resort. He was definitely meant to be a hotelier. 

“I guess you’re right.” You nod, letting Hoseok brush a deep maroon lipstick onto you as he finishes up with your makeup. “It could be worse.”

Hoseok mumbles in agreement, stepping back. “Let me look at you.”

You stand up, gown, heels, makeup, and all, letting Hoseok gaze at you to make sure that everything is flawless. You’ve never liked the events you have to attend, but getting dressed up is always something you rather enjoy. Especially when Hoseok is the one doing it. 

The dress drapes down your figure perfectly, hugging your sides as it gathers on the floor, leaving just enough space for the tips of your heels to peek out. Your necklace hangs low on your torso and your earrings dangle, soft golden strings with gems at the base. Your eyes sparkle with the help of the glitter that Hoseok has added, touches of shimmer on the high points of your face. You look into the mirror and for once, you feel satisfied.

“Wow,” Hoseok says, proud and beaming. “Look at you.”

There you are. 

Days at the resort hotel pass by faster now. 

Granted, no work day could ever top the speed at which the days passed when you were younger, playing outside with friends or running around in the yard during recess. But being here isn’t as terrible as you had first made it out to be. At least you don’t have your father constantly looking over your shoulder, even if he does call you every day to ask for updates. And at least the people here have integrity, more so than any of the usual executives you work with up in the central building in town. The people here aren’t brown-nosing you every minute of every day. 

And yes, getting to see Seokjin every day is also rather enjoyable. From a professional perspective. 

Hoseok says you need to take more time for yourself and relax more but quite frankly, being at the resort hotel is a vacation. It’s a respite from the hustle-and-bustle culture that your father has cultivated in his office building. It’s a break from the neverending business deals, the meetings, the agreements and bargains and contracts. And most importantly, it’s something that you can do without your father’s help. 

For once, it almost feels like a little taste of freedom. 

Of course, Hoseok would also tease you terribly about the fact that you consider overseeing a resort hotel a break, as opposed to an actual holiday where you take real time off. But he must know that that’s never going to happen. At least, not anytime soon. 

You hadn’t realized your father’s retirement was so close. The years pass by in a blur but you have always thought that your father has much too much to finish, tasks and projects, and events that will take another few years to come to fruition. Too many loose ends that he needs to tie up, deals he must close and finances he must track. You’ve been groomed to take over for him since you were young, even before you graduated, but retirement has always felt like a distant future. 

Not an imminent happening. 

Jungkook hadn’t even sounded surprised when you told him that you would be overseeing the new resort. 

You wonder if you’re the only one in your family who hadn’t expected your father to be planning his retirement so soon. The money and savings isn’t an issue—he will continue to invest long after he leaves his office—but the time is. Perhaps he has finished more than you thought he would. Accomplished more goals than you expected he’d do. 

Or perhaps, you just grew up too quickly. 

Time has always gone by much too fast for your liking. When you were little, when you were in school, when you graduated. You closed your eyes and suddenly all of your youth had whizzed by. You woke up and suddenly you were in and out of four years of college and two years of a Master’s in business. You blinked and suddenly you are about to inherit a company you thought you never would. 

The fear of everything ending is enough to keep you away. Away from that skyscraper in the center of the city, where your father’s office sits at the top floor, where he works nonstop to make sure that everything is ready for your arrival. Away from a future you thought you could avoid, until it reached you. 

Having this resort hotel, a brand new building in the beachy part of town, with efficient, competent staff and a gorgeous view, is enough to make you want to live in the past forever. 

Your phone screen lights up with your father’s contact for the third time today, the green ‘answer’ button and the red ‘decline’ button waiting patiently for your decision. Staring down at it, you frown. You normally aren’t one to purposely miss your father’s calls, but today is the day that the deal with the Ohs is finalized, something that you have zero desire to celebrate. 

After a few more moments, your phone stops vibrating in your hand, the screen going back. You roll your eyes and stuff it into the pocket of your pants, not wanting to wait for it to light up once more. You have a feeling that your mother will be phoning shortly to berate you for not answering your father’s calls, a call that you have every intention of ignoring just like the previous ones. You aren’t sure how to make clearer the fact that you think the deal is a bad idea. A terrible one, even. Mostly because the Ohs are horrible people.

Still, you cannot resist pulling your phone out when you feel it buzz against your side.

[Today, 12:27PM]

Jungkook: dude dad’s flipping out because you aren’t answering his calls

Ugh. Not Jungkook, too.

You: Tell him that I will congratulate him on the deal in person later. You: I’m busy right now.

Jungkook: he’s calling just to check in on the resort

You: I give him weekly updates and forward him any pressing news. He’ll manage.

Jungkook: just call him or mom’s gonna call you

You: Tell her that I will congratulate him on the deal in person. You: Later.

Jungkook: are you gonna be like this until dad retires?

You: Like what?

Jungkook: -_- Jungkook: don’t play stupid Jungkook: you’re being stubborn and you know it.

You: Dad already knows that I didn’t approve of him going through with the deal. I don’t imagine he’s expecting a party from me.

Jungkook: you can’t keep ignoring him just because you didn’t approve of one thing Jungkook: how is that professional???? Jungkook: you’re inheriting the business soon Y/N Jungkook: you need to start acting like it

You: Don’t tell me how to act when you aren’t the one busting your ass trying to make sure the business is ready for when he retires. You: You have your own life to lead and your own things to do. It’s not your place.

Jungkook: as a businessman, it isn’t Jungkook: as your brother, it is

You scowl at your screen. The brother card. Jungkook pulls it whenever he and you both know that you’re being unreasonable, and the worst part is that it always works. It always works because Jungkook only ever wants the best for you, wants to see you succeed as a businesswoman, as a future CEO, and as his sister. And who are you to deny him such a simple pleasure?

You: I just have a lot on my plate right now. Dad and I can talk later.

Jungkook: yknow Jungkook: like, occupationally, you are more than ready to inherit the company and you know it. Jungkook: you work so hard 24/7 and you never take breaks, you know exactly what you’re doing and you can command a room better than anyone i’ve ever met Jungkook: but Jungkook: oh idk

You: What?

An impromptu psychoanalysis from your wise-beyond-years younger brother is certainly not something you had been expecting today. But Jungkook always has and always will know you better than anyone else, something that is both a blessing and a curse.

Jungkook: you are so fucking ready to inherit the business Jungkook: i just wish you would realize it

Silence. You pause, watching the three dots appear and disappear over and over again, Jungkook typing and deleting what next he wants to say. Chuckling to yourself, you read his message over and over again. 

What’s Jungkook on about? Doesn’t he know what you do? The position you have? Just because you’ll eventually take over the business doesn’t mean you’re ready for it. Isn’t Jungkook aware of how much work you have to do? About how your father assigned you this resort hotel as punishment for disagreeing with him? 

You aren’t ready. 

You’re barely halfway. 

You: Yeah, right.

Jungkook: i’m serious Y/N Jungkook: can’t you see how prepared you are

You: I still have lots to do, Jungkook. Just because I’ve been given more responsibility doesn’t suddenly mean Dad’s going to retire tomorrow and that I’m ready to take over.

Jungkook: that’s not what i meant and you know it

You: I don’t feel like talking about this anymore. Tell Dad that I’ll talk to him about the deal later. 

Jungkook: … Jungkook: fine Jungkook: but don’t say i didn’t try to tell you

You angrily switch your phone off, fuming at the fact that the deal’s gone through, fuming at how Jungkook thinks that suddenly because you were given a resort hotel to oversee it means that you’re ready to take over from your father, and fuming at how, above all, there’s a part of you and a part of Jungkook that both know that he is, as usual, right. 

There’s a knock on the door to your makeshift office at the hotel and you lose it. 

“What?” 

You look up just in time to see Seokjin jump slightly at your shout, coffee sloshing around in the cups in his hand. Ah. You hadn’t meant to scare him like that. 

Exhaling, you rub at your temples as you set your phone down on the desk, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, Seokjin. I didn’t mean to snap at you. Please, come in.”

“Coffee?” He offers, a small smile on his face as he holds it out.

“You are a lifesaver,” you declare, taking the cup from him happily and having a sip. Perfectly scalding. Seokjin waits patiently behind your desk until you’re finished, swaying slightly. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh, no,” he says, shaking his head. “Just thought that I’d let you know that I’ve just got more files on the finances.”

“Oh, excellent,” you declare happily, accepting the small manila folder from underneath Seokjin’s arm. You open it just to browse, and everything seems to be in order. An easy thing to file away for future reference if necessary. And there’s no doubt in your mind that Seokjin’s already faxed you an electronic copy as well. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Seokjin nods. He turns to leave but seems to linger, noticing the tension in your shoulders and the irritation on your face, the way you drink up the boiling coffee like it’s nothing, relishing in the burn down your throat. He almost stops himself, opening his mouth slightly and then closing it, but then he just sighs, and he asks, “Are you alright?”

You sputter out the coffee all over the manila folder in front of you. “I’m sorry,” you say over coughs, the beverage going down the wrong pipe in all of the chaos. “What—what did you say?”

“You just seem more stressed than usual, is all,” Seokjin says, rocking back and forth on his feet with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his ink black slacks. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve been snappy recently,” you say, admitting it. “There’s just a lot I’m dealing with right now. Mostly to do with work.”

“I hope I’m helping, then?” He says hopefully, a hesitant grin on his face. 

You nod in agreement. Without him, you definitely wouldn’t be sleeping half as much as you do now (which is apparently still not enough, according to Hoseok). At least Seokjin’s there. “You definitely are. I don’t think I’d have made it without you,” you chuckle. 

Seokjin smiles. “If you need me to do more, I’d be happy to. Just ask.”

“Thank you, Seokjin. I really appreciate that,” you tell him. In the short time you’ve known him, Seokjin’s kindness has outshone even his stellar work ethic, a trait that you’ve come to admire in him, mostly because you know you can only dream of being as generous as he. “It means a lot.”

“Anytime,” he says, and he means it, too. “I’ll always be here for you.”

And standing here, in your makeshift office, with a matching cup of coffee in his hand, and a gorgeous, toothy smile on his face, you know that he means that, too. 

Sometimes, you can’t even believe a man like Seokjin exists. He’s practically flawless.

“I will bear that in mind,” you promise. “You really are a wonderful person, Seokjin. Really.”

Seokjin grins, the compliment going straight to him, blushing furiously as he exits your office, waving a tiny goodbye on his way out. You return it, watching fondly as he nearly crashes into the door frame, hand slamming onto it before he realizes. He laughs at his clumsiness and even from here you can see his cheeks get redder, heating up like the coffee in his hand. 

Work is hard. Being the unprepared heir to an enormous conglomerate even harder. But Seokjin’s right. 

At least you’ll always have him. 

You’ve never been one to develop friendships with your employees, but there is something about Seokjin that’s different. Something about him that makes him a confidant first and a hotelier second. Something about him that pulls you in, an electric, magnetic touch. 

You feel like you’ve known him longer than you feel. Feel like you’re closer than you really are. 

Some people are just like that, you suppose. Some people just make you wish that you had known them forever.

Quite frankly, you don’t think you could name a single thing wrong about Seokjin even if you tried. He gets your coffee order perfect (not that it’s hard, it’s just that you’ve never told him what it is), he does all of his work before you’ve even asked, and he runs the damn resort hotel better than you do. He’s obviously a people-person and can make others laugh without trying. He’s even figured out how to compliment you, a trait that not even grown businessmen have learned.

The days pass in a blur, made quicker by the ease of working with him. Of being around him. Seokjin lifts up your spirit and he doesn’t even have to try. His competence in the workplace is enough to have you coming by the resort daily instead of weekly, hourly instead of daily, just so you can spend time in a place that, for once, makes you feel relaxed. 

Hoseok would say that Seokjin is a miracle-worker. 

You would say that he’s just brilliant.

Honestly, sometimes you think that even Seokjin is more well-equipped to run your family’s business than you are. And you’re the heiress. 

The differences between Seokjin and all other men you’ve had the displeasure of interacting with (besides Jungkook, because he’s your brother, and Hoseok, because he’s the best) become abundantly clear after your second mother-mandated blind date. 

The first one that you went on a couple of weeks ago was alright. He wasn’t an asshole, but also he had the same amount of flavor as the plain white bread that you were served prior to the meal. But no points is better than negative points, right?

You mentioned to your mother that you probably wouldn’t be interested in a second date with him. She didn’t sound surprised. 

Unfortunately for you, your second blind date was not nearly as uneventful. 

The good part about your date was that it was a brunch arrangement, which is unabashedly your favorite meal of the day and also saves you the trouble of having to get all dressed up for a fancy dinner in the center of the city. But that is where the good parts end. 

You don’t know what your parents were thinking, setting you up with a man like Sangmin. Every single thing that you have ever complained to them about a man, Sangmin either did or was. The first red flag was how he showed up to your brunch meeting wearing a navy blue suit. It didn’t get any better from there. 

You know that your parents just want you to find someone and settle down, someone who can take the weight off of your shoulders and get you to stop working so hard, someone who will make you happy and who can keep you comfortable, someone who is something that you genuinely will want to spend time with, but you can’t explain why, with this knowledge of your preferences and dislikes, they still send you on dates with men like Sangmin. 

Men who boast about their money with every chance they get, checking the time just so they can flash their Rolex watch even though their phone is right there, telling you how many fancy cars they own that deserve a woman like you in the passenger seat. Men who try to explain economic practices that your family pioneered to you. Men whose eyes flash with dollar signs when they hear that you’re going to be inheriting your family’s company. 

Your parents want you to find someone who can take the weight off of your shoulders and keep you comfortable? They should let you pick. 

At one in the afternoon and not a moment later, you storm into your office, flinging your bag onto your chair as you groan aloud, staring out the window and fighting the urge to punch right through the Plexiglass. There’s no word for the way you’re feeling, the unintelligible growl that you let out. You just aren’t having a very good day. 

Your desire to interact with men is at an all time low, and yet, you can’t help but turn around when you hear his voice. 

“Knock, knock,” Seokjin says from the doorway, two cups of steaming coffee in his hand. He strolls up happily to you, placing the plastic cup in your outstretched hand. “How’d it go?”

“Bad,” you spit, not wanting to say anything else.

“Oh, no, really?” Seokjin asks, genuinely disappointed. At least someone was rooting for you. You don’t even think you had been rooting for yourself. “Worse than the first guy?”

“Say the first guy was just… slightly stale white bread, okay?” You begin to explain, because Seokjin doesn’t need the details and you don’t need to relive the experience. “Then this guy would be… how would you put it—?”

“Really stale white bread?” Seokjin offers.

“A rotten egg mayonnaise sandwich that’s been sitting in a dumpster for two weeks,” you correct. 

Seokjin winces. A perfect reaction, as always. 

“It was just bad. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” You decide once and for all, moving to your desk and slamming the coffee cup onto the wood. It sloshes over the edge and splashes around the side, leaving behind a ring that you know you’ll have to clean up later.

Seokjin goes to stand by the window, looking out into the back gardens of the resort, all tropical red flowers and vibrant green leaves. “You have a third one, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you groan, the mere thought sending shivers down your spine. And not the good kind. The fact that the dates aren’t even over yet is enough to send you into a tailspin. “God, my parents are just desperate, at this point.”

“Why?” He asks, turning to face you, brown eyes wide and curious. “Are they worried about something?”

“Ugh,” you begin, on the verge of slamming your head onto the mahogany. The problem isn’t that your parents are worried you won’t find someone. It’s that your parents think that it’s their job to find someone for you. “I think they’re scared that I’m never going to marry, or that I work myself too hard and need someone to spend time with to calm down. I don’t understand. Even if I were to never marry, that’s not a bad thing. I can do what I want. I’m perfectly capable of running my family’s group without someone else.”

“Do you not want to get married?” Seokjin asks. The reason, you realize, that Seokjin is so refreshing, a respite from the rest of the executives that constantly surround you, is because he doesn’t expect anything of you. He doesn’t assume that you’ll eventually marry and become disparaging when you suggest otherwise. He doesn’t assume that you constantly need guidance on official matters that you alone have been tasked to handle. He doesn’t assume that you aren’t capable. 

(He did assume your preferred coffee order. And he is an excellent judge.) 

“I mean,” you begin, rubbing at your temples in a desperate attempt to relieve your body of the stress that sits upon it, “I suppose that eventually, it would be nice. But I’m in no rush if I haven’t met the right person, you know? Like, I’m not going to force myself to if the time isn’t right. There’s no deadline to get married.”

Seokjin nods in agreement, mouth shut. One of your favorite things about Seokjin is how, whenever you begin to speak, he begins to listen. 

“My parents are just putting all of this pressure on me to get married because they think that I’ll need someone’s help when I take over after my father retires. Or they just think that I’m sad and lonely. Which, maybe they’re right about the second part, but I just hate how they’re putting all of this pressure on me to go on dates and get married and work hard when there isn’t even a timeline for me to take over yet. I don’t even have real confirmation that my father is planning on retiring anytime soon. I just—ugh!” There really is no better way to put it than to just shriek and throw your hands up in the air. You sigh, dragging your hand down the side of your face. “Do you ever wish that you could just… I don’t know. Disappear?”

Seokjin’s eyes widen when he hears your words, like they’ve set something off in his brain. Even sitting on your tongue, they feel familiar to you. Where have you heard those before?

He seems to wait for another few moments, contemplating what he’s next going to say, like if he just opens his mouth and lets the words flow out he’ll say something wrong. Little does Seokjin know, in your eyes, nothing he could ever say would be wrong to you. 

“You aren’t sad and lonely,” he begins, a nice, comforting pep talk even though you sort of are both sad and lonely. You work nonstop and have three friends, two of which are employed by your family, the other one being your brother. “And you don’t need to rush into getting married if you don’t feel like it, no matter what your parents say. I mean, at least I think you don’t. You’re obviously much more focused on your career and how you want to succeed in the future, and that’s good. It’s something that means a lot to you.”

He takes a few steps towards you, setting his coffee cup on your desk. You look up to him from where you’re sitting in your office chair, letting his words carve themselves deep into your heart, rest within your soul. 

Sometimes, you don’t realize you’ve gotten yourself down until someone is trying to pick you back up. 

“You do have control over your life,” he tells you, and for once in your life you actually feel yourself believing it. “What you are doing, what you have been doing, is right. Things will come with time. You’ll learn and grow more as you keep living. And even if you aren’t looking for them right now—” he says, eyes wide and knowing and promising, looking at you so desperately because God, he just wants you to listen to him. To let his words mean something. “—there is someone out there who will love you.”

The sound of his voice dissipates into the air, sinking into the floor, dust after a storm. 

“You really think so?” You ask, hopeful. You never believed in soulmates but you have always believed in love. Believed that when the feeling was right, you would know. 

(That kiss still lingers in your mind, like morning dew after a rainy night. Like frost settling over the grass. Is it possible that you can feel like that again?)

Seokjin nods, firm and true. He does think that. He does. “I do,” he says. “I really do.”

The third date is forgettable. 

Or perhaps Seokjin has just enchanted you. So much so that your brain doesn’t even choose to remember interactions with other men. They just aren’t as memorable. 

You finish up this round of parent-mandated rich boy blind dates and get back to work, knowing that you might as well make the most of your now-unoccupied time before your mother decides once again that it’s time for you to go on dates again with men you have no interest in. Work, unlike so many other things in your life, will always be a constant. For better or for worse. 

Today, it’s barely even dawn before you arrive at the hotel. In recent days, the resort has become your hub for all of your work, even the work that doesn’t have anything to do with it. There’s just something calming about being here. Something that makes you feel more productive. That makes you want to work more. 

You slide into your office with ease, coffee in one hand and messenger bag in the other, surprisingly awake considering the sun is hardly over the horizon, soft orange rays peeking out from between the trees and skyscrapers. You don’t imagine there’s a lot of tasks of immediate priority waiting for you on your desk, but there’s always other work to be done. Administrative orders, emails to send, requests to be made. Even here, there’s no shortage of items on your never-ending to-do list. 

Seokjin’s not due to clock in for another several hours, at least. But he works long days and longer nights, and he deserves at least the morning off. He should at least be afforded that small luxury. 

Sitting down in your office chair, you pull yourself into the desk, elbows resting on the hardwood, head in your palms. The smell of coffee wafts through the air, thick and potent, waking up your nerves, one by one, sending small waves through your brain. You close your eyes, almost drifting back to sleep, sighing happily. 

Today feels like a good day. 

The hours pass quickly when you’re here, the sun rising slowly in the sky as it always does, day in and day out. You rely on it as much as it relies on you, wakes up this little corner of the world, says hello to the people stepping out of their doors and onto the street. No matter what, you know that the sun will always be there to greet you when you wake and say goodbye before you sleep. Within thirty minutes your coffee is finished, within the hour your emails are answered. 

One by one, you check the tasks off your list, responding to a phone call or two, forwarding some files to your father, rejecting a business proposal and requesting changes to another. You don’t even notice the minutes blowing past you until the sun is high in the sky, and the clock is chiming twelve. Noon, already?

“Knock knock,” a voice from the doorway calls. 

You feel your body relax when you see Seokjin standing there, peeking his head into your office like he always does. He looks much more casual today, a sweater vest over a button-down shirt, looser beige pants in place of his usual tailored slacks, hair sitting in a tousled mess atop his head, forehead peeking through the strands that hang low over his face, brushing his eyelashes. Instinctively, you glance down to your usual pantsuit attire. Did you miss a memo?

“What, no coffee for me today?” You tease, an eyebrow raised as Seokjin enters, coffee cup-less.

“Not today, sorry,” he says with a guilty smile. “I thought that maybe we could get something else to eat.”

“Oh!” You exclaim happily. “Sure, we can order some delivery. What are you feeling? Sushi? A burger? Oh, I know this wonderful brunch place that’s just a few blocks away—”

Seokjin laughs, a hand reaching out to push your phone done. The mere sensation of his fingertips upon your skin are enough to have you looking back up at him, shellshocked, heart frozen in place. “I was thinking something a little different.”

“Like what?” There are plenty of options for the two of you to pick from.

“How about you and I take a break this afternoon?” He asks, eyes wide with ambition. 

You frown, nose scrunched up at the notion. “A break? You mean… leave?”

Seokjin nods. Oh, so you did hear him correctly. “You’re always working so hard. You should take some time off.”

“Ugh,” you respond, rolling your eyes, having had this conversation thousands of times before. “You sound like Hoseok.”

“Hoseok’s right, Miss Y/N,” Seokjin points out, much to your chagrin. “You’ve been working so much lately. Just a little break, alright? We can get out of here and do something fun.”

“Nice try, Seokjin,” you say with a scoff, turning back to the work in front of you. “Maybe some other time.” Which means never, so long as you can help it. 

“Oh, come on,” Seokjin says, a pleading lilt to his voice. He’s beginning to pout in front of you, lower lip turned outwards. “Just a couple of hours, please? We can go into the city and walk around for a little bit. Eat some food in the park, or something.”

You look up to him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. That does sound good… but you have work to do, items to cross off your list. This hotel isn’t going to manage itself, and neither is your life. “A couple of hours?” You clarify, interest piqued. 

“Just a couple,” Seokjin promises, fighting off the grin that’s etching its way across his face. “Please?”

You sigh. 

Twenty minutes and a Lyft ride later, you and Seokjin are standing in the middle of the city, along the streets known for their high-class fashion boutiques and expensive restaurants with afternoon tea. There’s a park a couple of blocks to the north. It’s a part of the city that you rarely get to spend time in, usually trapped in the business skyscraper sector a ten-minute subway ride away, but for that reason alone, it feels brand new. 

Seokjin buys you both a cup of expensive coffee despite your objections, and the two of you walk along the sidewalks side by side, sipping from your paper cups with plastic lids, letting the warmth wash down your throats. 

It’s nice, being out here. Away from anything that reminds you of work. With someone you’ve wanted to spend more time with for a while, now. 

Out here, you can almost pretend. Pretend that you aren’t the heiress to a major global conglomerate, pretend that you aren’t being groomed to marry up, pretend that life is just a little more normal. 

Out here, you can almost pretend that you and Seokjin are more than just friends. 

“Oh my God, Y/N, look at this shirt!” Seokjin gasps, stopping in his tracks in front of the window of one of the most expensive luxury boutiques you can name. You’re pretty sure that Jungkook shops here sometimes. 

The shirt in question is a satin white button-down with hand-stitched birds decorating the fabric, wispy little designs that seem to be fluttering off of the material itself. It stands front and center in the window, a masterpiece meant to have people stopping in the streets just to gaze up at it in awe. It’s doing its job rather well. 

“You wanna try it on?” You offer, motioning towards the door of the shop, a sleek, black one with metallic silver accents. 

“What?” He asks, turning to you with an eyebrow raised. 

You smile, pointing up at the shirt, eyes tracing the drape of the fabric. “Come on, just for fun.”

It doesn’t take much more convincing to have Seokjin marching up to the door and pulling it open, giddy like a child walking into a toy store. He spots what he’s looking for immediately, a single shirt on a silver rack, hanging from a simple wire hanger. Other than the one on the mannequin in the window, there seems to be no other option. 

“It even feels expensive,” Seokjin sighs happily, hand brushing over the satin fabric. He holds it out to you, and it’s so light and pliable that you can barely feel your fingertips touching the material. 

“There’s the fitting room,” you say, pointing to the back corner, black velvet held up by a rod, muted gray paint lining the walls. Seokjin grins excitedly at you before rushing off, disappearing behind the curtain with a flourish. 

Instinctively, your eyes trace the interior, jumping from the hangings on the walls to the decorative shelves, the pastel cashmere sweaters and shiny leather loafers, the silken white button downs and navy striped ties. Every item in this room practically screams Seokjin’s name, and even when he isn’t in front of you can you picture him wearing each piece, picture him in an oversized light pink sweater or a sleek white suit. 

It’s weird. You’ve never been able to imagine things like that. Not even on you. 

The clothes in here are some of the most gorgeous garments you’ve ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on and yet there is something else in this room that outshines them all. 

“Ready?”

You turn back to the fitting room, watch as the curtain shifts slightly. “Ready,” you say.

A hand comes out to push the curtain to the side, satin sleeves covering his wrist, but not even that glimpse of skin could really prepare you for the sight before your eyes. 

Seokjin steps out of the fitting room and you almost gasp aloud at the sight. 

The funny part is that he isn’t wearing anything else designed to complete the look. His hair is loose and floppy, like he had brushed through it with his fingers once or twice before deciding it was good enough. His pants are a roomy beige, hardly even complimenting the monochromatic shirt, white with black accents. He’s wearing sneakers. 

And yet, he looks stunning. 

Standing in front of you, Seokjin looks like the kind of person that your parents would want to set you up with. Rich, well-dressed (not that he isn’t already), powerful, educated. But he looks like more than that, too. He looks like someone straight out of a painting, like a sculpture that belongs in a museum. He stands tall and mighty, the hero after defeating a villain, the love interest in an old-timey film. 

God, he looks amazing. Looks like he belongs in those clothes, belongs in this store. Belongs in the kind of life that the usual clientele of this store live in. Something about him is just so familiar. Like he has always fit into the crowd that your parents want you to associate with. Like you’ve seen him before, once upon a dream. 

“So,” he says, interrupting your thoughts with a smug smile. “How do I look?”

He must already know the answer to that. 

You’re speechless. “I—Wow, Seokjin. You look great.”

A hand comes up to rub at the nape of his neck. “You think so?”

“I know so,” you correct. “It fits you perfectly.”

The fabric shapes his shoulders but drapes over the rest of his torso, including his ridiculously small waist. It both hangs loosely and hugs all of the right places. Your family regularly gets clothing tailored and yet you still don’t think you’ve ever seen any item of clothing fitting someone as well as this one does him. It’s as if the damn thing was made for him. 

“It feels like I’m wearing a cloud and a blanket all at once,” he says dreamily, relishing in the feeling. “If only the price tag made me feel this way too.”

“How much is it?” 

Seokjin holds out the sleeve to which the tag is attached for you to inspect, and the moment you see a comma in the cost, you understand why. No wonder Jungkook’s fine with shopping here. To your family, that amount is pocket change.

“But you really like it, don’t you?” You ask, looking back up at him, closer now. Seokjin nods, lips pressed together in a thin line, wanting something that he knows he can’t have. You know that feeling, too. 

“I would get it if I didn’t mind taking out a loan for it,” he jokes, admiring the detail at the cuffs, the way it cinches in towards his wrist. 

“Then let me buy it for you,” you say before thinking twice, because you have more money than you realistically know what to do with and Seokjin deserves it. He looks gorgeous in it and more importantly, he feels gorgeous in it. He emerged from the fitting room and it was almost like there was this white glow surrounding him, this fluorescent halo that made it seem like the shirt was melting into his body. 

Seokjin’s eyes widen. “What? No, I can’t let you.”

“Please?” You plead, eyes gazing up to him. “You deserve it. Plus, you look amazing.”

“It’s so much money,” Seokjin reminds you, shaking his head. “I can’t. No.”

“Seokjin, do you even know who I am? I can afford it, don’t worry,” you assure him, already pulling him towards the register, his old sweater vest and button down still hanging on the rack inside the fitting room. 

“No, I can’t let you. It might not be a lot of money to you, but it is to me,” insists Seokjin, refusing to back down. 

You roll your eyes, figuring out the game that he’s playing. “Then consider it a thank you. For all of the things that you do for me. The least of which is bringing me coffee every day.”

“That’s just my job, Y/N—” He reaches out a hand to stop you from getting out your wallet, his enormous palm cupping yours as you stare at him, fighting over the shirt like two friends with a restaurant bill.

“No,” you tell Seokjin, because his job is to be a hotelier but he became a friend instead. And he didn’t do it just because he was told to. “You deserve it,” you say, placing your free hand on top of his. It makes him look at you, eyes glossy and big and beautiful. “You really do, Seokjin. This is the least I can do to say thank you for being there for me.”

“Ma’am?” 

The lady behind the counter catches you both off guard. “Will you be buying this shirt?”

Seokjin looks down at you in disbelief, almost like he doesn’t expect you to say yes. Like he doesn’t think he’s worthy of a shirt with such a high price tag.

But little does Seokjin know, if you could buy the whole universe for him, you would do it in a heartbeat. 

You walk out of the boutique with a light heart and a lighter credit card, with Seokjin by your side and his old clothes in a cardstock bag with ribbons for handles. Even if he had resisted at first, you’re happy that he caved. He looks stupidly handsome. You’re actually somewhat regretting agreeing that he should wear the shirt out instead. 

A block away from the park is a little macaron store with more available flavors than you can count on both of your hands and toes. Feeling insatiable, you buy a box of twenty-four and decide on the spot that you won’t be leaving the center of the city without having finished them all. The mere scent of the shop as you walked in was enough to send you into a tizzy. 

Seokjin scopes out an open spot on the grass, in the shade of a big Japanese maple tree, and the two of you immediately settle down in the park, the blades tickling your ankles as you set the box of macarons in between the two of you and get to work filling your stomachs. 

“All of my friends are going to think that you’re like, my sugar mommy for buying me this,” Seokjin says, taking a bite out of the lavender one. 

“If you’re really that embarrassed, you could always say that I just gave you a raise,” you offer, peering over into the box to pick your poison. The problem is that you just want to shove all twenty-three into your mouth. 

“No way,” says Seokjin over a mouthful of macaron. “A sugar mommy is way more exciting. I’m just lucky I have a boss with a bank account.”

“Well, unlike all of the other men that my parents have sent me on dates with, you actually deserve to have someone treat you once in a while,” you say happily, eventually deciding on a lemon flavored macaron and popping the entire thing into your mouth. “I’ve met very few men who are as charming as you, Seokjin. Charming and kind.”

“‘Very few’?” Seokjin repeats, interest piqued. “Who dares upstage me?”

You laugh at his brazenness, his attractive confidence. “Oh, no one,” you say with a shrug of your hand. “There was this one guy I met at my birthday party, but I didn’t even catch his name.”

“Too busy mingling to ask?” Seokjin teases, looking sufficiently less confident than he did ten seconds ago. Like someone you had just said caught him off guard. 

“Yes, actually. And you don’t really need to know this, but he was an excellent kisser, too. Really sent me into a tailspin,” you say, feeling the faint sensation dance across your lips, the ghost of his mouth on yours. “But he ran off at midnight like Cinderella and left only a mask behind to remind me that I didn’t dream up the whole thing.”

“Ah,” Seokjin says with a nod, a strangely succinct answer for a man as wordy as he. A silence settles over the two of you as you continue to eat, slowly emptying out the box of macarons between the two of you, a light snack to keep you occupied when your mouths aren’t running circles around each other. “My dog gave birth a few weeks ago,” he says randomly. “Want to see some photos?”

At your enthusiastic reply, Seokjin pulls his phone from his pocket and opens up his camera roll to reveal a gorgeous terrier with four equally adorable puppies nursing from her, and your heart nearly melts. Nearly all of his most recent photos are pictures of them as they’ve grown older, opened their eyes and learned how to walk, started play-fighting with each other and eventually tracking into new territory (the living room), but you don’t miss the couple of selfies you see here and there. Even with the warped iPhone camera does Seokjin still look positively flawless. 

“They’re adorable, Seokjin,” you tell him, heart soft. “I’m in love.”

“Me, too,” Seokjin says happily. “Two of the puppies have future homes but I think I want to keep one of them. I just love them too much to let them all go.”

“You’ll make a great dog dad,” you assure him, sighing contentedly. “God, don’t you even know how perfect you are, Seokjin?”

He is silent. 

“Like, you bring me coffee every day and do all of your work and never talk down to me or assume that I don’t know what I’m doing. You’ve raised a family of dogs and have shown them more love than anything else. You even got me to leave the office for once even though you knew that I’d be really annoying about it,” you declare, partially to him, partially to you, and partially to the world, who deserves to know that there is someone out there like Seokjin that is equal parts wonderful and generous and kind and handsome and funny and lovable. 

It’s not just the fact that most of your interactions with men your age go sour. It’s the fact that Seokjin is good just because he is, not because he tries to be. It’s the fact that he cares so deeply and loves so much. It’s the fact that for once, there is someone out there who really does understand you. 

“You deserve a break,” Seokjin points out. “You work too hard.”

“Hoseok will be so angry that you accomplished what he’s been trying to get me to do for months, now,” you say. You’ve already missed three phone calls and seven texts from him within the last couple of hours. 

“It’s my charm,” Seokjin teases, a soft watermelon macaron grin on his face. 

“It really is,” you agree, feeling the gap between you close, inch by inch. “There’s just something about you, Kim Seokjin.”

“Mmm, do tell,” Seokjin murmurs, beginning to lean in, your bodies moving of their own accord. Your mouth tastes like lemon and sugar and coffee, but you can’t find it in yourself to care any less. “Because there’s something about you too, Miss Y/N.”

Slowly, you feel your eyes begin to drift shut, craving more than what you already have, itching to feel his lips press against yours, to feel that same fire in your feins. Of course, the next time you kiss someone would be here, underneath a giant Japanese maple in the middle of a city park, the furthest cry from a hotel balcony beneath a starry sky. But something about this is distinctly familiar in a way that you can taste, in a way that you will know once his lips press against yours. Beside you, Seokjin is barely an inch apart from you, pink lips with macaron crumbs hovering over yours. God, he’s so close. 

You want him to be closer. 

And then—

“Aw, what the—?”

The two of you jerk apart to find a giant stain on Seokjin’s shoulder, courtesy of an unknown flying park visitor who has long disguised themselves amongst the leaves of the maple, waiting for the right time to do its business. 

“Seriously?” Seokjin groans, looking down at the white and brown stain that now rests squarely on the fabric of his brand new shirt, an unpleasant splat front and center. “Thank you, bird,” he declares, throwing his hands up in the air. 

You fight the urge to laugh at how uncanny all of this is. “I’ll pay for dry cleaning.”

“No, it’s alright,” Seokjin says, grabbing a couple of the napkins from the macaron shop to dab on the stain. “A little soap and laundry detergent will be enough. No big deal.”

“I just feel bad,” you tell him. 

“Me, too,” Seokjin agrees, pressing gently against the fabric. “Great timing, too.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, dejected. 

Perhaps, if you were a little bit bolder or a little less fearful, you would try again. You would throw caution to the wind and press his lips against his, bird business and all, and never look back. You would relish in the sensation of his mouth on yours, of his hands on your waist, itching to feel that same feeling again. Itching to know that there really is someone out there who will love you. 

But you aren’t, and the moment is over. And you can’t, because you just don’t know how to. And you ponder if you will forever wonder what he tastes like, what he feels like. 

The clock strikes three. 

Some days you come in early, and some days you stay in late. 

Later than usual, that is, because you regularly stay past eight in the evening without blinking an eye. 

But some nights, you just don’t feel like going home. At least, not yet, you do. Some nights, you would rather stay here.

Home is where you’re supposed to feel at ease, where you’re supposed to relax and unwind, take off your heels and jacket, pour yourself a cup of tea. And that is what your home is to you, a place that you try to keep as free of your work life as possible. 

But sometimes, you would rather just work. 

Rather work and feel productive and get home a little bit later than go home and feel like you still have so much to do. Rather work than dwell on all of the other parts of your life that don’t involve work, things like marriage and retirement and your family. Things that you feel like you have no say in, no control over. You go home and waiting for you is another phone call from your mother telling you that you need to find someone. You go home and your father drops by to hand you a pile of late-night tasks reminiscent of how hard he’s been working lately. You go home and even if you’re all by yourself, your thoughts take control over your mind. Your worries and fears are magnified. 

So some nights, you would rather just work. 

Peering out the window of your office, you notice that the stars are just a little bit brighter out here, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Not nearly as clear as they were on your birthday, at a hotel overlooking the town from afar, but clearer. There isn’t a cloud in the sky as the stars twinkle above you, waving hello from millions of light years away. 

Nights like these are too rare to spend indoors, huddled over your computer as you draft another email. Just because you’re still at work doesn’t mean you still have work to do. Well, you do, but you’re trying to be kinder to yourself. Trying to cut yourself a few more corners of slack. 

The rooftop is not off limits to guests. But you know a couple of secret places that can afford you the privacy you want, the space to lie back against the cement and feel the breeze tickle your skin.

When you arrive, there’s already someone there. A familiar tuft of brown hair, an oversized pink sweater. You wonder how long he’s been out here. 

“Knock knock.” Your sounds like a whisper but feels like a shout, the wind carrying the words from your lips to his ears as he turns around, hardly surprised to see you here. 

Seokjin laughs when he sees you, this fond, wonderful smile as you stroll up beside him, where he’s sat with his legs crossed on the rooftop’s edge, looking out over the distant city, the waterfront. “Didn’t think you’d still be here,” he says. 

“I could say the same for you,” you retort easily, setting down beside him. If you were any braver, you’d rest your head on his shoulder. 

You’re not. 

“You must know by now that I practically live here,” Seokjin jokes.

“Well, I’m starting to pay rent as well, so you better get used to it, don’t you think?” You tease back, looking out into the same city, illuminated by the same moon. 

Seokjin narrows his eyes. “I thought that you were going to start taking it easy on yourself,” he reminds you pointedly, one of the lasting lessons you had learned from the day out on the town. The other being not to sit underneath Japanese maple trees. 

“What can I say, I just love to work,” you say, and even though you try to make it sound like a joke both you and Seokjin know you’re not kidding. Work always has and always will be your biggest priority. Never have you lived in a world where anything else comes first. Never have you cultivated that sort of life for yourself. 

“How’s your family?” He asks, a broad question with a loaded answer. 

You don’t even feel yourself letting out a sigh until the groan leaves your lips, settling like dust. “The same as always,” you say, not even attempting to sound cheerful or happy about it. “They work me hard because they want me to succeed. And I want that, too.”

“But don't you ever want something more?” Seokjin asks, but it’s not the sort of question where he wants you to give him a yes or a no. It’s the sort of question where he already knows that you want to say yes, that there is a whisper deep inside of you that wants to have a life outside of your job, your workaholic family. But you can’t. Because your family is counting on you. 

“I just can’t let them down,” you say instead, because you and Seokjin both already knew how you were going to respond anyway. “There’s so much that they expect of me. What kind of heiress—no, what kind of daughter am I if I don’t at least try?”

“It sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot,” Seokjin muses. 

You force a chuckle. Obviously you have. Whenever you aren’t working, you’re thinking about what next you must do, what next is on your list. You’re thinking about how your family is counting on you to succeed. And how you want to do it for them. “I’ve had my moments.”

“Do a lot of people know how you feel?” He poses, looking at you curiously. 

You shrug. “Not really. My parents, no. Jungkook, sort of. Hoseok, yes. And I suppose you, now, too.”

Seokjin cracks a small smile, this lopsided grin that makes you feel like you’re missing something. “So I guess they’re secrets, aren’t they?”

“Secrets?” You respond naively, an eyebrow raised in bewilderment. 

“Secrets, huh?” He asks, sliding another inch closer, daringly so, teetering on the edge of territory that you haven’t touched in years. “I like the sound of that. Got any more for me?”

You smirk up at him, a grin playing on your lips. “Only if you have one for me in return. No freebies.”

He laughs, loud and clear, the sound ringing out in the nighttime air. “Alright,” he says, obliging. He leans in close, lips hovering above your ear. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

“Oh my God,” you say aloud, dumbfounded. “Oh my fucking God. It’s you?”

Seokjin laughs out loud at that, clapping his hands together at your positively shocked face, mouth agape like a fish out of water. He seems very amused by this, for some reason. A reason you can’t ascertain, mostly because you had no idea. “Honestly, I’m surprised you even figured it out from that. It took you forever to realize.”

You’re so scandalized you don’t even have the right words to respond. “What do you mean, ‘it took forever for me to realize’? Why didn’t you say something?” You demand. 

Seokjin’s still fighting off the remnants of his laughter, hiccups escaping from his parted lips every few seconds. “Because it was obvious you didn’t recognize me at first! And I had no idea it was you until you showed up at the hotel that first day anyway. And I didn’t want to bring it up, because I was worried it would have made things weird.”

“Look at us now!” You cry, positively mortified. Seokjin knew it was you the moment you stepped through the sliding glass doors and you still hadn’t figured it out, not even after weeks of knowing him, of getting to spend time with him. “God, I just—I can’t believe this.”

“The funny part is how I knew you had no idea who I was and yet I fell for you anyway,” Seokjin says, but his words aren’t making you laugh whatsoever. 

Your heart freezes in place as they sink in, etching themselves into your thoughts. “You—you what?”

“You befriended me without knowing that I was the man you kissed on the balcony that night, let me bring you coffee and confided in me and bought me the most expensive item of clothing that I currently own,” Seokjin says, a list of things that you loved him for all the same, “and I realized that it didn’t take that kiss to get me to fall for you. It took knowing you. Learning who you are. Who you want to be.”

You feel your heart getting lighter with every syllable that leaves his mouth, every breath that he takes. 

The truth is that no man had ever made you feel the way that the mystery man did when you kissed that night. But no man had ever loved you the way that Seokjin did. Treated you the way that Seokjin did. The kiss was a spark. 

The friendship was the fire. 

“All this time you were right here,” you muse, looking at him. Here in the moonlight you finally understand why he looked so familiar, why the light hit his skin in all the right places, why the sound of his voice had always struck a chord within you. He glows silver in the moonlight and yellow from the halo above his head, he sits beneath the navy sky and lets the starlight decorate his irises, sparkles in a deep brown ocean. “All this time, and I had no idea.”

“I’m sort of glad you didn’t know,” Seokjin admins sheepishly. “We got to fall in love another way.”

Love?

Could it be?

You’ve never truly been in love. Not the way that your parents are, or the sneaky way you see Yoongi looking at Jungkook sometimes when he’s not looking. But if it feels anything like this, anything like electricity beneath your skin and embers inside your chest, then you think you might be on your way. 

“You’re in love with me?” You ask. 

“Kinda, yeah,” Seokjin admits crudely. 

You feel your cheeks heating up, your heart bubbling within you. You lean in close, watching faintly as he does the same, eyes trained on your lips. “Do you have any other secrets for me?” You murmur, the words hot and heavy on your tongue. 

He inches closer to you, lips hovering above your own, this soft, contented smile on his face as he gazes down at you, at the way that you are beginning to love him back, at the way that you already do. 

“This.”

The words barely leave his lips before he’s pressing them against yours, and the moment you touch him you know, you know that it’s him, that it’s Seokjin, that he is the man that you have been waiting for. Immediately your body lights up, electric shocks tearing through your veins, blood set alight. He is so familiar, smells and tastes and feels so familiar, like you have known him for a thousand years and you’ll know him for a thousand more. You get the same sensation you had when you last kissed him, all those nights ago, your body going weak, your skin turning to flames, but there’s something else, too. 

A burst in your chest. A puff of smoke in your heart. 

A fireplace. A little room in your heart, just for the two of you. For you. For your love. 

You think you could get used to this. 

He pulls away after a few moments and immediately you feel dizzy, like his lips were the only thing keeping you stable, closing your eyes as you burn the feeling into your brain, memorize how his mouth presses against yours. 

When you finally open them, there Seokjin sits, kiss-drunk and in love, this goofy, wonderful smile on his face. 

“I’m still angry at you for not telling me. You could have saved us so much time,” you declare, not wanting the moment to last too long for fear that you’ll become obsessed.

Seokjin laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your nose. “Even if you forgot who I was tomorrow, I wouldn’t tell you,” he says, this stupid perfect grin on his face, this gorgeous, brilliant grin, “because I would happily fall in love with you all over again.”

God, he is so beautiful. A dream come true. A happy ever after.

The following morning your father saves you the trouble of having to awkwardly explain why you don’t feel comfortable continuing to oversee the resort hotel by letting you know that you’re welcome back in the central building in town and that he’ll have another executive replace you. Thank God, because that would have been one strange phone call. 

Luckily, when your parents do eventually meet Seokjin, they are pleased to see that he’s been a loyal hotelier to your family’s conglomerate for several years now, and that he excels at his job. You also think that your mother’s just gotten softer over the years, wishing more for you to be happy than for you to be married to someone you hate. 

It’s a good thing Seokjin’s charming. Otherwise, you have no idea what could have happened. But he’s here, and he’s with you, and your parents are happy and so are you. What more could you ask for?

“Your mom really didn’t have to throw this whole party just for me,” Seokjin whispers into your ear as the music plays on inside, this soft classical sound that Yoongi had composed not too long ago. 

You turn around to look back in through the window, watching all of the guests waltzing along to the song. Jungkook’s in the back corner, behind the grand piano, and you can see him throwing winks Yoongi’s way every now and then. The sound of the party is barely audible from out here, in the stars’ silence, in the faint way the night whispers, this distant white noise.

“Throwing parties is her thing,” you explain helplessly. “Besides, you’re part of the family now, aren’t you?”

“Hey now, we aren’t married just yet,” he reminds you pointedly. “Unless you—?”

“Only after my father’s retirement next month,” you tell him for the umpteenth time. It’s not that you don’t want to be married. It’s that you don’t have time. You’re about to inherit an entire empire. You would prefer not to be juggling two major life events at once, if you can help it. “Besides, you don’t even have a ring.”

“How do you know that?” He asks innocently.

You smack him in the torso with your satin-gloved hand, shocked. “What?”

“I never said anything,” he teases, looking off to the side far too guiltily for your liking. 

You place your hands on your hips and turn firmly to face him. “Kim Seokjin, do you want to marry me?” You demand. 

Seokjin laughs, twirling you around before pressing a kiss to your lips, the two of you giggling. “Always!” He declares to the world. “I think about marrying you every day of my life.”

You grin. “Then we will. Then let’s get married. After my father’s retirement, of course.”

“Of course,” Seokjin agrees. 

“What do you think the theme should be?” You ask, racking your brain for potential options. You like the idea of a rustic, cottage-y wedding. Or perhaps a more celestial one. Or maybe, if you wanted to go full circle, a masquerade.

Seokjin smiles. It’s clear he already has his answer. 

“How about Cinderella?”

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

[hotchnersbiitch]

Worth Fighting For

A/N: SEND ME REQUEST PLZ

Request: @jojosgirlkat1dluvr​

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader 

Category: angst & fluff at the end 

Warning: kidnapping, violence. Heavily based off the episode titled Revelations 2x15, so if for some weird reason you haven't seen that episode this will contain major spoilers I guess??

Word Count: 2,003~ 8min

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You groan as you woke up in a dark room that smelt awful. Your face was throbbing in pain, you went to touch your face when you realized your hands were handcuffed to a chair. Where were you? The last thing you remember was being with JJ to talk to a possible witness but you both discovered that he was the unsub. Tobias? You think that was his name, he ran around back you and JJ split up to look for him. Next thing you know you were hit in the head, now you're in a dirty cabin. 

“Shit.” You mumble out of pain looking down at your handcuffed hands trying to see if there was a way out. 

“Watch your language.” A loud threatening voice called out, the man from earlier was standing in front of you, your eyes went wide. 

“Colossians 3:8; But now you must also rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips.” The man recited as he pulled out a revolver and one silver bullet holding the bullet up to your face. 

“This, this is God’s will.” He says loading the bullet into the gun and spinning the chamber before pointing it directly at your forehead.

“Y-you don't have to do this.” You stutter out, fearing for your life. 

“Yes I do,” he mumbled, next thing you heard was the pull of the trigger. click

The whole team was at Tobias’ house trying to find a way to get you back. Your best friend Spencer was losing his mind, he was so worried about you. You guys have been best friends before you even joined the BAU a few years after Spencer did. You both went to college together, you guys were inseparable. Hours passed with no luck, Spencer was worried sick but he was trying his best to stay calm and figure out where you were. Everyone was, you were the youngest of the group, everyone tried their best to protect you. 

“What are you doing? Don’t, please don’t” You beg as Tobias fills a syringe with a clear liquid, you had no idea what it was. 

“It helps.” He says calmly as he lines the needle up with your vein. 

“Please, I don't want it. I don't want it, please.” You were crying not knowing what was going to happen to you. 

“Trust me, I know.” He says as he sticks you with the needle slowly injecting you with the drug. You wince at the pain, you feel the liquid flow through your veins your eyes rolled to the back of your head. 

“Y/N? Y/N?” you sat up off the floor in an empty, completely white room, you saw your mom standing across from you, how was this possible, she's dead. Are you hallucinating? Are you dead? 

“Mom?” 

“Don’t be afraid to let go, sweetie,” she said in an angelic voice, it all made sense to you now.

“I don't want to die.” You cry out to your mother. 

“Then fight, what's something worth fighting for?” She asks

“Spencer.” You reply immediately, you loved Spencer so much. You don't want to leave this Earth without him knowing he’s the love of your life. You don't want to hide your feelings for your best friend anymore. You wanted a life, with him.

“Fight for him Y/N. Don't give up on him, you love him. He loves you too. Don't give up on him.” She says her voice becoming quieter and quieter.

“I love him, I love him..... I love him.” 

  “Guys! Guys! Get in here!” Derek yells from Tobias's computer room where Garcia was working to find you. The team rushes in gathering behind Garcia, gasping when they see the computer screen. Spencer's face went white and he started crying, JJ placed a hand on his back to comfort him, but there was no calming him down now. 

“He’s killing her,” Garcia said looking away from the screen where you were being beaten. The team watched intently as the scene unfolded in front of their eyes. 

“Answer me! How many members are on your team not including yourself?!” He yelled, he broke you you couldn't take anymore beating. You didn't know how much longer you could hold out. 

“Seven” You mutter your voice weak. 

“The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and they were thrown to the earth.” He says walking around you before standing in front of you again, you glanced at the camera that was filming you with a terrified look on your face. 

“Tell me who you serve.” He demands. 

“I serve you” You whimper out. 

“Then chose one to die.” 

“What?” You question your heart rate picking back up again. 

“Your team members- chose one to die.” 

“Kill me.” You meant it, you'd give your life for your team.

“Choose, and prove you'll do God's will.” He says as he pulls out the revolver again spinning the chamber before pressing it to your forehead. 

“Choose.” 

“I won't do it.” he pulled the trigger. Nothing. 

“Life is a choice, now choose.” 

“No.” he pulled the trigger again. Nothing 

“Choose.” 

“I...” You thought for a moment before a plan arose in your head. 

“I choose... Spencer Reid,” you utter out.

“He’s a classic narcissist, he thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team because of his intelligence. Genesis 23:4 “Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility. For these shall be his recompense.” 

Spencer shook his head, immediately knowing what you were doing. 

“That's wrong,” Spencer says. 

“She doesn't mean it, man, she's under tremendous stress,” Morgan says and Spencer shakes his head wiping his puffy eyes. 

“I know that I'm not a narcissist. But she does know that I know what she means.” He says the team gives him a perplexed look waiting for him to elaborate. 

“Y/N and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism not too long ago, and she knew that I would remember that, and she also quoted Genesis, chapter 23, verse 4. ‘I am a stranger and a foreigner with you. Give me property, forbear a place among you that I may bury my dead out of my sight.’ She wouldn't get it wrong unless it was on purpose. She's in a cemetery.” He explained in a broken voice. 

“She's telling me where she is,” he adds. 

“Okay, uh....” Garcia says typing away on the computer. Hotchner leans over her and points to the screen. 

“What's that patch of green there?” He asks. 

“Marshall Parish. I think it is an old plantation” Garcia responds. 

“Wait!” Spencer says running to get one of Tobias's journals flipping it open before rushing back in. 

“Tobias wrote in his journals about staying clean and keeping away from Marshall,” Spencer says passing the journal around to the team. 

“Guys, there's a cemetery on the grounds,” Garcia says. 

“She's there guys, Garcia send us the address. We have to go before its too late!” Spencer yells running out to the SUVs with everyone else. He was so scared he’d never see you again, he had to hurry. 

You woke up to the man taking off your handcuffs, you panicked, what was happening? 

“What are you doing?” You ask as the handcuffs dropped to the floor, suddenly he grabbed you by the hair dragging you outside. You screamed out in pain as he dragged you out to the cemetery, he drops you before throwing a shove at you. 

“Dig,” he says sternly, you sobbed and did as he said scared as to what may happen if you didn't obey. You hoped Spencer got your message and the team was on their way to come save you. You dug for what felt like hours but was only several minutes, you felt weak, you needed to escape. You didn't think your team was going to find you in time. You looked at the man before you swung the shovel hitting him in the leg. He fell to the ground and you took this chance to run the best you could, you could see flashlights in the distance, was that them? 

“HELP! I’M OVER HERE! SPENCER! GUYS!” You screamed with all the power you had hobbling as fast as you could, you saw them coming closer to you. Suddenly you felt something hard hit the back of your head and a gunshot echo through the night. 

You woke up to bright lights blinding you, you groan closing your eyes again, your whole body ached. 

“Y/N?” You heard Spencer’s voice. 

“Is she waking up?” You heard Derek ask. You were alive, you were safe, you felt comfort wash over you. You forced your eyes open. 

“Thank God...I’m alive” You mumble looking around seeing your team all around you. 

“Yeah, babygirl you're alive,” Derek says quietly, you look over at him and smile at him. 

“How are you feeling?” Emily asked walking over to you. 

“Like shit.” You say with a small chuckle. 

“Yeah, I’d imagine you were hit over the head with a shovel,” Emily says matching your vibe with a small laugh. 

“That's what that was? I thought I got shot, I felt something hit me and I heard a gun go off and then everything went black.” You explain, the whole team was standing around now listening. 

“No, you weren't shot. Spencer shot Tobias right after he hit you.” Aaron explains, abruptly everything came rushing back to you. 

“Spencer...” you mumble looking over to him tears pooling in your eyes you grabbed his hand. 

“I knew you'd understand. I knew you would.” You mumble before you started crying. Spencer started crying too and nodded. 

“Yeah, I understood immediately. That was brilliant, I’m so glad you thought of that because otherwise... We may not have found you.” He says with a sniffle. You look around at everyone tears flowing down your face. 

“Thank you guys, so much. I was so afraid, I thought I’d never see you guys again.” You admit, JJ and Garcia were crying now too. Derek looked like he was about to, you were so happy to be alive. After a while, everyone said their goodbyes and said they would all be back tomorrow to pick you up since you had to stay in the hospital overnight. Soon enough it was just you and Spencer, you were grateful you two were alone now. 

“Spence, will you stay the night with me tonight? I’m scared to be alone. I know there are doctors around and stuff but I'm scared.” You admit, Spencer sat next to you and grasped your hand. 

“Yes of course. You don't have to explain yourself, I figured you would ask anyways.” He says softly, he looked like a wreck from hours of crying and worrying. 

“You were the only thing keeping me alive.” You say softly looking down at your hands that were intertwined together, you resumed. 

“You're the only reason I didn't give up. I didn't want to die... I didn't want to die before I could tell you I love you... I love you so much, more than a friend.” You said not making eye contact with him, it was quiet for a moment before you heard Spencer crying, which in turn made you start to tear up as well. 

“I was worried I was never going to be able to tell you I love you either.” He says with a small smile on his face as tears streamed down his cheeks, he continued. 

“I love you too, I've been hiding it for so long. I was so scared I'd never get the chance to tell you.” He admitted you smiled at him as he brought your hand to his lips kissing it gently. 

“You're my hero Spencer Reid, I love you.” You say looking at him with eyes full of admiration for him he smiles softly kissing your knuckles. 

“I love you too.”

[flooffybits]

What About Us?

Idol: Jennie Kim (Blackpink)

Anon: hii! can i request a jennie scenario wherein she read a lot of comments/tweets about her fem s/o about how her s/o is only using her for her money/fame and bc of that she kind of believed it and grew distant and her s/o overhears her calling her a gold digger in front of the other members while they were hanging out and s/o gets hurt and just leaves and try to give back all jennie's gifts or something like that? angst with fluffy ending pls!! i love your scenarios always!!

Author’s note: I went too angsty with this and I had no idea how to make it fluffy, but it doesn’t end too sadly hopefully

pretty sure she doesnt even care about jennie

shes obviously dating jennie because shes in blackpink

such a fake

Jennie’s frown deepened when she saw the many malicious comments online. Of course, she’s used to people sending her hate and having rumors spread about her. But this time around, the hate was not directed at her, but rather her girlfriend.

It’s been half a year since she’s come out to the public and introduced you to the world, and even with the various support she’s gotten for having the courage of coming out, the backlash of it was the people attacking you with so many hurtful words.

Jennie knows you’re aware of them, but you’ve never spoken up about it that she wonders if you find them bothersome or not. It’s made her think.

Were you only with her because of her fame? Did you really love her?

Lately, she couldn’t help reading such comments. When she first introduced you to the public as her girlfriend, she kept watching, wanting her fans to be accepting towards you and having the same respect that they had for her. But the longer time passed, the more assumptions were thrown at you.

And your dismissive behavior did not help in easing her worries.

As a result, she’s been pulling herself back whenever the two of you were together, always eyeing you when you spent time with her and trying to notice the way you would react to her every time. Were you being sincere to her or not?

She hadn’t even realized how much she let the comments get to her head.

“I just don’t know.” She sighed once when she was with her members, eating breakfast. You were sound asleep in her bed when she left you, so she decided it was the best time she could talk to her friends about the mess that was going through her head.

She didn’t think talking to you about it would help her because obviously, she think, you’ll defend yourself.

Jisoo pursed her lips at her friend when she lowered her fork. “I don’t really think Y/n is like that.” She stated. “I mean, she’s been with you longer than the public knows. You haven’t had these thoughts before.” She added and Chaeyoung nodded. “She’s right. Y/n is a sweet girl.”

“Maybe when in public? You know that gold diggers pretend to be nice to get what they want.” Jennie reasoned and this time, Lisa cut in, a deep frown on her face. “Hey, that’s not fair. You’re not sure if she’s being genuine, but that doesn’t mean you should be calling Y/n unnie a gold digger.” She retorted, making Jennie sigh as she rubbed her temple.

“Then how am I going to tell? I can’t flat out ask her because that’s obviously too forward.” She huffs, unknowing of your presence lingering by the door.

You had woken up a little after Jennie left the bed. And in your tired state, you didn’t get up right away, only when your stomach grumbled. But as you neared the kitchen and heard more of the girls’ voices, your sleepiness began to evaporate and your heart started to crack when you heard the things your supposed girlfriend was saying about you.

The moment she had called you a gold digger, tears had already fallen from your eyes and you quickly but quietly left for her bedroom to collect your things. You switched out of the clothes Jennie had lent you the night prior, tossing them in the basket, and then slipping on your hoodie and jeans. When you had everything, you hurriedly left her a note on her nightstand, making up the excuse that something came up before silently leaving the dorm after making sure that all of the girls were still in the kitchen.

"Unnie, if you can't trust Y/n, then what's the point of being in a relationship with her?" Chaeyoung couldn't help but ask and Jennie quickly quieted down, staring at her plate. "If you're having thoughts like these, I don't think it's fair for you to be doubting her like this when she could possibly be with you without the thought of money or fame."

"Chaeyoung is right. Personally, I doubt she's ever really thought of doing that to you. She's been sweet and loving to you, we can see that when you're together." Jisoo frowned. "It's just sad that you're letting other people's opinions cloud your view of your own girlfriend."

That made Jennie wince as she dropped her head and just stare at her plate, no longer hungry when she realizes that her friends were right. You’ve been together for years, and yet she only began to doubt you because her fans refused to trust you.

She just couldn't seem to shake off the doubt that was implanted into her brain after all the things she's read for the past few weeks.

"In my opinion, break up." Lisa says sternly, pushing her chair back as she brought her empty plate to the sink. "If you don't trust her, there's no point in staying."

Chaeyoung sighed as she looked to her best friend. Of course, the younger girl was right and she understands why she's upset, but they had no right interfering with Jennie's relationship because it simply wasn't their business. The best they could do was listen and give her advice, the rest was for Jennie to deal with.

"I'll go talk to her." The blonde murmured, quietly exiting the kitchen and leaving the two older girls alone.

Jisoo eyed Jennie from across the table and kept her arms crossed, her lips pressed into a thin line. She wanted to help her friend. But she also wasn't very happy with the way she had quickly discarded all the struggles you went through together before this moment.

She was your friend, too, and it would be a lie if she said she didn't care for you as much as she did for her members.

"Why don't you get ready? We have a shoot in a few hours." She tells the younger girl and Jennie sits there for a few more minutes, contemplating if she was capable of looking at you after everything she's just said about you.

Eventually, she does go. Quietly, she heads to her room, wondering if you were still asleep since you haven't come out yet. But when she peeks inside, she's surprised to see no one there.

The bed is made, the clothes you used were put properly away and then everything else was as she left it except for the piece of paper that was left on her desk.

Upon further inspection, she recognizes your handwriting and furrows her brows at the message. It makes her suspicions grow, but at the same time, her stomach churns. She was unaware of you hearing her conversation with them, girls so she doesn’t give it too much thought, simply sending you a text to say you should text or call her when you were free before she proceeded to her closet and pick out her outfit for the day.

..

Jennie doesn't hear from you for the rest of the day, which confuses her.

You've always texted her throughout the day to see how she was doing, always asking her if she's eaten or drank enough water. So, now that you weren't checking up on her has thrown her off the loop.

It was already evening and she was checking her phone in case she missed a text or call, but found none.

Instead, when she arrives back with the girls, she's surprised to see you leaving her room, hands tucked in the pockets of your jacket with your head down.

Something about it sets her off, and without thinking, she scoffs at you while crossing her arms. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She asks you, and you're surprised to see that she's already home.

"So, you ignored me for the whole day because you had something "important" to do. And when I come, I find you trying to, what, steal from me?"

"Jennie." Jisoo calls warningly while Chaeyoung and Lisa looked worried when you refuse to look at them.

But Jennie didn't mean to say those things. In her fear of finding out that you were using her, her emotions blinded her and had forced the words out, her heart pounding against her rib cage before she's watching you finally bring your hand out of your pocket and show her the spare key she had given you for the dorms.

"I came to drop this off." You try to keep your tone even, but it's so soft and fragile that the worry in the girls worsened. Jennie's expression even softened, but the confusion set in at your words. "What?"

You lift your head and Lisa gasps when she sees the tear tracks and red eyes, a clear indication that you've been crying. But before any of them could say anything, you were already dropping the key on the table.

"I'm leaving. Don't worry, I didn't touch anything."

"Y/n-" Chaeyoung tried calling for you, but you only shook your head and walked to the door, but Jennie tailed after you, latching onto your hand right before you could leave.

But before she could say a word, you yanked your hand away, whirling around to glare at her despite the hot tears that were already cascading down your face. "Don't fucking touch me." You gritted out, pain laced in your voice as Jennie stared at you in disbelief.

"Y/n, what is your problem?" She snapped back, your attitude setting her off from being ignored the whole day, but instead of backing out like usual, you glared back at her. "You left without even a proper goodbye, ignored me the whole day, and suddenly you're in the dorm without telling anyone, then you have the audacity to be angry?"

At that, you scoff before stepping closer to her. "I have no reason to explain myself to you." You say while stubbornly wiping your face. "The only reason I wasn't replying to you was because I was looking and packing everything you own and then dropped them off here."

At your words, Jennie's anger vanished and she looked at a loss. Her things?

You stared at her for a while before shaking your head, defeat on your features as you step away once more. "I'm not gonna stick around with someone who'd rather believe what everyone says instead of trusting me and calling me a gold digger, where her friends were the ones who defended me behind my back. I'm done."

Her heart jumped to her throat when she realized that you'd heard what she said to the girls. With the sudden revelation, she isn't quite sure what she could tell you.

"I just... I thought-"

"That the people who don't know a damn thing about me were right? That the person who stuck up for you every single time would actually treat you like a fucking toy?" You guessed for her. "They're my fans!" She defends and you frown at her, seeing clearly just where she held you.

"Yeah. And what did that make us?"

You knew that some fans wouldn't accept the fact that Jennie was dating, much more a girl, but you didn't really think that she would choose them over you, especially like this.

"Forget it, Jennie. All of your things are in your room. Goodbye."

But Jennie wouldn't let you leave when she moved to shut the door just as you opened it. "Can we talk about this?" She pleaded, panic running through her veins despite her earlier anger.

"Talk about what? Jennie, you called me a fucking gold digger because your fans said so?" You shot at her. "Do you realize how that makes our relationship?"

“I’m sorry!” She yelled back, refusing to budge as she blocked your only exit. “I know that it was dumb of me, but please, let’s talk about it.” She tries again and you try so hard to fight your tears back with the inner turmoil that was inside of you.

You wanted her to be sorry, you wanted her to take back everything she’s said behind your back, but you know that once words were let go, there was no turning back. The damage was permanent and there was no changing that no matter how many times she apologized.

Yet your heart was so damn stubborn that you couldn’t outright deny her request. So, she saw that and used it to her advantage, no matter how wrong she knows it is.

Leading you back to her room, she had noticed that her members all disappeared to their own quarters and she just hopes that they can leave things to her. That is, if she can handle what’s about to happen.

Entering her room, she spots the two boxes at the foot of her bed and she inhales sharply, seeing the necklace she had given you for your first anniversary sitting at the top of them. Only now did she notice that you weren’t wearing it, knowing fully well that you never took it off once she gave it to you.

“Y/n, I know that this is messed up, but please just... we can work this out, I swear.” She starts and you stare at her in disbelief. “What can you do to make this work? What did I do to make you even think of me like that, Jennie?” You ask in a broken voice that makes her heart crack.

“You know me. I have not once asked you to spend a single dime on me or this relationship. I have never demanded that you get me gifts or to pay for me when we go out. You know that I argue with you on who pays the bill. So, why?”

For the first time in her life, Jennie didn’t know what to say. She was always so sure of herself and the things she wanted, but now, staring at you while you desperately tried to understand where things have gone wrong has rendered her speechless.

You stand, staring at each other, and your tears refuse to stop as you covered your face with your hands and let out a shaky breath. Jennie withers at the sight of you looking so weak, so vulnerable, because of her. So, she doesn’t hesitate as she steps forward to wrap her arms tightly around you.

“I know that I was wrong to believe them.” She mutters when she feels you weakly pushing against her, but she holds on tight, refusing to let you go. “I was  just so clouded with what everyone was saying and I was scared of talking to you about this.” She closed her eyes when your pushing started to weaken. “You’re right. I made our relationship look like an absolute joke for trusting someone who isn’t you and you have every right to be pissed at me. But please, I’ll do my best to be better at this. I should have known better, and you deserve so much more than what I put you through.” She could feel her own tears start to fall, but she doesn’t bother them.

You’ve stopped resisting her and just let your hands grab a fistful of her shirt, sobbing into her chest. “Please, just give me one last chance. I promise, this won’t ever happen again.” She whispers and the room is only filled with your sobs.

You’re both on the floor when Jennie feels your legs giving out. She holds you because she knows that you’re in pieces.

“Why did you have to say it?” You cried into her chest and she kisses your head while frowning to herself. She shouldn’t have done it, but all she could do now was make up for it.

She’s ruined three years in a single moment. But she swears that she’ll spend the rest of her life making up for it, even when you move past this and maybe forget about it happening.

“I’m so sorry.”

[cycat4077]

When the Time is Right

Summary: Is it time to take your relationship to the next level?  Set at the start of S18 - roughly August 2016. Pairing: Sonny x Reader Warnings: Mature themes...of the NSFW variety, some cussing, fluff, feels, etc. Words: 1927 AO3 here

Technically part 12 in the Changes verse, but can act as a stand-alone.

Consider this a Valentine’s day themed thingy even though it’s set in August 🥰

"It's weird I guess," you say in between sips of tea, "how some parts of our relationship have happened so quickly, like meeting his parents right away, while other parts of it aren't rushed at all. For instance, the two of us were complete idiots and it took a couple of months to formally say ‘I love you’." The admission makes you chuckle, but as you look up from your drink, the devious grin pasted across your friend’s face tells you that she’s hung up on one small detail.

"You guys haven't done it yet, have you?" blurts Sydney, sitting wide-eyed across from you on her sofa.

You're normally a pretty private person so you can't help it when your cheeks start to burn, effectively giving away your secret.

"You haven't!" she exclaims, eagerly setting down her teacup, ready for details.

"Syd!"

The blonde raises her arms in mock defense. "Hey, hey! There's nothing wrong with it but it's kind of a rarity to not be in each other's pants by now!"

You grow even more self-conscious, tracing the rim of your mug handle as a distraction.

"Listen,” Sydney begins sternly, “he's super nice to you and charming and sweet, so I just wanna make sure he's not -"

But you interrupt her before she can make the accusation. "Sonny isn't like that," you state, adopting a firm tone of your own. "We just haven't gotten there yet...there's been no rush. I feel totally comfortable around Sonny and he's never once made me feel like we should be doing anything."

"Good," she asserts. "I just want to make sure you're not being played because the good ones are really hard to find."

Ever since you met in college, Sydney has been fiercely protective of you, and clearly that side of her is something that's never changed. Despite her thirst for details, you also know that you can truly trust her so you suppose there's no harm in opening up a little. "I mean, it's not like I haven't thought about it,” you confess sheepishly. “I went on the pill not long after we started dating because you never know, but our lives have been so busy and messy. Especially this summer. We've had our ups and downs - some beyond our control and some were issues that we've worked out together. I really feel like we've come out of it stronger and the more we experience together, the more I’m certain that Sonny is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with."

Sydney cracks a goofy smile.

"Yeah, yeah. Corny. I know," you wave dismissively, "but I can't help loving him more and more each day. Our relationship is so special to me and personally, sex is one of the most intimate things a couple can do. It's about love. So, waiting for the right time isn't a big deal. If anything, it will just bring us that much closer."

"Girl, you're crazy lucky!” chimes Sydney, affectionately. "And there's nothing wrong with waiting to bang. You remember me from back in the day and how I had my fair share of ‘promiscuous encounters’. Actually, with Geoff..." Sydney's eyes narrow as she recollects her ex, "fuck, do I wish we had waited! He said all the right things and made all the right gestures. Our relationship moved so fast! We hit the milestones at a hundred miles per hour…and I believed it! But then the cheating started. When I found out - and I still feel this way sometimes - when I think about having slept with him, I feel so dirty and cheap." She ducks her head and you can tell that the wound still smarts.

"You can't blame yourself for his behavior!" you rationalize, wishing your friend wouldn't be so hard on herself.

"I know! And I don't, but it's that shame and embarrassment of knowing I was so foolish to believe there was love there. Even the thought of having given myself over to him in that way makes me wanna upchuck. Hell, those one-night stands where the guy dips out as soon as he finishes don't feel as cheap or degrading. So, hon, there's nothing wrong with the pace you're moving at. Believe me. Maybe if I had waited longer with Geoff, his true colours would have shone through earlier..."

"It's in the past, Syd," you reason, "and you know what is special about that? It goes to show you how much you can trust and love someone. And even though Geoff was a total asshole, there's gonna be a guy out there for you someday who will be worthy of all that."

Sydney smiles despite herself. "You're a total sap, you know that, right?" You grin at her and nod proudly. "But I love ya for it." She then leans across the sofa and gives you a grateful hug. Parting, Sydney continues. "You'll know when the time is right," she reassures you. "You may talk about it or it may just happen, but you and Sonny are the mushiest, most in-love couple I've ever seen, so I know you'll be just fine."

-x-

Nights in with Sonny are the best. Lately you both had been so busy. Sonny was working overtime on top of double shifts, while you were occupied with perfecting your new course curriculum before the semester started.

When the two of you were finally able to have an evening off, you'd find something to eat and just lounge on the couch; maybe pop in a movie and sit snuggled up together. You didn't need to be doing anything in particular to enjoy each other's company.

Sometimes though, those cozy moments strayed towards other forms of physical affection. To put it in simple terms: you’d make out…And tonight happened to be no different.

"This movie's dumb," grumbles Sonny, leaning his head on the back of the sofa.

"Yep," you agree, staring blankly at the tv screen.

Sonny then turns his face towards you, offering a cheeky grin. "At least tha company's good."

You flop yours in his direction. "I suppoooose so," you tease with a roll of your eyes.

Sonny pouts and you laugh at how ridiculous he looks. When his put-on expression doesn't crack, you decide it's time to steer the evening towards a more preferable form of entertainment. "Y'know, if you don't stop making that face, I'm gonna have to wipe it off you myself." There's a deliberate hint of suggestion in your voice and you bite your lip to make your intentions crystal clear.

With a gleam in his eye, Sonny playfully deepens the curl of his frown which obviously leaves you with no choice but to reach out, nab his jaw and pull him to your lips. His arm encircles you and his hand presses against your back to coax you near. The quick peck blossoms into several more deep and passionate kisses; the two of you barely able to spare a breath in between.

As things continue to heat up you climb over and straddle Sonny’s lap. To your delight, this move elicits an 'Mmm!' of pleasant surprise from the Italian detective’s throat. Your hair falls over your shoulder as you peer down into his swirling blue eyes. "Hi," you grin quietly.

Sonny stares up at you in wonder. His hands fix themselves to the small of your waist. "Hey," he returns softly as the corners of his mouth cradle a gentle smile.

You hold his gaze a moment longer, soaking in the view. You're still in awe that the man before you is all yours, but as you lean down to capture his lips, you're reassured of your reality. Sonny mirrors your every move, matching your passion. The kisses grow even more heated. Your fingertips work at his silver temples while Sonny's hands burn up your skin where they've snuck themselves beneath your shirt. A gentle but firm squeeze is all it takes for your hips to involuntarily grind down against his.

Suddenly, Sonny raises your bum off of his lap. "What's wrong?" you ask with worry.

He shuts his eyes reluctantly before opening them to you, brow furrowed and expression vulnerable. "It's just...well, if we keep this up..." He winces and his cheeks turn pink.

You shift your knees on the sofa to steady yourself and raise your own eyebrows in understanding. "Oh," you say, growing quiet and nervous. The two of you never did get around to a discussion on taking things further, which left you to wonder where Sonny stood on the matter.

Ever the gentleman, he delicately tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, "I just don't know if we're ready for...this."

"Babe," you sit back on his thighs, rubbing your palms soothingly along his shoulders. "Do you want to wait? I know your beliefs are a little firmer than mine."

"Nuh-no! It's not that!" he exclaims. "I just don't wanna move too fast for you!" Sonny too, turns timid as he speaks.

You can't help but smile down at him. What had you done to deserve such a sweetheart? You recall the conversation with Sydney from a couple weeks ago. She was right.

"I believe in love," you breathe, running your thumb tenderly along his cheek, "and I love you more than anything."

"I love you too, doll," echoes Sonny, the confidence returning to his voice.

You kiss him again. It's long and lingering, reigniting the flame between you. Sonny draws you to his chest and you link your arms behind his neck. "I want this, if you do," you speak in a soft voice.

"I want this too. I want you...so much." The reply is almost a whisper, his lips mere inches from your own.

Emboldened, you withdraw and stand up, your skin tingling where his fingers brush along your waist. Never breaking eye contact, you reach out your hand. Sonny accepts and you lead him to the bedroom.

-x-

The next morning you awake to orange licks of early sunlight flickering through the blinds. Sonny's arm surrounds you, clutching you to his bare chest. His heavy breathing sounds beside your ear and you think it impossible for life to be any more perfect. You snuggle your naked form closer into his, wishing to stay in his warm embrace forever.

Then Sonny begins to stir. "Mornin' beautiful," he says, Staten Island accent heavy with sleep.

"Morning," you turn over in his arms to place a kiss at the corner of his mouth.

He releases you, propping his head up on an elbow. "Last night was..."

"Wow," you finish with a flirtatious grin.

Sonny sighs dreamily, "yeah." He then takes a finger and beings tracing light circles over your exposed shoulder. "Kinda wish we'd done that sooner." His tone is husky but his eyes are filled with affection.

"We've got our whole lives ahead of us, Sonny," you offer before delicately sweeping a piece of his hair away from his forehead.

You watch his blue eyes soften and crinkle at the corners. Dimples form from his smile. But instead of answering, he simply leans forward and kisses you.

Last night wasn't just physical; you found a whole new connection with Sonny. One deeply rooted in attraction but brought to life and nurtured by love. It was like you were completely in synch, giving and taking from one another wholly and completely. And, as you once again melt into his kiss, you know that everything had worked out just as it was meant to be.

---

Part 13 here!

A/N: I really love this fic. I've had it in my drafts for a long time and I really wanted to find the perfect place to add it into the series. I'm no expert but it kind of ticks me off how the media portrays physical relationships to be the holy grail...like it's a make or break type thing or that people need to be physical to fall in love. So, I tend to gravitate towards character-couples who do the opposite...and to me, Sonny seems like the type who values an emotional connection over a purely physical one. Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed reading this fic! The last paragraph is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written!

[much-obliged-timothy]

Whumptober #20

Borderlands- #20 - Lost

This is loosely based on a shelved fic idea I was writing for Timothy being in the events of TFTBL!

*

Rhys huddled in the little shade he could find. The sun beat down heavily on the land, and he was sweating horribly. 

He was miserable. His shoe was missing. His friends were missing. He was going to die of dehydration on Pandora. He never even got that promotion. Handsome Jack was in his damn head.

Could this situation possibly get any worse?

As if hearing that thought, Jack flickered into existence before him. “Heya, Rhysie.” He looked around and put his hands on his hips. “Damn, kiddo, are you still lost?”

“I need to find Vaughn. And water,” Rhys said, tugging at the collar of his shirt. 

“I’d say water is probably a bigger priority than your disturbingly ripped friend,” Jack said. “If you die, I die. So get up and let’s get moving.”

Rhys forced himself to his feet, feeling a little lightheaded. He pressed a hand to his head until the feeling had mostly passed, and then stumbled after Jack.

“Do you know where you’re going?” he asked.

“Nope. Not a clue,” Jack said pleasantly. “Still making better progress than you were, pumpkin.” 

Rhys scowled, but didn’t have the energy to argue. He swiped his arm across his forehead, wiping the sweat away.

He wanted a shower. He wanted to be back on Helios, where there was water and air conditioning and where the people who wanted to kill you were at least polite about it. 

No wonder Jack had wanted to civilize this planet. It was a goddamn nightmare here.

They trekked along for what felt like hours. But then the heat became too much, and Rhys had to sit down, pulling his vest over his head in a weak attempt to shield it from the harsh rays. He could see the heat rising off the ground in shimmering waves, and his lips were so dry that they’d started to crack and bleed.

“Jack,” he croaked. “We’re lost. We’re even more lost than we were before. There’s no sign of a town anywhere.”

Jack was furrowing his brow as he looked around at the vast emptiness. “Not even a freaking bandit camp around here? This place sucks.”

Rhys laid down on the ground, too tired to even be afraid anymore. They were hopelessly lost on Pandora. It was too hot for him to keep going.

They didn’t stand a chance. He wondered if anyone would find his body, or if the skags and rakks would just pick away at him until he was nothing.

“Up, Rhysie,” Jack said, his hand going through Rhys’s cheek as he attempted to pat it. “C’mon, kiddo, this is not how I’m dying. Uh, dying for a second time, I mean. Get the hell up and keep moving. There’s got to be a bandit camp around here somewhere you can get water from.”

Rhys just closed his eyes. He could hear Jack yelling his name, but what was the point of trying anymore?

He didn’t know his way around Pandora. At this point, he wasn’t even sure which way they’d come from. The others would be at Hollow Point, but Rhys didn’t know how to get there. He couldn’t even find water; how was he supposed to ever find Hollow Point?

So much for revenge on Vasquez. All he’d done was dig his own grave. He hoped the girls took care of Vaughn and kept him safe.

Something nudged his shoulder, and he weakly swatted his hand. Wouldn’t Jack just give up already?

But then he remembered that Jack couldn’t touch him.

“Oh, wow, still alive.”

Rhys forced his eyes open at the voice. It sounded so much like Jack that he expected to only see Jack there, but instead, a masked figure looked down at him.

Jack was next to the figure, narrowed eyes searching him. “Rhys, get up.”

Rhys realized the man was wearing a marauder mask. Great, he lived just long enough for a bandit to skin him alive. 

“Hey, you conscious?” The marauder shook his shoulder. “Oh, damn, you are. What’s a Hyperion lackey doing half-dead in the middle of nowhere?”

“Water,” Rhys managed.

“Yea, kiddo, I can see you need that,” the figure said.

Anger whipped across Jack’s face. “Oh, no. Oh hell no. Rhys, get up. I know who this is. He’s a dirty little traitor. We need to leave. Leave it to this coward to hide his face.”

Rhys didn’t have the energy to leave. He just stared up at the stranger, his only hope of survival.

The figure contemplated him for a long moment before letting out a heavy sigh. “Hyperion ditched you here, didn’t they?”

“Tried to...kill me,” Rhys managed.

“C’mon, then. Shit, I’m going freaking soft these days.” The figure got his arms under Rhys and lifted him. He situated Rhys so that he was carrying most his weight, and began to drag him along. 

“Rhys! You can’t trust him!” Jack said, flashing next to Rhys, that fury in his eyes. “He’s up to something.” Jack pointed at the marauder. “Him? He used to work for me. And you know what he did? He ran away. Stole money from me, sold Hyperion information, and hid himself. I couldn’t find the freaking traitor before I died. He’s hiding his face for a reason.”

Rhys didn’t really care anymore. If the stranger got him water, he couldn’t care less if the guy had betrayed Jack.

“What are you doing all the way out here?” the stranger asked. “The nearest town is in the opposite direction.”

“Got lost,” Rhys said.

“What a lame way to die,” he scoffed, then winced. “Uh, my bad, that was supposed to stay in my head. Things just slip out sometimes.”

Rhys shrugged weakly. He looked the stranger over, realizing that aside from the mask, he didn’t look like a typical bandit. He wore jeans, combat boots, a dirty T-shirt, and a brown and yellow jacket. Rhys had no idea how the man wasn’t roasting alive in his jacket.

Rhys thought he might’ve lost consciousness, because he found himself opening his eyes as someone pat his cheek. He tried to grumble out Jack’s name, but his throat was too painfully dry to manage it.

“Hey, up, Hyperion. I’m not generous very often.”

That tone that was Jack’s but not quite. If Jack spoke in a lighter tone, Rhys thought.

He managed to lift his head the slightest. The sight before him had him trying to pull himself forward.

“Whoa, easy, kiddo,” the stranger said, gripping the back of his vest. “Sit tight. I’ll get you some. You’ll get sick if you drink it too fast.”

“Rhysie, don’t drink anything he offers you,” Jack said sternly. “Either he’ll poison you, or you’ll owe him. I don’t know which is a worse fate.”

Rhys ignored that, eyes locked on the stranger as he knelt before the water sitting before them. He scooped some into a canteen, then came back to Rhys and gently tipped it into his mouth.

He refused to let Rhys chug the water. Instead, he made Rhys drink slowly, and take breaks when he stopped to refill it.

It took a few minutes, but Rhys felt much better as he drank more. He managed to sit up on his own, and the stranger trickled the water against the back of Rhys’s neck to help cool him off more.

“Better?” he said.

“So much better,” Rhys said, splashing the water onto his face. He looked up at the stranger, then looked to Jack, who was throwing a silent temper tantrum just a few feet away. “Uh...who are you?” 

“Just a bounty hunter,” the stranger said, sitting on a rock. “What were you doing out there?”

“We were on the run from Hyperion. I got separated from my friends.” Rhys hung his head a little. “They were heading to Hollow Point, but I’m, uh, lost. I don’t know how to get there. I don’t even know where I am.”

“I’ll get you there,” the stranger offered.

“No,” Jack snapped. “No, no way. He doesn’t do anything without incentive. This money-hungry bastard doesn’t do things out of the kindness of his cowardly heart.”

“What’s the catch?” Rhys asked warily.

The stranger cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. “Hyperion, huh? Do you have access to their secure files?”

“I can get it,” Rhys said, cautious now. “If I can get back to Helios, I can access certain secure files through hacking.”

“Alright. I’ll get you to Hollow Point and help you find your friends, and in exchange, you’ll check Hyperion’s secure files to see if they’re hunting someone down.”

“They better still be hunting him down!” Jack said furiously. “I put such a big price on his head. I couldn’t wait to strangle him myself. I might not have a body anymore, but I’ll think of something.”

“You?” Rhys said, ignoring Jack.

“Me,” the stranger confirmed. “Handsome Jack wasn’t exactly my biggest fan when he got himself killed. I just need to know if they cancelled the bounty he put on me. It gets hot wearing this stupid mask, but I can’t take it off if they’ve still got eyes out for me. I’ve got a scar that’s too noticeable, and Jack tossed it on the bounty report.”

“Ask him how he got the scar,” Jack said, hovering over the stranger now and glaring at him. “He screamed like a bitch the whole time. Freaking whined about how I blinded one of his eyes. I wish I’d done more.”

Rhys shuddered. The stranger stood up and held his hand out.

“Do we have a deal? I know my way around, and I’ve got contacts in Hollow Point that could help us find your friends,” he said. “In exchange, you just have to tell me if I’m in the clear or not.”

“Deal,” Rhys said, and Jack yelled out an impressive string of curse words. But what choice did Rhys have? He was hopelessly lost, and he couldn’t risk becoming dehydrated again. He needed help, and what the stranger was asking wasn’t too much. “I’m Rhys, by the way.”

The stranger pulled his hand away slowly, straightening up a little. When he spoke, he almost sounded like he was smiling.

“Alright, Rhys. I’m Timothy, and I’ll be your guide on this shithole planet.”

[stinkystark]

// A Lucky Mission // B.B

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Tony orders you and Bucky to go on a mission and undercover as a couple

Word count: +3K words

Warnings: cursing of course, shooting people

A/N: This took soooo long to write. This wasn't requested, but I wanted to write for Bucky for so long. He is so mysterious and all. I'm sorry that I haven't posted a fic in months. I hope I delivered with this. I didn't read it over so please tell me if there are any mistakes. Enjoy! <3

There was no doubt in saying that you and Bucky didn't get along great. Everyone on the team was sure of that after witnessing these arguments and fights between you two. Sometimes it was just peaceful bickering, but that would quickly turn into screaming and pushing.

You had no clue how it started. You met the guy when he was all winter soldier-ish and you kept your distance. However, when you thought that the two of you could become great teammates, it turned out that you didn't exactly like each other. He annoyed the crap out of you and probably the same reverse. He got on your nerves, too.

It wasn't often that you and Bucky were on a mission together. You had made it clear that you wanted to stay as far away from him as possible, and your teammates respected that. Well, up until they got sick of all the fights.

Tony had called you down to the meeting room. You were guessing it was for a mission. A few days had passed since you were on a big mission. You walked into the room where Tony sat on the table, Steve sat on a chair next to him and across sat the one and only, Bucky Barnes.

You groaned and closed the door behind you a bit harder then you intended. Bucky's head turned quick to look who came in and then groaned as well.

"You're here. Great." Tony said and gestured for you to sit down on a chair next to Bucky. You hesitated but sat down anyway. He sneakily kicked your foot, hard, underneath the table.

Tony spoke again before you were able to kick him back. "We have been notified of some issues in Russia. Some assassin bullshit's going on. You two need to pack your stuff and leave tonight at 8 for your flight, we've got a hotel room booked and you'll get furthur instructions when you're there. Clear?"

Fuck. On a mission with Bucky. That was about the last thing you were planning to do this week. "Exactly how long will we be in Russia?" You asked, one eyebrow raised.

"2 days." Tony said confidently.

"What? Are you kidding?" You looked from Tony to Steve, hoping to catch a sign that they were kidding with you. "This prick and I, together, for two days, on a mission? Together? Are you out of your mind?"

You heard a scoff to your right and really had to fight the urge to slap him. Steve finally opened his mouth to speak, getting your attention. "We know that this isn't ideal for the both of you, but we need the two of you specifically. Y/N, you are great, fantastic at acting and staying focussed while under pressure and Bucky is perfect for missions like this, being able to catch the guy we need. Besides, maybe you'll grow to like each other a bit more."

You had to laugh. "That'll never happen." You crossed your arms. Bucky spoke up for the first time you entered the room, too. "What do you need her to act for?" He questioned, eyebrows furrowed in thought. He bit his lip.

"Because..." Tony said, but trailed off. "Uhm, you have to go undercover." That wasn't so bad. Undercover missions were your favourite. "Undercover as a couple." Oh.

A shocked look formed on your face. Unbelievable. Bucky's mouth fell open in shock as well. "Are you joking?" You asked. "Oh god, this'll be the longest 2 days of my life."

You stood up abruptly, walking back out. Before you were completely out the door, you turned to Bucky. "Be on time or else I'll kick you out of the plane."

~~

You arrived at the hotel after a long flight and an hour of sitting in a taxi in a close proximity to Bucky. You haven't spoken a single word to each other the whole time. He sometimes glanced your way to give you a disgusted look, but that was it. You were very happy with that. You were planning on waiting as long as you could manage to speak.

Bucky swiped the card through the lock in the door and it opened with a click. He opened the door and walked in, dragging his luggage behind him. You placed your luggage besides the door and took a look around the room.

A nice, pretty cozy looking, seating area. The door to the bathroom. A soft, clean and freshly made bed, ready for you to jump into and sleep like a sloth. Wait, hold on one second. A bed. One bed. One bed for you and the asshole that was looking out of the window to check the view right now? Oh god.

"Hmm." You hummed carefully, not sure what to do or say, if anything at all. Bucky turned to look back at you and noticed you were staring intently at the bed. "Right." He muttered and went back to looking outside.

Your muscles were aching from sitting still in one position for so long. You grabbed a pillow from the bed and a blanket you had conveniently packed with you in case of emergencies, which was the case right now, and walked over to the small couch by the window.

Bucky looked confused. "What are you doing?"

"I'm putting a pillow and a blanket down on the couch, what else do you think I'm doing?" You remarked, rolling your eyes into oblivion.

"Yeah, but why are you doing that?" He asked, sounding irritated.

"Because I'll have to sleep somewhere." You answered while unfolding your soft blanket.

Bucky stood upright from leaning on the windowsill and looked at you sternly. "There's a bed right there, you know. Have you gone blind now?"

You huffed. "Of course there's a bed there, but I'm not sleeping in it." You said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Don't be childish. I'm sure I'll be able to keep my hands to myself, you know?" He snatched the pillow out of your grip and put it back on the bed. You watched him move intently. You couldn't trust him. You were sure you had to sleep with one eye open that night.

"Tony told me more about what we're supposed to do." He spoke in a rough voice. "Tomorrow night we are going to this fancy party hosted by some princess where our guys will be. They are planning to kill everyone there. We're going to talk to the main guy, make him our friend and then we'll get them."

You sighed. "Okay, then. Wait. Why are we here already when the job is tomorrow night? Did that prick really let us stay here longer than we were supposed to?" Tony was such an asshole.

"Yeah, probably." He huffed. "I'm taking that side." He pointed to the side of the bed that was closest to the large window, where the evening sky was casting an orange light into the room.

"Fine. I'm gonna go take a shower." You muttered. You wasted no time to get away from him and take a hot shower.

The hot water felt fantastic on your sore muscles. The sound of water hitting the bathroom floor sounded oddly relaxing. You rinsed the foam off of your body and turned the water off. You couldn't see shit because of the shampoo water in your eyes so you blindly reached for a towel. You touched the cold metal of the towel holder, but no fabric. Fuck.

You managed to wipe the shampoo out of your eyes with a face cloth and looked around, but couldn't see a towel anywhere. What kind of hotel is this?

"Hey, Bucky? Can you pass me a towel?" You yelled. You heard the sound of the television in the room. "Go get it yourself." He shouted back.

"I'm kind of naked, actually." You wanted to bang your head against the door.

"Go ahead."

You groaned. The asshole wasn't going to give you a towel, so you were going to have to get it yourself. You opened the door an inch. "Don't fucking look." You threatened him, but he just laughed.

Quickly, you ran out of the bathroom, dripping water on the carpet, and snatching a towel from a little table by the bed. You hurried to cover yourself with it and got back into the bathroom to dress yourself into some shorts and a tanktop.

Bucky didn't mention anything of seeing you naked when the two of you got under the covers for the night. He was being annoying as hell, taking all the blanket for himself. His cold foot grazed your leg and you had to kick him for it. It was a long night.

The next morning, you woke up later than Bucky. He was actually no where to be found. You didn't question it. He was probably out somewhere to find a Russian chick to bang. You stepped out of bed for a quick piss and get back in, but something caught your eye.

On the couch by the window was a dress. A long, tight, emerald green dress. You touched the soft fabric in awe. It was definitely the most beautiful dress you've ever seen.

You picked it up and held it in front of you by the long mirror when the door to the room opened. Bucky came in with a grocery bag.

"Oh right." He said when he saw you with the dress. "Tony gave you that. For the party."

You had to remember to thank Tony when you got back. This dress was a dream.

"I love it. Oh, you got breakfast?" You carefully placed the dress back on the couch and walked over to Bucky.

"I had no clue what all the Russian shit was but this looks like bread." He scoffed. You were starving. You grabbed the bread looking thing and took a bite before immediately spitting it out.

"Oh god, this is nasty and definitely not bread." You coughed, a look of disgust on your face.

"Didn't know you were a spitter." Bucky joked with a smirk on his face.

"Pig."

~~

It took a while to get ready. You had to look as fancy as possible. You were going to the most luxurious party ever. Even Bucky took some time to look good. He was wearing a black suit, all black. It was tight. You could see practically every muscle through it. His tie was emerald green to match your dress, which you had carefully put on. It wouldn't be Tony, however, if it wasn't a few sizes too small. Every curve you had was visible and your tits nearly fell out.

"Can't breath but whatever." You muttered more to yourself. You put a strand of hair in place and stood up, ready to go. "Let's do this. You got my gun?" You looked over at Bucky who was behind you, clearly staring at you.

"Uh, yeah. I'll keep it with me. I'm not sure you can fit any more in that tight thing." He said, shamelessly looking you up and down.

"Right. Let's go." You said, feeling very naked under his eyes.

It was a short ride in a big, shiny car to the palace. In the car, you and Bucky discussed your mission some more. Act like a couple, hold hands, smile, all that stuff. You weren't happy to do this with him, but you were determined to do your job like you were supposed to.

The party had just started and it was already in full swing. Very important business people from all around the world were there. Everyone was dressed in the most expensive dresses and suits. You felt very poor walking among these people. You had your arms linked with Bucky. A smile plastered on your lips.

You found a spot where you could see pretty much the whole area. "I'm happy to be here, babe." Bucky said, placing a hand on the small of your back. Damn. He played his roll really well. An unwanted blush painted your cheeks. "Me too... Baby." You couldn't help but feel like throwing up. It was a tingling in your stomach that made you want to run to the nearest bathroom.

A waiter walked over to you, a silver plate in his hands with glasses of champagne on it. You both took a glass and smiled at the man. Bucky placed his lips on the glass and spoke in a hushed voice that only you could hear. "I see him. Balding, late 40's, maffia looking guy." You carefully followed his gaze to a man of this description with a group of guys who looked equally as scary. Your heartbeat began to rise. Bucky noticed and rubbed his thumb on your back.

"He's been eying us ever since we got in." He whispered, only an inch from your ear. You could feel his hot breath, giving you goosebumps. "Pretend like I said something funny." You chuckled nervously and slapped his arm jokingly.

You sneaked a glance towards the man and noticed how intensely he was looking at you and Bucky and it scared the shit out of you. Bucky was tense. You could feel it. He moved his hand from your back to your face, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. He smiled at you but you saw the serious look in his eyes.

He licked his lips. His other hand rested on your hip. "Bucky, what are you doing?" You bit down on your lip. "Don't do that." He said in a low voice.

"Do what?" You blinked. He was so close to you that you could practically feel his muscles through his suit. "That." He said and pulled your lip out from your teeth with his thumb.

You saw him looking at the man from the corner of his eye, making you remember where you were and why. You sighed. "Buck, what do we do?" He looked back at you, from your eyes to your lips. Before you knew, he planted his lips right on yours. You were stunned. He kissed you so intensely, you were about to pass out.

He slowly pulled away from you. "Y/N, I'm sorry. I had to do it." He looked back to see the man had left. "Shit, come on. We have to go." He grabbed your wrist and pulled you with him in a hurry. Your mind was still clouded with what just happened but got brought back to reality when Bucky pushed your gun into your hands.

"You get his men, I get him." He said before running off. You cleared your throat and took off your heels before running to the back. Getting away from the crowd, you went through a door to the kitchens. A man with a giant gun was in front of you.

You aimed your gun at him. He did the same. "Now now, sweetheart." He said with a thick Russian accent. "You are clearly not made for this job. You would be a much better use on the streets." He laughed maniacally.

"I'll fucking shoot you." You threatened. He cocked his gun and walked towards you. "Fight me." He said. "Put the gun down and fight me."

You hesitated before lowering your gun, which he did too, and placing it on the floor. "You can't win from me in a fucking dress." He laughed.

One moment he was laughing, and the other he had your fist against his eye. He tumbled back before giving you a look of hatred and kicking you. The fight was on. You smacked him, kicked him, threw him around until he was finally unconscious. You sighed. There was blood gushing out of your nose, but you had to keep going.

When you took down all the other men, which was significantly more easy than the first guy, you went and found Bucky. He was in a fight with the main guy. He seemed to be in trouble. You grabbed your gun and shot at least four times until the man fell, bleeding, to the floor.

"Holy shit." Bucky panted. "Let's get out of here."

~~

You hurried into the hotel room, getting weird looks from strangers. Your dress was ripped everywhere and your nose was still bleeding. It made you feel dizzy. Bucky looked fairly unharmed while he helped you into the room.

"Don't get blood on the bed." He warned. You huffed.

You quickly got into the shower. The water turned pink from the blood. It was nasty. You felt sick, but the shower helped you clear your thoughts. But then the memory came back. The memory of Bucky kissing you. His hands on your hips. It felt so intense.

That evening, the two of you had gone to bed earlier. You were tired. The room was only slightly lit by the moonlight. Both you and Bucky were staring at the ceiling. You felt like you had to speak up, break the silence.

"Bucky." You said softly. "When you were talking to me at the party, before the fight..." you trailed off. He looked at you. "Why couldn't I bite my lip?" You asked shyly.

He hummed. "It was distracting."

"You kissing me was also distracting." You remarked. He let out a small chuckle.

"I know. We nearly let him escape." He said.

You sat up straight and looked back at him. "We? You kissed me. I don't know what you're talking about."

"You didn't kiss me back."

"I was shocked." You started to feel uncomfortable.

"I could tell." You could practically hear him smirk. "I could also tell that you liked it."

You turned around to face him, nearly touching his thigh with your leg. "Cocky bastard, I don't even like to go near you." You crossed your arms.

He sat up as well, sitting close to you. "I gotta say, you look really good naked." He said, referring to when he saw you running, naked, for your towel.

"I said don't look!" You slapped him peacefully, a blush on your cheeks.

"I couldn't help it." He placed his hand on your cheek. "I want you to kiss me back." His voice was rough.

You couldn't speak, only nod. He closed the space between you and you kissed back immediately. Passionate and intense. Your hand was in his hair, pulling slightly at the strands.

Now you certainly had to remember to thank Tony.

[moonlightsolo]

Bête Noire

summary: The resistance has unwillingly taken you under their wing. Now that you’re away from Kylo, will your Force connection remain intact? Hopefully Kylo will find a way to rescue you someway, somehow. 

pairing: kylo ren x reader

warnings: so many emotions

wc: 4k

a/n: wow i’m back from my hiatus and it feels pretty good to be writing for you guys again. thank you to those who stuck around and still continue to read my fic. i love and appreciate all of u so much. now this is getting way too long and sappy. go read :) 

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CHAPTER THIRTY

A tremble of the ship startles you as your body launches forward, sharply inhaling through your nose. Your head frantically turns as you look around, realizing that the outside the ship was no longer swirling or black with twinkling stars. It was white as it travels through the puffy turbulence-ridden clouds of an atmosphere on a planet.

In the seat next to you sat Poe, his sleeping face made you calm slightly. You looked at the pilots' seats to see Rey and Finn occupying them. They must have taken a shift to fly and let him rest. You lay back down across the hard seats, your eyes focusing on the metal ceiling above you.

Poe’s close proximity made you realize that you did miss him and his distinct smell of leather. Your eyelids start to get heavier again, but something whirs next to you. A series of soft beep sounds are close to your ear. It’s BB-8.

You gently peek your eyes open to see the orange and white droid, a small smile forming in your lips. “Hi, buddy.” You yawn as the droid says that it missed you, and Poe did too. “I missed you guys too.” You couldn’t help but reply. It was somewhat true, of course, but your heart will always remain with Kylo.

BB-8 bids their goodbye as it rolls away into the back of the ship, leaving you to close your eyes again. “You missed me too, huh?” Poe’s groggy voice spoke, making your eyes reopen as you looked up at him.

You’re surprised, happy, nervous. So many mixed emotions emitting from your brain. You didn’t know what to say. “You look shocked. Are you okay?” He asks as he stretches his body then he reaches toward you. “I really did miss you.” His pearly smile was wide. His hand gently reached out to pull you into a hug.

He engulfed you in his arms, one of his hands going to the back of your head to cradle you. For some reason, emotions washed over you like a tidal wave. You began to silently cry against the shoulder of his uniform, your shoulders quivering, “Shhh. It’s okay, it’s okay.” He attempts to calm you, his hand gently smoothing down your barely tied back hair.

He took a deep breath before pulling away, “Finn told me what happened. I didn’t expect her to take you. I thought you were coming willingly. If I was there, I wouldn’t have let it happen.” He shook his head disappointedly, “Even if it would’ve hurt me to let you stay.” He mumbled, his eyes falling.

“But you were the one carrying me onto the ship?” You questioned, your eyebrows wrinkling in the middle. “They were shooting at us and at you. I had to bring you onto the ship for your own well-being.” He sighs and you just nod. That makes sense.

The ship shakes as it drops below the clouds, the snowy mountainous landscape coming into view. Your mouth fell open, you’ve never seen snow before. “We’ve been taking refuge on Hoth in an old base, it’s cold but we’re surviving.” Poe smiles.

The ship nears the face of an icy mountain. You brace for impact but a large hole opens, snow falling on the ship as it gently glides it into the hidden hangar. There are crew members working, sparks flying from some machinery. A group of people is gathered to the side to watch the ship land, waiting for everyone to exit.

The ship's door drops open, creaking as it nears the floor to create a ramp. The soldiers walk out first, waving as some people cheer in the crowd. You stay seated, not wanting to leave yet.

Rey clicks off some buttons, the sound of the engine fades as it powers down. The injured is next, some people had an arm sling on as they walk out from the back of the ship. You noticed bandages on people’s heads and legs too, some limping. Kaydel comes up behind Poe, her hand rests on his shoulder. His hand goes up to rest on hers.

Rey and Finn leave next, unbuckling from their seats. Finn smiles at you, but Rey completely ignores that you’re there. She speedily exits the ship towards the crowd of people. “She’ll come to...” Finn says with a one-sided smile as he walks off. Your eyes watch as he jogs to see Rose and instantly he kisses her and lifts her up from the ground. Aw, they must be official now.

You look around the ship to see that it’s almost empty; only Poe, Kaydel, BB-8 and you are left. Poe says something to the droid but it fell deaf to your ears as you stare into the crowd. Your eyes swim through the people, your ears ignoring everything that Poe is saying to you. The Force is calling out to you.

He stood up next to you to try and get your attention. His hand goes to your shoulder to attempt to shake you back to reality but you quickly stand to your feet and storm off of the ship.

You focus in on wherever your feet are taking you, your skin burning with anxiety. It’s Leia. You need to let her know what happened with Rey. You have to.

You can hear Poe yelling your name as he jogs after you, he’s scared. You feed off of his fear by picking up your speed as you run towards her. “Stop!” Poe and Kaydel scream at you. They think you’re going to hurt Leia. You can just feel it.

You continue to push through the crowd, some people staring and grumbling as you make them stumble. You finally see her and Rey is already talking to her. You can still faintly hear Poe screaming your name as he loses you in the crowd. You have no idea how you were guided to this specific spot. When she turns around, her face softens at the sight of you. Her hand reaches for you but before you could take a step forward, your legs defy you. As Poe reaches for you, his eyes widen as you fall. Your knees collide with the hard, cold ground. You’re a weeping mess, not caring that people are looking at you.

Leia dismisses everyone sternly, but Finn sticks around and sends Rose on her way to celebrate with everyone else. Poe bends down, his arm going to wrap around your shoulders to comfort you but you pull away. “Get off of me. I could feel how scared you were. I wasn’t going to hurt Leia.” Your eyes blinded by tears, “No just let me explain-“ You cut him off, “Just go.” You let out an almost animalistic growl. Leia’s hand hesitatingly touches your shoulder to try and console you.

“Poe, I have this under control.” Leia bends down slightly to pull you up into an embrace. You lean into her motherly touch, almost instantly you begin to feel yourself calm down. You inhale through your nose to sniffle as you wipe your wet cheeks off, “Just because I was with the First Order, doesn’t mean I’m a horrible person.” You croak out.

“I don’t think that of you. Although I can’t control what other people think but only you can control how you feel.” Her words resonate in your head.

“Let’s go somewhere more private so we can talk.” Leia glances over at Finn to come over. He gently hooks his arm around your waist for support and gives you a welcoming, warm squeeze.

Once you make it to Leia’s dwellings, he sits you down on a plush couch. Your hands gently spread over the fabric as Leia sits in the chair in front of you. As soon as Finn leaves, your thoughts begin to spew from your mouth. “Nobody trusts me. Yes, I was with the First Order. I turned to the dark side but I still have light in me.” You take a deep breath before continuing, “But so does Rey. She’s dark too. She’s selfish and so cruel. She’s a hypocrite.” You sniffle, your face going into your hands.

Leia’s facial features scrunch up in confusion, “Why?” She simply questions you. “Why?” You practically laugh, “Because she took me. She took me from him. I wanted to stay. I decided that our child needs to be with their father. She used the Force on me to make me unconscious!” Your hands go up in the air in frustration, tears brimming your eyes again.

“Goodness.” She shook her head, one of her hands rubbing her forehead. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t come near you for a while. You shouldn’t go near her either. I will talk to her.” She sighed.

“I want you to know that we’re all here for you.” She trails off, “I only told Rey and Finn about your pregnancy. I felt like you should tell Poe on your own terms. I don’t know how he will react, but he can never be mad at you for too long.” She smiles reassuringly, “Just tell him before you become too noticeable, okay?” She gets up and outreaches her hand and you take it. “Let’s get you to where you’ll be staying.”

-

“So this is your room. This is mine. The bathroom is the door in the middle.” Poe points to the correct doors as you look around curiously. There’s a desk in the living area and a little place for BB-8 to power up. Also, an itchy handwoven rug laying on the concrete. Poe walks to your door to open it, “It’s a little boring. Just a bed, a dresser and a small table next to your bed.” Poe shrugs, “I have the same exact thing, mine is just a little uh... worn in. Oh, and you have a bathroom connected to yours? Lucky.” He chuckles awkwardly.

You turn your head around to see Kaydel and Leia talking out in the living area, it seems kind of heated. “Thank you for letting me be your roommate.” You send a small smile towards him. “Oh yeah, no problem. I just want you to be comfortable.” He shrugs with a grin. “I didn’t want you to be sent into a room full of strangers, ya know?” You just nod in response as you walk into your room. You plop onto the bed, “It’s actually quite comfortable.” You laugh, not expecting it. Poe nods with a laugh, “Yep. The beds are the only things here that aren’t frozen.” His voice has a joking tone to it. You can’t help but giggle.

Kaydel comes and shuts down the mood in the room, “Goodnight.” She simply says to Poe, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips, his hand intertwining with hers. You look away to give them their privacy, but you can’t help but notice how Poes' hand slowly slips out of hers as she walks away. “Goodnight,” Poe says after a moment with a smile before walking out of the doorway. Leia replaces him, “Have a good night. Sleep well.” Her hand grabs the doorknob to close the door. You’re alone once again. You can’t help but grip Kylo’s tunic wrapped around your neck as you fall asleep that night.

-

A week goes by while you‘ve been with the Resistance. Leia assigned you some jobs around the base to help Finn out with cleaning all the weapons and helping Poe with ship maintenance.

You’ve gotten into a steady routine. When you wake up, you take a shower and get dressed. Then you go to the cafeteria to eat breakfast with Poe, Kaydel and their friends. They aren’t exactly people you’d hang out with, but it is definitely a change from the stormtroopers. After eating, you meet with Finn to help him out with the weaponry stock then you go eat lunch. But if you finish early, you go back to your room and usually, you’ll nap. Once you eat lunch, you go with Poe to help him with the ships and droids. But today is a little different.

After you finish your ‘chores’ with Poe, he tells you to head to get some dinner without him. You shrug it off as you make your way to the cafe to eat. It’s really not as good as the First Orders food. You eat your supper with Finn, Rose, and Chewie today. When you finish early, Finn offers to walk you back to your room but you decline him nicely. “Thank you, but I’m tired anyways.”

As you walk back, it is quite busy in the halls but when you get the living quarters, it’s quiet. When you walk in the door, you don’t expect to see what is right in front of you. Poe and Kaydel in the desk chair, heavily making out. You shield your eyes as you walk past them quickly to your bedroom door. You open it with the Force and close it a bit too harshly with a clench of your fist. You can hear them talking and shuffling around outside, then the front door slams shut.

You wince as you lay on your bed, letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. There’s a hesitant knock on your door then it opens. “Hey, uh, I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t expect you to be back so soon.” He clears his throat, “Mm, It’s okay.” You mumble into your pillow, your eyes closed but you end up opening them to see him standing there awkwardly. It makes you laugh.

“What?” He questions, his face crinkling up. “You just look funny standing there. It’s not like I walked in on you guys naked.” You shrug it off like nothing, “I was just surprised that’s all.” You turn on your back to look at him. You pat the empty spot on your bed, he walks up to sit down on it next to you. “Do it in your room next time.” You whisper playfully, your eyes looking up at the gray ceiling. You can feel him staring at you.

“What?” You mock him as you look at Poe, his face flushes for a moment but he remains eye contact with you. “Nothing. Sometimes I just get a little nostalgic.” He shrugs, “We went through so much back then.” He laughs, “It feels too calm. Just to see you here relaxing, we’re not stressing about being brutally murdered.” His sentence makes you laugh. It’s definitely true. He scoots next to you on the small bed, laying on his side facing you. You turn on your side to face him with a smile on your lips.

For a moment, you feel like you’re swept back in time. You know he feels it too. Tension grows between the empty space of your bodies, a need to be closer to him. Before your faces get too close together you interrupt him.

“I need to talk to you.” You blurt, not wanting to feel this magnetic pull to him anymore. “Oh okay... What is it?” He asks, his voice sounds a bit bummed.

You decide to just be straightforward, “I’m pregnant.” You blurt out, instantly making his eyes widen in shock. “What?” He asks, sitting upon his knees in front of you. “With who’s baby?” He knows who the father is. His face pales when he realizes, “Him?” He asks sadly, his shoulders falling.

You sit up too, moving your back against the headboard. “Yes... I’m sorry...” You sniffle, letting your built-up emotions loose. You put your head in your hands as you feel embarrassed and ashamed.

“There is no reason for you to be sorry. It’s really not your fault.” Poe sighs, his hands resting on your thighs. “I’m sorry for making it seem like you need to apologize.” He sighs again, biting his lip as he pulls your hands away from your face.

“I’m not mad. I’ll help you with anything you need, want... Anything. Just call for me and I’m there.” He says with true meaning to his words then climbs off of the bed carefully. “Get some rest. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.” You nod, bidding him goodnight before you get up to change into your pajamas.

-

Even in the frigid temperature, sweat builds up on your forehead as you toss underneath the thick bed sheets. Your eyes shoot open suddenly, losing your breath as you sit up in bed. You lean against the cold wall behind you as you tie your hair on top of your head. Something unknown is telling you in your gut that someone is watching you. Slowly, you peek an eye open and see nothing. You look around, completely missing the dark shadow in the corner.

For a second, you think it’s your brain playing tricks on you. When your eyes go back to that corner, you see him. You let out a yelp, pulling the blankets over your head. Kylo’s body evidently twitches when you made that noise. You pull the blankets away from your face to peek out. He is still standing there in the corner with his arms crossed. His index finger going over his lips to shush you. “What is going on?” You whisper yell at him.

Before he could answer, Poe comes running into the room, the light turning on. “Hey, are you okay?” He’s clothed in a sweatshirt, sweatpants, and socks; obviously cold.

You look over at Poe, then at the corner again. From his point of view, it’s empty. “What?” His eyes go to the corner and back to you.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You dismiss him, gulping as his eyes look around. “Okay..?” He doesn’t believe you but he leaves you alone and closes the door.

You let out the breath you were holding, turning your attention to Kylo Ren. “What is he doing here?” He’s mad. “Don’t worry.” You scoff, not realizing Poe had opened the door and was staring at you talking to the wall.

Kylo motions towards the door with a flick of his head, your eyes trailing to Poe who has wide eyes. “What’s going on?” Poe’s voice is shaky. “Nothing.” You slip out of bed, you shiver from the cold floor. “I said I was fine, please go.” You gently coax him out of the doorway and close the door with the Force as you walk towards Kylo. His onyx eyes soften as you near closer to him.

“I can feel you’re not truly happy here. Come back to me.“ You notice that his gloves are off of his hands, you can see his swollen veins underneath his porcelain skin. Your eyes burn with tears threatening to spill over onto your flushed cheeks. His hand's outreach for you to take them, you battle yourself. “I can feel the light in you but you are so much more powerful by my side.” His deep voice rumbles.

As gentle as you would touch the glass, you slip your hands into his. A soft relieved sigh leaves his lips, it’s like he’s there with you. His warmth, the pulse in his wrist pumping against your fingertips. His nimble fingers wrap around your wrists. “I don’t know how to get to you from here.” You mumble, “I hope this isn’t a hallucination or something.” You sigh into the air as he pulls you into an embrace. You let out a relieved sigh as you curl your head under his chin, realizing how badly you miss him.

The pressure of his arms being wrapped around you disappears, making you fall forward since he isn’t supporting you anymore. You gasp as you fall on all fours, there are definitely going to be bruises there in the morning.

You let out a guttural sob, the door to your bedroom swings back open as Poe rushes in, confused by your heart-wrenching cries. His arms cradle around your body, pulling you into his chest to soothe you. His face is furrowed in confusion but he has a feeling it has to do with Kylo. He gently pulls your body from the cold floor and into the bed.

Tears continue to fall from your eyes even after you’ve calmed down, snot and tears all over his and your own shirt. Poe has his arm wrapped around you as he cuddled with you. He was on top of the blankets while you were underneath, he didn’t want to get too close and you don’t blame him.

He asked you questions but you just gave him a shake or nod of your head to answer, not trusting your own voice just yet. Soon, you fell asleep as did Poe. It was comfortable, warm and welcoming.

-

The next morning, you wake up slightly more refreshed than you thought you would be. You believed that you‘d be groggy and exhausted. Carefully, you unwrapped yourself from Poe’s arms and went to go take a shower.

When you were done, you walk into your room with a towel wrapped around your body and one wrapped in your hair. As you’re about to grab clothes to get dressed in the bathroom, the bed squeaks. His morning voice calls out your name. You look behind you as his eyes open, then they widen when he sees you in a towel. “I see you were up bright and early.” He chuckled as he stretched his limbs, making a weird noise. You just laughed, “I’m gonna get dressed. You should too.” You said while you walked into the bathroom. 

Once you were completely ready, you walked out of the bathroom to see Poe sitting on your bed but he was dressed. “Come on slowpoke. I’m hungry. Let’s go get breakfast.” You smile at his words, rolling your eyes playfully as you follow him to the cafeteria.

As you sit down across from Poe with your food, Kaydel sits down next to him. He plants a kiss on her cheek which makes you smile slightly and look down at your food as you eat it.

Rey sat down next to you and starts some small talk with everyone at the table, you joined in on the conversation. Suddenly, everything around you went silent but everyone is still moving and talking. A gradual ringing starts in your ears as your eyes dart around, panic settling in your chest as it gets louder.

Poe notices how your chest is rising and falling, his large smile slowly starts to turn into a concerned look. His mouth was saying your name but you couldn’t hear it. You stand up as quick as possible, running out of the cafeteria with your hands on your ears. You press your back against the wall, sliding down it until your bottom hits the floor. “Stop it!” You whispered to yourself.

Rey and Poe come around the corner, her eyes widening when she saw you cowered into a ball. Her words fall deaf to your ears but you try to read her lips, “Calm down. Meditate. Take deep breaths.” She says. You slowly take deep breaths, focusing on your energy. Your hearing slowly starts to come back and Rey stands up from her spot next to you.

You take a deep breath as the Force buzzes through your body, gently pulling you up from the floor. Rey gently says your name, but her voice seems hesitant— almost scared. You open your eyes, realizing that you’re floating above the floor. You quickly drop, your body falling back into the wall. The last time you did that was when you broadcasted yourself to find Leia on D’Qar.

Rey’s eyes are wide, her lips slightly parted in surprise or maybe it’s fear, “How did you do that?”

-

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[gaycrouton]

A Collection of Constants

msr / collection of drabbles / multi-season

This work is a huge, belated thank you to the wonderful Don'tPanicFace who was so, so, so kind to me at X-Fest! So sorry it's so late, but I hope you enjoy it and I am oh so thankful. I also went a slightly weird way with the prompt, but I hope you'll like it! Prompt: "Mulder once told Scully he liked her freckles as she was covering them with makeup, & she scoffed. He said he loved every single one, & it became a thing that he's cataloguing all the freckles on her body."

2016

“You have some new ones,” he stated, the sentence tumbling from his lips without a second thought as he watched her work. His case report on the Man-Lizard (formerly titled Lizard-Man) laid unfinished in front of him as his eyes wandered to their favorite destination.

“Hmm?” she replied from the back of her throat, not bothering to look up.

Her suit jacket had long been discarded to the seat behind her and her bare arms rested gracefully on the desk in front of her. Even from here, even with his bad eyesight, he saw a few new tan freckles littering her arms, kissing the skin gently like he had all those years ago. 

“You have new freckles on your arm,” he murmured, leaning forward to tap her arm in four different places all while lingering a beat longer than necessary.

Either the touch or its duration caused her to look up at him with a raised eyebrow as she looked back down at her arm. “I don’t know,” she shrugged, passing it off as a question when they both knew it wasn’t.

“No, you do. I’m certain,” he teased, pointing to two more on her other arm.

“Mulder,” she replied sternly, her voice a gentle warning to knock it off.

It wasn’t that she was ignoring their prior relationship, no - but every time he made a referential comment or innuendo, she put her walls back up. In his worst moments, he feared it was her wanting to shut him down before he could get his hopes up for a relationship she had no interest in rekindling. In his best moments, he thought she didn’t want to get her hopes up that he was better only to be let down. 

But he was better. Is better. And he was going to do everything he could to let her know that.

He’d spent years gaining Scully’s trust, her faith in him - in them.

He raised his hands in gentle concession. He’d listen better this time around. He gave her a small smile as he scooted forward towards his desk, picked up a discarded pencil, and started working. 

1995

It was a beauty mark.

What made a beauty mark different than a mole, he wasn’t necessarily sure, but what he did know was that impromptu shower in the high school gymnasium took off her usual cover up and revealed a light brown spot on her upper lip.

He’d suspected probably everything under the sun: a raised bump, freckle, a mole, a patch of dry skin that caught her foundation, he’d even considered it was a beauty mark, but he couldn’t guess why she’d cover it up.

They always say that near-death experiences make you grateful for the little things you take for granted, and right now he was irrationally relieved he lived through an attempted sacrifice at the hands of crazy cultists to finally find out what was on her lip.

“Mulder, why do you keep staring at me?” she asked, running her hands over her damp hair for the umpteenth time as if that alone would prevent the curls in her hair from fully forming. 

“I like your beauty mark,” he replied, lifting his hand and gesturing to her lip, resisting the urge to let his finger graze it.

She touched it in his place with the slight roll of her eyes. “Thanks,” she muttered with sarcastic enthusiasm.

“What, don’t you like it?” he asked, his brows furrowing. 

The flashes of crime scene cameras followed by their gentle whirrs created a strange juxtaposition to their mundane conversation, but Scully didn’t seem to be put off by his line of questioning and he figured she was grateful for the respite from the events of the night. “I just always have,” she shrugged, pursing her lips.

“Marilyn Monroe had one,” he offered. 

“On her cheek,” Scully corrected.

“Cindy Crawford has one on her upper lip. I think Madonna has one right where you do.”

Scully looked at him with a cocked eyebrow and he realized his attempt to make her feel better may not have been working as he’d hoped. “You sure seem to know a lot about beauty marks,” she deadpanned.

He shrugged self consciously and emitted a half-hearted chuckle. “I think they’re called beauty marks for a reason.”

She smirked for half a second before suppressing it. “I’ve always been told it looks too big for my face,” she admitted honestly.

“They were wrong.”

1997

It wasn’t like he’d never seen them before. The makeup she used might’ve boasted ‘24 Hour, long lasting, Smudge-proof wearability’, but a day in the life of Scully and a day in the life of the average Covergirl consumer were vastly different. Sometimes he’d catch her in her motel room after she’d washed her face and it was adorned with more freckles than normal. Sometimes he’d wait to say goodnight to her just in the hopes of catching a glimpse of them.

Now, he could see them all on display as she lay bare-faced and sleeping in the hospital bed. He couldn’t see himself, but he knew his face was blotchy and red, as if he’d absorbed all the color the cancer had taken from her.

His knees ached from kneeling on the hospital floor next to her, but this was a vigil he couldn’t find the heart to move from. She still hadn’t woken up, despite his sobbing right next to her for the better part of an hour. Probably a result of the heavy meds they were using to keep her free from pain, to make this all easier for her.

He felt a fresh wave of tears sting his eyes, and he looked upwards towards the ceiling to blink them away. He felt like he was trying to swallow a rock, but he didn’t want to wake her on accident. He’d rather be careful than acknowledge it’d take a lot to wake her up now. 

He sniffed as quietly as he could and looked back down at Scully. Her small frame was lit up by the moonlight streaming in through the blinds. Her dainty hand was still in his, next to the slowly evaporating, large wet spot where his face had just lain.

The occasional flickering behind her eyelids and the gentle rise and fall of her ribs were his only indication she was alive. She is alive. His throat tightened back up as the world blurred. 

Figuring it was a fruitless effort, he let the tears fall down his cheeks as he stared at the ghostly white version of the face he’d been looking at for four years. He let out a small breath through barely opened lips as his eyes caught sight of her uncovered beauty mark, now darker against her alabaster skin. 

There was another, much smaller, dot on her cheek - a dark freckle normally covered up by makeup, she had another prominent one on her forehead near her hairline, but without a doubt, she had the most on the bridge of her nose. Some of those were so close they almost became an indistinguishable clump of amber.

Eighty eight, that he could count, of course. And that was just on her face. Some of them were chocolate brown, others were a faint tan color, imperceivably different than her skin. He was certain that he’d seen more during their summer cases when she valued sunscreen over moisturizer and the sun had darkened them. 

His face was still hot, there was still the uncomfortable pressure at the front of his face, but the tear tracks had finally dried. The rhythmic counting of her freckles had acted like a gentle metronome to center him. He had no idea what to do, but he had a mental map of all the small details of her face, and just that soothed him ever so slightly. Even in her sleep, she could still comfort him. 

Letting go of her hand as gently as he could, he stood upright on sore legs and roughly wiped his face with the palms of his hands.

He had work to do. He had to fix this.

1999

He was bolder. They both were. This thing between them didn’t have a name, but it had a feeling. A feeling of melancholy when Friday rolled around and they hadn’t made plans yet, the prospect of a weekend without the other sounding suspiciously miserable for two coworkers. A feeling of butterflies when “Hey it’s me” was followed by “Do you want to come over?” A feeling of intense longing when body heat was shared from sitting too close on a couch. A feeling that it still wasn’t close enough.

While she was a bit bolder in physical touch, he was a bit more blunt with his words. 

“Why do you cover up your freckles?” he asked one morning when she was doing her makeup in a motel mirror. That was new too. He’d get up early just for the chance to sit on her bed and watch as she did her morning routine, usually under the guise of bringing her coffee and then overstaying his welcome. 

She turned to look at him, face still bare minus the sheen of makeup being applied to her skin. “I like them,” he followed up, seeing a few of them peeking out in areas she hadn’t covered yet.

She scoffed goodnaturedly before returning to the mirror, rubbing circles against the skin of her face. “Did you know people are less likely to take women with freckles seriously than those without?” she asked.

His brow furrowed as he tried to recollect the women in his life who had freckles. She took his silence as a ‘no’ and continued, “It makes women look young. Men don’t take young women seriously. I work in two male dominated fields, and with my freckles I look like a co-ed. Consequently, I cover them up.”

“That’s a shame,” he murmured honestly. She looked back over at him as she picked up a brown tube of eyeliner, shrugging her shoulders as if it was just something she’d come to accept. “I love every single one of them,” he smiled at her.

She looked down as the corners of her mouth quirked up. Even through the layer of makeup, he could still see her turning pink.

“Thanks, Mulder.”

He knew the thing between them wasn’t really nameless. It started with L, ended with E, and had a lot of fear in between. But he’d conquered much scarier things with Scully by his side before.

2000

Two on her left shoulder blade.

One on mid-back.

Two on her lower-back.

Three on her breasts.

One on her abdomen.

One on her outer labia lip.

He got a little distracted after that, but just like the sentiment Scully had been screaming, he knew there were more.

His hands were on her warm back as she raised up and down in time with his breathing, her own even breaths coming out hot on the skin of his neck. “The freckles on your back look like Cassiopeia,” he murmured, running his hand up and down her spine. 

“We tried a new position and you were staring at my freckles?” she teased, his theory she was falling asleep evident in her tone.

“I was staring at a lot of things, Scully,” he cooed in reassurance. As he said this he let his hand slide further down her spine so he could cup her left cheek. His spent member stirring ever so slightly inside of her.

She laughed lightly and he could feel her roll her eyes. “You’re insatiable,” she murmured.

“I think I could say the same about you,” he laughed, looking at the discarded shirt on her vanity that was now missing several buttons. He felt her nuzzle impossibly closer to him, her breast plastered to his bare chest, and it made a smile spread across his face. This was real. The warmth of her skin and the smell of sex still lingering in the air was proof enough.

He raised his hand back up the slope of her spine as he moved to press his index finger into the top freckle on her shoulder-blade, tracing a delicate line to the next until he’d created a connect-the-dot pattern on her back from memory.

“Was tha’ Cassio-peia?” she mumbled, barely clinging onto consciousness.

He gently grabbed the quilt tangled at his side and spread it out on top of them the best he could without jostling her, earning a contented hum.

Crunching his neck upwards, he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and whispered, “Yes. Cassiopeia, the Queen.”

There was no response as her breathing evened out completely. Enjoying the weight of her on his chest, he smiled sweetly to himself. He’d spent years trying to find answers in the stars and now he had a constellation lying in his arms. 

2001

“I have to be honest, I was really expecting a head of bright red hair,” he whispered, not wanting to wake the newborn on his chest. 

Scully was reclined next to him, propping herself up on an elbow to look at her boys. “He looks like his dad,” she murmured with a smile, a playful twinkle in her eyes. 

“Is that why he doesn’t have any freckles?” he asked, stroking the few brown hairs on the baby’s head into a mohawk.

Scully laughed softly at his attempt and answered, “No, he doesn’t have freckles because freckles don’t develop until the ages two to four.”

“I bet his first one will be right here,” he whispered, faintly pointing to the upper bridge of his William’s little nose.

Scully rolled her eyes, but played along nonetheless. “I’ll place my bets here,” she replied, pointing to William’s cheek, indulging just a little to stroke the soft skin.

“Oh really?” Mulder challenged playfully.

She nodded before leaning closer to him. “Like I said, he looks like his dad,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his own light beauty mark laid against his stubble.

His cheek pressed against her lips as he smiled, and he turned to catch her lips instead. This was what serenity felt like. 

“I don’t know, Scully. The piercing blue eyes, the fact he willingly wants to be near me. Those traits alone make him unquestionably Scully,” he explained.

She closed her eyes and let out a little exhale laugh through her nose before scooting even closer to him, laying flush to his side as they both stared at the little sleeping baby. “Just wait, he’s going to be towering over me spouting off conspiracy theories in no time,” she replied wistfully.

2002

“Do you know what that is, Gibson?” Mulder asked, pointing up towards the night sky. He’d been upset with himself all day and he finally convinced himself to go outside for some fresh air.

Dearest Dana.

He’d most likely put his family in danger because he couldn’t contain how much he missed them. Gibson let him go through his miscellaneous magazines and he’d come across an old “Best of the 80s” edition of Rolling Stone. He went from blissfully distracted with a Bob Dylan feature to feeling the wind knocked out of him with a picture of Madonna from her “Like a Virgin” days.

A beauty mark on the upper lip. 

She was everywhere.

“It’s Cassiopeia,” Gibson replied immediately.

Mulder glanced over at the kid who was drawing in the sand with a stick, focused on his task. “Did you actually know that or did you hear me?”

“You’ve thought about it a lot. This is the first time I’ve seen it in the sky though,” he replied pointedly.

Mulder cringed in embarrassment that wouldn’t ease no matter how many times it happened. “Sorry.”

A silence fell between them as Mulder looked back up, his eyes going to every individual star that comprised the constellation. “You’re doing it again,” Gibson muttered.

He let out a long sigh and looked at Gibson. Most middle school boy’s experience with the female form came from Playboy or Penthouse, but Gibson now unfortunately had his classmates beat, all thanks to Mulder. “Would you mind…” he trailed off, looking back to the opening of their hideout.

“Sure,” he agreed, letting the stick fall soundlessly to the ground as he turned to walk away. Mulder heard the sounds of him walking, but stopping short of the door. “It was just an email. I doubt we can be found just through that alone. Besides, I bet it meant a whole lot to her.”

He’d long learned it was useless to placate the boy by trying to agree when his heart wasn’t in it. He respected him more than that. All he could offer was a small smile and a thanks, which Gibson reciprocated in kind.

Turning back to the sky, he was reminded of his own queen. Was she safe? Was William safe? Was this as hard for her as it was for him?

He knew it was. He just hoped this was all worth it in the end.

2003

“This one is my favorite,” he murmured, kissing the crook where her neck met her shoulder.

She let out a breathy, shaky laugh as she trembled in his arms. He’d spent the better part of an hour trying to find every single freckle and mark on her body. He hadn’t taken the time to do this inventory before, and it pained him immensely while they were apart. He wouldn’t take it for granted again. He wanted to know every intimate, minute detail of Scully’s body.

She was giggling when he started the journey with his fingers, but the giggling died down when he started using his mouth. Now she had the motel bedsheets in a white knuckle grip as she lay naked with him hovering above her. “Oh really?” she panted, not succeeding in feigning interest in discussion that didn’t pertain to her impending orgasm.

“And I like this one,” he murmured, suckling the one on the underside of her left breast. 

She gently arched upwards, making the skin of their lower abdomens rub against each other. He gasped with a laugh and moved down. “And I like this one,” he repeated, licking the two freckles on her prominent hip bone lightly.

“More,” she whispered breathlessly.

“This one,” the words tumbled from his mouth as he scooted backwards so he could kiss her inner thigh with ease.

She took her turn moving on the bed and readjusted herself so that it was her dripping arousal in his face instead of her thigh. Point taken.

“Especially this one,” he growled, using his thumb to press onto the labia freckle while his mouth went straight to her clit.

She seemed to like that one too.

2018

He could look now. 

When he’d mentioned a few new markings on her arms after the Guy Mann case, he’d been shut down. Now, he felt empowered. The same serotonin rush he would get all those years ago when she’d coyly accept his invitation to his apartment was back in full swing. 

She was still nervous, he could tell that from the way she seemed to get quiet after indulging in an overly intimate comment. As if she was reflecting on if she should or shouldn’t have said it. But it was different than it was when they first started working on X-Files again. The trepidation had been replaced with something that looked like hope. It was an expression he was all too familiar with as he saw it every time he looked in the mirror. 

He’d never press her too much - the best things in life come to those who wait, and he’d wait an eternity if that meant he could spend his life with her. She’d made the first move then, and he’d correctly suspected she’d make the first move again. 

Last night the fantasy he’d been playing in his head for the past four years fantasizing about finally became real. The fact it was technically fraternizing on the job was just an added bonus. It hadn’t been exactly how he’d dreamed; he didn’t get to say all the sentiments on his mind, the lights were off, and he had to leave in fear in the middle of the night instead of waking up with her in his arms. But she had given him hope.

Come back to bed.

And less than 24 hours later, they were back in bed. Though sleeping was the last thing on either of their minds.

He’d always loved unwrapping presents. Ribbons, bright colored paper, the buttons of silk blouses - whatever it may be, as long as it came from Scully, always brought a smile to his face. 

“What?” she asked with a breathy smile. 

“I wasn’t able to see all the new freckles you had last night, it was too dark,” he stated with a grin.

She rolled her eyes and laughed at the enthusiasm in his voice. “Are you going to do that thing with your mouth again, because I think I have too many for that now,” she laughed.

“Is that a challenge?” he murmured before sucking on the bend of her neck. 

She was silent for a moment, shifting under him in an effort to rub against his appreciation for her. After a beat, she answered in a playful and lust filled tone, “Yes. It is.”

[un-piorthos-et-tous-pour-un]

The thrilling adventures of a PA - Chapter Three : One step forward, two steps back (Adam Sackler x Reader)

Time does fly sometimes you think as you’re walking to Adam’s trailer with the lunch you ordered for the both of you at his request. According to the schedule, today was really a light day, he only had 2 scenes to shoot and they were supposed to be shot at dusk. It’s been 2 months now since you started the job and you knew what it meant for him to have to wait that long without having anything to do. You even suspected at one point he had ADHD but no, it was just how he was. How he came to be with everything that happened to him more precisely. Both of you had plenty of time to chat in between takes so you learned a bit about him as much as he learned about you. You liked that in fact, bonding like this, gradually but equally. it wasn’t all you talking and him listening or the other way around, no. He told you something and some other time or right after, you’d answer back. You knock on the door like you always do, letting him know it’s you behind that door & you let yourself in without waiting for any invitation since he’s expecting you.

- “Room service”, you joyfully announce, plates in one hand as the other closes the door behind you. As you turn around, you’re greeted by a small smile. He seems a bit tired by the look of it but you don’t mention it, no need to rub that one in. You lay the plates on the counter and take out the dishes from the cupboard. Yeah, you know where is everything by now, spending so much time in here explains it. Adam doesn’t mind or at least he doesn”t say anything about it. Maybe he even likes it, you suspect because he avoids keeping to himself like he does with the others. - “It smells fucking amazing”, he lets out as he’s approaching, taking the plates from your hands to set the table. “Thanks for that, I really didn’t want to go out on the canteen today.” - “No problem, you bought me lunch, I couldn’t say I wouldn’t do it. Plus, it’s still part of my job, remember ? You ask, I make it happen”, you answer back with a playfull smile and get a matching one from the actor. He pinches at your waist to retaliate and you chuckle. You’re getting comfy around each other these days and it’s really great but this doesn’t help you in any way not falling for him as the days go by. You both sit down on either side of the table & you can’t help but smile seeing him struggling to fit on the bench because of his long legs. That man really was a tree you thought to yourself, one you’d really enjoy climbing some day if it was possible. Snapping out of your inner fantasies, you start eating your lunch in silence, savouring the food for a second. Gosh that meat was so tender it almost dissolved on your tongue without chewing. A sigh of pleasure escaped Adam’s throat and once more, you chuckle making him furrow his brows at you. God, the places your mind went straight to while hearing that noise... - “Was that too loud ?”, he asks as you’re still smiling at him. - “Maybe a bit, but at least I’m sure you’re enjoying the food”, you retort, clearly teasing him. He pouts at you for a second & you laugh before you both start eating again. You’re halfway through the meal when you break the silence. “I thought that maybe we could go over your lines before you set off this afternoon ? It’ll pass the time and this way at least, I’d feel like i’m actually helping you in something that relates to your job for once and no just errands.” - “You’re helping me”, he says a bit sternly, “it might not look like it but you do, trust me, ok ?”, he adds looking you in the eyes to make sure you believe what he just said, making you blush a little in doing so. - “You know what I meant by that”, you reply looking down on your now empty plate. He nods and waits for you to look up again. - “Are you still hungry ? Do you want something else ?”, he asks gently & you shake your head to let him know you’re full. He takes the plates from the table and sets them in the sink. You catch a quick glance over before th turns & heads to the fridge to take some milk out. Adam drinks a lot of milk you noticed. He even drinks it with almost anything. You saw him have some with a slice of pizza once. It’s a bit weird but it’s Adam we’re talking about so, not so weird in the end. - “Can I have some too ?”, you say as he starts sipping directly from the jug. The giant immediately stops and wipes his mouth witht he back of his hand. - “Fuck, sorry. Yeah, of course, just a sec”, he answers, looking around for a glass but none are out so he reaches out in the cupboard to find one. Pourring the milk in, he puts it in front of you. - “Thanks”, you reply with a faint smile. This feels incredibly domestic to you all of that. The mall talk, the gestures... He nods again and sits back after he’s put the milk in the fridge. - “I didn’t picture you as a milk gal”, he blurts out and you genuinely laugh. - “What’s that even supposed to mean ?”, you reply still laughing a bit. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me Mr Sackler”, you add theatrically. - “Oh, I’m aware of that, trust me”, he talks back to you the same way, arching a brow for emphasis. You chuckle but inside you’re feeling quite flustered from that simple phrase. So you take a sip to give yourself some composure & take out from your bag the script, putting it in front of you as you set the glass on the table. - “Let’s get down to business”, you almost chant to the tune of the Disney song but you can tell he doesn’t know it as he grabs the script  takes it away from you instead. “Hey, give that back, I don’t know the lines, we’re supposed to make you rehearse, not me.” - “What do I get in return if I give it back ?”, he asks with a playfull grin on his face. You cross your arms & eye him sternly for a few seconds, which makes him grin even wider, making you want to slap that grin off because you know you’ve already lost this battle. - “3 questions. Anything you wanna ask me & I’ll have to answer, whether I like it or not”, you finally reply after some thinking. It’s a dangerous bargain you’re strucking youself in but you’re pretty sure he’ll be interested, giving what he said earlier. - “Make it 5 and we have ourselves a deal”, he retorts matching your stance. - “If your acting career ever stops, you’ll have a great future as a broker in Wall Street”, you say but now you’re the one grinning. - “First of all, aoutch”, he answers back, pretending to be hurt, “but I promise I’ll make a good use of those 5 questions”, he adds smiling again. You shake your head smiling too and he gives the script back. The first scene goes smoothly, it’s basically a fight between the two characters after they went out. You’re trying your best to put in feelings & intonnation but you don’t dare look at him while he’s replying. Especially since you know what’s coming next. Adam’s character goes into a monologue that you know will hit close to home for him. He explains why he can’t commit to his girlfriend, a very intense scene, charged with emotions. You can’t help but wonder if it will be okay for him when the camera will be rolling. Ot’s his job yes, but it doesn’t mean it must be easy to deal with that kind of personal trauma. You take a little break once you’ve done the first scene a couple of times, finishing your glass in the process. You feel your body tense a bit as you turn the page to get to the next one. Adam passes a hand in his hair & you guess he’s dreading it as well, or at least to rehearse it in front of you. Suddenly, you feel your phone vibrates in your pocket, you reach for it and read the text. It’s coming from Shirley and says all of you PAs are going out tonight for a few drinks. - “Your boyfriend ?”, a deep voice asks you and you shake your head. - “Nope, it’s Shirley. We’re all going out tonight”, you answer as you put the phone next to you. The silence that follows your reply feels weird but you don’t say anything about it. “Do you wanna keep going or take a break ?” - “No, let’s do this”, he says a bit abruptly as he gets up, preparing himself for what’s to come. The atmosphere’s changed, neither of you can ignore it but you still go on. Adam recites his lines and it’s something to witness up close you gotta say. You’ve got chills down your spine and goosebumps all over. You’re almost crying when he’s done & he’s in the same state. You dare not say a word right now; like it’s going to break something that isn’t there so you’re relieved whe the actor sniffles and looks at you with a completely different gaze. - “That was amazing ! I... I don’t even know what to say since it was that effing good Adam”, you manage to let out without getting too emotional. - “You’re just saying that, it was shit”, he blurts out, taking his head between his hands in frustration. You feel there’s a storm boiling inside of him so you try to avoid it hitting the pointof no return. - “Why would I do that ? Plus, you know you’re always the worst judge when it comes to your performance. The director will be thrilled with it, believe me. And if he’s not, he’s either blind or stupid”, you point out, wipping a tear from your cheek and your phone buzzes again. A quick look at it and you set it aside. - “Still Shirley ?”, he asks shaking his head to clear his thoughts & get out of the scene. - “She says I should wear a dress and let my hair down because I quote ‘it’ll make you look cute, you never know who might be out there’. She’s trying to hook me up for a couple of weeks now. She says it’s depressing that I’m still single & only living for my job. She always says the nicest of things, don’t you think ?”, you say smiling, clearly kidding. You know she’s looking out for you and that it’s coming from a good place, but you’re not that desperate for one & well, you’re not interested in anyone except for one tall dark haired man standing two feets away from you right now. Who looks somewhat annoyed and lost at the same time. “Do you want to give it another shot or not ?”, you simply respond, chosing to ignore what just went down. - “No, if I trust what you’ve said, it’s more than okay  I wouldn’t want to keep you here if you’ve got places to be tonight”, he tries to chirp to give the illusion it was just a spat but you can clearly see he’s still annoyed. - “Are you sending me away ?” - “You obviously want to get ready for your night and I think I can get myself to the set on time without you so yeah, it would seem so”. His tone is almost cold and you feel tears coming up from nowhere so you stand up, taking your phone and the script with you as you rush for the door since you’re being dismissed. - “Trust your guts for the scene, you’re a great actor Adam. Even if you don’t think so. I’ll see you in the morning”, you manage to say before you leave the trailer without looking back. What the hell was that, you ask yourself as you’re walking back to the locker room, trying to hold back tears. The last thing you want right now is for someone to see you like this and ask why you’re in that state. You’re still a bit shaken by what went down early on when you meet the others at the bar. Was it a way for you to conjure up Adam’s words that you actually listened to Shirley’s advice and put on the only dress you had in your wardrobe, letting your hair down and even got yourself pampered a little ? Perhaps... Catching you in her field of view, the other PA lights up instantly and comes your way arms wide open. - “Wow, look at you sweetie ! All dolled up. You look fantastic”, she says as she hugs you like a mama bear before realeasing you. “See, I told you you can clean out just fine if you put enough will in it”, she adds grabbing your arm as she drags you to the entrance where the others are waiting. Of course Stew is there but there’s also Kayla, a young brunette coming from Missouri who hopes her job as a PA will be her back entrance to an acting career. She’s nice & has a lovely voice (she nails every high notes of Mariah’s songs which she likes to sing all day long...). Next we’ve got Andrea, former waiter in a great hotel in Greece where he’s coming from, who got into the job years ago on a misunderstanding. He loves puns, you two have bonded over that since your sense of humor is based on the same cinematical references. And finally, there’s Oona. From chinese origins, she’s the little miss sunshine of your troup. Always making you guys smile with her clumsiness but mostly because she radiates good vibes non-stop. The lot of you enter the bar & settle at a table before ordering the first round. You’re looking around to scan the crowd and Andrea notices, as he’s sitting in front of you. - “Looking for your next mistake, aren’t we ?”, he teases you, he knows you’re the worst when it comes to anything related to flirt or relationships. - “No, not you too Andrea. Shirley’s seeing things, I’m not into him, just as he’s not into me. I just admire his intensty when he’s acting, that’s it”, you try to defend yourself but he’s not convinced. - “Honey, I’m a lesbian and I think he’s a total babe. You’re smitten, all the sings are here”, intervenes Shirley suddenly, as she pinches your chin softly. “That’s why whe’re here tonight. We’re gonna get you a man to make you forget another one.” You’re about to argue against that idea but one look at her and you know there’s no way she’s letting you off the hook. The first round of drinks arrives & you try to hide behind your glass but its size a bit to small for that, especially knowing what Shirley’s up with you. But you know she’s right and your mind plays back the exchange you had with him a few hours ago. The first couple of gulps go down your throat without you noticing it & the other woman next to you smiles. “That’s the spirit girl, let your freak flag fly tonight”, she replies chuckling and it’s a couple of hours later when you get out to catch some fresh hair that you’re joined by Stew who needs to smoke. - “You ok Y/N ?”, he asks as he lights up his cigarette with one hand. - “Do you wanna hear the short answer or the fake one ?”, you answer with a faint smile. - “The one you’re most comfortable with I’d say”, he replies with a smirk. “If you don’t want to talk at all, I understand. The same thing ahppend to me when I had my first job as a PA.” - “Really ? And how didi it end ?”, you dare ask, wanting to know even if you dredd the answer, feeling it’s not a fairy tale ending by the way he said that. - “Not going to lie to you, it was a bitch. It broke my heart & I gained 10 pounds eating Ben&Jerry’s for a whole month”, he says whille taking a drag. “We’re just a distraction, it’s nothing real for them. We’re here to help, answer their every need so it’s easy to be mistaken on what all this is in the end. But if you wanna keep working as a PA, you’ll have to set some barriers. Easier said than done I know but that’s how I’ve handled it.” The both of you talk about the subject for another good 20 minutes before Shirley comes out too and heads for you directly, saying it’s your turn to buy drinks and that it’s not outside you’ll be meeting someone. You look at Stew for help but all he gives you in return is a ‘sorry you’re on your own here’ shrug because he knows she’s not letting this go away. You’re only allowed to go home after she was you talk to 2 guys. You’re tired & have to process a lot of things. Luckily, the walk to your appartment gives you time to think things through or at least to start doing so. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or simply the emotional toll of the day that’s finally catching with you but as your head falls on the pillow after you’ve changed in your pj’s, you feel yourself drifting into sleep but you’re still wondering what you’re going to do with what Stew told you and what happened with Adam this afternoon. Your night is agitated, you’re rolling over & over again trying to figure out what you’ll do but as your alarm clock wakes you up in the morning, the answer si still out of reach so you decide that you’ll follow your colleague’s advice. Even if it'll be hard for you, it’s the only reasonable thing to do if you don’t want to end up heart broken when in a few months your paths will part. Why did he had to be so damn complicated and loveable at the same time ? You curse his name out loud as you leave your place for work, determined to let all that behind you somehow and not to fall in that trap another time. Or at least that’s what you’re telling yourself on repeat all the ride long to the studios this morning.

[takeiteasypeasybaby]

Save Me: Chapter 65 - Someday

~Hey guys! Chapter 65 is out now :) I hope y’all enjoy and have a good week!~

Molly makes a confession to Michonne while Negan comes to terms with his past and Lydia thinks about her future at Alexandria.

Michonne and Judith had finally come home from Hilltop.

This filled me with both excitement and regret.

I was happy to see them both, alive and well.

Judith was like my niece and Michonne was my sister.

I loved them both so I hated them not knowing what everyone else already probably knew, that Negan and I were together.

Of course, people had whispered about him, about us for years but, because we were living together, Negan no longer in his cell and we looked after a kid, it was serious.

I think that's what unsettled people the most, that this wasn't some flirty fling with a prisoner, he was now one of us because of me and people felt threatened by us, like the King and Queen of the Sanctuary would reign over them too now.

I didn't wanna reign over anybody, I knew that Negan still did but that he held that part of himself in the past for me.

But it was the fact that we were three outcasts, the 'monster', the 'whisperer' and the 'saviour', although they interchanged monster and saviour for both Negan and I.

I knew that Judith would be okay with it, more elated than okay given how much she cared about Negan when Michonne understandably didn't.

But, Michonne, she was the type who I knew would be happy for me to see that after Tara, I could still be happy but that I found my happiness in Negan would be an issue. I was right.

Michonne strolled with Judith through the front gates as I went to greet her.

'Hey' she said smiling as she hugged me.

'I should've come home sooner' she said apologetically.

I stopped her and said quietly 'no, honestly the trial went better than expected, great actually. Listen, I need to talk with you in private about something'.

Michonne nodded sceptically and told Judith to go see Daryl and RJ while she talked to me for a minute.

I asked her to come sit with me on the bench beneath the tree and breathed deeply, hesitating before I spoke.

'Negan is living with me now' I said quickly, just trying to get it off my chest.

'What?' she said sternly but calmly.

'He is a prisoner Molly?! Or have you forgotten what he did...to all of us!' she yelled.

'I haven't nor will I ever, but he has shown over the years that he has changed. He has served our community time and time again and saving Lydia was no exception. I know it wasn't my decision to make...' I said slowly before she cut me off.

'You're damn right it wasn't!' she yelled.

'But...I made the call and if you will just give him a trial period, say two weeks. If he puts one toe out of line, then he goes back to the cell. But, showing the others that people can change, that they can find redemption, is that not what the future of this place is all about?' I asked softly.

Michonne sighed and nodded, 'fine, but he will still have guards'.

I nodded happily, saying 'deal'.

'How's Lydia doing?' she asked worriedly.

'She's banged up pretty bad, but she's healing. I just want people to see what we see, you know? That she's not a whisperer, hell she wasn't even one when she was with them. It just infuriates me that people hate her so much for something she didn't even do' I ranted as Michonne held my hand.

'You're doing the right thing Molly, you know she's so grateful for you. People will learn and understand over time' she said softly as she smiled.

'God I hope so' I replied as I looked down.

'I know you don't wanna hear this, but Negan is so good with her. She really bonded with him through all this. It's like I...like I have a family. Like I have a kid, you know?' I said hesitantly.

Michonne scowled and then smiled softly, 'I get it, Judith and RJ are my everything. I would do anything for them'.

I nodded, saying 'that's how I feel about Lydia. I wanted to kill those guys for hurting her, the thoughts that ran through my mind Michonne...they were dark. But Lydia showed me the light, showed me justice'.

'That's what we need to fight for, our future, the love that we have for each other...all of us' she said as she saw Negan in the tomato patch.

I thanked her for her understanding and I went over to Negan.

I walked up smiling like a cheshire cat and said sweetly, 'hey'.

Negan looked up and winked at me as he smiled, saying 'hey darlin'.

'Do you know where Lydia is?' I asked.

Negan nodded and said 'uh huh, dropped her off with doctor baby daddy while I went to work, she should be in her room'.

I loved hearing him talk about Lydia like she was ours, it was so sexy and compassionate.

Negan took off his cap and stood up to hold my hand.

'I love you so much you know that?' I said softly so that only we could hear.

He smirked, saying 'I love you more' he said as he bit his lip.

I went to put my arms around his waist as he said, 'Michonne is sitting right over there, we both know what happened last time'.

I chuckled, saying 'she knows and she's okay with it' as I pulled him in closer.

He relaxed and embraced me gently, holding the back of my head in his palm as he kissed my cheek.

'Is it wrong of me to say that I wanna take you right now in this tomato patch?' he whispered into my ear seductively.

I closed my eyes and smiled as I pressed my body closer so he could feel all of me.

'Not at all, but I have a funny feeling that your guards won't like that' I whispered back.

He chuckled at this and groaned in frustration, saying 'such a tease'.

I giggled and replied in a whisper, 'I know, but tonight you can have the full show'.

I pulled away from his embrace and left him wide eyed and speechless as I walked away giggling to myself.

I walked back to the house and checked Lydia's room to see that neither Siddiq or Lydia were there.

I frowned in confusion as I said to myself 'that's strange' as I walked back out.

I checked the hospital, only Dante our new doctor was working there at the moment.

He smiled strangely and said that Siddiq had gone to my house.

I just nodded and checked all over the compound, then realising that Lydia could have gone to the cell.

'Shit' I whispered to myself as I sprinted down there.

Gabriel was taking out Gage and the highway man so they could start their punishment and as I passed him I asked, 'is Lydia down there?'.

The two men didn't answer but Gabriel said 'she is but Molly I-' as I ran past them, not needing to hear the end of Gabriel's speech.

I opened the door to find Lydia sat on the bed in the cell.

Her knees curled up to her chest as her head was bowed to the ground.

'Lydia?' I asked questioningly.

'What are you doing down here?' I continued.

She looked up at me slowly and said 'what does it matter, this is where they want me'.

'You know what they're saying out there? That I brought it all on myself' she said as she started to cry.

I started to step inside as I said 'Lydia...no'.

She screamed and said 'don't! I want to be here. I was living a fairytale in your house, this is who I am'.

'You know for a long time I blamed myself for what my mother did. Kept thinking, what if I just stayed in that cell at Hilltop. If I never let myself be taken alive by you people in the first place, never went off with Henry, never said what I said to my mother' she said softly.

I sighed as I said 'you're not to blame for her'.

It was too much for her, being a family.

'My mother was right, she said you people put on these polite faces but its just a mask, because when things get bad...when you get scared, you pick a target, aim and shoot. Me, Negan, anyone but you' she continued.

'I tried fitting in, because I wanted to be like you' she said which made my heart shatter into a thousand pieces.

Tears rose to my eyes as I listened.

I shook my head, 'you don't belong in a cage, you belong with me' I said crying.

'I'm better here. I feel safe' she said sadly.

That was the truth for Lydia, with me and Negan she didn't feel safe.

I didn't doubt that she loved us but with what she went through, how could I expect her to just trust us?

It broke my heart, that I couldn't give her what she needed, but I loved her and I had to do whatever she needed.

I left the cell door open and said 'I'm sorry, just know that I love you and I will be here when you decide. I'm not leaving your side, you're stuck with me whether that's what you want or not...I've got your back' as I left the room crying.

I had been so blind. I thought she was starting to like it here, to like us.

The puzzle with Negan, the playing with Gracie, it had all been a lie.

She hated it here and it was my fault.

I should have done more, should have protected her more from all of this.

I promised her that, I thought as tears rolled down my face.

I stormed through the compound, wiping my tears before anyone saw me.

I had to do something to take my mind off it.

I had to fight them.

I marched over to Gabriel and said sternly 'I want to fight. No, I want to lead the fight'.

'I wanna train people, get ready because I can't wait any longer' I added as Gabriel just looked at me silently.

He knew something was up with me but didn't know what.

To be honest, if I was any sort of perfect person, I would better myself to help Lydia but knowing me, I wanted to fight my way through the pain.

He nodded and said 'alright' as he got everyone lined up for my training session.

I trained everyone over the age of twelve in everything, knife throwing, firing a gun, explosives, you name it.

My eyes kept flickering over to the cell where Lydia was.

I remembered all those days I would train her and I wished that she would see what I saw.

I just had to give her time and space to think.

My thoughts flashed back to the task at hand and the only thing that hindered us right now was the lack of numbers.

We had good and able fighters but the whisperers outnumbered us by a large fucking amount, plus they had a hoard of walkers that seemed to get larger every time we took some out like they were respawning.

I told Gabriel and he brought Negan over.

Aaron was training nearby me and as soon as he saw our plan, he marched over and said sternly 'we're good'.

'We're low on soldiers already, the ones we have are fighting fatigued. Negan has only been on cleanup duty' I pleaded.

'I said we're good' Aaron said angrily as he fastened his metal arm on.

Negan came over and said 'hey Molly, I'd rather just stay here and pick tomatoes and bury corpses'.

I whispered, 'he needs you out there, please?'.

'Yeah and I need me in here, especially on a day like today. Everybody's amped to eleven, pissed at the skins and stirring shit up with each other. I already told ya, I don't want any of those hateful vibes taken out on me' he said softly.

'I'll make you a deal' I whispered sweetly.

'You do this for me and i'll do that thing we talked about later' I added.

He chuckled and shook his head.

I sighed and said happily 'it's Aaron, he's a saint!'.

'Look, I just wanna stay here can you just do me that solid Moll' he said softly.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and walked over.

'You can fight, you are low on fighters. Peanut butter meet Jelly. You're taking him, end of discussion' Gabe said as he pointed to Negan and Aaron.

Negan's POV//

I knew Molly wanted me to fight with her but I couldn't help but be a little fucking sceptical.

Everyone hated me here except Molly, Lydia and Judith, so going out there with mister robot arm kinda freaked me out a little bit.

Once we got out, we fought the dead in silence until I picked up a crowbar to kill them more easily.

The fucker had given me a wooden stick, the hell was I meant to do with that?!

He warned me to put it down but I didn't listen so he chucked me some rope.

I chuckled and said, 'what? you want me to hang myself?'.

'Tie up, I'm taking you back' he said angrily.

'You're taking me back? That is the best freaking news I've heard all day! But, I am not tying up like some POW' I said smiling.

'Yes you are' he said sternly which made me smile even more.

'Or what cowboy? I asked sarcastically.

He drew out his knife as I said 'agh'.

'You know what I see? I see someone that's pretendin'. Come on man, let's just go' I said calmly as I tried to walk past.

He pushed me to the ground as I moved past him.

'Agh, Jesus did you just trip me?! What are you twelve?! What the hell is wrong with you, I've been putting my neck on a block for you people all goddamn week!' I yelled as I stood up slowly.

'You don't give a damn about us! If you gave a shit, you'd leave! That's what everyone needs' he yelled back.

I nodded and looked down, saying 'I did what I had to do back then'.

He looked surprised and asked 'what did you just say? No, no, no, open that up. Tell me, why the love of my life had to die!'.

'Okay, one simple fact, one truth kept my people going. If you don't protect what belongs to you, then sooner or later it belongs to someone else, that goes for your land, your wallet, your home, your country, everything. It is your job as a man to protect it. Its the story of America, the story of the whole goddamn world and ain't nothin changing it. Not you, not me, nobody' I said seriously.

He scoffed and said 'are you saying that Eric's death was my fault? Well, if I failed Eric then you failed Molly'.

I felt rage boiling in my blood as I kept my cool and just smiled saying 'careful'.

'She left the Sanctuary hating you, you know that she will never forgive you and you will never be able to change that. So, you can act like she won't hold that against you forever, but we both know the truth' he whispered.

I just chuckled as I frowned in anger.

'You wanna say something?' he added.

I noticed two walkers coming towards us and smiled saying 'yeah, behind you' as I ran.

[everyonesawhoregrace]

O B S E S S I O N S - 04 “I’m Not Going Anywhere”

3

2 

1

Her fingers danced along the piano. It's the crack of dawn, the beginning of a new day. Music flowed from the keys, dancing its way throughout the couples small home. The smell of camomile tea whisked with a hint of cinnamon.

Cleo hasn't slept very much, the overwhelming urge to hiccup as her acid reflux continued to punish her. She was tossing and turning in bed, unable to do anything but sit up and drink heaps of water.

It was a day after Arthur was over for dinner. A day after Tommy and Cleo slumped back into their chairs and dragged their sorry arses to clear up the table.

She was biting on her lip, recalling what happened only a few hours ago. She recalls Arthur's foul mouth, she recalls Tommy defending her.

Cleo's fingers moved like zipping bees, she was fast as she got lost in thought.

Her eyes watered as she kept on hearing Arthur's hurtful words. You ought to put a muzzle on that one, she's got a foul mouth like her mother.

I am nothing like her, she repeated over and over, trying to keep herself from crying but poor Cleo couldn't help herself.

It was perhaps, the biggest insecurity of hers. Her mum. Greta was frail, and weak, and an addict. She couldn't provide for her child, and it embarrassed Cleo more than anything seeing how well treated her fellow classmates were. Coming to school with full bellies and a clean clothes. She saw all the mums walking their children to school, kissing them away. Cleo didn't know that lifestyle, nearly every morning she'd have to step over her drunk mum to get to the door. She hated her mum, but she also loved her tremendously.

It was a twisted relationship, but it was something Cleo endured for years.

The memory of her mum, the way she'd choose morphine over her starving daughter. Fill her belly up with liquor, while Cleo was forced to suffer.

Cleo's hand fell over her belly, she swallowed, feeling her throat swell up. "I'll never be like her, little one. I promise you, your papa and I, we'll protect you..."

The sound of his screams jolts Cleo to her feet, she races down the hall, to their bedroom. He wails, he arms thrashing all over the place. He screams, begging for someone to help him. She instantly begins to shake, petrified for her husband.

What used to happen to her lover all the time, only happens once in a while. This night terror that didn't seem to go away. She would grab him, and shake him awake, assure him that he's safe. He's home.

She rushed to his aid, and coddled him. Cleo got on her knees, looking at him as she run her hand over his face. He was sweating, but it was chilly indoors.

"Tommy," She breathed, pressing her lips together. "Tom, wake up!" She shook him. "You're home! You're here, Tommy. You're here!"

He squeezed his eyes shut, thrashing. She tried to gather his arms in her hands, but he was too strong.

"Thomas please!" She begged, her getting louder, closing her eyes.

Finally, he had snapped out of the mines that he was suffocating in and gasped a breath. He sat up, grabbing his chest.

"Tommy," Cleo stood and sat down beside him. "Baby," her hands fell on his cheeks. "You okay?"

He stares blankly into her eyes. The two sit in silence as he catches his breath.

"Cleo..." He manages finally, breathlessly. I'm home.

He was stuck in the mines, it was an ongoing nightmare he had. Where it was him, alone, and the dirt around him tremors and it craves in on him.

"I'm just buried alive." He retells the story as she pours him a cup of tea. "It's like, I can breathe, I know I can breathe, but around me is just dirt. No sign of life. And I'm dying, suffocating, six-feet under, being crushed begging for help but no one can hear me..."

She catches a tear from her eyes as she sits down across from him. Rather than reaching for the cup of tea, he reaches for her hand.

"Did I scare you?" He leans in and wipes under her eye. "You cryin'?"

"Yes but-" She shakes her head, "Tommy, don't worry about me!" She sniffles and begins to cry all over again. Cleo wraps her arms around him and rests her head on his shoulder. "I just hate to see you hurting." She exhales, squeezing him, "I love you so much, baby."

He shuts his eyes, listening to the vibrations of her voice drum against his. Here is where home is. In her arms, fuck everything else. There's no one else in this world like Cleo. Not a single soul who'll listen the way she does.

"I love you so much more." He plants a soft kiss under her earlobe and tucks his head in her neck.

There's nothing better than being in her arms, he's certain of this. And she's just as positive about that too, he's such a good hugger.

But it's Cleo who pulls away first, out of curiosity she asks. "Are you feeling better?"

He glances down at her, his eyes a cloudy grey.

Finally, Cleo gets up, I know what'll help.

"Come on," She extends her hand, "Let's take a bath."

The two sit naked in their bath, it's Tommy against the tub, studying Cleo's back. He soaks her skin with the deliciously warm water, that has hints of lavender in it. He listens to her moan as he drags his teeth along her shoulder. He kisses her softly, unable to help himself. She giggles as he kisses the back of her neck, Cleo's always been ticklish.

She quickly pulls herself away, turning around to face him. The two now opposite to each other, looking at one another. He notices her nipples popping up above the water.

"I have to tell you something." He begins, submerging himself beneath the water. He comes back up, the steam rolls off of his body.

He stares intently at her before continuing. "I would be lying if I said I wasn't seriously considering taking up Arthur's offer in joining the Peaky Blinders."

Cleo's natural, and instinctual reaction would be to bicker at Tommy. Call him naive for thinking it was ok to join the Peaky Blinders. The mere thought of him joining the gang, it's borderline suicide!

"So, what's stopping you?" She asks, thinking she should probably have thanked him for being so transparent. It's a quality she always admired about Tommy, he wore his heart on his sleeve. He was always honest, he didn't hide much. Unless it was for her own good.

"I don't want things between you and I to change." He murmurs, a trace of fear in his voice.

Her mouth dries as she digests his words.

He's right, ultimately, things between the two would change if he did join the gang. With a lot of money, the two could create a lot of problems. Not to mention, the lifestyle of Arthur and John was fuck women and get money. There was nothing substantial. They had a fully loaded pistol in one hand, and their dicks in the other!

Tommy had a future in front of him, the two were working towards that. Train horses, teach children, out one of them up in the Darby. Raise a family, be merry, and proud. Grow old someday and have their children take care of them. The two were working towards that! A life together, a good, meaningful life.

Cleo frowns, looking at her hands through the clear water. "Why do you want join them?" She pauses, before meeting his eyes. "Is it the money?"

He runs a wet hand through his hair. "Yes. And the instability, I don't want you to have to count your change at the market. God forbid our child struggles to afford a simple snack..."

"We can find the money in an easier, legal way, Thomas." She looks him straight in the eyes. "You saw how lost your brother looked yesterday..." She hated mentioning it, but it was true! Arthur had red around his eyes, he looked drunk and high.

"I'm just saying I need to support my family, and I trust myself enough to know that I'm not as weak as Arthur is..."

"What are you talking about?" She inhaled. Wow this conversation has taken a turn. "Baby," He's been really thinking about this. Damn it. "What's going on?"

His eyes blaze, and though he doesn't raise his voice, she can tell he's trying to rein in his temper.

Thomas swallows, "The bills are piling up, Cleo, we can barely afford a crib for the baby let alone groceries."

"Then I'll sell the gold I got from my mums friend."

"And what happens when that runs out?" He raises an eyebrow, challenging her.

"Then, then we find you a job in the city. I'll see if I can work-" She responds sternly.

His eyes narrow. "You're pregnant."

"You are not joining them!" She shouts.

Blue eyes watch her closely. Cleo. Thomas almost gives up, he wants to hold her. But Cleo looks up, her lips tilt downwards. She lets out a shaky breath, pressing her hand to her forehead. A tear rolls down her cheek.

"I nearly lost you when you left for France, Thomas. I nearly lost you. It was a dammed miracle that you came back to me. And now you want to join a gang whose motto is, 'don't fuck with us or else we'll blind youse'? Has it ever occurred to you that I have no idea what to do if there is no you?!"

Thomas sits there, petrified to say anything as she weeps. This whole pregnant this is still a shock to him, Cleo cries at everything. She overthinks way too much. Who the fuck said I was going anywhere?

He pulls in through the water and leaves no space between him and Cleo. He tilts her chin up, "I'm not going anywhere, ey?"

"You don't understand how much you mean to me..." She struggles to say, crying helplessly. She clings onto those words, wishing they'd wrap around his head before it's too late.

"Cleo, look at me,"

She does, wide-eyed and sad.

"I'm not going anywhere, baby, alright?"

She doesn't nod, doesn't frown. His eyes shine as he leans down and kisses her gently. Cleo feels herself responding automatically. She latches onto his body, matching her kisses with his. He grabs both sides of her head and kisses her deeply, devouring his mouth with hers. The atmosphere of the bathroom changes, from a rage and arguing, to pure sex.

Cleo gets on her knees as Tommy grabs her hips, she slowly eases into him without another thought. She gasps into his mouth, as he groans, closing his eyes. Clasping the baths ledge, Cleo moves up and down, with the help of Tommy's hands.

"Ahhhhh." She rocks back and forth against his cock, he fills her up, and she can't help but cry out his name. Finally, Thomas kisses her breasts, biting on her nipples.

"Please!" She cries out, begging for more.

Thomas listens and meets her thrusts with his own. Matching hers, each time. She leans down, kissing him firmly. "I'm so close..." She pours into his mouth.

Thomas can feel himself getting higher and higher. He grabs a handful of her hair and pulls, tilting her head back. Thomas kisses her neck, licking her, nibbling on her skin.

"Come for me..." He taunts, biting on her earlobe. "Come on baby,"

He tightens, as she freezes, and he continues. Thrusting harder and faster into her. Thomas doesn't stop as she obviously reaches her climax. But he realizes he should have because once he comes inside of her, she falls backwards and he has to catch her from falling.

"Oh my..." Her eyes open and she smiles all lopsided. "I don't think I can get out of this tub."

He chuckles, unplugging the sink. "I think you're due for a nap,"

She nods. "Good idea."

He carries his wife to their bed and tucks her in. She falls asleep instantly, sex is amazing, but with her being pregnant she wears out pretty easily. Thomas watches her sleep, smiling at her beauty. Her innocence.

"Hey," He whispers into her ear, coming out her hair. "I won't do it if you want to me okay? I love you."

[tasteslikepepsicola]

Stranger to me Now

Summary: Y/N comes home one day and finds her boyfriend of three years, Grayson Dolan, with another woman. Now, they must confront each other and decide how to handle the situation, do they try to fight for their love? Or walk away? 

Note: I took heavy inspiration from Ross and Rachel’s first breakup on friends, and minimal inspiration from the play Hamilton. 

Btw let me know if you want a part two? if this does well I would definitely consider it, I would love to see this have a happy ending.

Also lol this has been in my drafts TOO long and I’m so happy to finally be publishing it.

Warnings: Hella angst, some cursing, mentions of sex/hookups? Kinda? - NO SMUT

Word Count: 2k+

Enjoy! ~I do not own nor did I create this GIF, all credit to original creator~

His strong arms wrapped around me, lifting my body off the ground just so slightly. My feet danced over his as we swayed back and forth in the dimly light gazebo. My arms tangled behind his neck as my hands found Graysons soft brown hair. I buried my face in his chest, and just for a moment, it was as if we were the only two people in the world.

“Y/N?” Gray inquired softly, rubbing my shoulder and back soothingly.

I picked my head up slightly and met his hazel eyes with my own y/e/c orbs. I hum in response.

“You know I love you...just so much? You know that right?” He plays with my hair as he waits for my reply.

I pull back for a moment, concerned. The party surrounding us has seemingly fizzled, with almost every guest having left. In any circumstance, most attendees had chosen to remain inside the venue, while a few couples such as Gray and I had gotten the idea to explore the property. We had lucked out and found what seemed to be the most romantic, private place in all of New Jersey.

Now, in this peaceful atmosphere it almost seemed out of place for him to be asking such a question.

“Of course, G, I love you too.” I smile softly, hoping to reassure whatever strange insecurity had washed over him lately.

“Good, good.” His voice trails off, and he steals a nervous glance at the floor.

“Alright, I don’t wanna stall anymore. Y/N, I love you. And I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.” Panic came over me as I began to realize the weight of what he was trying to say.

I was too young to be married, we were only eighteen.

“I know we’re young- I,” his voice began to shake. “But I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. I wanna marry you, someday.” He kissed my forehead gently.

“Will you accept this promise ring, Y/N? I want to show you how real this is to me. I love you.”

An onslaught of emotions came onto me like a tidal wave crashing. Relief, shock, and most of all, undoubtedly true love.

Tears streamed down my face, despite my attempts to push them back.

“Yes, Gray. Of course! Oh my god- yes!” In an instant, our lips were attached .

He picked me up by my waste and spun me around in such a way it looked straight out of a movie.

Looking back, maybe it was all too good to be true.

…………………….

Two Years Later

“I don’t know, it seemed like we were just so perfect in the beginning. Now? Ha-”

I let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

“I spend more time with Ethan- and oh get this! Grayson has the audacity to get mad that I spent time with E. Its like hes jealous. God, he's my best friend and his twin. And he doesn’t even trust me around him. Graysons just ridiculous these days.”

I rant to my friend, allowing all the messy details of my relationship to come out over a short meeting for lunch. It just is nice to have someone to talk to besides Ethan. He’s great, but at the end of the day he’s still Grayson’s twin. And he could never be truly unbiased.

“Before all the bills started piling up, and the stress got out of hand, we would talk about our future. Our wedding color scheme, future kids names, we wanted it all. The white picket fence home, I would go to PTA meetings and yoga classes, and at the end of the day, the kids and I would run to greet him when he gets home from work. Now, well look at me. It's been two years and still no real ring, just this damn reminder of all the broken promises.”

My eyes well up with tears, remembering all of the failures our relationship has weathered recently.

“And with the rumors all over social media-” I pause, choked up.

“Not even the fans think we’re gonna last.”

We chat for a few more hours, and I try to clear my head, but I am constantly drawn back to Grayson. Finally, we say goodbye and I order an uber to take me back to the apartment I share with Gray.

………

My fingers stiff and numbed from the cold, I fiddle with my keys for a second, unable to unlock the apartment.

Damn this stupid, old, shitty door knob.

I keep trying, but with little success. I give up, utterly exhausted and fed up with the world.

“G!” I call. I start banging on the door. “Gray! Let me in it’s freezing.”

There is no response, just the sound of frenzied scuffling from inside the door. I wait for a moment, before giving up and reaching for my keys once more. After multiple failed attempts, I unlock the door on my own, and enter the apartment.

I toss my keys on the counter, and rub my forehead with my index finger and thumb, in a frustrated, stressed, kind of way.

“Gray, I’m home!” I call, starting to look around for my boyfriend.

When there is once again no response, my curiosity spikes. His car was in the parking garage, what was up with him?

I scan each room on the first floor before heading up the stairs.

“Gray?” I continue to call.

I push open the door to our shared bedroom, and then, my earth shattered. Sitting there on our bed, is a half dressed, sloppy looking instagram model. I rub my eyes furiously, trying to clear whatever strange illusion this is from my sight. And yet, there she stays, wearing a look that says I took what was yours, and made it mine.

I cover my mouth to prevent a sob from leaving my body. And then I see him, Grayson comes running out of the bathroom, with only a towel hanging around his hips.

I hold his gaze for a moment, and study him, his lips parted in shock, eyes full of regret. In that moment my eyes asked what I couldn’t manage to; how could you?

We are both pulled back to Earth and I turn my back, rushing for the door, needing to escape this horrible nightmare I had walked in on.

No quicker than I can reach the door, Grayson has lunged towards me, grabbing at my arms, desperate.

“Y/N, Y/N, oh my god, fuck, please baby, please. Don’t leave.”

I tug my arm away from him to wipe my tears.

“I know this is fucked, I know this is the worst thing I could have ever done, I know you probably hate me- I- I deserve that. Just-” he can’t find the words.

I finally meet his gaze, “let go of me.” I say quietly but sternly. Silence falls upon the room as his eyes plead with me not to do this. His grip softens, and I am able to tear away from him, and down the stairs.

I look for my keys frenzied, tears blurring my vision.

Upstairs, I hear some shouting and within ten seconds the girl is racing out the door. I glance at her before she is able to leave, taking in her appearance. Everything about her resembles a younger me, the me that Grayson had fallen in love with, the me I had somehow lost. From the way her hair fell, to the way her eyes glowed with life, even straight down to our similar bone structure. A chill came over me. Does he love her like he used to love me? The moment of contemplation is ripped away as the nameless model tears her vision away from my own, and is out the door before I can say anything.

Moments later, Gray comes thundering down the stairs, distress etched across his face.

“Y/N, please, please just hear me out.” He begs.

Staring at the man standing in front of me, it was almost impossible to recognize what he had become. Half dressed, apologetic, he looked a mess. And I loved him. I loved him so much. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to go on living without the one thing I had centered my whole life around?

Had I been so blind that I couldn’t see what our relationship had truly become? We were nothing but a wilting flower, we couldn’t whether the harsh realities that Winter would bring. And maybe our last petal just fell.

Tears fell from my eyes, and anger spread throughout my body.

“What? What could you possibly have to say to me? You have thrown everything away! Now you need to stand back and watch it all burn.” I screamed, my voice breaking.

I rush for the door, but he stops me once again.

“Y/N, oh my god, please don’t do this. I hate myself for ever hurting you. But I can’t live without you, I-” He makes needy, grabbing motions for my body, holding out my arms first.

“I can’t live without these arms, these beautiful arms.” He chokes on his words as tears finally fall from his own eyes.

“I- I can’t be without these arms. Or your heart- your beautiful, beautiful heart.” He places a hand over my heart, searching for any sign of forgiveness in my eyes.

“I can’t lose you, please, Y/N, I love you. Don’t do this. Don’t leave me.” He has now sunk to his knees, arms wrapped around my waist, sobs raking his body to match my own.

It’s clear neither of us wants this, but I can’t, no I won’t allow myself to be so devalued.

I place my hand on his cheek, fighting through tears, and wiping his as they fall.

“I used to think of you as someone who would never hurt me, how could I have been so wrong?”

He remains silent.

“And I can’t stop picturing you with her. It all just keeps replaying in my mind.”

I collect myself a tiny bit, taking a deep breath and swallowing hard.

“You’re a totally different person to me now, it will never be the same.” I finally say what I hadn’t been able to.

He rises to his feet, placing his hands in mine. I allow him to bury his face in my neck one last time, my desire to hold him one last time suddenly outweighing my fury.

After a moment, I snake my arms around his body and pull him into a final hug, our last goodbye.

In our last moments, I ponder how he was able to hurt me worse than anyone ever had, and I still had so much love for him. That's when I realized, heartbreak and betrayal doesn’t take away the love, and that’s what makes it so hard.

I pull away from him at last, kiss him on the cheek, and flip his hand over so I’m holding his in mine.

“I’ll have Ethan come get my stuff in a few days…” I mutter.

“Y/N…” his voice breaks.

“Don’t.” is all I am able to say. I know if I stay any longer, I’ll never leave.

I finally do what I had intended on doing, placing the promise ring in the palm of his hand gently. I close his fist around it, and even after just seconds without it on, I already felt incomplete.

There was nothing I wanted more in that moment than to feel his body on mine, to be held in his strong embrace, to go back to how things were, like none of this had ever happened. But it was blatantly clear that would never be able to happen.

I trace his knuckles with the tip of my thumb, lingering for just a moment before pulling away. Feeling my entire heart shatter what seemed like a million different times, over and over again.

I turn to walk out the door, and out of Grayson Dolan’s life forever.

“Goodbye, G...”

He blinks and a tear rolls down his cheek, he stands stunned, in a trance like state with his lips just barely parted, face flushed.

“Goodbye Y/N…”

The door shuts behind me, and seconds after, over the sound of my sobs, I hear him punch the wall behind me in anguish and let out a cry.

All I knew now, was that I truly knew nothing about my own world.

[hawkeyebabe]

Yellow, requested by @folieacutie

... “What is this?” she asked in mild surprise, looking around the office at her team. The item in question flapped in the air with the flick of her wrist.

Havoc’s mouth turned down and he shrugged his shoulders. Fuery vocally affirmed he did not know. Breda barely glanced up before returning to his book, saying nothing as a surefire sign that he was not involved, nor did he care. Only Falman could offer a clue to her sudden investigation.

“It was on your desk when I arrived early this morning, Lieutenant Hawkeye.”

Riza eyed them before looking back down at the envelope, ordinary in each aspect save for the incredible yellow hue of the paper and the named it was addressed to.

Riza Topaz Hawkeye.

Certainly, undoubtedly, head-tiltingly curious.

“What’s it say?” Havoc asked. She flipped it back up so its face was to him. Squinting his eyes to read, Havoc’s head suddenly jerked back in shock.

“Your middle name is Topaz?” he asked wildly, his tone indicating his disgust.

“No,” said Riza, dropping the letter to stare it on her desk. “It’s not.”

“Oh.” His relief, she thought regardless, seemed a little too obvious. “Why’s it say that then?”

“Do you believe if I knew the answer to that I’d be standing here dumbfounded?”

Havoc flipped the toothpick in his mouth to the left and shrugged.

“Well aren’t you going to open it?” asked Breda, his book forgotten and his eyes intrigued. The mystery of this outlying event had apparently earned his attention.

“I don’t know ma’am,” Fuery offered quickly with a nervous glance. “It’s certainly strange. I would trace it back to mailroom and find out where it came from first.”

“I doubt it’s anything dangerous, Fuery,” Riza said bluntly. “Although I appreciate the input.”

Breda laughed openly.

“It’s bright-ass yellow,” he chuckled, crossing his arms. “I can’t imagine it’s a death threat.”

“Although I can imagine if anyone were to get a death threat, it would be our Lucifer lieutenant,” Havoc laughed, slapping the hand Breda offered in impressment. Riza kept herself from rolling her eyes to the ceiling.

“What the hell are we talking about?”

All eyes snapped to the figure who had just entered the room. Roy Mustang, his hand still on the door, stared intensely around the room, his roaming eyes finally landing on Riza. In answer, she removed the tips of her fingers from the letter and placed both hands behind her back.

“It’s nothing sir, the men are only acting childish.”

“Death threats?” he clarified, his eyebrows raising and his hand releasing its hold on the door. It clicked shut quietly.

She glanced down at the carpet and shook her head, a brittle smile playing across her lips. A little laugh escaped her throat.

“No--”

“Falman, report,” Mustang interrupted, staring sternly at the warrant officer. The older man immediately straightened his back and snapped to attention.

“Sir, we are only hypothesizing the contents of a suspicious letter addressed to the first lieutenant.”

Havoc, recognizing the chance to stir up not only one superior, but two, pointed his finger at Falman and piped,

“I second that. Definitely suspicious.”

“Oh, really…” dared Mustang, stepping forward quickly, his strides long and powerful. He crossed the room in seconds.

“Colonel, honestly,” Riza tried, “Havoc is being dramatic--”

“Is this it?” he asked, not bothering to look at her but instead the glowing yellow envelope sitting atop the lieutenant’s other reports. Riza shot Havoc a dangerous look, which he returned with an apologetic smile and a lift of his hands in surrender.

“Topaz?” repeated Mustang with distaste as he flipped the letter over, a stark switch from his before fierce demeanor. His head snapped up to look at her.

“That’s not your middle name.”

“I am aware.”

He shoved the letter into her hands.

“Open it.”

Suppressing a sigh, Riza slid her thumb beneath the flap and gently ripped open the top. It seemed as though the room became incredibly silent as she slid the contents of the envelope out, holding them in her hands as the daisy yellow envelope was tossed to her desk.

Each individual in the room leaned forward in suspense.

She first studied the objects in her right hand before focusing on the letter. Eyes crossing the thick paper, reading each line, Riza’s face grew more and more appalled. She knew Mustang was watching her, that everyone was watching her, but the total slap of the letter could not be contained. Mustang continued to watch her read, becoming more tense as he did, until it seemed as though he couldn’t take the wait any longer. He snatched it from her and focused his eyes on the words as though they were the last things he’d read.

She wasn’t certain why, but she somehow knew Mustang’s reaction would not be a positive one. Her shoulders clenched as she awaited it.

“Holy shit, what does it say?” asked Breda incredulously. Riza dared a glance at her superior, knowing it was his body language that elicited such a question from Breda.

Indeed, Mustang’s jaw was dropped open, his eyebrows furrowed together, his fingers crinkling the edges of the paper. As he reached the end of the letter, the hardness of his features broke and he let out a single, breathy release of a laugh, a reaction in disbelief.

“Boss!” said Jean. “The hell does it say? Who’s after her?”

“Sir,” began Falman seriously, concerned etched in the lines of his face. “Please, inform us so we can quickly act against--”

“Guys,” Riza interjected, holding up a hand in exasperation. “It is not a damn threat. Please, relax.”

“Well what the hell is it!” Breda practically yelled, his patience depleted. Riza ran her palm over her face and nervously brushed the hair out of her face.

“Hawkeye?” Havoc prodded.

“Riza Hawkeye,” Mustang read suddenly. Rapt, the men silenced, and Riza’s groan was likely heard by all. “I must confess, I can’t take my silence for another day. You cross my cafe daily, each morning on your way to work, and each occurrence it is like seeing you for the first time.”

Mustang’s sharp, biting voice contested the words he repeated. Usually able to contain herself, normally proud of her stoicism, in that moment the side of Riza’s face was held in a hand.

“With your hair as bright as the sun, yellow like imperial topaz, you brighten each and every day. If you’d like a free cup of coffee, paid in company of me, your presence here would mean more to me than the day. Take this gift to remember how you light up my world with your dazzling sunlight.”

There was a long, terrible silence, before a roar of laughter erupted from the mouths of the men in the room. Even Fuery was smiling widely, his teeth showing as he watched everyone bend over in delight.

Finally finding it a little humorous herself, Riza took the letter back from Mustang and tossed it on her desk. Over the sounds of glee, Mustang took a massive sigh and looked over at her.

“What’s the gift?”

She opened her palm to reveal two studded earrings, both made of glistening topaz.

“A little tacky, if I do say so myself,” she said, feeling a smile creep up.

“Hawkeye,” Havoc laughed, wiping a tear from his eye. “Do you have any clue who this guy is?”

“I do have a suspicion,” she answered with a laugh of her own.

“So you gonna go see what’s brewin’ at the coffee shop?” winked Breda. “Gonna put on those earrings and let your hair down? Blind the guy with your “dazzling sunlight?””

“Absolutely not,” she said blankly, though her eyes were still alight with the humor of the situation. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mustang reach into his jacket.

“Then you won’t mind…” Mustang reached over and picked up the paper once more. He stuck out his foot and hooked his boot around the waste basket beside her desk, pulling it towards him and hovering the letter over it.

With the glove he’d stealthily put on, he snapped and sent the letter to hell. The ash drifted uneventfully down into the bin.

Riza, somewhat surprised by the action, tilted her head at him with a parted mouth.

“Damn, boss, something got you sour about that? Little bothered by the interest of another man?”

Mustang turned around to face Havoc. Riza, too, stared at him in mild horror. It seemed an accusation at most, and a prod at least. Mustang, the swift and clever man he was, did not hesitate.

“Do you think our lieutenant deserves a man who professes his infatuation through cheap poetry and costume jewelry?”

Smiling crookedly, somehow seeming amused, and perhaps unconvinced, by the answer, Havoc just shook his head.

“Nope.”

“Well neither do I. Simple as that.”

Mustang pushed the trash bin back to its spot and sauntered to his desk, apparently wiping himself of the conversation. As he sat in his chair, Riza stuck out her hand and offered him the earrings.

“Shall we burn these too, while we’re at it?” she asked, only half teasing.

“Nah,” said Mustang as he organized his day’s work. “I say you sell them. Get yourself a decent pair.”

The men began to still, muttering about the hilarity of the letter but quieting nonetheless, and after a few more remarks they eventually got back to their work. Perhaps it was her paranoia, but Riza thought Havoc was looking between she and the colonel one too many times. Wishing to distract herself, she threw the bright yellow envelope into the trash to join its ashen companion. She picked up a pile of files and brought them to Mustang’s desk.

“These need to go to the supply room by lunch.”

He took them from her, piling them atop another stack of files.

“Perhaps consider taking a different route to work, Lieutenant,” he offered quietly, looking up at her with a grin. “I imagine this person does a lot of staring.”

“He does,” she smiled back. “Trust me, I’ve taken notice.”

“I’m sure you have.”

“I’ve been meaning to inspect the park the city just renovated on the other side of my apartment. Seems a shorter walk, anyway.”

“Good. I’ll have these forms signed by noon.”

“Eleven, Colonel.”

He raised his eyebrows at her.

“Eleven,” she repeated.

A corner of his mouth twitched and he gave her a little nod.

“Eleven.”

[fanficstookover]

A Year Before the Rest- Newt

Last weekend I went to a Maze Runner marathon in my local cinema and honestly, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it was a bit too much. I couldn’t handle it. I am officially dead. This is my writing from the beyond.  So I have watched all the movies finally, have read the first book (the other ones are already ordered and in the mail) and I have some serious Newt feels. Like, it’s not natural anymore. So, I decided to give it a go. 

As the title says, it all takes place around a year before Thomas arrives and shuckes everything up.. 

word count: 5367

warning: Don’t think so. Not really. Just fluff

Summary: You wake up in the Box. The rest is self explanatory: you freak out and almost kill somebody with a shovel. There’s also this guy with a slightly stupid name that catches your eye. 

Darkness and noise. That is what you woke up to. Your head ached and there was a gnarly feeling in your stomach. You looked around, but it was still completely dark. There was nothing around you. But the noise that was being made, told you otherwise. Something was happening, But what? You tried to think, but nothing came up. You couldn’t remember what was going on, what this place was or how you had gotten there in the first place. It was like everything was wiped out of your memory. Well, not exactly. You could remember the sound and smell of animals, events and places and the taste of food, only not the people or the times in which you visited them. Everything personal wasn’t there. Your whole existence was a completely blank, except for one thing: (Y/N). Your name.

Suddenly the noise changed. It got louder and the ground you sat on began to shake. You were moving..up. The sound of some type of chains being pulled at could be heard. Again, you could recognise the sound of chains and you could remember what chains are, but there was no single memory in your brain about ever doing anything with them. Like, you knew only the basics to life and were just about to start it.. Like a robot. Were you a robot? Was that even possible?

The chains kept on rattling, a cold wind blew in your face from who-knows-where. You could feel that you were moving up. The destination unknown. How could you know the destination if you didn’t even know where you came from?

Then it stopped. Everything at once. The sound and the wind. Now you sat there in complete silence. Not knowing what to do, you decided to try and remember something else about yourself. A name was a good start, but it couldn’t be the only thing that your brain managed to restore.

How do I look?  The question scared you. You didn’t even remember how you looked like. Some things you could feel, like your hair, which was long and a bit of a mess at this moment. Or the shape of your nose and ears. But skin colour, length, you had no clue.

You wanted to scream out the frustration that was stuck in you, but the sudden movements above you caused another kind of scream to come out. Suddenly something opened up and the light that emerged almost blinded you. The sun shined bright and the nice warmth was also not unwelcome. You squinted so you could see better. Dark figures were visible to you, hanging from the edge and looking at you.

“It’s a shucking girl!” one of them shouted. It made you jump up a bit. Finally getting a bit used to the light in your face, you tried to get a better look at the people hanging above you. So far you could see, they were all boys. You couldn’t tell by just this look, but probably in their teens. All of their eyes were on you. You could feel your cheeks heat up.

“Why’d they send a girl up?” another one asked. Voices started to talk through each other and you could no longer keep up with it. Your head started to hurt more and more. Were they just going to stare at you for the rest of your life? Were you some kind of sacrifice for them that will end up on the dinner table, or worse… A slight rush panic hit you. You couldn’t breath anymore. Some of them must have noticed, because soon enough the loud conversations died down and somebody even jumped into the box you were trapped in.

Tears were already blurring your vision, but you could see that the person in front of you was skinny, but well built. A mop of blonde hair on his head. He made a small step towards you, but you pushed yourself back, away from the stranger.

“Stay away from me!” you demanded. It scared you. Not only the whole situation. Also the fact that that was the first time you heard your own voice. The boy smiled weakly at you.

“Hey, it’s ok. I won’t hurt you.” he said kindly and carefully. He had some kind of accent that you didn’t recognise. Maybe everybody here had it. You could have been brought here to a whole different country.

“Who are you?” You spoke and ignored his previous words. The boy made another step, and you pushed away again.

“It’s going to be ok. You’re save.”

“That’s good to know, but it’s not what I asked!” you shouted, catching him off guard. The other boys that were looking at the small show also looked surprised at your response. “Unless your name actually is ‘It’s going to be ok’ I want an answer!” you yelled out. The last few words a bit shaky. You were definitely scared, but the blond boy didn’t mind. He didn’t try to approach you anymore and kept his distance.

“Ok, Ok. My name is Newt.”

“What kind of stupid name is that?” you scoffed. Some laughters could be heard, but they stopped as soon as “Newt” looked up at them. He clearly had some power over the rest. “Why don’t you, slintheads, go and piss off.” That had done the trick and soon you were alone with the stranger.

“I guess it’s Newton, but you can just call me Newt.”  He smiled and gave you his hand to shake it. You looked at him a bit unsure, but finally shook it. He laughed: “I think this is the part where you tell me your name.”

“(Y/N).” but then you felt someone’s eyes on you, and they weren’t Newt’s. You looked up to be met with a head of dark hair. “Who is that and why is he still here?” you pointed up. Newt followed your finger.

“Don’t worry. That’s Minho, he’s cool. He’s only here because somebody had to help us get out of here.” Minho smiled at you and gave you a small wave. You waved back, feeling slightly awkward for some reason.

“So, you want to join me out there? Or would you prefer to stay in the Box.”

“I don’t think I have much choice, do I?”

“No, not really.” he smiled. He had a really nice smile, you noticed. Newt gave a sign to Minho and he let down a rope with something attached to the bottom of it which helped you get out.

“Do you trust me, (Y/N)?”

“Not really, but then again, what choice do I have?”

“That’s the spirit. Come here, I promise you’ll be fine.” you stood up with a sigh and gave him your hand. He held you tight and then suddenly you were moving up. It was only a very short moment until you could free yourself from the grip of the young man and get out by yourself. Minho wanted to help you get on your feet, but you sternly declined. You could see from the corner of your eye how the two boys shared a look. It gave you an opportunity to look around too. It seemed like you were standing in a field. A field surrounded by gigantic walls. The walls were split in half at each side, like some kind of entrances.

There wasn’t only a field and some weird concrete walls. In one of the corners, there stood a small forest of some kind, which looked rather dark. Even in the middle of the day. There were also a few buildings. The biggest, looked like a barn or something, the other one like a house that the occupants couldn’t decide on how much was actually too much in an renovation, and another small building that was much simpler in construction. In the opposite corner of the forest there was a farm where animals walked around. Cows and sheep stood there and to chew on grass. Boys of all ages, but averagely between their early and late teens, walked around the place, talking, working and doing other things.

“Welcome to the Glade,” Newt announced.

“It’s uhm… nice.” you gave him a small smile. “I do have questions though.”

“Not the place, nor the time for that.” he simply said and then told you to follow. As you still had little choice in doing so, you followed the blond boy towards the big renovation problem house.

“This is the Homestead.” Newt pointed towards it. “It’s kinda the homebase of this whole thing. Who wants to, can sleep in there, but the weather is good at night, so you can sleep outside too if that’s what you want.” He talked some more about the building, but you weren’t exactly listening. There was so much going on around you, it was hard to take in. Everybody was also staring at you, what was rather uncomfortable. Because of that you tried not to make any eye contact with any of the boys you passed.

“Am I the only girl here?”

“Not if you count the ones in the dungeon?” Newt said casually as he kept on walking. You stopped and so did your heart. Was he serious?

“Come again?” you asked, ready to run away at any point. He could be leading you right there. But even if you ran away, you wouldn't be able to escape. All the eyes were on you. Someone else could easily get you on your way… and besides, there was no way to run to. The Glade was big, but not that big. You had no idea what was behind the walls and weren’t really interested in finding out soon.

“Calm down, I was only joking,” Newt smiled, but you didn’t. He realised that the joke was a mistake and tried walking up to you, but you backed away again. “I’m sorry. I promise, there is no dungeon.”

“So where are the other girls?”

“You are the only one. They haven’t brought any other girls yet.”

“Who are they?” you took another step back. Quickly looking at your nearby surroundings you spotted a shovel that was leaning against the wall of the Homestead. You grabbed it and pointed it at Newt, who now took his turn to back away. The swing that you had made previously was also really close to hitting him square in the face.“Hey hey hey, (Y/N) please, calm down.” he put his hands up in surrender. “We don’t know who they are either. We call them the Creators, because we assume that they created the place. They bring us and some other supplies here, and that is all we know. There is nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about? I just came up here in a freaking box, with no memory whatsoever. Now I’m stuck here in some weird concrete prison farm with dozens of boys! Not to mention you were just talking about a sex dungeon! I don’t think so..Get away from me!” Another boy tried to come up to you and grab the shovel. You swung with it and almost hit him straight in the face.

‘Joking, I was only joking. And nobody said anything about a sex dungeon.”

“So for what other purpose would you have girls locked up in a dungeon, huh?”

“Good point,” Newt agreed, laughing at your cleverness, “But there is no dungeon. You are safe! I promise.” The look in his eyes made you believe it. It made his words sound genuine. You lowered the shovel. Newt let a deep breath of relief out. You apologised to the kid you almost hit in the face.

“It’s ok.” he said and walked away, still a bit wanky. You were actually surprised at how easy that was. You would definitely be a bit more angry if somebody almost decapitated you with a garden tool. Not even a completely sharp one at that.

“Are you ready for the rest of the tour?” Newt asked.

“Yeah,” you walked up to him, shovel still in hand, “but I’m keeping this.”

“Of course.”

“Do you mind repeating what you said about the Homestead, I was a bit distracted the first time.” You gave him a small smile. Newt looked at you a bit unsure, but gave in after a while. He started to talk about the building and then went on about the rest of the Glade. So many question popped into your head, but every time you wanted to ask one, Newt just said: “Not now.” So you didn’t.  

“That’s about it. Now you can ask your questions.”  Newt turned around to face you. He hadn’t looked at you since the shovel incident and had just kept on walking around the “Glade” as they had called this place.

“Can I ask all of them?”

“Yes.” He assured you with a smile. “I have the whole day.”

“Good, because this will take a while.” you sat down on the grass. Newt was surprised, but sat down next to you. “First of all, what is out there?” you pointed at the opening in the walls.

“I’m not sure if I’m the right person to tell you this.” he said nervously.

“Try me, Newtie.”

“Don’t call me that.” he glared at you. For some reason you didn’t feel intimidated. You just laughed. “I just did it. There’s nothing you can do about it, Newtie. Now tell me: What is behind those walls!?”

“Fine,” he groaned, “it’s a maze. Yes a maze, as in labyrinth. As in, we have no clue how to get out.”

“How come you have no clue how to get out?  If it’s a maze, then there must be a way out.”

“It’s more complicated. You see, those walls move.” he pointed at the holes in the walls. You looked at him, then at the walls, and back at him with wide eyes. “That is not possible!”

“Well, it is. In a few minutes, those things will close and the rest of it will change. Just like every day, like clockwork.”  he looked at the walls for a moment in silence. “That is why we have the first rule: If you’re not a Runner, you must never go into the maze! Understood?”

“Clear as daylight.” you said. “Then my second question will be.. How long have you all been here?”

“Well, the first few times people got send up here was in groups. I was in the second group. Now, every month only one person emerges from down there. It’s been almost a year, I think.”

“So, in a year, you haven’t figured out how to get out of here?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Newt sighed. It was clear to you that this was a bit of a touchy subject to him, so you decided to change it.

“Alright, so...how about you introduce me to the others. I’ve had a bit enough of you today.” you laughed and Newt let out a sheepish laugh too. You got up and he walked you to what seemed like a big garden. Plants and all types of fruit and vegetables were growing all over the place.

“Here are the Track-Hoes.” Newt announced.

“Excuse me.” you couldn’t keep in the laughter. Newt apparently agreed with you as he joined your lough. It felt nice how casual everything was between you and him. You were just smiling and laughing the whole time around him. It felt like you knew him longer than only 2 hours.

“Yeah, I don’t like the name either. Trying to change it ever since I became one.”

“So, you’re a Hoe?”

“Oh shut it.”

“You got it, Newtie.” you stuck out your tongue and walked around to find some people. Finally, the first person you saw was a boy that was quite big and tall. His hair was black and his long fact and droopy eyes made it look like he was bored out of his mind.

“Hi!” you said as cheery as possible. The boy looked up from what he was doing and smiled weakly. Almost immediately going back to work.

“C’mon Zart, don’t be so sour to the Greenie.” Newt said happily to him. Zart, as you just heard, didn’t seem to be very amused. He continued to work without saying a word. You looked at Newt a bit unsure. He took your hand and pulled you away from the gardens.

“Oh nevermind him,” he said, “never been the social one. I think the Slicers are on a break right now.”

“Let’s go then. Bye Zart!” you waved enthusiastically at the boy. You could see a small laugh leave his lips, but it could have been a trick of the sun. You finally let Newt pull you away towards what he called the “Slicers”. With all the new information you had just received, you couldn’t exactly imagine what the Slicers could do. So you were disappointed to see that they were technically, just butchers.

Newt introduced you to the “Keeper” of the Slicers. A boy whose face was covered in acne walked up to you. He looked much happier than Zart. However, your smile faded.

“Glad we can finally have a proper introduction. My name is Winston.”

“(Y/N),” you shook his hand. “I’m sorry again, for you know…”

“Don’t worry about it. Worse things have happened around here.” he assured you. It made you feel better about your situation, but at the same time a bit scared at the thought of what else happened in the Glade. You decided not to ask about it. Sometimes ignorance is, in fact, bliss. This was one of those times.

“Hey Winston, where’s everybody?” Newt asked as he was looking around.

“After (Y/N) arrived, they all ran to the showers to clean up. Didn’t want you to see them covered in blood and other klunk. There is only one shank left.” he pointed towards a boy on the other side of the barn. He was busy cutting up a piece of meat. His shirt almost completely covered in blood. When he heard his name, Frankie looked up and waved at you and the boys. As he was still holding his machete it looked like a scene from a horror movie.

Have I ever seen one actually? Would I be too scared? Did I see it with anyone else?  Many questions popped up in your head with no answer. How was it possible that you couldn’t remember anything at all? It was starting to make you sick.

“I think you’ve had enough of the Slicers for to today.” Newt was about to take you away from the barn, but you stopped him.

“No, I’m fine. It’s just… uhm…” you stumbled on your words, “You know what. Let’s go. You’re right. The smell is becoming a bit too much.” you walked out of the building, leaving the boys behind. You didn’t actually mind the smell. It was the thought of having no memories that bothered you.

The fresh air hit you as you walked out. As soon as you were outside, you felt eyes on you. All the boys were looking at you. It wasn’t making anything in your situation better. Probably, only much worse. You had to get out of this place. But the only way out would be the maze. You couldn’t break the most important rule on your first day. They would probably kill you.

Then your plans were interrupted. A horrible sound filled the calm silence of the Glade. You looked up to where the sound came from. At least you tried. It seemed as if the sound came from all around the place. Once you had found the source, you wanted to slap yourself for not noticing it sooner. The openings in the walls were closing. At a speed that broke all laws of physics. You looked at it with fascination as the wheels turned and the entrances shut. The silence was back.

“You took it better than the rest.” somebody walked up behind you. It made you scream. The mysterious person laughed: “I’ll take that back.”

“Well, I’m sorry if I’m not used to guys creeping up at me yet. I’ll try to work on it.” the sarcastic tone from your voice was practically spilling out of you. The boy who scared you seemed to be hiding the fact that he was impressed with your answer. He looked you up and down. Not in the way that the rest had been doing. Not in the way that made you want to push his face in the pile of manure you saw nearby the gardens. He looked at you in the way how a General would look at his new recruits. Full of judgement.

“I assume you are Alby.” the boy didn’t answer. He just kept looking at you silently. You wanted to walk away, but the boy was a bit scary looking. Tall and muscular, He was clean shaven, including on top of his head. His eyes dark like the rest of his skin.

“I’m gonna go now.” you announced after a minute. There was still no response. It was very unclear to you what you were supposed to do.

“I hope Newt told you about the rules.” he finally spoke up, just as you were about to leave.

“Uhm, yeah. Never be a slacker, just do your part. Don’t hurt another Glader, and never leave the Glade.. Unless you’re a runner.”

“Good.

“Are you finally going to tell me who you are?” you asked. The boy still didn’t look like he was planning on having a longer conversation with you. But after a second he gave in: “Yeah, I’m Alby.”

“(Y/N).” you said in the same cold tone as he did.

“Tell me (Y/N), what do you think about this place?” He came up and stood next to you. The question startled you a bit. You had to look around before giving Alby ananswer. The Glade looked peaceful at the moment. The four entrances were closed, but the fields still looked large. The sun was about to set, giving the trees this glow that couldn’t be seen at any other moment in the day. The Gladers were back at work, laughing and pretending not to look at you.

“Actually rather beautiful.”

“Stick to the rules, and it will stay like this.” with this simple, but definitely threatening statement, he left you standing on the field. You followed him with your eyes. Alby walked with big steps towards the Homestead. The door of the building was open, but when he walked in, they were immediately shut by somebody already inside. The sudden bang of wood against wood startled a couple of Gladers nearby, but they soon got back to work again. Giving their almost full attention to their jobs, following rule number 2.

You didn’t know what to do. You had no idea where Newt was, and since he was the only person you knew…

“Hey, Greenie!” You turned around. A boy was jogging towards you. The black hair on his head told you that you already knew his name, but you couldn’t remember it. “Where the shuck have you been? Newt was looking all over the place for you.” he said as he stopped a few feet away from you. He had probably hurt what happened with Winston.

“I literally been here the whole time.”

“What were you doing in the middle of the empty lands?”

“Looking at the walls. Had a little chat with Alby.” you shrugged. You wanted to walk towards  the boy, but he hesitant walked backwards. You wanted to laugh at his reaction, but weren’t sure how he would react.

“You’re Minho, right?”

“Yeah,” Minho raised an eyebrow. He still looked apprehensively at you.

“Nice to meet you.” you gave him your hand to shake. Mindo ignored it and started to walk. “Yeah, whatever. Newt is looking for you.” He was already jogging away from you.

“I don’t even know where he is.” you shouted out to him. There was no answer. Minho’s attitude surprised you a little. When you were in the Box, Newt made it sound like he was his friend. You didn’t exactly know Newt, but at least you didn’t expect him to have such horrible friends. So far, the people here weren’t exactly the best. With the exception of Newt and Winston, but you had a feeling that Winston was only being nice to you, because he was scared you would hit him with a shovel again.

Locked up with dozens of boys who hate me. Absolutely fan-freaking-tastic! You shouted out mentally. Suddenly a cold breeze hit you. The smell of grass and fresh fruit went by with it. It smelled familiar, but again… you didn’t know why. Everything was wiped out. The memories you knew you had, weren’t there anymore. As if somebody robbed your brain from everything about your life.

It was horrible, you knew that. But there was no way out of it now. You had to get over it. Make new memories. There was no other option anyway.

The breeze passed. You were still standing on the same spot in the field. You must have looked a bit strange to the rest of the Gladers: just standing there, not doing anything. It didn’t bother you at all. You weren’t breaking any rules, yet.  

“There you are.” You had decided to take the matter into your own hands. Clearly the boy had some trouble finding you in the middle of an open and empty field, so it was your turn to look for him. Newt smiled at you as he saw you walk up. “I was starting to get worried.”

“Yes, I am sure it must have been really hard to find me as I was in the same place the whole time.” you rolled your eyes. It didn’t seem to bother him. His smile was still there.

“I know where you were. Just thought you wanted some time to be by yourself. At least, you looked like you needed it.”

“Oh, thanks” the heat rising in your cheeks was starting to become obvious. You walked up to Newt. He was leaning against a big tree, hiding in the shadow of it. In his hands he held a small piece of wood and a carving knife.

“What you doing there?” you asked.

“Not sure, actually.” he looked at the piece of wood. There was no real defined shape in it. “Just keeping myself busy.” you sat down next to him, also leaning against the tree. Now, it was a big tree, but not that big. To still be able to lean against, you also had to get pretty close to Newt. It didn’t seem to bother him at all. He kept on carving his little handiwork.

“So, how’s your first day going?” he asked you, still busy carving. You sighed. Not from anger, exhaustion or annoyance. It was a type of sigh that let the other know you had to think. “I’m not sure.”

“I know what you mean.” he chuckled under his breath. His effortless smile made you smile.

“I’m not sure you do. Something here feels familiar. I just don’t know what. It feels like…” you stopped for a moment, “Nevermind.” It made Newt look up from the wood and knife. He raised an eyebrow at your obscure comment.

“What do you mean?”

“No, it’s nothing.”

“(Y/N),” he leaned away from the tree to turn towards you. His eyes pierced straight into yours. “I know you’ve been here for less than a day, but some people here - including me - are here for over a year. We keep telling people there is a way out, but I swear that when I tell you we have tried everything, we have tried everything. If there is a slight chance that you can remember anything, even if it is the smallest of details, you better bloody tell me.

“I uhm…” you dazed of in his eyes. Not even realising it. “It’s not exactly like that.”

‘Then what is it like?”

“I just don’t understand how I trust you already.”  it was your turn to look deep into his eyes. Your answer shook him up a bit.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s been a day, and we’ve been hanging out like we have been friends for… at least longer than that. I can’t remember a lot about myself, but I do have a feeling that being social is not my best skill.”

‘I’m sure you’re not that bad.” You appreciated Newt’s attempt on changing the subject.

“And I’m sure most of the guys here think I’m some crazy shovel bitch. Except for the pathetic introduction with Winston, Zart, Minho and Alby, you’re the only I have actually talked to.”

“Well, you’re the Greenie, I technically had to talk to you today as your guide.” he shrugged.

“But you don’t have to talk to me now, yet you still are.”

“Do you want me to stop talking to you?”

“See,” I pointed the not-so-obvious out to him, “that’s the thing. I don’t want you to stop. I don’t even know why? We barely know each other.” Newt didn’t say anything for some time after that. It was clearly written on his face that he was thinking. The soft wrinkled on his forehead were contracted and released with every other movement of his eyes. As he was thinking, he carved some more of his wood. It started to gain shape, but from your angle it wasn’t exactly distinguishable.

“What if we knew each other? Just not here.” he suggested eventually. You gave him a look of confusion, as it didn’t make any sense. “What if we knew each other before we were thrown in here?”

“Do you think that’s possible?” you asked him.

“I don’t know. It would explain a lot, wouldn’t it?” he said.

“Yeah, but then again no. Nothing about this place makes any sense.”

“I would like to say that as time goes by, it’s easier to understand,” he laughed sadly, “but, to be honest, it only gets harder.” Another silence broke out between you. This was another thing that started to make you question this whole thing. How could silence around complete strangers be comfortable? Newt didn’t feel like a stranger. On the contrary, he felt as the exact opposite. It just happened to be that you didn’t know what “that opposite” exactly was.

“Here,” Newt handed you the little piece of wood. You examined it quickly: the shapes were rough. Rustic, as some would call it. It made it bit harder to find a shape in it, however after a while you got it.

“It looks like a cat.” you laughed.

“Thank you!” Newt clapped his hands together, “I couldn’t figure out what it was.”

“It’s cute.” with a sheepish smile, you wanted to give it back. Newt pushed your hand back and started to refuse: “No, no, no. Keep it. I have a feeling you were a cat person before this place.”

“No idea.” you shrugged and took the small cat back. You looked at it once again. It also looked familiar. Some kind of deja vu was forming around it. As if you had gotten it once before. You looked up from the kitten to the boy next to you. “Have you been doing this long?”

“I started when I got here. I have no idea if I had done it before I got here.”

“How good were you when you carved your first one?”

“I never thought about that,” he looked at you and at the wooden cat in your hand, “it was just something I could do. I guess I must have done it before then.” without another word he leaned back against the tree, looking up at the sky that was becoming darker and darker by the minute. There was no worry in his head. Even with all those crazy things around you. You, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to calm down. Was it more than just deja vu?