#basically hans asks the who was better in bed question. you can imagine how that goes :|

[toyboy-molloy]

what if hans found out about henry and bartosch and was very hans about it (x) 🤔

[rhaeverie]

Me and You Against the World ‣ hjs

‣ genre: royalty!au, arranged marriage, female reader, pls read an!

‣ wc: 4.7k

‣ summary: "I don't understand why they judge when they don't even know you…"; in which you don't let the words of others get in the way of your relationship with Jisung

‣ warnings?: Itzy is mean in this (but it doesn't reflect how they are irl!), prejudice due to less wealth, lots of thinking

‣ an: These events are what leads to this fic but in a different 'era.' Basically, I decided to just write the ending of this fic in a rich kid au setting instead of a royal au setting and just post that,,, but since I already wrote a lot of it, I decided to post it! It can be read separately but this doesn't have a proper ending.

i.

You can vividly remember the reactions of all the other princesses when they found out you were arranged to marry none other than Prince Han Jisung. They snickered and laughed. They blatantly shared pitiful glances, taking turns to pat your shoulder as if it could bring you a sense of comfort.

Of course, at the growing age of fourteen, you had no idea why they had been acting as so. From images and stories you received of the Prince, he seemed like someone who would be easy to get along with. So why the judgmental looks?

"They're the poorest of all the kingdoms, Y/N," Yeji pointed out, "Your kingdom is one of the richest, of course, after mine. Don't you think that's rather odd?" She traced the laces of her gloves and scoffed discourteously.

You bring the teacup up to your mouth, eyeing your friend curiously, "What do you mean by that?" You gulped, afraid that the image of your family name would be stained. It was not your choice, however, nor your parents'. You had been drawn to be last when choosing a suitor, and naturally, from the apparent reputation and wealth of the Han family, their son was the last left to be selected.

Yeji scoffed, the other princesses laughing at how naive you've been acting, "Obviously, their family's going to leech off of your family. I think your parents should rethink their decision of choosing Han Jisung as your future husband."

Shaking your head, you frowned at the meaningless words that your friend had been spitting out, "I don't think that's needed… Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Help each other out? How bad can Han Jisung be?”

Lia finally speaks up, "I heard that he rolls around the mud with their pigs."

"And… he doesn't even take a bath after doing so," Yuna budges in. She stirred the cooling tea with a miniature spoon, a smirk rising up to her lips, "Imagine how his bed smells. Rancid."

"I hear he's poor-mannered, too… that he lacks the respect a prince should need towards others," Ryujin says stiffly, "Just generally not fit to be a king. I feel bad for you, Y/N."

There was a brief silence between the six of you, the sound of Yuna's spoon tapping the sides of the cup occupying that silence. Though you felt yourself frown at the possibility that you were to be married to an ill-mannered prince, you quickly shook those thoughts out and tried your best to ignore them. You were taught never to be driven towards believing rumours or gossip in this case. Who were they to judge someone they never met? Except for Yeji, who met him through her brother.

"I ask you all not to pity me in any sort," you finally say, "Not until I've met him. Besides… those are just rumours. He could be much better than you hear." Satisfied with how you handled the situation, you straightened your back and took a long sip of your tea, mentally preparing yourself for your first meeting with the Prince.

—

Upon arriving at the valley region, the kingdom owned by the Han's, you immediately understand why your parents settled with their son. Though you were last to choose your suitor, your parents and his parents seemed to be closely acquainted, smiles on their faces and direct contact as they greeted each other. You stood back, watching the exchange begin and end, rather amused at how happy both sets of parents looked.

"I'm so happy you all arrived safely," the Queen of the valley region clasped her hands. The King nodded and let his wife continue, "And I'm so glad that our children are to be married by chance… All the other young princesses chose, while you–" She looked over your mother's shoulder and at you, "You and my precious son fell into this arrangement by fate's doing! The world wanted this."

Your mother responded by smiling fondly, "I never viewed the situation like that!" They begin to move up the stairs towards the front entryway, the knights moving along the four majesties. You followed closely behind, listening in on the conversation as you let your eyes wander around. "My mother had been upset that Y/N fell last, telling me I would not be able to choose the best," your mother began, "But I don't see any problem with that."

Compared to other castles you've visited, you could definitely see how much wealth the Hans did have. It was still very much a beautiful castle. It was well-kept and unique in build. Something drew you to it. But you couldn't exactly point out what part of it did.

"I understand your mother's perspective," the King chuckled, "No one likes being last. However, I believe that in such matter, no one is stuck with the 'worst.'"

At this point, everyone had entered the castle, and this was when you could see that the Hans were, in fact, less wealthy than the other royal families. Much of the furniture and interior decorations were quite old, almost antique, but again, it was a feature of the castle that drew you in. The outside of the castle looked much larger than the interior.

"Ah! I almost forgot," the Queen turned to look at your family, "My son is out and about exploring. We instructed him to come in time to greet you guys at the entrance but boys his age never listen." At the mention of Jisung, you almost forgot about him, causing your curiosity to rise.

"Miss Kim?"

A lady appeared from another room, hurriedly approaching the Queen with a bow, "Yes, your majesty?"

"Please escort Princess Y/N to Prince Jisung," she instructed gently, "It will be nice for them to get acquainted while we continue with our conversation about this arrangement."

Miss Kim nodded and waved you over with a motherly smile, "Let us go, Princess." You quickly bid your parents goodbye before trailing behind Miss Kim. Though her legs were short, she moved with ease, almost flying down the corridor with a constant speed. She didn't look back to see if you had still been following her as your footsteps helped her indicate your presence.

"I suspect the Prince is somewhere by the garden," she mutters urgently, "Or by the river."

"River?" you questioned. The idea of a river caused you to smile. Your family ruled the mountain region, meaning there were not many rivers to visit. A river would be a nice change in scenery. Miss Kim finally leads you out of the back of the castle, the sight of flowers taking over your line of sight.

"Prince Jisung?" she called out, "Prince Jisung?" It was rather enjoyable seeing Miss Kim run around frantically in search of the Prince. Your mind wanders back to the conversation you had with other princesses, how the Prince is ill-mannered, one who was not fit to be a king. With his absence in greeting you and your family, you're afraid that the other princesses were actually correct with this information.

"I'm over here, Miss Kim!" a voice called out, "By the pond!"

Once again, Miss Kim waved for you to follow you. You hiked up your dress and tried your best to keep up with her speed, though she still kept the same pace she previously had. She walked straight down the stone path, turning right onto another pathway, and then left, finally revealing a beautifully decorated pond.

"Ah, there you are, my prince!" Miss Kim had been blocking your view of the third presence, marching towards the pond. You let her move ahead, allowing her to approach the Prince on her own, "The Y/L/Ns are here… your mother strictly told you that you should be there to greet them."

Still a voice with no face, you hear him reply, "I'm sorry, I lost track of time… I'm feeding the fish!" There was a moment of silence as the Prince went to stand up, finally revealing the frame of his body to you. He turns to face your direction. His head was kept down as he dusted off the dirt from his pants.

"Do I have time to chan–" The Prince finally noticed you standing yards away from him and Miss Kim, causing him to halt abruptly in his words, "–ge?"

"Your parents have ordered for you two to get acquainted," Miss Kim stated, "I assume I will be the one to call you both shortly for dinner." At this, she turns to hurry back, leaving you and the Prince alone.

He bows stiffly, "Nice to meet you. I'm Jisung."

He bowed… that's a good indication of manners, right? You curtsy, "I'm Y/N."

"I know who you are," he says happily, beginning to walk back towards the main path. You follow, "You know they call you the 'Snow Princess' here? Which I don't understand because the mountains aren't always filled with snow." He looks back to see if you followed him, "Do you mind if we drop our titles with each other? We are at the same standing."

"I don't mind," you replied. You're taken aback at his apparent tendency to talk, "We are arranged to marry in a few years…."

"Well, Y/N," he begins, a bright smile on his face, "How should we begin?"

You watch as he advances forward, hands swinging carelessly, something you were taught never to do. As a princess, you were taught to cross your hands in front of you to give you a poised appearance. Jisung had a hop in his step, his posture could be straighter, and his hair was unkempt. You could already say that Yeji's brother, Hyunjin, was probably the opposite of Jisung. He kept himself tidy, he came on time to schedules and never interrupted when another was speaking. This is perhaps what Ryujin meant when she said Jisung was not fit for a king.

"How do you like to spend your time?" You questioned. You figured that this was a way to start a conversation, hoping that it would blossom into another.

Jisung hummed in thought, "If I'm not doing my studies or sleeping, I tend to spend my time here… just deep in thought." He raised his arms, presenting the garden to you.

"You don't go horseback riding? How about practicing swordsmanship?"

He shrugs, "We're short on horses right now, and my father is prioritizing the knights with the horses since they need it. As for swordsmanship, my mother wants me to wait until I'm older."

Short on horses?

"Ahhh, I understand," you nodded awkwardly, "If you ever come to my kingdom, I'll take you horseback riding! You seem like the person who would love doing it."

This sparks a feeling of joy in Jisung, a smile reflecting it, "That would be really nice! I'll look forward to that." He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his dress pants, "How about you? How do you spend your time?"

"I do studies, like you… I read, visit the village. Horseback riding, of course… suddenly I can't think once I'm asked," you laughed, "But I'm often very active and doing my duties."

"Your life sounds a lot more interesting than mine," he grins, trying to laugh the sad reality off, "It's evident in the way you can't even list all of your activities." You could see his smile start to falter, bangs falling over his forehead as he looked down at his feet.

You feel your heart stutter, and soon you're frowning. The words you had told the other princesses echoed in your head. Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Help each other out?

Reaching out, you grab ahold of his wrist. At the sudden contact, he flinched slightly before relaxing at the realization, "You're still happy, aren't you?"

He nods gently, still dwelling on the fact that even though you both stood at the same social standing, his wealth didn't amount to yours, and he couldn't help but be embarrassed. He couldn't help but feel bad you were stuck with him as a future husband when it was quite obvious you could do better.

"Then that's what matters," you say. A part of you wanted to tell him not to compare his life to others, but you stopped yourself, refraining from creating emphasis on your wealth and his supposed slight lack of it.

At your exchange of glances and sympathetic smiles, the footsteps of Miss Kim grew closer. Looking over, you see as she's waving you both over for dinner. Jisung nodded and held up a thumbs up to indicate that you both were going to follow, sending Miss Kim back to tend to the meal.

Jisung turns to once more, "Thank you, Y/N. I'll live by that."

–

"So?"

Yeji, Hyunjin, and Lia sat around the table, eyeing you as if you owed them something of great importance. You stared back at them, straightening your back as you become aware of the attention on you.

"Pardon?" What is it that you needed to tell them? You didn't recall promising them any sort of information, nor did you have news to pass on.

"How was your visit to the valley region?" Lia questioned, "Was it all as they say it was?"

Yeji leaned towards you, "And Prince Jisung? Was he ill-mannered?"

You mentally bring a hand to your forehead, comprehending what it was they were expecting from you. You assume they wanted you to traduce the Han family and their kingdom. But despite the obvious difference in wealth they had from the rest of the kingdoms and the fact that Jisung lacked the training he needed as a prince, you found no problems in the Han family.

"Their castle was unique," you begin, "It was beautiful, actually." You use a fork to poke into the sliced fruit laid out on a plate, bringing it to your mouth as you wait for their reactions. As anticipated, puzzled looks rose up onto their faces, rather confused about your comment. You continue, "The interior was beautiful as well. Not as extravagant as the Hwang family's castle, but it was still a sight to look at. It was adorned with flowers.

"As for Prince Jisung," you could feel some sense of protection over him, biting back your tongue from saying rude things to those in front of you, "He's just as much a prince as Hyunjin. He's playful and carefree, is all. So I hope you all should refrain from listening to the gossip being spread about the Han family, especially since they're going to be part of my family in the future." The three of them sat back and nodded. You wished you could laugh at the embarrassed and apologetic looks on their faces, but to their eyes, that would not be very polite of you.

ii.

It wasn't until two years later that Jisung had been actually able to visit your kingdom. Though you did enjoy visiting his kingdom and enjoying the change in scenery, having him come to yours was something you had wished for ever since you met him.

Over the past two years of getting to know each other, you had grown much closer than you initially expected. Jisung had a view on life that contrasted to yours in more ways than one, and learning of the different perspectives of the world allowed you to adopt an open mind. You believe that he made you a better princess and future Queen.

Likewise, Jisung has been able to get a taste of what a typical royal life is like through you. Though his family was still able to experience the everyday duties and privilege of being royalty, there were limitations when it came to his position. Through you, he could at least understand what other things were expected of him. As he grew physically, he grew mentally, learning to appear princely in front of others without completely stripping the playful personality he had around those close to him.

Regardless of what others did say about the Han family, the relationship between you both worked well in all sorts of ways. You would always think about what Jisung's mother had told your parents, how you both were brought together by fate, and in that sense, you guys were meant to be partners.

"Ready to ride horses?" You had a mischievous grin on your face as you pulled the boy behind you.

"Why are you smiling as if the horses could kill me?" Jisung eyed you suspiciously, genuinely afraid of what could happen next. He stumbled over his own feet as he followed you, scared yet excited.

You laughed, "I mean, they can, but they won't."

The two of you finally arrived at the stable, catching Seungmin placing the saddles onto the horses. He greeted you and Jisung with a bow before speeding up in doing his task.

"I promise you, I won't let you get hurt in any way," you say. You asked Seungmin to bring the horse out for Jisung, who refused to guide the horse without experience, "You'll get the hang of it. Watch me get on and do the same."

He nods, listening to every single syllable of your words. Setting your left foot onto the stirrup, you grab hold of the saddle and heave yourself up after a couple of bounces on your right foot. You swing your leg over your horse, Blizz, with ease, quickly making yourself comfortable on the horse.

"That… that can't be too hard…." Jisung muttered. He mirrors what you previously did, setting his foot onto the stirrup and grabbing hold of the top of the saddle. You watched as he bounces countlessly on his right foot, unable to find the right time to pull himself up.

"Do you need help, Prince Jisung?" Seungmin questioned. You almost forgot that he was standing aside because of how amused you had grown in watching Jisung.

Jisung shook his head, mentally shooing Seungmin away as he finally times everything right and heaves himself up. Forgetting to throw his leg over the horse's, Buran, body, for a brief moment, Jisung's body had been doing over the horse, hovering as his foot stuck to the stirrup.

"Sung, throw your leg over!" You exclaimed, holding back a laugh. You shouldn't even laugh, as he barely rides horses, but you couldn't help but find the situation hysterical. Jisung was close to panicking, but right when he was going to back off of the horse, he finally found the courage to build momentum to swing his leg over.

"I did it!" He gasped. Jisung shifted slightly on the saddle to make himself comfortable, a proud and bright smile on his face.

"You're a natural!" You tease. You let Blizz move closer to Buran, mirroring Jisung's smile widely, "It's actually difficult getting on horses. I'm surprised you didn't have much trouble."

"Of course," he joked, winking, "I'm me."

You playfully hit his shoulder before going over the ways he was supposed to guide his horse. He listened carefully, never seeming to blink for the next ten minutes of your brief lesson, "I won't go any faster than this." You rode circles around Jisung, keeping your attention directly on him. Judging by the expression on his face, he was nervous to begin moving, "Are you ready?"

Jisung nods confidently, gesturing for you to go ahead of him so that he can follow.

"I'm staying beside you," you told him.

You both started off slow, following a man-made path that circled your family's castle. Jisung had great control of Buran, though his knuckles were white from the grip had on its reins. You assure him that he was okay, that Buran was well trained and would not go out of control even with the most hectic of occurrences.

"Are you sure you haven't ridden before?" You questioned, "Wanna speed up a little bit?"

He nods, "Not so quick, though… I want to ease into it." You nod understandingly as you both begin to speed up. He follows you, heart pounding at the possibility that Buran would not understand his controls, "I've ridden once before, but my father was the one controlling the horse… He let me hold onto the reins, but that was about it."

"How long ago was that?"

"When I was about five."

Making plenty of rounds around the castle, you decide to divert down the path down to the edge of the town. Jisung followed you, even moving slightly ahead, "Your kingdom is beautiful, Y/N."

"I could say that about yours, Sung," you catch up to him and let your gaze fall onto Jisung. The gentle breeze softly brushed through his hair, exposing his forehead. You could tell that he was slowly growing used to the feeling of riding. You figured that speaking to him was a great distraction from the nerves.

He smiles at the mention of his home before shaking his head, "Oh hush… this is about you." He returns your gaze, snickering once he gets a proper look at you. Despite you both being on horses, the space between you both would have been considered close.

"What's so funny?"

He reaches forward and picks out a leaf that had flown into your hair, "Since when did you get so messy?" Letting the leaf fly out of his hand, he winks jokingly at you, causing you to almost fall off Blizz.

"I've always been messy," you rolled your eyes. At the sight of the town, you advanced faster, making sure that Jisung was comfortable without your guidance, "The only reason my bedroom is not cave-like is because of the caretakers."

Jisung won't say it out loud, but somehow, flaws such as this made him fall harder for you. Though you appeared to fit how princesses should be, the more he learned about you, the more he understood that you were just as human as any of those he ruled and you ruled.

"Do you want to stop by the bakery before returning to the castle?" You turned back to look at Jisung, who had chosen to fall back slightly just to catch a glimpse of you, "You can meet Mr. Yang! He'll love you!"

Jisung nodded and trailed closely behind you, ensuring that he wouldn't lose you, not that he actually would lose you. The town's buildings grew closer, the townspeople walking to and from them.

It was nice to see the attire and the architecture of those who lived in your region. Compared to Jisung's region, where people often wore sleeveless or short sleeves, the people wore longer sleeves and thin layers. Though the weather was not at all bad, he figured that they had grown used to this type of weather and generally wanted to dress warmer. The buildings were built on top of platforms that separated the actual structure from the ground, probably to avoid the permafrost during colder days.

"We're here," you turned back, noticing the awe in Jisung's expression. He shook the look off and smiled, slowing the speed of his steed just as u had, "I wonder if Jeongin is in! I've known him since I was younger."

Jisung took time to hop off his horse before dusting off his trousers to make himself look presentable. You were ensuring that the horses were tied tightly at a nearby post, waiting for Jisung to join you. Once he had done so, you both made your way into a large building, the name of the bakery on the front: Yang-Yum Bakery.

"Mr. Yang!"

"Princess! Welcome!" An older man had his head raised over the counter, a deep smile on his face, "And is this Prince Jisung?" He stood up straight and bowed, "Welcome to my bakery. Princess Y/N has told me so much about you!"

Jisung felt his ears warm up before smiling back, "Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Yang."

The baker kept the smile on his face as he moved down the counter towards his baked goods, "What would you like? It is on me today as a welcome gift to the Prince."

Jisung's eyes widened at the selection of goods, his mouth watering at how good they all looked. He could hear you thanking Mr. Yang, "Is Jeongin helping out today?"

"Unfortunately not, Princess. He's out doing errands for Mrs. Yang," Mr. Yang retorted. You nodded understandingly before turning your attention down towards the treats. You spot your favourite ones, the meringue cookies, and then the honey-bread, a close second.

"What do you want, Sung?" You questioned quietly, gesturing to Mr. Yang the two choices, "You'll probably enjoy any of them." You could see his eyes moving back and forth across the options, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"I'd like those," Jisung points towards egg tarts, "And those, please." His finger pointed towards strawberry cream croissants, a satisfied look appearing on his face.

"Coming right up," Mr. Yang smiled and prepped the baked goods for you and Jisung, tying them into a cloth bag. He pushed it towards you with a warm smile, "I hope you enjoy them all. See you, Princess. It was a pleasure to meet you, Prince Jisung." He bowed and softly waved.

You and Jisung bowed back before taking your leave. Soon you both were back outside, people still carrying out their duties. They had not noticed that you were present, which you did not really mind. It was nice not being the center of attention once in a while. And while Jisung was here, you didn't want the usual fuss that occurred when you visited the village.

Speaking too soon, a younger girl noticed your attire, immediately indicating that you were a royal. She smiled and curtsied, "Afternoon, princess."

"Afternoon," you smiled back.

At that small exchange, others followed in pursuit, also noticing the presence of the Prince next to you. And because they did recognize him, you couldn't help but take note of the fact that people were whispering, which wasn't what usually occurred when you were in town.

Upon hearing Jisung's name in their hushed remarks, your ears perked, miraculously gaining the ability to hear the words they spoke, "Isn't that the Prince of the valley? The poorer kingdom."

"Yes… you can tell just from how he's dressed."

Shaking your head, you tune out the insults being 'secretly' thrown towards Jisung, who, judging by the look on his face, could also hear them talk. It was sad how people were so quick to judge.

"This is Prince Jisung," you say confidently, "The one who I will marry in a few years' time… I ask that you respect him as much as you respect my father."

They shut their mouths, bowing to follow what you had asked of them. Jisung's gaze fell onto you, hundreds of thoughts rooted from different beliefs clashing inside his head. The people had dispersed, leaving the two of you alone.

Though you smiled at him, he couldn't help but feel bad that you had to stand up for him. Every time someone mentioned the wealth of his kingdom, he couldn't have but believed you deserved better, especially because there was a drastic difference between your family's wealth and his family's wealth.

Y/N shouldn't be going through this…

"Should we get going?" You questioned, "There are more things I want to show you." You acted so casually about such a situation that Jisung could sense that you've already been in a position. Just how many times have you stood up for him?

Though the idea should be giving him a sense of comfort, he still felt as though he should be doing something in return. Securing yourselves back on the horses, you begin making your way back to the castle. There was a short period of silence before Jisung had spoken up, "You don't need to defend me, you know. But thank you."

You glance over at him and frown, "I don't understand why they judge when they don't even know you… And as your future wife, it is my duty to defend you. Besides, if it were the other way around, you would do the same."

That night, Jisung couldn't help but let the words play over in his head. You were right. He would do the same for you, but it was because he adored you. Did this mean that you felt the same?

"Part Two"

[literaryfic]

Chapters: 1/?
 Fandom: 빈센조 | Vincenzo (TV) 
Rating: Explicit
 Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong/Hong Cha Young
Characters: Hong Cha Young, Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Italian Mafia, (i know nothing about the mafia so this will be very inaccurate!!!), basically vincenzo & cha-young being mafia bosses in italy


Summary: When Vincenzo Cassano came back to Italy, no one expected to see someone by his side. Or how Cha-young and Vincenzo became the head of the Cassano family. a mafia couple au inspired by a discussion with @ourgalaxybangtan @ghostrights & @whovie-reloaded

  Vincenzo had been handling most of the family business since their adoptive father’s health had started to decline. As the consigliere of the Cassano family, he was Fabio’s most trusted man, his advisor, his lawyer but also his second-in-command.

It hadn’t been easy, all these years, to climb the ladder. He wasn’t a native, he wasn’t blood, and so not many people had welcomed him at first. That’s why he had to become ruthless, so that no one could deny his authority or even dare to try. He had killed and tortured many men, broken their minds and their bones, burned their flesh and cut off their limbs, ashes and screams trailing behind him. If he wasn’t proud of the blood on his hands, he was at least proud of his work. All the hours he’d spent training, fighting, preparing, scheming, studying, all his efforts to erase Park Joo-hyung from the face of earth had paid off. The scared, weak little kid was gone, buried with all his other victims. ‘An eye for an eye, and then some’, Vincenzo lived by that, and he would stop at nothing except killing the innocent. There was no doubt he was the best at what he did and anyone who did not respect him feared him enough to not threaten him. His success was the Cassano family’s success, yet he knew that members of his own clan would not hesitate to have him killed if they could. Two clear factions had formed in the past five years, those who supported Vincenzo as the next head of the family, and those who supported Paolo, his brother. Paolo and Vincenzo had never gotten along, and Paolo’s inferiority complex and jealousy grew deeper every time his older brother had to clean up after one of his rushed job. Paolo had a particular taste for violence. Whereas Vincenzo killed and tortured because he had to, Paolo got a kick out of hurting others, be it children, women or elders. He loved to assert his dominance, to feel almighty. Vincenzo didn’t think himself much better than him, (regardless of the reasons behind his murders, he’d probably killed way more than him), but he wanted Paolo to be punished for his sins. It was only a matter of time before some influential family members whispered plans of assassination and of ‘restoring the rightful heir’ into his ear. Paolo was an angry, frustrated man who wasn’t particularly good at his job, an easy puppet to control. He’d been watching them carefully but he knew that as long as his father was alive, no one would dare to touch him. Back then he had thought he would take care of them when it came to it, become the head of his family, and continue to rule the underworld. Then, the incident happened and everything changed. He hadn’t been able to sleep for weeks, his victims’ screams haunting his dreams. He started avoiding mirrors, his reflection taunting him. He barely ate anymore, and Fabio had reminded him to get a grip. So he had done just that. He drank himself to sleep or took sleeping pills, and he went on. He knew, however, that he could not go on like this much longer. He had to get out before he buried himself next to Park Joo-hyung and all the others whose lives he’d taken. He’d started to plan his escape secretly. He would wait until his father died, staying loyal to him as long as he was alive. When the time came, he knew Paolo would try to kill him. The power struggle between them would start as soon as the head of the family would die, but instead of destroying his opponents, Vincenzo would seize the opportunity to leave. He would go back to South Korea, get the gold and leave to an island, where he would spend the rest of his days. The death of his previous Chinese client was perfect timing. As expected, Fabio, his boss and adoptive father, had named him the next head of the family in his will. It came to no surprise to most members, but murmurs spread quickly, “Can you imagine? A foreigner, as the head of our family? What has the world become?”. After wrapping things up in Italy, Vincenzo promised himself to never return, throwing away the key to the graveyard of his sins. …. There’s no going back from this, he thinks. Vincenzo is still holding Cha-young’s face, unable to look away from her lips, still wet from the kiss. Her pink cheeks, her smeared lipstick, the freckles under her fondation. Her. Hong Cha-young. His heart is soaring in his chest, all the emotions he had desperately tried to silence erupting all at once. There was no point in denying it, he had fallen in love with her. All he could do now was break his own heart, hoping it would heal. …. He realises he can’t live without her after she gets injured. They’re trying to get more information on Jang Han-seok’s paper company, and this time they’re trying to prove that some of the transactions made to European bank accounts were bribes. They’re breaking into none other than the Minister of Economy and Finance, Cha Do-won’s house. Miri had made sure to deactivate the security system and cameras, and Vincenzo was in charge of securing the place while Cha-young searched for the secret ledger the Minister kept hidden in his office. Cha Do-won was making a speech right now, and they had assumed most of his personal security would be with him. Vincenzo had quickly incapacitated the few men around the house and Cha-young looked for the ledger. After a few minutes, she found a hidden drawer in his desk. There it was, a thick documents labelled 'Accounts’. Subtlety wasn’t one of his strong points, apparently. They were about to leave when suddenly, a dozen men started to raid the place. Vincenzo fought them off as best as he could, and he was grateful that Mr. Lee barged in to help. They thought they had them all beat, and so Vincenzo made a mistake. He turned his back to the door to look for Cha-young, who he thought was behind him. “Vincenzo!”, he heard her shout his name. He sees her across the room, about to get struck by a man. He rushes to her and knocks him out quick enough. “Oh my God”, she says, “Did you see that? I almost died! He had a knife as well, and I dodged it, and then I ran—”. She keeps rambling while they get out of the house and into their car, clearly in shock. She’s getting paler as time passes, and he only notices the blood that pooled on the seat when she tries to get out of the car. She was stabbed, but the shock and adrenaline had prevented her from feeling any pain. “Oh”, she says, looking down at her wound. Vincenzo jumps out of his seat and rips the bottom half of the T-Shirt he’s wearing. “I don’t think now’s the time for that, Darling.” Even in a life-threatening situation, Cha-young is joking around. Vincenzo’s mind stops, he feels paralysed by fear, the fear of losing her, of her dying in his car, because of him. He pushes those thoughts away as he holds the fabric to her wound. “Hold this, as hard as you can.” The rest of the car ride to the hospital is a blur of running red lights, speeding in between traffic and repeating “Hong Cha-young, stay with me.” Vincenzo had faced death everyday for the last 20 years. He had killed, had seen people kill and had almost died countless of time. “There’s no limit to fear”, he’d once said to Jang Han-seok’s informant. Only now, waiting for Cha-young’s surgery to be over, does he understand what those words truly mean. During 6 hours, Vincenzo pleads and begs God, the devil, anyone willing to listen (Don’t take her. Everyone but her). He makes empty promises (I’ll do anything. I’ll stop hurting others, I’ll disappear from her life) and meaningless threats (Don’t you dare take her. I’ll kill you, too). In the end he doesn’t know who answers his prayers, and what promises seals the deal, but Cha-young wakes up and he doesn’t care. He holds her hand, stays by her side, and vows to never leave her. He starts to plan for an escape route shortly after that. In case they can’t stay in South Korea and need to take off. First, he thinks of Malta, or another island. But they would need to go somewhere they have allies, somewhere with an easy access to emergency money and resources. Italy. He contacts Luca and sets everything up, a two bed-room apartment, two bank accounts, and everything they could ever need like cash, some guns, and a car. “Consigliere, will there be another person with you?”, Luca asks. “Hopefully it won’t come to that”, he avoids the question. He knows he promised not to come back, but some promises need to be broken out of necessity. He needed to make Cha-young was safe, at all cost. His brother’s betrayal had made it easier. He’d been caught in the crossfire of their fight against Babel, killed by Choi Myung-hee in order to frame Vincenzo. But they had proved his innocence, and sent back his corpse in Milan. After Fabio’s death, Paolo hadn’t been the best replacement, and after he was killed in South Korea, they’d put in charge one of their cousins who had neither Fabio’s experience, nor Vincenzo’s mastermind. The family was in a crisis, which didn’t go unnoticed by their rivals. Soon, business started to slow down, their clients stolen by the competition and their allies started to switch teams. Money ran low. For that reason, Vincenzo didn’t run into much opposition when he came back. Most members and people in their business thought he had killed Paolo after he’d unreasonably followed him to South Korea and tried to finish him. Paolo only left disappointment and resentment behind him, and so no one missed him much. What they had not expected, however, was for Vincenzo Cassano to come back with someone.

[ve1vetyoongi]

better with you | ksj - 01

Chapters: index

Pairing: Seokjin x female reader

Genre: fake dating/arranged marriage!au, smut, angst, humour.

Word count: 19k

Summary: A part time job as a chef at Paradise Resort seems like the perfect way to spend your summer and save up some spare cash to open your own restaurant back home. That is until you cross paths with the CEO’s son who threatens to fire you if you don’t help him inherit his trust-fund-baby-fortune. How? By making you his fiancé. Well, his pretend fiancé at least.

Warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, spanking, semi-public sex.

A/N: uwu hello and welcome to the first chapter of better with you, part of the paradise series! i hope you enjoy reading these characters as much as i enjoyed writing them because they’re some of my favourites 🥺💘 p.s. im honestly not happy with the pacing of this chapter, but i really wanted to share, so bare with me if it sucks!

Paradise Resort and the people in it are nothing like how you imagined them to be.

Sure, Paradise is a picturesque gated community with sparkling lake views surrounded by pear trees and sprawling green lawns and white stone fountains like the website described. And sure, everyone here drives foreign cars and loiters by the pool on weekdays and drinks bubbly for breakfast from fine China beneath chandeliers which glisten in the morning sun.

But you quickly realise there is something off; something that doesn't quite fit the expectations you had when you arrived here at the start of the summer, wide eyed and excited.

And that something is you.

You aren't one of the balding golfers leisurely steering carts across the perfectly pruned Paradise grass, flirting unashamedly with pretty young women in tennis skirts as they pass. And you aren't one of their wives, leaving lipstick stains on crystal wine glasses in wicker chairs on balconies as they giggle over finger food and afternoon tea and ignorance of their husband's infidelities.

And you certainly aren't the type of girl to spend her summer's horseback riding or wielding badminton bats or sipping copious amounts of white wine, paid for a la daddy's credit card.

No, because you are a culinary major. Nothing more nothing less. And lucky for you, Paradise was hiring - at least for the summer, anyway, and who better to work overtime in the kitchens at the expense of rich dudes other than broke students, right?

While most people came to Paradise to unwind and celebrate another year of prosperity, it was simply your job to watch from the kitchen window, grit your teeth and save enough cash to put towards opening your own restaurant back home.

Which is exactly how you find yourself slaving away over a plate of scallop sashimi on the stickiest day of August as the kitchen gets ready for the biggest event in Resort history — at least according to your fellow summer employee and designated dish washer duty-man Park Jimin, who seemed to be a constant fountain of gossip -- a trait which you secretly liked him for, despite feigning disinterest in his tittle-tattle.

"Do these people even know what good food is?" You frown at an underwhelmingly small plate of goat cheese salad as you wipe the edge of the plate with a cloth. "They can't seriously want to eat this. Don't they ever just, like, want a burger or something?"

"You're just noticing this place is bonkers?" Jimin snickers behind you, hoisting his weight onto the counter and pulling a grimace of his own when he lay eyes on the limp pile of lettuce leaves they dare to refer to as a meal here. "I saw someone order dessert for breakfast yesterday. Rich people have no rules, Y/N. Besides, it's not like we can serve burgers once Mr Kim arrives."

"Mr Kim?" You ask curiously. "Who's that?"

Jimin's eyebrows furrow, like he can't actually believe you're asking him such a question. Ever since you got here at the beginning of the summer he's been diligently keeping you up to date with the latest Paradise gossip, so you aren't sure why he's surprised you're as out of the loop as ever.

"Mr Kim. The founder of Paradise’s son?" You shrug, blinking at him cluelessly and Jimin shakes his head with a pained expression, lowering his voice like he's utterly appalled at your ignorance. "You haven't heard anything about the guy who is gonna take over this place once his father retires? Kim Seokjin?"

Ah, so that's who the infamous Seokjin is. His name has been buzzing through the kitchen for the last week, much to your confusion, and apparently he would be dining in the restaurant tonight.

You heard the senior chef's were working over time to perfect the cherry clafoutis he personally requested (despite not being an on-the-menu dish) and his impending inheritance of his father's dynasty seemed a topic of hot gossip, spreading in hushed whispers from the bar girls out front to the janitor, everyone seemingly desperate to get a glimpse at the Kim Seokjin. Meaning there are only two possible reasons as to why: he is rich or he is filthy rich.

"So what's the big deal with this guy. Is he some sort of celebrity or something?" You nudge Jimin in the ribs as you return to your station and start to sauté a fresh batch of onions. 

"Nah, just filthy rich." Jimin indulges and you nod. Just as I thought. "And goddamn hot if I should say so myself." He adds, returning to his dish washing station with a sigh, wrinkling his nose when his hands plunge into the soapy suds.

"Still, I don't see why I need to work over time for him." You grumble. The clock had chimed five o clock ten minutes ago and usually you'd be on your way to have a shower and shampoo the smell of grease and garlic out of your hair but instead you were still on the clock, orders lining up for you to prepare and stat. "What’s so special about him dropping by for dinner. Everyone here is rich."

"Well I was talking to one of the big guys," Jimin nods towards the senior chefs. "And apparently his parents have been trying to get him to marry his girlfriend for, like, ever." Jimin's voice dips to a whisper. "But get this. He broke up with his girlfriend last week when his parents suggested they get married!"

You narrow your eyes. "Right. So I'm working over time because some rich dude decided to throw his toys out of the stroller?"

Jimin rips off his pink rubber gloves and shakes you by the shoulders, like he’s trying to knock some sense into you. "Just shut up for a second would you? We're working overtime because his parent's have set him up on a date!"

You slap a hand over mouth, letting out an exaggerated gasp. "Not a date!"

"I know right!" Jimin shakes his head as if this is the scandal of the century, not quite sharing your sarcasm. "Can you believe it?"

"Is he talking about Kim Seokjin, again?" Jungkook, one of the summer buss boys, emerges from the restaurant through the double doors in his familiar black uniform. Jimin quickly smoothes down his hair, mentally chastising himself when soap suds coat his blonde locks, face burning as red as the tomatoes you chop beside him. It's common knowledge that Jimin has the biggest, all consuming crush on the oblivious chestnut haired waiter who flashes you an ever cheeky bunny smile now as he scoops up the dish you prepared onto the tray balanced on his forearm. 

He shoots Jimin an eye roll. "All he talks about is Kim Seokjin this, Kim Seokjin that." Jungkook shrugs. "I really don't see what the big deal is about this guy."

Jimin crosses his arms sulkily and you have to stifle a laugh at the pair. "The big deal is that this date has to go well - no, perfect - because Seokjin needs to marry someone "parent approved" or else his father will reject him as the heir of his dynasty."

You want to ask him about his impressive eavesdropping abilities but you have to admit, this is pretty big news - especially around here where the latest hot gossip was Han Seojin's husband's gambling problem when he hit up the casino after a few too many brandy's.

"So basically, the fate of the resort lies in his hands tonight." Jimin adds excitedly as he slams the dishwasher closed with a triumphant grin.

You roll your eyes. That is surely a bit dramatic. The guy was probably too blinded by the riches he would be inheriting to care about the poor girl he was getting hitched too. "You're invested in this, huh?"

Jimin nods eagerly. "Like I said. He's hot. Like sex on legs hot."

If you weren't watching carefully you may have missed Jungkook's eyes narrowing slightly or the way he tenses and puffs out his chest. "Pfft. He is not."

"So is!" Jimin pouts. "You're just jealous you're not as inhumanely gorgeous as he is." Jungkook raises a brow and Jimin rushes to smooth over his words. "Not that you're not gorgeous! No, that's not what I mean—"

The awkward moment is interrupted by the sound of a ladle banging against a frying pan, and you let out a groan when you hear the unmistakable yell of the head chef. "Attention everyone!"

"Speaking of crazy people." Jimin mutters with a roll of his eyes, rolling up his uniform sleeves and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand as all the employees gather in the centre of the kitchen. "Looks like Hoseok got out of the wrong side of bed again."

You stifle a giggle when you find that Jimin is in fact correct, head chef Hoseok rounding the corner with an ever serious expression on his face. He has always been the stern type, mouth constantly fixed in a permanent frown as he criticises your dicing skills or catches you burning another steak, but you can see by the bluish bags under his eyes and the furrowed lines etched into his forehead that he means business today and a hush quickly falls over the kitchen apart from the gentle hiss of frying onions.

"As you all know, today is a big day for Paradise." He begins. "Each and every one of our future's here as employees depends on it. Mr. Kim has chosen us to cater for his dinner date and I need each and every one of you to do everything you can to make sure it goes smoothly. Capeesh?"

Dang. Is head chef Hoseok himself nervous? He's usually irritatingly confident in his cooking abilities. Maybe this was more serious than you thought...

"I'm counting on you guys to prove our worth, you hear me? It's already an honour that he picked us to host such an important event, and if we fumble who d'ya think he's gonna fire first once he takes over as CEO?" Hoseok interrupts your train of thought, waving a wooden spoon now like he's conducting an orchestra. "Which is why I expect zero funny business. I'm looking at you Jeon Jungkook! Now scram, we have customers to feed."

A unanimous groan fills the room as everyone gets back to work, and the kitchen falls into a state of turmoil as the clock ticks away, Seokjin due to arrive in a few hours and you haven’t even started on his appetizer yet.

"This better be worth it." You grumble to yourself, suppressing a smile when Jungkook bounds like a Labrador puppy into the restaurant fit  with an armful of salads yelling "Rabbit food coming up, y'all!", despite the stern look Hoseok sends his way.

You turn to Jimin, rolling your eyes at the hearts in his eyes for Jungkook as he strains his neck to get a glimpse of the chestnut haired boy's ass through the kitchen's window. He blushes when he notices you looking, but not before he’s flashing you a grin.

"Just wait until you see him," Jimin calls cheekily as you rush to the stove you had abandoned earlier. "Then you'll be glad you worked over time."

As it turns out, you are not glad you worked overtime. Kim Seokjin is late. Unfashionably late. So late that you are considering eating the dish you slaved over for nearly an hour to perfect to his preferences only for him to let it go limp and cold.

At least you could add another trait to the list of what you now know about Kim Seokjin: filthy rich, (allegedy) goddamn hot, heir to the resort and most importantly douche bag who can't make it on time to the first date with his future wife.

To make matters worse, the level of unrest in the kitchens is unlike anything you have ever seen before as everyone nervously awaits his arrival. Jungkook has been out front to polish the wine glasses at the private table he set up and lovingly adorned with candles and a bottle of iced champagne of the expensive kind because it would "create sexy vibes" more times than you can count. Hoseok took extra care with the placement of the parsley on top of the steaks he grilled and you even saw Jimin fixing his hair in the reflection of a shiny pan.

When the clock ticked over to eight, everyone had gathered around the small kitchen window, eyes beadily trained to the door. 

"He'll be here any minute now, I can feel it." Jimin whispers as he sidles up beside you, practically vibrating. His excitement for the date has started to rub off on you, a funny fuzzy feeling settling in your chest — all this Kim Seokjin talk has you itching to see the guy in the flesh, even if it is just from behind the kitchen window.

Sure enough, Jimin's Kim Seokjin senses must be somewhat accurate because a hurried hush falls across the kitchen as a black car pulls up outside, a unanimous gasp filling the room as you watch him emerge from behind the tinted glass windows in awe.

You were waiting for a tight lipped guy in a suit and tie to step inside; a younger clone of all the middle aged men who frequented the resort when their "model" children got busted bunking off from golf games or whatever rich kids did to rebel. Except the guy that strolls through the sliding doors like he has time to waste is so far from the average Paradise resident that you are almost sure you're hallucinating. Or have onion in your eyes. Surely you aren't seeing this clearly?

The guy who crosses the threshold and takes a seat at the table Jungkook graciously guides him to is clad in a vibrant Hawaiian shirt, the floral a stark contrast to the luxe interior of the resort. The garment is unbuttoned lazily and draped across his broad shoulders, a pair of round,humorously large sunglasses perched on the end of his nose, and if you weren't so shocked by his...impressionable entrance you might find the whole situation comical.

"This is Kim Seokjin?" You splutter, unable to stop the giggles that leave your lips at the sight of him bobbing his head unnecessarily hard to the monotonous classical tune that carries through the restaurant, blatantly ignoring whatever words Jungkook (who looked completely starstruck) was stuttering.

The situation becomes even more ridiculous when you see the disgruntled look on the pretty girl who traipses behind him awkwardly, dressed in a floor length gown and pearls, face turning sour when Seokjin neglects his manners and forces her to pull her own chair out to sit while he zones in on the bottle of alcohol in the centre of the table.

They look like characters out of two separate worlds. Jewels glitter on her fingers as she taps them agitatedly against the table, clearly as dumbfounded by the situation as you are, especially when she offers her glass to Seokjin to pour her a drink, only for him to thrust the entire bottle of wine in her face.

Your attention is drawn away from the unfolding scene momentarily when Jungkook flies back into the kitchen in typical Jungkook fashion, except this time with an extra bout of zealousness if the stars in his eyes weren't already obvious.

"I take it back!" He puffs, slipping his empty tray beneath his elbow, hands now free to swing Jimin around in circles. "He's the most beautiful human I've ever seen!"

You cross your arms with a sneer. "Looks like a goof to me. That shirt? Not a good look on anyone."

"But his face!"

"Yeah, his face, covered by those obnoxious glasses."

"You didn't see it." Jungkook whispers, pulling your hands into his own. "He could end mankind with that kind of face! And I bet he has a monster dong too-"

"Okay, jeez." You push him away, scrunching your nose in disgust. "No discussing customer's monster dongs in the kitchen."

"So you admit he probably has one?"

"Shush!" You hiss. The kitchen huddle lets out a synchronised gasp and you elbow your way back to the window, peering past a tall chef's hat to fix your attention on the scene which had somehow escalated ten fold since you'd left it.

Seokjin's body is wracked with laughter, hand slamming down ferociously against the table, making his date wince every time the fine china jumps on the table cloth. Her hands are placed carefully atop the napkin in her lap, food untouched as Seokjin takes the liberty to pour himself another glass of wine. He looks utterly uninterested in anything she has to say, and she seems embarrassed by his mannerless behaviour, glancing around anxiously. The tension between them is suffocating, even from your safe distance, and you swear you could cut it with one of the knives hanging from the utensil rack.

Then, Seokjin leans in towards her. He removes his glasses, carefully tucking them neatly into his shirt pocket before resting his chin in his palm to stare at her intently.

Maybe he was finally taking an interest in her? She seems to think the same thing, a small smile creeping onto her face despite her awkward demeanour.

Until it slips from her face nearly as fast as it appeared, replaced by an expression of pure appalled horror when Seokjin whispers something into her ear. You can only see the back of his head so lip reading is out of the question; but if the way her chin drops into her lap was anything to go by, you have a feeling whatever he said was not something you wanted to hear on a first date and probably not from your future husband, either.

Without further ado, the girl throws her cutlery down with a clash, gathering the fabric of her dress and storming out of the restaurant in a manner that suggests the date went badly to say the least.

A ruckus has broken out in the kitchen by this point; Jimin and Jungkook stopping mid monster dong debate to gawk, a rumble of chatter erupting as everyone processes the events you had just witnessed.

What did he say? Do you think it was the steak? What does this mean for Paradise? Is he still gonna marry her?

The last one came from Jungkook and you couldn't help but bite your lip in an attempt to smother the laughter that threatened to spill at his question. "Somehow I don't think he proposed to her just then, Kook."

Your eyes zone in on Seokjin again. He is slumped back in his seat now, knuckles pressed to his eyes. He looks exhausted, a sudden change in demeanour considering this is the same guy who was shooting finger guns at his date a few moments ago. Now he just seems defeated

For a moment you think he is going to get up and leave. That is until he twists in his seat, motioning towards the kitchen window with a crook of the finger. Dessert? He mouths.

The kitchen staff disperse hurriedly, a tinge of red creeping up Hoseok's neck at being caught spying, although it is clear by the smirk on Seokjin's face that he knew you were watching him all along. There is something in his eyes that even has you wiping the amused expression of your face, though. An authority.

"Could this night have gone any worse?" You ask Jimin, referring to Seokjin's debacle. Except Jungkook is quick to interject, thrusting two black bags in your face with a grin.

"For you, yes. Your turn to take out the trash."

You blink at him a few times before reluctantly taking the bags from his grip. They were heavy, nearly making you stumble. How had Jungkook held them so easily?

"Fine." You manage to get out between gritted teeth, struggling to balance with the extra weight in your arms. "But you owe me."

"Oh believe me," There is a glint in Jungkook's eyes that you can't quite put your finger on. What was he up to? "I'll make it up to you sooner than you think."

It's dimly lit when you stumble out back armed with a pile of trash bags, the only light source some fairy lights strung around the palm trees lining the restaurant. It takes all your strength and three tries to haul the heavy trash bags into the dark mouth of the dumpster and you're out of breath by the time you're finished.

Finally satisfied with your work, you wipe your hands on your apron and turn to stalk back inside and flick Jungkook's forehead - except a loud ringing from somewhere in the shadows stops you dead in your tracks.

You stiffen, hand reaching for the door handle as a precaution, head snapping towards the direction of the sound. You can't help the small gasp that leaves your lips when you take in the figure of a tall man leaning against the kitchen wall just a few meters away, the ringing ceasing when he lifts a phone to his ear with a frustrated groan.

Shit! As soon as you realise you're not alone and before you can think better of it you're scrambling behind the dumpster, crouching so that you're just out of view but still in earshot as the figure starts to murmur into the microphone.

"Yeah, dad, I know she flew all the way from Morocco to be here tonight. It's not my fault we weren't compatible!"

Huh? A voice squeaks on the other end of the line, and though you can't work out what they say exactly the frustrated sigh that leaves the man a few meters away tells you it wasn't exactly friendly.

"What makes you think you know what's best for me? I never wanted this stupid engagement in the first place!"

Intrigued and against your better judgement, you brace your hands on the edge of the dumpster and pull yourself on top of a cardboard box discarded beside it to get a better view of the scene. If you strain your neck you can just about see the shadow of a tall figure pacing back and forth just around the corner and you can't help but lean in a little closer to hear his harsh words more clearly, curiosity getting the better of you.

"Because it's my life! I'm sick of you and mom always telling me what to do with it." You raise an eyebrow, ever intrigued when the voice lifts from a hush to a yell. "Fine! I'll go on another date, but you'll see. I won't end up like you. You owe me big time for this, dad."

With that the phone call is cut off with a monotone beep and you see the shadow of the man pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing sharply, before the soles of his polished loafers crunch against the gravel in the direction of where you crouch, eavesdropping. You had enough experience with the residents here to know they wouldn't take this lightly — you had to sign a handful of NDA's before you even got the job, so naturally your eyes widen with panic when you realise you're about to get busted listening in on a confidential call. But before you can dive behind a trash bag and take cover, you lose your footing and find yourself hurtling head first into the dumpster, landing with a crash.

A few seconds pass, the footsteps ceasing as you squeeze your eyes shut and pray your beating heart doesn't give you away, before a voice calls out.

"Hello? Is someone there?"

"No!" You squeak hurriedly, slapping a hand over your mouth when it's already too late and flushing a deep shade of red when you hear a sharp intake of breath and you realise you've blown your own cover

You silently hope the guy will give up and leave, but then you hear someone climbing the outside of the dumpster and you open your eyes to see a puzzled pair of eyes peering down at you from beneath a cocked eyebrow, followed my a loud snort. "You need some help down there, sweetheart?"

This guy might be a total stranger, but any questioning words die on your tongue when you look around and remember you're literally trapped inside a dumpster and your upper arm strength is definitely not enough to get you out of this thing alone and — hold up, there's probably rats in here, right?

You scramble to your feet, brushing your messy hair from your eyes with a nervous laugh. "Uh...yeah. I guess I do."

A steady hand emerges over the edge of the dumpster and with a weak and embarrassed smile you grasp it, suppressing a squeak when the guy unexpectedly launches you over his shoulder so that he can pull you out in one fell swoop and set you safely on the ground.

"Uh, thanks." You manage to get out when you find your balance, awkwardly brushing some dirt from your apron. "Good thing you walked by when you did..."

"Yeah, guess you could call me your knight in shining armor, huh?" The guy chuckles, long and smooth like velvet. A laugh you've heard before, just moments ago in fact. That's when you battle through your embarrassment to look up and face him for the first time, flushing at the involuntary gasp that passes your lips.

The man before you has the deepest eyes you've ever seen, sharp yet soft around the edges beneath the sparkle of the low light and you shiver when they finish looking you up and down to stare into yours directly. Your eyes slip down to the familiar Hawaiian shirt draped over his broad shoulders, eyes widening when you look between your bodies to find his fingers still clasping your own as he eyes you with a curious interest.

"S-Seokjin?" You splutter. He nods, letting out a deeper chuckle this time as though he could hold it back no longer. "What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask you the same question," He counters, letting you go so he can reach into his pocket to retrieve a half pack of cigarettes and a lighter, ironically just beneath the unmissable NO SMOKING sign. "What's a pretty girl like you doing out here hauling trash at this hour?"

"I...work here."

He nods and you just stare at him like an open mouthed idiot. He must think it's because of the way he fiddles to spark a light at the end of his cigarette, drawing his eyes from the stick back to your surprised expression. "What? Oh these? I don't smoke. Stole these from my father's coat pocket." He shakes the box back and forth with a smug grin. "Nothing pisses him off more than loosing his Lucky Strikes. Besides, I own this place, I can do what I like."

You shrug. "Well, your father does." You are speaking too quickly, mentally pinching yourself for not being able to bite your own tongue. "He owns this place I mean. Right?"

A blush creeps up your neck under his gaze which narrows as he draws closer to you. His eyes are a deeper brown up close, like a pot of warm hot chocolate - soft at the edges where they crinkle into a smile at your rushed words. Nothing like the steely glares you usually got from residents here.

"Correct," The toe of his shoe kicks at the gravel beneath your soles while he strings together his next words carefully. "For now. I'll be proud owner of Paradise before the year is out, though."

"Ha." You can't help but snort under your breath, Seokjin's head simply tilting in response with an almost amused curiosity. "I don’t know about that. Didn't look like your fiance wanted to marry you very much."

"Word spreads quick around here, huh?" He lets out a dark laugh, grimacing at the cloud of nicotine that floats away into the nigh from the cigarette between his fingers that flutters to the gravel before it’s even reached his lips. You wince when he uses the toe of his Balenciaga’s to stub it out into a pile of smoldering ash before reaching for another one that he lights in the same way as before. "She wasn't my fiance, actually.To be honest, I hadn't even met her before tonight."

You let out an awkward laugh. "I take it the wedding's off then?"

"Ha ha," You practically hear the roll of his eyes. "At least one of us finds this funny, because my father sure as shit won't." His tone is suddenly chilly and for a moment you think you offended him, though a quick scan of his face reveals a turn up of the mouth that says otherwise. He kicks off from the wall, slinging his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans and you swallow thickly as the safe distance between you grows ever smaller, so close you can smell his woody cologne. "It was never on, per se. And it never will be if I have anything to do with it."

You can't help but scoff at the way he tightens his jaw and throws his arms across his chest like a toddler in time out. Sure, you hardly knew the guy but something about his attitude rubs you the wrong way. This is the guy who has everything, yet he's trash talking his lavish lifestyle to a summer employee? 

"You're kind of an asshole, huh?"

"Can't say I haven't heard that one before." Seokjin agrees with a smirk. "But you don't seem like much of an angel yourself. First I find you eavesdropping on me, save your ass from a dumpster and then you choose to insult me?"

You shift awkwardly under his intense gaze, worried you might have overstepped, mouth dry as you spit out a response. "I...I didn't mean it like that—"

"God, chill out would you? I’m kidding. You're so stiff it's stressing me out." His tongue snakes out to lick his lips thoughtfully. "You're different, y'know."

"Huh?"

"I can tell you're not like everyone else around here. You're honest." Seokjin explains, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt to allow him some more breathing room as he continues. "Everyone around here is either a liar or a cheat. Or both."

"You don't even know me." You huff.

"You don’t know me either, princess.” Seokjin smirks. “So what makes you so sure I'm an asshole?."

He blinks at you eagerly, and you realise he's serious when he arrogantly waves his hand for you to go ahead and indulge him, like he's somewhat amused.

Well damn. If this guy wanted honesty you'd sure as shit give it to him

"You want the truth?" You suck in a deep breath. "I don't know what I expected when I heard the buzz about you but it certainly wasn't a rich guy who wears hawaiian shirts and makes girls cry on first dates. I don’t need to know a single thing about you to know that you’re an ungrateful asshole, just like everyone else at this resort."

A few seconds pass, Seokjin's eyes widening in momentary surprise like he wasn't used to people telling him the truth, before his face breaks out into a beaming grin. "I have a feeling we're going to be good friends." He glances at your name tag. "Y/N, is it?"

You half nod before you register his words. "Friends, what do you mean—?"

Just then the phone in his grip starts to vibrate violently, and he holds it up so you can see the bold DAD that lights up the screen.

"Sorry to cut this short pretty, but I need to take this. Better get back to work before I cut your pay check, sweetheart." You must look visibly nervous because he bursts into laughter. "What? I'm kidding, remember?"

You roll your eyes, hiding the way your face heats up by spinning on your heels and storming back towards the kitchen, pausing briefly before you can turn the handle when you hear Seokjin call your name.

"Hey. Wait up! One piece of advice. Don't let this place, get to you, okay?" Seokjin calls with a smile. "I like your honesty, it's...refreshing."

And with that he lifts the phone to his ear, disappearing around the shadowy corner with an irritating smile and a finger salute.

For some funny reason, Seokjin's words ring out in your head for the rest of the night. I have a feeling we're going to be good friends. Something tells you that isn't the last time you're going to see Kim Seokjin, and you can't tell if the way your heart skips a beat is a good thing or not.

Much to your surprise, that isn't the last time you see Kim Seokjin.

The next night he returned equally as late and equally as eccentrically dressed and left his date, blonde this time, (though equally as pretty as the last one) flustered and red in the face as she stormed out of the restaurant with glassy eyes and crushed dreams

The night after that you spot him arguing a little too loudly with a feisty lady outside the restaurant, the way he doesn't even stay long enough to finish his champagne a clear indication that the date went less than perfect.

Night after night, the same scenario played out with different unimpressed women, until finally, they just stopped coming. No more girls. No more dates. No more of Seokjin's signature laughter permeating the entire restaurant. Sure, the guy was a complete asshole, that much was clear; but you his absence left the restaurant feeling even more lifeless than before.

Obviously Seokjin's fucked up dating life wasn’t anything to laugh about. But you had to admit his antics put a smile on your face, something which had been few and far between as of late. Even when Hoseok was working you overtime, you found yourself biting your lip to suppress a grin every time Seokjin waltzed through the door. And now he was gone, and with it your small escape from reality.

"Do you think his parents finally gave up?" Jimin sighs one late evening, shaking his wet hands in the face of Jungkook who bats him away playfully.

"Nah, he probably just found a girl he likes." Jungkook reasons. "Made his parents see things from his point of view."

You snort. "They don't sound like the type of parents who would give up that easy." After more dates than you could count on one hand with various suitors deemed good enough for their son, it was clear they were prepared for him to rebel. You doubted they would give in without a fight.

"You might be right..." Jungkook trails off, rushing to smush his face against the window. "Unless...wait! I think he's back!"

"He's back?" You breathe, elbowing Jungkook out of the way and ignoring his ow! of protest, your own breath fogging up the glass now as your eyes dart from table to table in search of a familiar face.

You let out a breathy laugh. Sure enough, there he is. Hair gelled back tonight you noted, bouncing his skinny jean clad knee beneath the table with an impatience you can't quite put your finger on.

Wait...

"Ha!" You almost do a double take. Seokjin is sat alone tonight. No nearly-crying-twenty-something across from him. Just Seokjin with a single flute of champagne in his hand opposite an utterly empty chair.

Well. This is new.

"I think he's been stood up!" You lower your voice to a whisper when your burst of laughter gains a few strange looks. "There's no girl with him this time."

"What?" Jimin splutters, standing on his tip toes in an attempt to see over your shoulder. "No girl?! Let me see!"

You budge over and Jimin lets out a gasp of surprise when he takes in the scene for himself. "The Kim Seokjin got stood up. I can't believe it!"

"Maybe he's getting a taste of his own medicine." You muse.

A mischievous look crosses Jungkook's features and then he is pulling on his black apron and scurrying towards the door. "Let's find out!"

"What? — Jungkook!"

You watch open mouthed as Jungkook approaches the lonely table, fingers quivering around the order notebook he clutches like a safety blanket, with nerves or excitement you can't quite tell; before he exchanges a few words with Seokjin who barely even glances up, lazily folding a napkin in his lap. Jungkook nods vigorously before he speed walks back to the kitchen like his life depends on it, a smug grin appearing on his lips as he thrusts the order slip towards you.

"Two orders of sirloin steak, medium! Pronto!"

"Two?" You and Jimin splutter in unison.

Jungkook looks amused. Too amused for your liking.

"Yup! And guess what?" Jimin is hanging off his every word, desperate pleas of what? making Jungkook chuckle harder. "He wants the chef to serve it."

You narrow your eyes. "Hoseok? Why?"

Jungkook scoffs as if you're being clueless on purpose. "Not Hoseok, idiot!"

"Then who?"

"You." Jungkook points a finger right at you.

"Me? Wait! Jeon Jungkook, you get back here!" Before you can ask questions he is already bounding into the restaurant like a labrador on crack.

"Have fun!" He yells over his shoulder with a wink. "You'll thank me later, Y/N."

Half an hour later and you're stood with two steaming plates balanced on your arm. Why are you so nervous? All you have to do is go out there and serve the food. It's not like he was asking you to kill someone.

But every time you muster up the courage to go out there you remember your encounter with Seokjin outside the kitchens, and you instantly feel weak at the knees.

You smooth down your apron one last time, filling your lungs with the stuffy kitchen air before Jimin's hands clamp onto your shoulders and steer you towards the door.

"What are you—?" One forceful push later and you're stumbling out into the restaurant. "Jimin!"

"You can do this!" You hear Jimin call, the exasperated look you send over your shoulder in response prompting a not so reassuring thumbs up. The way your eyes downturn into a dark glare makes him collapse into a fit of gasps and giggles as he nods for you to keep going.

I'm going to get him back for this...

The table Seokjin liked to frequent is closest to the window, view casting out over the lake which the resort surrounds like a half moon, terribly modern in all it's white pillared glory in contrast to the natural beauty of the clear blue water. The lake is darkened now with the reflection of the midnight blue sky, the soft glow of lanterns lighting up the path around it and illuminating the picture of weeping willows which ripples across the water's surface, disturbed only by canoeists tying up their boats for the evening.

Seokjin doesn't seem interested in the quiet goings on of the resort. He has probably seen them a hundred times before. His back is facing you but you can see how his eyes are transfixed on the sliding entrance doors in the windows reflection. It was late evening and most people would be returning to their suites for the night by now, but Seokjin's steely gaze remains unwavering, like he's expecting it to zip open any minute. Is he waiting for someone?

Some part of you feels sympathetic. It doesn't look like anyone is coming to join him any time soon. Poor guy is about to get a taste of his own medicine and look like a fool sat opposite an empty chair harbouring a plate of uneaten food.

Ha. It's exactly what he deserves, you think. Karma.

Every step towards him feels heavier than the last until eventually you find yourself stood with knees knocking right behind him, food probably going cold with every second you spend coaxing yourself to man up and face him. You silently pray he won't hear the pound of your heart over the low hum of chatter and scrapes of cutlery against china plates that seem to fall away to silence in this corner of the restaurant where it's just Seokjin and you.

You're debating spinning on your heels and making Jungkook do it instead when Seokjin's unrelenting stare at the door snaps up to meet yours in the window's reflection, the authority in his eyes enough to have you hiding behind your hair in shame at being caught dwindling like an idiot.

"I wasn't expecting you to actually come." His voice is a deep hum that makes you jolt and nearly drop the plates. A heat burns your cheeks when Seokjin swirls the champagne in his glass amusedly, facing you with his forearm on the back of his seat and beckoning for you to set the plates down with a nod of his head. An order.

You narrow your eyes, unable to curb the irritation that laces your sigh as you obey him. You set down the dishes, one in front of him and the other in front of the seat still empty of whomever he is expecting. "I wasn't exactly expecting to be serving you tonight either. I usually just prepare the food."

Seokjin doesn't miss the roll of your eyes, snorting at the shake of your hand that gives away the anxiety beneath your front when crystal beads of champagne splash onto the immaculate table cloth as you try to top up his glass.

"Yeah and here's a reason for that. You're a shit waitress."

The way you slam the bottle down onto the table top is a little too aggressive, the legs shaking violently and drawing the eyes of a few of the surrounding diners who wipe their mouths with a delicate astonishment and flash you dark looks at the disturbance.

"Are we done? If I'm so bad then why did you call me out here?"

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you." His fingers fold the napkin in his lap carefully. He settles back into his chair with a grin laced with mischief while you practically hop from foot to foot with nerves. "Would you sit for a second?"

"I'm an employee." You raise a brow. "I don't think that's appropriate..."

"Please?" He rests his chin in his palms.

You hug your torso and self consciously glance side to side. With a roll of your eyes you sink down into the chair, if a little reluctantly, when you're sure the couple at the table directly opposite are too deep in conversation about the crème brûlée to notice the strange encounter happening beside them.

"Fine! But make it quick or Hoseok might actually shave my head."

Seokjin gets straight to the point. "I need you to do something for me."

There is a glint in his eye as he snatches up the glass intended for the rightful occupant of the leather cushion you perch on, pouring a small amount of champagne into the flute and pushing it towards you with an encouraging nod. You observe the fizzing liquid with caution, turning your nose up at the floral aroma. Was he trying to poison you with Veuve Clicquot?

"Okay, elaborate?"

"I'm going to need you to pretend to be my date." You wait for him to laugh but his lips are pressed together in a line that tell you he is being serious. "You up for it?"

"Excuse me?" An astonished laugh punctuates your widened eyes, voice raising incredulously at his request. "Your what?"

"Hear me out!" Seokjin hisses, holding a finger to his lip to quiet you down when you splutter on the air that feels like it's thickening in your throat. "I just need to get my father off my back. It'll be five minutes tops!"

By this point you are rendered speechless, pinching the inside of your thigh to check if you are trapped in some weirdly vivid nightmare.

You? His date? Oh god...why aren't you waking up?

Your lips curl around a single breathless word. "Why?"

"Hello, I'm Kim Seokjin? Dad owns the resort? Need to get married to inherit it? I thought we went over this the other day—"

Throwing your arms over your chest impatiently, you click your tongue. "I remember idiot! I mean why me?"

"For fucks sake — you want the truth?" He chuckles but it's devoid of any humour. "You're new around here so my father is less likely to recognise you, okay?" He downs the rest of his glass, picks up his fork and pokes the cold steak on his plate restlessly, hardly bothering to look you in the face even when you scoff in disbelief.

You bite your lip, voice quiet. "Is this some sort of game?"

You are no stranger to Seokjin's tricks — you watched them play out with your own eyes, more girls than you could count on one hand leaving the restaurant in tears or worse — and something feels funny in your stomach, an instinct that says he has an ulterior motive you just can't put your finger on.

From the corner of your eye you spot Hoseok poking his head into the dining area, eyes merciless as they scan the room in search of you, the tell tale tap of his foot against the ground a giveaway of his growing impatience which makes you duck out of view in fear.

"If this is just one of your sick jokes then congrats," You deadpan. "I could literally lose my job over this."

"What? No!" He seems genuinely surprised at your accusation, exasperated sigh sounding desperate while his eyes bore into yours with a look that says please. "I'll explain everything. Please?"

He winces when your chair scrapes loudly against the tile as you get to your feet with a disbelieving shake of your head. "Sorry but I have a job to do—"

Suddenly Seokjin lets out a gasp and you hear the automatic glass doors zip open. "Ah shit!"

Seokjin's eyes widen with panic but before you can twist to see who has arrived for yourself, you're being pulled back down into the seat opposite him roughly by the elbow.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Seokjin isn't listening, shrugging his jacket down his arms and wrapping the fabric around your shoulders hastily. "Cover your uniform, okay?"

The smell of his expensive cologne fills your senses and a warm hand squeezes your shoulder pleadingly, the glint in his eye replaced with desperation.

For a moment you falter and his face brightens, believing you to be finally convinced. Until you come back to your senses and slap his hand away. "Get off me!"

"Too late." Seokjin murmurs, but before you can shoot him a questioning glance a pair of polished black shoes stop beside you. Your entire body stiffens, aware of a pair of eyes probing the back of your head.

Oh no.

"Seokjin."

An unfamiliar deep voice rumbles beside you and when you dare to look up you're met with the peering face of an older man who you recognise from the Paradise website. There are traces of Seokjin visible in the curve of his mouth and the sharp edge of his jaw and he was probably considered good looking in his youth.

Ah. So this is Mr Kim?

"You lasted longer than fifteen minutes. This must be a new record, son."

Despite their likeness it's hard to believe they are father and son -- the stern frown keeping a pair of thin framed glasses balancing on Seokjin’s father’s nose along with his crisp tailored suit a far cry from the boy sat cross legged opposite you, wine colored shirt unbuttoned too far to be a mistake.

Seokjin plasters a false grin to his mouth and raises his glass towards Mr Kim, as if to toast. "I told you I would try didn't I?"

Mr Kim says nothing, averting his intimidating gaze to you instead. Your mouth dries when he addresses you directly. "What was your name again?"

Shit! Alarm bells sound in your head, instantly regretting coming out here in the first place and getting mixed up in Seokjin's mess.

You swallow thickly, hardly daring to look him in the eye. "It's — uh," Seokjin is signalling at you with an alarmed look, face falling into his palms with a muffled groan when you fail to catch on.  "Y-Y/N. I'm Y/N."

"Is it now?" Mr Kim scratches his chin thoughtfully, humming to himself as he studies your face. Shit, does he recognise you from the kitchen? Are you about to get fired? Your pulse goes into overdrive when his eyes narrow. "I'm sure I remember it being something like—"

"Her middle name!" Seokjin quickly butts in, cutlery clattering onto his plate in his haste to gain his fathers attention. "She goes by her middle name. We were just talking about it actually. Right, Y/N?"

All eyes fall on you again, Seokjin sending you a pleading look, but you don't trust your voice not to waver so you just nod and hide your rosy cheeks by wrapping your lips around rim of the untouched champagne glass.

"Funny middle name." He shrugs, landing an audible slap to Seokjin's back who winces at the hard contact. Mr Kim's eyes seem kinder as they look between you. "I'm proud of you, son. I'm glad you could finally see things from our perspective."

"Sure, dad." Seokjin shrinks away from his fathers touch with a look of distaste. "Now would you do us a favor and leave us to discuss...marriage things?" You choke on your mouthful of bubbly, eyes watering as you try to hold back a spluttering cough.

Thankfully, Mr Kim is already losing interest, flashing Seokjin a thumbs up before striding over to one of the waiters holding a platter of coconut shrimp appetizers and taking a handful for himself.

Watching him gain a safe distance and disappear among a circle of business men at the bar, you finally feel safe to let out the shaky breath you were holding. Seokjin presses his knuckles to his eyes, the vein in his neck protruding with tension.

"What the fuck was that?" He seems to have forgotten your presence, lost in his own thoughts until you rip his jacket from where it sits around your shoulders and throw it into his lap with contempt. Your laugh of disbelief sounds foreign to your own ears, unable to comprehend what actually just happened.

"You're crazy!" You let out breathlessly. "I'm out of here."

Before you can storm off like you want to, Seokjin's hand closes around your wrist and pins you in place.

"Listen, I know you think this is ridiculous but I'm literally about to get on my knees and beg you here. Just do me one more favour." You shoot him a glare and for a second you think he might actually drop to the ground and grovel if you asked him to. "Just one!"

No matter how hard you try to pull away Seokjin is persistent. "Why should I?"

"Because you have a conscience?" He pleads. "The human desire to help others in need?"

"This is crazy—"

"I'll repay you!"

You pause. "How?"

"Undecided." His head tilts in thought. "You need money?"

Disgust courses through your veins. This guy thinks he can buy you? You have encountered some entitled rich guys at Paradise but this has to be the icing on the cake, an unbelievable disconnect from acceptable social discourse — though are you surprised? He doesn't exactly have a reputation for being a good conversation holder for fucks sake, just ask his other dates.

You scoff. "I don't accept bribes. I think we're done here. Good luck with your plan or...whatever."

"Y/N wait—" Something in his voice makes you stop dead this time. An authority. No longer pleading but commanding. "I'll fire you myself right here if you don't help me out just once."

Your heart twists. Part of you knows that whatever Seokjin has in mind will be batshit crazy, if his antics tonight were anything to judge by. It would pain you to do something so demeaning but...you need this job. The decision was practically made for you.

You swivel to face him. He is standing over you now, hands on hips as if he means business. "One favor! That's it!"

He punches the air triumphantly. "You want it in writing or something?" He teases, the glint in his eye back now and taunting as you practically vibrate with a combination of embarrassment and rage.

"Don't push it." You warn. 

"Okay, jeez." He throws his hands up in defense. You are acutely aware of the hysterical giggles coming from the kitchen belonging to none other than Jungkook and Jimin and the way your face burns scarlet as you storm away from Seokjin with fists clenched. "I'll let you know when I need you, sweetheart."

09:04, from unknown: — 10 o clock. meet me outside the archery court. — go to locker 16, key will be in the lock. you'll find everything you need inside

The light of your phone stings your half-open eyes, slumber still clinging to your body as you rub away any remnants of sleep with your knuckles and re-read the strange text over and over again.

Archery? An accidental text to the wrong number, surely?

You glance at the clock next to your bed - the text was sent over twenty minutes ago by now. Whoever the recipient was supposed to be wouldn't have long to get ready.

09:26, you: — huh? who is this?

Before you can even set your phone down and swing your legs out of bed your phone pings, the sound enough to make you wince in your sleepy state.

09:26, unknown: — it's seokjin??? — you know, the guy you're supposed to be marrying?

Excuse you?

All remnants of sleep and/or inner peace are ripped away as soon as you see his name pop up on your homescreen.

"Seokjin?" You splutter out loud. A name you never thought you would have to see again, let alone at this time in the morning.

You scramble into a sitting position, back pressed to the headboard as you grip your bed hair in pure disbelief. The three little dots bounce menacingly at the bottom of the screen as you type and re-type a response. Eventually you settle on something simple and to the point:

09:28, you: — how the fuck did you get this number???

Ping ping. You resist a face palm as you gather the confidence to input your password and read whatever bullshit Seokjin responded with.

09:29, unknown: — i think you're forgetting i own this place — not to brag but ive got connections — anyway, you have half an hour to get your ass over here before my sister arrives.

As you thought - utter bullshit. His sister? It's almost as if Seokjin thinks you are actually dating - or even worse, actually getting hitched.

Wait...he doesn't...does he? You suppress a groan. Why else would he be dragging you out of your apartment to go and shoot arrows at targets with his sister instead of polishing his golf club collection or lounging with self made millionaires or whatever rich things rich guys do.

You are just here to get some culinary experience. To blend into the background like the rest of the employees at Paradise, to focus on making the lives of CEO's and retired business men as easy and as luxurious as possible. Why on earth is he even taking notice of you?

09:30, you: — your sister??

09:30, unknown: — yeah? who'd you think you were arching with? — i don't do sports. — count yourself lucky my mom had to take a rain check

Fuck. His mom?

"Get a grip!" You chastise yourself. You had barely spoken two words to each other before the other night, his existence unbeknownst to yours let alone yours to his; the exchange itself a glitch in the simulation and definitely not something which you wanted to make a habit - so why are you instilled with nerves at the thought of meeting this guy's family?

You don't have time to respond with a harsh reminder of your respective positions at Paradise and why this is absolutely a Bad Idea before Seokjin sends a series of reassuring follow up texts, almost as though he read your mind and all it's reluctant thoughts.

09:32, unknown: — don't worry so much this is just to make people think we're really seeing each ohter — other* — hurry, can't have people thinking my future wife isn't punctual — doesn't look good for the reputation 😎

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck!

This is actually happening. How did you manage to get roped into some rich dudes family drama and his consequent plan of deception? And why on earth you fly out of bed, desperately trying to pat down your fly away bed hair while simultaneously shrugging on a pair of jeans is utterly beyond you.

But deep down you know why. It's because you have a sympathy for Seokjin. A goddamn sympathy for the man who seemingly had everything and who every other resident at Paradise wished they could be.

You are increasingly aware of the way your heart hammers against your rib cage, pulse quickening with every tick of the clock that brings you closer to 10 o clock. Not because you're about to see Seokjin again, surely?

Pfft. Of course not! This is just a favour - a formality as an acquaintance if you could even call yourself that.

The clock ticks over to 09:40. No, you promise yourself as you scoop up your bag and your keys. It's doesn’t mean anything, it’s just because you hate being late.

You end up being late anyway, despite rushing to Paradise from your nearby apartment without so much as considering breakfast and somehow managing to gather the courage to open the door to the women's locker room.

Embarrassment pools in your stomach when you feel the quizzical eyes of Paradise regulars burning into your back over the edges of their martini glasses. It takes all your strength to pass by them with your eyes trained to your shoes, hoping to seem unbothered by their towel turbans and gossiping lips.

You’re unsure why you feel so out of place. It's not as if you are trespassing; they gave you a benefits card when you accepted the job, giving you access to some of the resort's facilities. Some would say it was generous, but it's not as if you ever had a chance to use them in between long kitchen shifts.

Luckily, you doubt there's a risk of them recognising you from the kitchen. The resort is mostly populated by younger club members and besides it's not as if they ever cared to study your face for long enough to commit it to memory.

Still, your casual sweater and jeans combo makes you stand out like a sore thumb in a room full of designer polo shirts and athletic wear and you can't suppress the sigh of relief that escapes you when you make it past a hoard of already merry day drinkers on their way to a hot yoga class in search of locker 16 as instructed by Seokjin.

Sure enough, a key sits snugly in the lock. When you open the metal door you find a tennis skirt with a matching polo shirt, both folded neatly beneath a pair of strikingly white sneakers.

You scoop the pile into your arms, surprised when a card flutters to the ground. You recognise the Paradise logo in the corner, an unfamiliar handwritten scrawl smudged across the front in black pen.

Put these on and meet me round the back of the range. I'll be waiting. - SJ

You roll your eyes. Would it kill him to say please? Not that he is used to asking nicely. Manners are few and far between when things are handed to you on a silver platter (or by an underpaid kid with a summer job). At least that's what you gathered from your observations since you got here.

You slip into the white ensemble, silently thanking the you from yesterday for shaving your legs when you notice just how uncomfortably short the skirt is. The fabric smells like one of those expensive perfumes you sprayed at the store once and you briefly wonder who these clothes belong to.

Fastening your hair into a high pony tail like you see the other girls here do, you take a deep breath and finally sidle up to the full body mirror.

Almost everyone has filtered out of the locker room by now, some to spa appointments, others to sports matches and you find yourself alone, nearly choking on the humid air when you take in your appearance for the first time.

You look like you belong here.

Collar popped around your neck, skirt falling in perfect pleats around your waist, hair falling against your cheekbones. Not a speck of dirt on the branded shoes cushioning your soles.

For a moment you feel a sense of pride fill your chest, head resting high on your shoulders as you bask in the confidence that washes over you until you feel giddy with belonging.

Until you remember what you really are. An imposter.

Despite your Paradise inspired appearance you are nothing but a fake. A smudge on one of the picture perfect Paradise postcard's in the gift shop.

Your shoulders deflate, the sudden urge to tug your sweater back on and run as fast as you can becoming overwhelming.

Your let yourself slump onto one of the plush couches, head falling into your hands. What are you doing here? Letting some guy dress you up like a doll and show you off to save his own ass?

Besides, his family would see through you as soon as you walked out there. After all a polished stone, although pretty, can never be a diamond. And these people know diamonds like the back of their hands.

Is it because he has the authority to fire you from the kitchen job you worked so hard to get? Or is it because somewhere deep inside you are curious to see what could be in this for you?

A vibration on the couch beside you draws you from your thoughts.

10:09, unknown: — where r u????? — you know where the range is right???

God, why didn't you just say no in the first place?

"Just get on with it," you tell yourself sternly. Meet his sister, smile politely and leave without owing Kim Seokjin a single thing.

You will save his ass, buy him the time he needs to convince his parents to get off his back. And then you can go back to your culinary uniform and back to serving up lobster to rich people and you can forget this ever happened and that he so much as exists.

With a shaky breath you get to your feet, throwing your familiar clothes into the locker along with your comfort zone and what feels like your entire identity.

If this is going to work you couldn't think like Y/N, you realise. You have to think like a Paradise country club member. And luckily for you, your careful observation of other residents from the kitchen gives you quite a lot of material to work with.

Before you can second guess yourself you're taking a deep breath and striding out of the locker room door and into the sunny resort grounds.

Oh god. I'm really doing this. You suddenly feel exposed as you pass the golf court, just managing to dodge a rattling cart before it flattened you.

A pair of girls stroll past with arms interlinked, tennis rackets swinging at their sides leisurely as they make their way to the course.

Oh god. They're gonna see through you. Oh god. Just smile!

You let the corners of your mouth curve up into the closest thing to a smile you can muster, pleased when you earn a friendly nod in greeting before they dive back into their conversation again.

Nobody is noticing. You hold your head high, telling your shoulders to relax and look natural. You can do this.

You reach the range but instead of following the group of middle aged men ahead of you up to the front entrance, you slip round the back. Your eyes land on him instantly; none other than Kim Seokjin, leaning impatiently against the wall, just like he said he would be.

His appearance is enough to have you faltering in your tracks. Unlike the last time you saw him when he donned a much less flattering eye sore of a Hawaiian shirt, he's put together from head to toe - white button up tucked into a pair of tailored trousers, brown loafers showing off his ankles, the whole outfit finished off by a knit sweater tied around his shoulders.

"Wow." You can't help it. You're starting to see why he had a reputation for being particularly easy on the eye.

You swallow thickly, shaking the stunned feeling from your head and ignoring the way your heart beats a little faster the closer you draw to him.

"Finally!" Seokjin hums as he lets out a frustrated huff, eyes glued to the Rolex on his wrist. "Where have you been-"

His breath hitches when he finally looks up and takes you in for the first time. You were surely imagining the way his eyes widen and look you up and down. Right?

"Well well," Seokjin regains his self control quickly, licking his lips. "Someone scrubs up well."

Smartass. "To my credit you've only ever seen me in my work clothes."

"Touché." He purses his lips. "Nobody could make those hats look good. Except me, obviously."

There is that glint in his eye again. As if he is messing with you to get you riled up again. If he wasn't the Kim Seokjin you'd mistake him as flirtatious.

You hug your torso, confidence dwindling with every second you stand beneath Seokjin's probing gaze, anxious to get out onto the range before it dissipates completely. "So? Are we just gonna stand here?"

"You turn up late and then have the audacity to order me around?" His eyebrows furrow and for a second you think he's going to warn you. Remind you who has the power here.

But then his face breaks out into an amused smirk and you let out the breath you didn't know you were holding. "Remember when I said I think you and I are going to get along just fine?"

Seokjin slings his hands into his pockets, striding towards the back door of the facility. He shakes the handle before using his key card to let you both into the archery equipment lodge.

You trail behind him. "Don't get too comfortable," You warn. "This is a one time thing."

Seokjin muses over a selection of crossbows in display cases before fishing in his pocket for a key, unlocking the glass and taking down two flashy ones. He grabs a quiver loaded with arrows from a stand and thrusts both into your arms without warning.

"Sure." He is slinging a quiver over his own shoulder now. He holds open the door to the archery range, gesturing for you to go first. So now he has manners? "If you say so."

The archery range is an expanse of perfectly pruned green grass, surrounded by the breathtaking scenery of fragrant rose bushes and trailing ivy that the resort boasts. And, as you're learning, an excuse for refreshments, as you find yourself now in a fancy veranda bar with high arching windows that overlook the distant targets, serving chilled lemonade and Prosecco and appetisers on fancy napkins.

"Pretty cool, right?" Seokjin asks, resting his elbows on the windowsill and smirking at your speechlessness and open mouthed expression. "But quit looking so surprised, yeah? You gotta make my sister think this is normal for you."

You don't have time to ask what he means before you are being spun around and engulfed in a hug. You freeze, sucking in a breath of surprise, the sickly smell of fancy shampoo engulfing your senses as your face is pushed into a head of perfect ringlets.

"You must be Y/N." The person, a woman, purrs into your ear. "It's good to finally meet you." The way she draws out the word makes you nervous.

This is Seokjin's sister?

Something about it doesn't feel how a hug is supposed to. Instead it feels like a silent interrogation. Are you good enough to be one of us? Nothing about it is warm. Instead it's sticky, your hands patting her back awkwardly, counting the seconds in your head until it is acceptable to pull away from her stiff hold.

When she lets go you are met with the tight lipped smile of a pretty twenty something, eyes scanning your face from beneath a sun visor. A customised hot pink quiver drapes across her shoulder and you notice the way she eyes your borrowed equipment distastefully.

"That would be me." You force a smile that ends up being a little too wide, glancing nervously at Seokjin who simply nods  in encouragement. "It's good to...finally meet you too?"

She holds you at arms length, giving you a once over before speaking tightly. "Well aren't you a doll?"

You must look as terrified as you feel because her eyebrows raise triumphantly. Seokjin senses the tension. He looks between the two of you almost worriedly, searching your face for any sign of discomfort. For a second you think his concern is kind of sweet...No! Not allowed.

"No hug for me?" Seokjin swoops in and his sister's features harden at his sarcastic tone, a punch landing on his shoulder which he pretends to rub better, emitting a small ow!

"You're late."

"Sorry Hyejin, couldn't find my best shoes." Seokjin throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you from her grasp a little protectively and flashing an award winning smile that makes your heart flip...No! Definitely not allowed.

"Those are your best shoes?" She grimaces, shaking her head with an air of disappointment. "You left me waiting here for half an hour for those?" Her eyes narrow at you accusingly, as if she knows the truth and wants you to offer an apology.

Seokjin is quick to save you again. "Yup. All my fault. Shall we shoot?"

"Gladly." She smooths down a stray curl, studying her reflection in the glass windows. "I've been itching to see Y/N's aim since I got here. I hear you are a pro, no?"

You choke. A pro?

Luckily she's already stalking across the deck in her click-clacking wedges and out onto the damp green grass, missing the panicked glance shared between yourself and Seokjin.

"Uh-"

"Um-"

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. Think of something, he mouths.

She stops dead, shooting a puzzled glance over her shoulder. "Well are you?"

"Not exactly-" You start.

"I think you're thinking of one of the other...candidates, Hyejin." Seokjin says carefully. He places his palm at the small of your back. The gesture was probably just for show but it comforts you none the less.

"I'm sure she's just being modest." She says to Seokjin, but she's looking right at you. Her forefinger taps against her palm and you can almost see the puzzle pieces falling together in her head before her expression smooths out and you let out a sigh of relief. "So. Shall we?"

Seokjin nods sheepishly. Hyejin slings an arrow into her bow with the ease of an expert, Seokjin quickly following suit. And it is in that moment, as you watch them shoot equally as precise shots to the centre of their respective targets, that it dawns on you. You have never shot a bow and arrow in your life.

"Let's see just how good you are." Hyejin steps back, offering you the main stage. You squint at the targets in the far distance, the rings blurring into one. How on earth did they make hitting those things look so easy?

"Sure thing." You wince at the strain in your voice as you fumble to pull an arrow from your quiver, fingers shaking as you try to sling it into the bow.

You can do this..

You lift the bow, close your eyes and hope for the best when you let go of the arrow, watching as it flies a short distance before sticking upright in the dirt just short of the target.

Cheeks scarlet, you glance at Hyejin who looks positively horrified. "When you said not exactly good I wasn't expecting you to be so...inexperienced. No personal trainer?" She muses, eyeing you quizzically, to which you shoot her an embarrassed smile in confirmation. "Anybody would think it was your first time!" You sheepishly giggle along to the hearty chuckle she enjoys at the mere thought, spluttering when her face suddenly darkens "It's not right?"

You freeze. "Uhhh..."

"It's just nerves," Seokjin insists, palms clamping your shoulders and thrusting you forward again. "She's probably just shitting it because you're watching."

"Language!" Hyejin scolds, letting the roll of Seokjin's eyes slip when she sees you fiddling with another arrow.

This time you prepare the bow with ease, a bout of confidence washing over you as you make eye contact with Seokjin over the top of the bow you raise to your shoulder. His eyes soften slightly and he offers an encouraging nod as you squint at the target and shoot the arrow straight into the centre ring.

You're momentarily shocked at your own abilities before Seokjin is letting out a genuinely impressed hoot, his hand coming between you to offer a sly high five unbeknownst to Hyejin. A silent congratulations for not completely fucking up.

"Pretty good." Hyejin nods, looking genuinely impressed, and you give yourself a silent pat on the back.

Holy shit. This is really working! She believes you belong here!

"Although I'm not sure where father got the idea of professional from with that technique," She lowered her voice, clearly only intending for Seokjin to hear the last part despite you standing beside her. "I must admit her figure seems better suited to tennis anyway..."

Or not. Maybe you still have some work to do...

Hyejin seems in a hurry to get to the next target, and Seokjin hangs back to whisper in your ear before you follow.

"Congrats," He hums with a smirk. "You fit right in. Welcome to Paradise, Y/N."

The next forty five minutes pass quicker than you expect.

"— and I said, 'How could you seat the Jeon's next to the Jung's when you know they're feuding about the business contract'?" Hyejin exclaims. "Scandalous."

"Scandalous." You reply with a bored attempt at enthusiasm, raising your eyebrows at Seokjin over the rim of your glass as you sip cloudy lemonade through a straw. To his credit he looks equally as exhausted with Hyejin's spiel, shaking his knee impatiently as he itches for an opportunity to pounce.

As Hyejin continues to make mildly interrogative small talk and you find it increasingly easier to think on the spot when she asks about your family's (imaginary) dynasty and the university degree in economics you (supposedly) possess, you start to feel more comfortable. But Seokjin still refuses to loosen the arm resting around your shoulders keeping you planted by his side all afternoon, as if he is nervous his sister might swoop down like a bird and take you away at any moment, like a toddler with a toy.

That's why when she suggests a trip to the little girls room to powder your noses, Seokjin throws you a reluctant look. He protests at first when you readily agree (hoping to splash some cold water on your face to cool the constant burn that seems to have settled into your every pore) and he still looks concerned, knee bouncing nervously, when you peel yourself away from his body and disappear into the bar a few steps behind Hyejin who doesn't seem interested in side by side small talk.

In fact, you use the bathroom in silence and she doesn't speak another word until you catch her gaze in the mirror as she emerges from a cubicle behind you.

"You might have my little brother fooled but I see right through you, you know." She sets down her cosmetics bag on the sink, retrieving an expensive tube of lipstick and swiping the pinkish colour over her lips nonchalantly.

The tap stops running over your soaped up hands as you try to curb the nausea her words induce. Does she know who you are? Who you really are?

Despite the shake to your voice you try to play it cool. "W-what do you mean?"

Hyejin's laugh is small and tight, nothing about it humorous at all. Her eyes never leave her reflection, fluffing up her curls with an air of superiority. "I see through parasites like you straight away."

Your mouth falls agape with astonishment. "Parasites?"

"You should know that I have people all over this place who will find out exactly why you came here." For the first time she turns to look you dead in the eye, a bitter smile lacing her lips smugly. She is eye level but it feels like she is towering above you. "What is it you want? Money?"

"No I—"

"Just wait." Hyejin slings her bag over her shoulder triumphantly, voice getting smaller as her heels click across the tiles to the door. She pauses, poking her head back into the room as if burdened with an after thought. "You could do with some more mascara, by the way, darling. Would make you look much prettier."

And then she's gone, leaving you to watch her hips swaying into the distance with hands dripping dry onto the ground.

By the time you calm your nerves enough to emerge from the bathroom looking semi-confident, Hyejin is already ordering another drink and Seokjin is straining his neck to search for you anxiously.

Even from a few meters away you can see the way he sighs with relief when he spots you approaching. It didn't last for long though as he must notice the slightly reddened rings around yours eyes that weren't there before and before you can give him a watery smile in greeting, he is on his feet.

"What happened?"

You bite your lip. "Seokjin, I think I need to go."

"I knew this would happen. Did she try and get in your head?" You nod and his face darkens. "I was an idiot bringing you here."

"It's fine, I shouldn't have agreed, you stay and I'll just go—"

"Right!" Seokjin makes a show of slapping his palms to his knees, practically jumping to his feet and dragging you up with him by your elbow, only a hare away from spilling the drink in your hands. "Sorry to cut this short but I think it's time for Y/N and I to be going."

Hyejin looks positively furious at the suggestion of saying goodbye, gesturing towards the bucket of ice in the centre of the table you had inhabited after your arms began to hurt from holding the archery bow. "But we haven't even opened the Champagne yet, Jin-"

"Oh I don't day drink." You wave her off, biting your lip with instant regret when you see how her face hardens.

"Sorry Hyejin but there really just isn't enough time," Seokjin insists, reaching for your bag to save you the trouble, slinging it across your shoulder and pushing you by the shoulders towards the exit. It's not like you have a choice in the matter but you have to admit you are relieved the whole fiasco is finished. "Send my best wishes to Wonho and Minhye!"

"Minhyuk." Hyejin splutters as she staggers to her feet, chair scraping obscenely. "Your nephew's name is Minhyuk!"

"Good to know!" Seokjin calls over his shoulder, already speed walking into the lobby before you can make out her response.

When Seokjin decides there is enough distance between you and the range he drops his arm from where it drapes around your shoulders. You didn't realise it was there until it was already gone, a cold emptiness settling over you. Why had it felt so natural?

He lets out a deep sigh of relief. "Thank god that's over with. I thought she would never stop talking."

You snort in agreement. "I've never told so many lies in my life."

"I find that hard to believe." Seokjin smirks when you slap his arm playfully. "It came too easily to you."

"It's your fault! Your deceptive ways are rubbing off on me!"

"Deceptive ways?" Seokjin splutters, a genuine laugh spilling from his lips. Heartier and much different to the strained chuckles he's been giving Hyejin all day. You decide by the way your heart lurches that you like it much better. "I'll have you know I never lie."

"You're joking right?" Surely he is aware that it was him that roped you into this identity fraud master plan in the first place? The smirk on his face says yes. It's your turn to laugh, mimicking his earlier tone. "I find that hard to believe."

"Then ask me a question and I'll tell you the honest truth and nothing but the truth."

"Uhh okay?" You pause, mulling over all the questions you really want to ask. Why did you choose me? Does this make us friends? Are you gonna look through me again at the restaurant when this whole thing is over?  Before you sheepishly settle on something more appropriate.

"How much is the resort worth? It must be a lot if you would go to all this...trouble."

"Five hundred."

"Five hundred thousand?"

"You're coy. Of course not." He chuckles. "Million."

Oh. Well now everything makes sense.

"Come on, ask me another." Seokjin bumps his shoulder against yours playfully, hair falling in his eyes that you’re desperate to push away. Your cheeks burn. "What's on your mind, kitchen girl?"

Don't say it...don't say it...

"D-did your sister hate me?"

Too late. The question slips out before you can stop it and you slap a hand over your mouth in shock.

He narrows his eyes. "Why do you want to know?"

Why do you want to know? It's not like any of this really mattered - it wasn't real after all. So why does your stomach twist when you remember the spiteful way Hyejin spoke to you?

You flash a sheepish smile. "J-just interested."

Your ego was just bruised that's all. It was natural to feel bad when someone didn't like you, right?

"Then yes."

Oh.

Your chest clenches for no reason. Maybe he really never lies after all, huh?

Seokjin must notice the way you pout. "It's not personal! That's just how she is. Honestly, out of all the candidates so far you're the one she hated the least..."

You snort. "Good to know?"

You come to a stop outside the locker room doors. You don't know what to say - what is left? Goodbye? Thank you?

You're probably never going to speak to him again, true; but goodbye feels too formal. Too real. Instead you stay quiet, the sound of cicadas and balls hitting racquets filling the silence as Seokjin’s chocolate brown eyes make you weak at the knees when they darken, his body drawing ever closer to yours.

"Aren't you gonna ask how I plan on repaying you?"

Seokjin's fingers wrap around your elbow before you can slip away and you gasp at how his skin burns yours. You swallow thickly. The light bounces off his face dazzlingly and you have to admit he looks good right now, with his shirt unbuttoned lazily and his bitten lips inches from yours.

"I-I forgot about that." You admit. Sure you had been uptight about this whole idea initially but you couldn't deny the fact that today had been kinda fun. Did you really need a reward? Maybe you'd got a little lost in pretending to be someone else. So what?

"Well," Seokjin draws closer until your back presses against the wall, his breath hot next to your ear. "I have something in mind."

Your pulse quickens when you feel his hand rest upon your hip, the rise and fall of his chest so close that you get tingles down your spine.

You swallow the lump in your throat. "W-what is it?"

His chuckle is warm against your sensitive neck and you shudder when his lips ghost over your skin, so so close. "Can I show you?"

"Sure." You breathe.

And then he takes you by the chin, lining up your mouths and crashing them together in a hot tangle of tongue and teeth, his chapped lips moving against yours with an urgency. Your arms snake around his neck, tangling in the hair at his nape and pulling him into you with a thump.

Before your eyes can flutter shut and your heart can get lost in the feeling of his teeth pulling at your bottom lip and the taste of sour lemonade that still lingers on his tongue, Seokjin pulls back with a smirk, eyes dropping to your parted lips and then back to your blown out eyes with a satisfaction.

He runs a knuckle down your cheek. You feel your legs weaken.  "I want you."

The huskiness in his voice makes your head spin, chest burning with the desire to connect your lips again. But you resist.

"Why?" You squeeze your eyes shut, head lolling back against the wall to avoid his gaze, embarrassed at how shaky your voice sounds after one kiss. God, you're weak. "Why me?"

"Like I said," Seokjin's fingers trace down your sides, eyes darkening when he notices the way the light touch makes you shiver under him. "I want you. Have since I first saw you."

He wants you? What about all those other girls, the ones he sent running? The ones who were much more suited to him than you would ever be?

"So what?" You scoff, biting your lip to stop a needy gasp when he presses a bold kiss to your jaw. "Want to add me to the list of girls who — mmf — w-who you seduced?"

He pauses, lips pressed against your burning skin for a little longer while he registers your words. "Maybe." He resumes his earlier actions, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. "Is that so bad?"

"I can't do this." You bite your lip. This wasn't supposed to happen. You weren't intending on letting Seokjin get to you, didn't mean to become a mark in his black book or a notch in his bed post.

"Why not?" He presses his forehead to yours. Your breath hitches and you will the warm tingle in your stomach to go away. "I saw you checking me out on the range."

The way he grins tells you that you hadn't been so subtle after all.

"And besides," Seokjin grips your ass through your skirt, making you gasp to his satisfaction. "This way, I get to pay you back and have some fun of my own."

"H-how?" You can feel yourself slipping. Into his touch, into his words.

"By making you cum." That had your panties damp and he knew it, the heat between your legs distracting you from the way he groans against your lips when your hips buck into him involuntarily.

It's like he knows what you need, slotting his leg between your own and putting pressure on the growing ache in your core. "I know you want this too."

He's right, the way the cotton of your panties has begun to cling to your folds a tell tale sign of your arousal. Seokjin knew exactly how to make you putty in his hands. Every teasing touch of his lips to your neck, every feather light trace of his fingers has him chuckling darkly when you melt into his body, unable to resist the way he makes your core ache needily for his touch.

"Come on, I can make you feel good." Your breath hitches when fingers toy with the hem of your skirt. "If I just lift this up..."

Oh god. If you don't stop now it'll be too late...

His hand slips beneath your skirt, pads of his fingers hooking your sodden panties to the side, the flash of cold air against your needy folds making you whine into the crook of his neck. "P-please."

You feel him smirk against your hair, speaking with a tone so sickly sweet you would've rolled your eyes if your clit wasn't already pulsating for his touch. "Please what?"

"Make me cum."

"I knew you would come round." He pulls back to face you, drinking in the expression on your face which you presume is utterly fucked out. You have to admit the way his own irises have darkened with what you recognise as lust makes your stomach leap in anticipation. "So desperate for me already hm?"

You whine, somewhat in confirmation, somewhat in frustration at his refusal to touch you even when you buck against his hand. "Please."

"I wouldn't have put you down as the begging type." His hand suddenly cups your heat, pads of his fingers circling your entrance teasingly. He lets out a choked groan when he feels your arousal. "This wet for me? Already?"

"What do you expect?" You stammer, squeezing his shoulders and holding back on the urge to buck against his palm again. "You've got your hand up my skirt."

"Mmm, I could just make you come undone right here." His eyes darken, tongue snaking out to wet his chapped lips hungrily. "Could easily fuck you out nice and slow with my fingers if I wanted to, hmm?" Seokjin has begun to circle your entrance teasingly, making you squirm every time he nearly slips inside.

"Fuck." Your eyes are squeezed shut, breathing already laboured despite him barely even touching you, just the thought of him filling you up getting you dangerously worked up. "I want you to."

"What was that?" Seokjin's lips curve up mischievously, one of his fingers nearly filling you up before he removes his hand and you groan with frustration. "Gotta use your words sweetheart."

Your heart thumps at the use of the pet name but you choose to ignore it, instead reaching between your bodies to clasp his wrist before it disappears completely. "Fuck me," you pant, eyes roaming his with desperation. His staunch gaze never falters. "Please, fuck me now."

Seokjin connects your swollen lips again, but not before mumbling against them gruffly. "Remember you asked for it."

Then, his free hand to spreads your legs, knee stopping them from closing as his other hand closes in on your aching core. The feeling of his digits running down your soaked slit has you panting and you feel your legs buckle when he pressed two of his lithe fingers into your heat without warning. You are dripping by now, hole accommodating the stretch and allowing his fingers to slip inside easily.

Your clit pulsates with need and you want to feel Seokjin everywhere, have him take you in any way he wants, momentarily lost to the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of your heat; until you remember that you have Seokjin's hand down your pants in broad daylight and anyone could walk by and see just how weak he makes you.

"Wait!" He halts his ministrations, raising a brow. "W-we can't, not here."

You mewl when his thumb ghosts across your swollen clit, touch light but enough to have you gasping into the crook of his neck.

"Let's take this inside, then." Before you can ask what he means his fingers disappear, leaving your hole clenching agonisingly around nothing again. He presses the arousal coated digits to your lips and you enjoy the way his jaw tightens as you eagerly take them into your hot mouth, humming when you taste yourself on your own tongue. "Fuck you'll drive me crazy if you keep this up."

You can tell you are getting to him, even if he is trying to hide it. The way his eyes roll back when you suck his fingers clean, how he bites his cheek to stop a lustful groan when his eyes dip between your bodies to your almost naked heat tells you all you needed to know.

He can't take it any longer.

Seokjin pulls his hand away with a wet pop, your throbbing heat protesting when he let your legs fall shut, linking his clammy hand with your own. "Come with me."

It takes a second to remember how to walk, letting him pull you behind him in your dizzy haze. His hand is warm in yours and your entire body aches to feel them on you again. It's already too late to hide your swollen lips and slightly mussed up hair before Seokjin drags you right into the men's locker room .

"Wait, we can't do it in here—"

"Everyone out!" Seokjin's voice bellows through the locker room, all its inhabitants pausing their ministrations to peer at you curiously.

You try to let go of Seokjin's hand to button up your shirt but he won't let you, squeezing your hand reassuringly as you hide behind him self consciously, knees knocking. "We need to use the locker room."

A groan erupts through the room, a chorus of again? permeating the sound of lockers slamming shut with frustration before one by one all the dudes in the locker room began to shuffle past you to the exit.

"Seokjin!" You hiss, standing on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear angrily. "Now everyone knows!"

Seokjin's thumb rubs across your knuckles soothingly. "Who cares?"

You feel your cheeks flush hotly when a man you recognise from the restaurant, now wearing nothing but a towel, narrows his eyes in a knowing look. You willed the ground to swallow you up.

The sound of footsteps ceases, the door swings closed and finally you're alone.

"Better?" Seokjin turns to you expectantly.

"I can't believe you just did that!" You cover your face with your palms. "God how am I going to look any of them in the eyes again."

"They don't care." He soothes, your unamused expression not faltering still.

"Are you even allowed to do that? W-What if they tell someone—"

"They won't," Seokjin smirks. "They value their memberships here too much."

You bite your lip. "Maybe we shouldn't do this."

Seokjin rushes forward to cup your face in his palms reassuringly. The act feels a little too sincere and you nearly melt at the intimacy, resisting copying his motion by pinching your palm instead. "It's okay, seriously! They're just jealous that I get lucky more around here than any of the old bastards have in their entire lives."

"I don't believe you." Your words are muffled by his chest, his chuckle vibrating against your cheek.

"They're jealous because they'll never get this lucky."

"Huh?" Seokjin's hands slide down the small of your back to cup your ass, lifting your entire weight so that your legs wrap around his waist. You let out a giggle of surprise when his face comes into view, smirking up at you.

"Lucky enough to get someone as pretty as you underneath them."

There they are again, the butterflies in your stomach, the skip of a beat in your heart, a warmth spreading through your chest that feels too good to question right now. "Technically I'm above you." You mumble. "Besides they were all, like, fifty years old or something."

"Just shut up would you?" Seokjin stumbles forward, throwing you roughly onto one of the couches. The fabric feels like velvet when your nails clutch at it desperately, trying to hold on to whatever control you have left when Seokjin drops to his knees between your legs to hover over you. "And kiss me for fucks sake."

You oblige, pulling him by the collar to connect your lips in a kiss even more heated than before if that was even possible. His tongue runs along your bottom lip, begging for entrance and you sigh contentedly into the kiss when he pulls your face even closer with his palms.

"F-fuck." He pulls back with a pop, hands roaming along the tops of your thighs too teasingly for you to handle. By now you're so worked up that you just needed him to take you roughly, the thought of his cock pounding in and out of you making you moan when you feel his bulge brush your leg. God you want him more than you knew it was possible, the way your clit pulses at the thought of how good it would feel to come around him or better yet feel him come inside you overwhelming.

"Seokjin, p-please fuck me." You practically whine, letting your head fall against the couch cushion when his thumbs fiddle with the lace of your panties. "Wanna feel you inside me."

The sound that comes from his throat seems strangled. "Fuck, what did I say about driving me crazy?"

"Need you so bad," You rotate your hips to emphasise your desperation, the action providing you with no relief when his steel like grip prevents you from putting any pressure on your dripping folds. "Wanna cum for you."

You blink up at him through your lashes and you swear you see his adam's apple bob as he swallows a moan. He liked it when you provoked him, you could tell. His resolve is crumbling with every word out of your mouth.

"Please, I'm so wet." Fuck, you are. You can feel it dripping down your ass, probably making a mess of the couch below you. You hope it can be dry cleaned. "Just fuck me now—mmf!"

Seokjin shuts you up with a hard press of his lips to yours, the action conveying he's just as desperate as you, the way his hands trembled telling you he isn't as unaffected as he wants to appear.

His breathing is nearly as ragged as yours now. "You like riling me up don't you?"

He runs a shaky hand through his hair exasperatedly and you look up at him hopeful, willing him to touch you, kiss you, anything.

"I'm not going to fuck you."

Oh.

You stiffen beneath him, his words shocking you still.

He doesn't want you. Simple as that.

This was just another one of his games and you fell straight into it. You close your eyes and braced for him to start laughing. To point his finger and tell you how lame you are for ever thinking that someone like him could want someone like you.

Except nothing comes. Just the sound of your shaky breaths and a shower running nearby.

"Why?" Your voice is small now and you draw your knees to your chest, trying to hide as much from him as possible. "You don't want to?"

He looks dismayed at your suggestion, palms shooting out to push you back down and pull you back into his hold again.

"It's not that, Y/N." You let out a relieved breath, not fighting Seokjin when his forehead falls against your chest in defeat, heavy breaths ghosting across the tops of your breasts. You're sure he can feel the way your heart beats uncontrollably in your chest.

"Then why?" You bite your lip. You sound too needy, to whiny. Why do you even care if he wants you or not? This is a one off anyway.

"God, I want nothing more than to strip you and see you bounce on my cock right here"

Oh.

Seokjin's lips attach to your neck, sucking harshly like a man deprived, as though he can't hold back any longer. His hands roam everywhere they can reach, rubbing your breasts over your shirt before his fingers work on the buttons eagerly.

"S-Seokjin..."

"Would give anything to see you come undone on my cock. Bet you'd moan so pretty when I pound you, yeah?"

Truth be told you'd let him right now if he said the word, the thought of him stretching you out making you see stars before he has even properly touched you. Your core is hot and sticky against your panties while you clench around nothing while his every word makes you writhe to be filled. "Then w-why don't you?"

"Because there's plenty of time for that, princess." He flashes you a smile. Plenty of time? Why did he make it sound as if this wasn't a one time thing? As if you'd be back for more? "This is for you remember? Gotta pay you back."

You yelp when Seokjin lifts your ass, thumbs finally dragging your panties down your legs and throwing them behind him before he spreads your legs with a hunger. "Let me taste you, hm?"

Seokjin pushes your skirt around your waist, exposing your core to his hungry eyes, drinking in how you look all spread out for him. Just the sight of him so close to your dripping heat makes the coil in your stomach tighten and you're sure you could cum just from the way his lips part in anticipation.

He looks up at you for confirmation, smirking when you nod your head before falling back against the couch weakly when he drags a finger down your slit teasingly, licking his lips when you mewl at the brief contact with your clit. "So pretty."

He sinks back against his heels, cheek warm against your inner thigh, hot breath caressing your clit. A moan escapes you at the feeling much to his amusement, his bruising grip on your thighs stopping you from bucking up. "Hurry up — mmf — please."

For the first time he listens to your request, skipping the teasing to run a long stripe up your soaking slit. Seokjin groans against your clit and you quiver, his staggered breaths hot against your dripping folds. "Taste so good, sweetheart."

"S-Seokjin," Hands spread your legs as far as they cN go and then plump lips engulf your clit, sucking with a perfect harshness that makes your legs shake and your head fall back with a gasp, hands tangling in his blonde locks tightly enough to have him groaning blissfully. "Fingers!"

The breathiness of your voice makes him chuckle against your heat, vibrations enough to have your knees straining to close around his head, the pressure between them almost too much. "What was that?"

"Fingers," You reiterate, aware of how fucked out you soundjust from feeling his tongue on your clit, every teasing flick making your entrance pulse. "Inside me, now."

"No please?" The drag of Seokjin's flat tongue down your slit to prod at your hole is sinful, the way he took to fucking you with his tongue teasingly drawing small whimpers from your lips. It's mesmerising how he knows just how to make you fall apart.

"P-please!"

The gentle brush of his nose against your clit nearly has you coming on the spot. "Turn over." He growls against your mound. An arm wraps around your waist and before you can protest his mouth leaving your heat, you are being flipped onto your hands and knees, Seokjin's palm pushing your head down against your forearms so that your ass comes up for his viewing pleasure. "That's more like it."

"F-fuck." It feels dirty being on display for him like this, dripping wet and wiggling your hips, desperate for friction against your spread folds. Pressing your cheek to the couch, you catch a glimpse of Seokjin's expression as he takes you in, eyes black with desire, lips still coated in your sticky arousal.

"Shit." His breath hitches. "Such a pretty pussy, hm?"

It's your turn to take a shaky inhale when a single finger circles your entrance, Seokjin humming approvingly when you clench hopelessly around nothing. Knowing you are so close to being filled even with a single finger gets you panting, circling your hips and trying to sink down onto the digit that smears your wetness through your folds lewdly. Seokjin pulls his hand away with a click of his tongue.

"That desperate to be filled, baby?" His tone is taunting, followed by a chuckle when you whine at the way his words make your clit throb. "Fuck, such a slut, dripping wet for just my fingers."

He reaches around to press the pad of his finger against your lips and you suck it instinctively, humming when you taste yourself, some of your sticky arousal smearing on your chin. Seokjin's head rolls back, the visual practically sending him into sensory overload.

"Such a slut," A loud slap fills the room, a palm landing flat against your upturned ass, the sensation making you cry out in surprise. His breath is hot and ragged against your ear. "You like that?"

Despite the embarrassed shake of your head another smack lands to the flesh of your other cheek with enough force to leave a mark this time. It stings when he rubs his calloused hands over the reddening skin that is now burning hot where it collided with his palm but the pain quickly dissipates to pleasure and you bite your hand to stop from moaning out too lewdly. "Use your words, princess."

"Seokjin!" You can't hold back from whining his name when his palm lands straight on your heat, the sharp pain a somehow welcome relief when he instantly rubbed a few soothing circles into your folds with the pads of his fingers, each graze of your clit making your legs shake uncontrollably. "I-I need more."

"This?" Without warning he presses two fingers into your pussy, entrance squeezing around him wildly at the pleasant stretch. Every flick of his wrist permeates through the locker room with a loud squelch, testament of just how worked up you were.

"Ugh!" Every drag of his fingers against your velvety walls has your eyes rolling back, the way he curls the digits with every thrust hitting your sweet spot perfectly, like he knew exactly how to drive you crazy. "S-so good."

You are starting to get out of breath, meeting his thrusts by rocking back against his hand and this time he doesn't protest, encouraging you by kneading the flesh of your ass and groaning in time with the sharp gasps leaving your lips each time the heel of his hand brushes your swollen clit.

"Think you can cum again with just my fingers, baby?" The way you clench around around his digits is a tell tale sign that your second high is close. Just his words alone nearly make you fall over the edge, words slurred as you try to focus on anything other than the unrelenting pulse between your legs.

"N-need more." You sound utterly fucked out, eyes squeezed shut and lost to the feeling of being filled but the stretch isn't quite enough and you need more to tip you over the edge. "Another one."

Seokjin lines up a third finger with your entrance, the ring on his finger cold against your hot walls as he slides it in beside the others at an agonisingly slow pace; to allow you to adjust to the stretch or to taunt you can't tell. By the time he gets to his knuckles your body is wracked with laboured breaths, quivering knees barely able to hold your weight as you bite the inside of your cheeks to curb a string of whines at being finally filled.

Of course, his fingers weren't as good as the real thing and you wonder how he is able to control himself when your mouth waters at the thought of feeling him inside of you instead of his hand.

The room is still a little humid from the showers, a layer of sweat glistening across your skin as you chase your high with determination, the stickiness between your legs dripping down Seokjin's wrist and making him tut, the click of his tongue heightening the sensation.

"That's it, cum for me." The authority lacing his tone tips you over the edge, another smack stinging your ass as you bury your face in the couch with a cry, the feeling of his fingers pumping you through your high almost too much to bare but as soon as they are ripped away and you're left clenching around nothing you miss the feeling of being full.

"So pretty when you cum." Seokjin murmurs. Under normal circumstances you would have been embarrassed, self conscious even with your ass up for anyone to see, release leaking on to the couch, but you're too fucked out to care about anything m, barely able to register Seokjin's new found gentleness as he flips you onto your back and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear while you focus on returning your breathing back to a normal pace.

"Holy shit." The beat of your heart seemsdeafening in your ears, the only other sound you can comprehend being Seokjin's own ragged breathing.

"Fuck, I nearly just came in my pants." When you manage to turn your head he is staring straight at you with disbelief, eyes travelling to your swollen lips. "I'm going to jerk off to this image forever."

"Me too." You murmur honestly.

Your lids fall shut in post orgasm bliss, not expecting the incoming peck Seokjin presses to your parted lips. It is barely a kiss, plump flesh of his lips brushing yours for less than a second but a funny warmth spreads through your chest at the gesture. Seokjin seems as surprised as you, as if he can't quite believe he just did that, shuffling to the other side of the couch to put some distance between you.

"You should uh, get dressed." He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly and turning away to give you some privacy, as if he hadn't just had his head between your legs just a moment ago.

His behaviour, albeit kind of strange, makes you smirk and you decide it won't hurt to tease. "Well, at least now we're even."

Seokjin bites his lip when he turns around to find your skirt back around your thighs, overcome with a new confidence, sauntering over and palming your ass like he owns it. "Nope, not getting away that easily. I think you'll find I made you cum twice. So now you owe me. Again."

"And what do I owe you this time, Kim Seokjin?" You place your hands on his chest, no instinct to push him away for some reason. "Golfing with your brother up next?"

"No," He scoffs. "My brother wouldn't be caught dead with a club."

"Then what?"

You notice the glint in his eye again, the one you are starting to crave. "Let me get to know you."

"Isn't that what you did today?"

He shakes his head. "The real you."

[dontcare77ghj]

Warm & Cool

Bucky x reader x Loki

No-one knew how it happened. No-one on the team or in your personal lives knew how it happened. The best they could describe it was a series of events that ended with the three of you together.

You had been a part of the Avengers since the events of New York. Loki had been sent to Earth under Thor’s supervision as punishment. As the two of you got closer Steve caught news of Bucky not being dead and started his search for the man. It was in the early months of your relationship with the God, that Bucky was brought to the compound.

If it had taken a while for you to get closer to Loki, the man had invaded New York after all, it was an eternity before the two of you admitted your attraction to the one armed soldier to each other. And don’t even get either of you started on how long it took the two of you to invite Bucky out to dinner.

There were many bets that the three of you would not last. Many, many bets. But here you all were seven months later, still committed to this relationship and each other.

“I have never felt more sympathy for Steve than I do now.” You groaned, turning away from Bucky who let out another sigh. “Poor Stevie.”

“Stevie is a punk and could never take care of himself. I was being a good friend and helping him out. Please just let me take care of you, doll.” Bucky begged, running a hand down his face.

You were sick. It was all Clint’s fault. The ma who was basically your brother had begged you to look after your niece and nephews while your boyfriends were busy so he could go out with Laura. Because you love your niece and nephews you’d eagerly agreed to watch over the children.

What you weren’t happy about was the fact all three children had caught the flu and Clint had not mentioned this tid bit to you at all. Since Loki was back on Asgard with his brother, Bucky had taken it upon himself to ensure you got better.

“You’re trying to poison me!” You cried, pulling the blanket over your head.

“Doll, please. Just take the medicine. You’re not going to get well if you don’t take it.” He sighed.

“It’s disgusting Buck. It’ll make me throw up.” You whined, refusing to let Bucky pull the sheet off your body. “Loki would never treat me like this.”

“No, he’d use magic on you doll. And you remember how that makes you feel after.” He reminded you, making you groan.

You’d only ever been sick around your Asgardian boyfriend once. As his people never get sick, he’d been quite panicky at the sight of you laid up in bed, too ill to move. After witnessing how you were for an hour, he’d decided to use magick to cure you.

While the sickness faded quickly, the after effects had lasted longer than the sickness would have.

“It makes you feel like shit. Trust me Buck.” You said, popping your head out of the blanket. “Fine, give me the medication.” You sighed, holding your hand out in front of him. Bucky gave you a smug smile as he poured two pills out of the bottle.

“Here you go, doll.” He smiled as he passed them to you. “You’ll thank me for helping you get well soon.” He said as you took them dry.

“I hate pills.” You groaned, leaning back in bed. Bucky shifted so he was sitting next to you.

“Oh, my poor baby doll.” Bucky cooed, wrapping his metal arm around your small frame. “Has to take pills to get better.”

“Oh, that’s so nice.” You moaned as Bucky’s cool hand rested on your warm skin. “Don’t move your hand, James.”

“Doll, you’re burning up.” Bucky realized as he pressed his flesh hand to your forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I was a bit busy trying not to get poisoned, James.” You murmured, leaning on his shoulder and pressing his hand onto your forehead. “Please don’t move your hand. It’s so nice.”

“I won’t move until you want me to, doll. I promise.” He assured you, running his flesh hand through your hair. “Go to sleep doll.” He told you several minutes later as your eyes began to flutter.

“Love you, Buck.” You murmured, pressing yourself further into his cool appendage.

“Love you too, Y/N.”

Summer. The time for the beach and for pools. The time for ice cream and cooling drinks of lemonade. Summer, the hottest time to be alive and the most uncomfortable time of the year.

Tony wasn’t sure what had happened but for whatever reason he couldn’t fix the tower’s A.C. system. He’d been working on it for the past two days and in those two days, the three of you hadn’t let your floor.

It was simply far too hot and, in an effort, to keep cool you and Bucky had been walking around in as little clothing as possible. Loki had found the whole situation amusing as you and Bucky sat in front of multiple fans in your undergarments, or less.

“I’m sweating like a pig.” Bucky complained, resting his metal arm in a cooler full of ice. “How are you walking around in all leather, babe?” He asked as Loki entered the room with a book in hand.

“Because it’s not hot.” He said, sitting next to you on the couch. “How are you today, my love?” Loki questioned you, resting his hand on your knee.

“I’m dying.” You groaned. “Sorry, hon, but it’s far too hot for skin to skin contact.” You said, brushing his hand off your knee.

“I don’t understand the two of you. I feel the heat much stronger than you both, yet I don’t think it to be warm in the slightest.” Loki shook his head opening the book in his hands.

“I would imagine your summers on Asgard are much hotter.” You commented. “But for us mortals, this is hot.”

“This is almost like a cool spring day to me.” Loki agreed.

“Back in my day it was never this hot.” Bucky grumbled, sounding much more like a man of his biological age.

“Yeah that’s because we ruined the planet since your day and age, Buck.” You said, rolling your eyes. “It’s called global warming, old man.”

“Loki is older than me.” Bucky pouted.

“At least I know how to adapt to the modern world at a relatively quick pace.” Loki said, making you smirk.

“You two are mean.” Bucky said, pulling his arm out of the melted ice and placing it on his chest. “That’s nice.” He sighed at the cool feeling.

“I’ll be nice until it burns you.” You pointed out.

“Well it’s not like there’s any other way to get cool right now.” Bucky said.

“If it makes the two of you stop complaining, I know a way to keep you cool.” Loki voiced without looking up from his book.

“If it keeps us cool, I’ll stop complaining.” Bucky agreed as you nodded.

“Very well then.” Loki said, closing his book. “Come here Bucky.” Loki said, shifting on the couch closer to you. He wrapped one arm around you and the other around Bucky once he sat and suddenly his skin turned a vivid shade of blue.

His skin was much cooler to the touch and you let out a content sigh as you pressed your face into his neck.

“This is perfect.” You smiled, pressing a kiss to his pulse point. “Thank you, darling.”

“Of course, my loves.” Loki said, leaning back on the couch with his book back in his hands. You and Bucky relaxed in his cooling grip, none of you saying anything as you cooled off and Loki read, before you and Bucky drifted off in his hold.

Non-reader POV

“We need more blankets.” Loki stated, getting out of bed and moving into the walk in.

“There are no more blankets, babe.” Bucky stated. “We have them all on the bed.” He added as Loki exited the closet with a scowl.

“How can we own so few blankets?” The God questioned the solider as he quickly got back into bed.

“There’s sixteen on the bed right now, Loki.” Bucky reminded him. “How many more blankets do you want?”

“Enough to make it bearable to sleep next to your frozen body.” Loki said, narrowing his eyes at his boyfriend. “How are you this cold?”

“Metal arm.” Bucky shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s winter Loki. It’s cold.”

“Far too cold.” Loki muttered under his breath.

“For a man who is part frost giant, you’d think you’d be able to handle a little chill.” Bucky teased, having heard him with his advanced hearing . 

"Only half of me is frost giant, the other half of me still feels the chill in the air, James." Loki said.

"I don't care if you're half vampire. I still love you." Bucky smiled, intertwining their fingers.

"I know." Loki smirked, though it was not a malicious smirk but a rather soft one.

"Did you just Han Solo him?" Y/N asked now standing in the doorway. Y/N had been on a mission with Steve and Natasha for several days now and though both men could see how exhausted she was, she still had a bright smiled plastered on her face.

"Neither of us know what that means love." Loki smiled, lifting back the many blankets as she stripped into her underwear.

"Remind me in the morning to add that to the last of movies you need to watch." You said, crawling into the offered space between the men.

"You're so warm, doll. We missed you." Bucky said, pressing his nose into your neck.

"I missed you too." You murmured, running your fingers through his hair.

"I never realised how warm you run, love." Loki commented, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"I run hot." You said, becoming drowsy because of the almost suffocating warmth.

"That you do." Bucky smiled, pulling both you and the God closer to him. The three of you continued an attempt at conversation but it eventually turned into indistinct murmurs.

After nearly a half hour of mindless mumbles and murmurs the three of you drifted off to sleep. And throughout the night the sixteen blankets became one and even that one was pushed to the end of the bed because it was no longer needed.

The boys weren't cold with your warmth next to them.

Taglist

@piper-koko-barnes-rogers @hopingforbarnes @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @rvgrsbrns @jelly-fishy-babie @smilexcaptainx @starlingelliot

Show me your support. Give it a like. Leave a comment. Share with your friends and reblog. Inbox/message me any comments, ideas, pairings, taglist requests, or whatever you wish.

Coming soon;

Dean x reader x Cas

Wanda x reader x Vision

Steve x reader x Wanda

Natasha x reader x Tony x Bucky

Natasha x reader x Wanda

Tony x reader x Steve

[salt-warrior]

WHEN EARTH TURNS TO ASHES

Masterlist

Chapter Ten: Overprotective Shadow

Lights faded in and out between Cinder's dreams of the past. Dreams of a mother who only wanted her to be happy, of a boy who loved her, a sister that idolized her, and a friend who tried to find a cure for Selene's problem. All of them were painful.

The mental agony of Cinder's dreams dulled the pain of reality for a short time. She wondered if she had finally died—if She had found a way to kill her yet— but Cinder couldn't remember anything. The last thing she could recall was driving to school, and then–

A sudden jolt shot through Cinder, her eyes snapping open as memories flooded her mind. The accident, the fire, the boy. What had happened to the boy? What if I killed him, too, Cinder worried. But no, it shouldn't work like that. Don't they have to love me?

"Even my wildest fantasies couldn't imagine you being this hot awake." 

Cinder flinched, turning to see a boy sitting next to her. She hadn't noticed him before, and maybe that had been for the best. His mere presence agitated her.

Could it be him? Selene looked into the man's eyes; they were a clear crystal blue. No, her savior had born eyes of copper and flames.

"No pun intended." The annoying man winked, leaning back in the plastic hospital chair. He had sandy brown hair, a strong jaw, and an easy smile accompanied by the dimples of a church boy. He wore tennis shoes, blue jeans and a Star Wars t-shirt with Han Solo on the front and captioned "I know."

Cinder frowned. The boy smiled. "Who the hell–"

"Ah, no need for blatant questioning and accusations." The man stuck out his right hand, a crooked, wicked smile on his face. "Carswell Thorne, at your service." He cupped his left hand to the side of his mouth, as if he were telling her a secret. "But you can just call me Thorne."

Cinder blinked, and Thorne lowered his hand, smile disappearing. "Where's all your fire?" Thorne exclaimed, giving her a questioning glance. Cinder glared at him, and he seemed to realize his mistake. "I mean your personality, not the car stuff," Thorne clarified.

"Why are you here? I don't know you," Cinder croaked, her voice scraggy from lack of use. "Where's..." Cinder was about to ask for someone she knew— someone who loved her— but they were all dead.

"Am I that disappointing?" Thorne inquired, exasperated.

"I mean," Cinder clarified. "Where's the boy with the eyes?" she flushed, realizing how stupid she sounded, but she had only seen the eyes of her savior, nothing more.

Thorne stuck out his jaw, his face perplexed. "I'm a boy, I have eyes, I feel like I meet your expectations just fine."

Cinder huffed, wanting to strangle Thorne the more she talked to him. "There was a boy who pulled me out of my burning car. Where is he?" Cinder felt her stomach roll with dread. What if I killed him too?

"Oh, you mean Crown. He's not here." Thorne nodded his head like a complacent beach boy. "Speaking of which, I should probably call him. He's a little too excited to meet you. A bit like a puppy." Thorne rolled his eyes. "Well, I guess you've already met, but you were a little out of it. Understandably."

Cinder hit him. Not hard, but a simple backhand to the shoulder. She was done with this man, who she had never met before, and his stupidity.

"Aces, ow! What was that for, Selene?" Thorne put a hand to where Cinder had struck him, his face indignant. He was so caught up in his "injury" that he didn't notice Cinder freeze, her face pale as parchment. "Sel–"

Throwing herself forward, Cinder covered his mouth with her uninjured hand. Pain laced her entire left side, but she didn't stop. Thorne's muffled protests pursued, and he tried to get Cinder's hand away from his pie hole. Cinder refused to let go, too scared of what would happen if he said her name. That was until he licked Cinder's hand. She retreated immediately. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he died.

"What the aces and spades?" Thorne exclaimed, scrunching his nose. "Look, S–"

"Don't call me that!" Cinder yelled, startling Thorne enough to make him drop all his flirtations. "Don't call me S... don't call me that name."

Thorne softened, taking a gentler side to things. His face lost its mischievous gleam, and he leaned forward in his seat. "Okay, what do you want me to call you then?"

There was a slight shock to seeing this calming side of Thorne. She wouldn't have believed he had a tame side if she hadn't seen it staring into her face. "Cinder. Call me Cinder."

Thorne's face contorted with horror, and then he seemed to be attempting to hold in laughter. Apparently his considerate side wasn't that strong. "You're kidding. You're..." Thorne looked at Cinder's face, taking in her expression before sobering. "You're not kidding."

Cinder glared. She wouldn't much mind if her gaze caused him to alight in flames. "Okay, Cinder," Thorne said. "If you don't mind, I'm gonna call your boyfriend. Like I said, he wants to see you." Cinder continued to glare, but didn't stop him.

Pulling out his phone, Thorne dialed a well acquainted number, fingers dancing. It only took one ring for a frantic voice to answer on the other end. Cinder could hear the faint voice of a boy, though not what he was saying.

Cinder kept her eyes on Thorne, making sure he didn't say her name. Apparently Thorne had the memory of a goldfish.

"Yeah, Sel–" Cinder interrupted Thorne with another backhand. "Ow! Would you stop that?" Thorne pulled the phone away from his face, glaring at Cinder.

"I told you not to call me that!" Cinder bellowed.

"I remember that, thanks." Thorne remarked sarcastically.

"Obviously you didn't, because you just called me that." Cinder huffed, feeling too drained to argue with such gusto.

"Well, Kai won't recognize you by any other name! That's what the nurse said your name was. I'm sorry that you're sour about it," Thorne bit back.

"Just don't call me that name," Cinder growled.

"Fine." Thorne turned back to his phone, bafflement coloring his face like paint. "The girl," Thorne glared at Cinder pointedly, "she's awake. And I've got to admit, I much preferred her asleep."

Cinder scowled, but refrained from hitting Thorne again. She was so tired, and the annoyance it took to simply engage in a conversation with Thorne was draining. She only half-listened to the rest of his conversation, before her mind spun into blackness.

***

Kai glanced into a window. It was dark enough that he could see his reflection, and the way his hair was a complete mess. He ran a hand through it to tame the tangles, wishing for once he had followed Thorne's advice on how maintain his hair. Kai hated putting gel in, though.

What are you doing? Kai asked himself. She just woke up from a coma, and why do you even care? She's just a girl. But she wasn't just a girl.

The hospital was busy, people flitting in and out of rooms as visitor hours drew towards a close. Kai's body was vibrating with nervous energy. He was finally going to be able to talk to her. He would talk to Selene.

Cinder.

Kai was confused by the name change, but Thorne had been adamant about it, complaining of bruises as he relayed the information to Kai. Of course some people hated what their parents named them. Kai himself despised being called Kaito, but Cinder wasn't even close to Selene. Kai had thought it was a joke at first, Thorne being inappropriate as always, but it wasn't.

No nurses stood in with Cinder as she lay nearly motionless on her bed. She was awake, staring down her arm at the patched skin that had once been burns, dark hair falling down around her face.

The treatment they had used on her was new, and worked on healing skin incredibly fast. Already Cinder's flesh was looking healthy, and only a little bit patchy and pink in some parts. Kai marveled at the progress that had happened in only ten days.

"Hey," Kai tapped his knuckles lightly on her door, startling Cinder from her awe. Looking at her sent shivers down Kai's spine. He remembered the first time he'd seen her, surrounded by fire, and how he'd thought she looked like an avenging angel. Even without the fire she still had a blaze about her that made her seem dark and powerful.

Selene always had a darkness about her— almost as if her shadow was a living being there to torture her forever. Kai shook Cress's words away, although not before noticing that Cinder did seem to have an overprotective shadow.

"You look really good." Kai smiled, before feeling his stomach fall. "I mean, you always looked good. You never looked bad. I was just meaning that you look better. Your skin is looking great." Kai cringed. Your skin is looking great? He sounded like a creep.

"That came out wrong." Kai said, biting his lip before sighing exasperatedly. "What I meant to say is that you've healed a lot since I last saw you."

Cinder stared at him, not saying a word. Her eyes were huge and brown and beautiful. Kai looked away from them, knowing that if he continued to gaze into her eyes he would never be able to look away.

"My name is Kai, by the way." Kai said, sitting down in the cold plastic seat. "Well, it's Kaito, Kaito Crown, but only my father really calls me that. You can just call me Kai." He didn't know why he was babbling so much. Kai hardly ever babbled, and it was only when he was nervous.

"I don't know if you remember me. You were basically unconscious, but you did look at me for a few seconds before blacking out." Cinder blinked, still not speaking. Kai wondered if Thorne had been making up the story about her beating him up. She was so mellow.

"I'm also sorry about Thorne. He's a pain, but he means well. I asked him to stay with you while I was... away." Kai didn't know why he wasn't telling her about his visit to Olympia. She had a right to know that he had gone snooping in her business, but something about her stare and the rejection of her name made Kai think she wouldn't be too happy about it.

"Why'd you do it?" Cinder whispered, her voice defiant.

Kai froze. Did she know that he had been investigating her past? Kai had told Thorne not to tell her, but he never was good at keeping secrets. "Do what?"

"Save me." Cinder's voice was as cold as her stare. Kai worried that the floor would open up and he would be sucked down to Hell.

It was such an odd question. In the moment of the crash, there had been no other answer than to save the girl on fire. It hadn't been a multiple choice test; his only option had been to save her.

"It was the right thing to do. The only thing, really. I couldn't just leave you there," Kai muttered, wringing his hands together. He didn't dare glance at Cinder— he could feel her burning gaze.

"Oh, so you're the noble type. You could have gotten yourself killed, or terribly injured. You shouldn't have done it," Cinder snapped.

"Well, I'm fine. You're alive, and I wouldn't change anything about it. I'm sorry if I disappointed you." Kai felt attacked. Maybe it was due to the fact that he was being attacked, but he was going to consider all of the possibilities.

Cinder sagged, her shoulders closing in toward her chest and her face cracking. "I'm sorry, that's not what I meant." She paused, then whispered, "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome," Kai murmured, feeling undeserving of her thanks. It physically hurt Kai to look at her showing so much pain and humility. She was just a girl—a teenager—and she deserved to be saved. She deserved to be loved, and she had never gotten that.

"Listen, Cinder," Kai moved closer to her. "Can I ask you why you changed your name?"

Kai had crossed a line. He could tell by the way Cinder tensed up, regret and guilt stabbing him the moment the words had left his lips. Why did he have to be so rude and nosy? She was lying in a hospital bed feeling terrible, and Kai had brought up something to make her feel even worse.

"No. You can't." Cinder's eyes filled with rage. "Nor are you allowed to ask me why I ran away from home or why I have no emergency contact or anything else about my life."

"Okay, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up." Kai curled in on himself, moving away from Cinder. He felt defenseless against her words, and terrible guilt was eating at him for digging into her past without permission. He felt like a trespasser.

"You may think that I'll worship you just because you saved me, but I didn't ask you to." Cinder's words cut like knives. "I may owe you my life, but you won't get my past."

Kai nodded, choking on the words that he should have been saying. He needed to apologize, but the only thing that came out was: "I– I think I should go."

Cinder didn't even look at him as he walked out the door.

[ravinewreyn]

HELSAWEEK 2020 DAY 2: MODERN

Fandom: Frozen - Actor/Actress Verse Pairing: Hans/Elsa Rating: T Word Count: 2.9K Note: No angst, just darlings loving each other

It had never occurred to her that starring at one movie could change her life so much.

And while, yes, the movie was a complete blockbuster, one would even say that it had become some sort of a new culture where most of people in the world had known and grown to love the movie, not a day was passed without children singing what people had called ‘the biggest hit song for a movie’ -that coincidentally was sung by her, it was not exactly what she had been referring to. Yes, the movie had made her name known throughout the world, everyone who heard of her name would instantly connected her to the movie and the song, and for her it had meant for more cast offers and working with various amazing directors, but it was all career-wise.

No, what she had meant was her private life.

Working for months with her co-stars had certainly made them all grew closer together, with a bond that was close to being a family even. Often they would spend their time after filming to get something to eat at some fast-food restaurant, laughing and joking as they lightly discussed what had occurred during the day before each one of them had gone off their separated ways to get the rest they needed before their next shoot.

For Elsa, who had lived all by herself ever since she moved to the big city to pursue her career in acting, it was truly a moment that she cherished most during filming. Even for someone who liked the peace and quiet compared to parties and all, it was rather lonely to go back to her apartment right after she had wrapped the day’s shoot. So, she was grateful to have her co-stars.

It had been years since the movie was released to the theaters all across the globe, the hard work that the cast and crew had done, the beautiful Norway scenery and the music that was created for the soundtrack, all had finally been able to be shared to the world. People moved on, and even when they no longer had to work together, the five co-stars still kept themselves in touch.

So, it was not all that surprising when the familiar name had popped up as the caller’s ID as her phone rung, the picture of the two of them that they had taken during coffee break filling the phone’s screen as she slid the green button up to accept it.

“Hi Anna,” her on-screen younger sister lived at the other side of the city, and sometimes when they both had a free time among their schedule, they would make an appointment for coffee, just to catch up with each other’s lives.

“Hi Elsa,” the strawberry-blonde haired woman’s voice could be heard from the other end of the phone call, and she could faintly hear the blaring speakers in the background. So, she was probably at home, listening to music as she went about her day. “Are you busy?”

Tugging against the doorknob as quietly as she could, she listened to the ‘click’ of it before she moved to walk down the short hallway of her house. “No, not really. What’s up?”

“Nothing, actually. It’s just… after the news, I have the urge to call you, for some reason.”

The corners of her lips tugged into a smile. Of course, she had received the phone call as well, bearing the news that, at first, she could not believe was true. “Yeah, five years and it’s actually happening, huh?”

Anna hummed in agreement. “I remembered when we joked about it, years ago.”

A possible sequel to the movie that had brought them together. Fans had tirelessly questioned them about it, being the two leading ladies that always appeared during interviews and tours, even when the movie had just been released. And the questions had not been limited to press conferences either, the internet was basically flooding with it, along with articles, fan theories, videos, anything and everything really. It was crazy.

And now it was actually happening.

“How’s Hans, by the way?”

That one male co-star of hers. On-screen, their characters were not exactly on good terms, he was the surprise villain after all -even she did not see it coming until she had read the script, but off-screen he was such a sweetheart. He lived closer to her, so she had hung out with him the most compared to the other casts, and to top it all he often drove her home from set during their work together.

They had hit it off rather nicely, in fact.

“Oh, he’s fine, he’s taking it quite well, better than I was, actually.” They were making a sequel, yes, but despite the fact that he was one of the main casts of the previous movie, his character was not included in the next one. She had been rather vocal about it, considering the fact that they did once had discussed of one of the possible plots being his character’s redemption, but apparently the writers had scratched the idea out.

Hans had shrugged it off.

There was a faint beeping sound coming from Anna’s line, and she almost thought she had imagined it, but the strawberry-blonde haired woman’s groan that soon come had proven her that it was truly her alarm. “I have to go.” She grumbled, as the music in the background was turned off. “See you when I see you next?”

Chuckling, as Anna’s method of goodbye was always somewhat amusing -the young woman was well aware of that and had actually did it on purpose just to make her laugh, Elsa had smiled once more. “See you when I see you. Miss you already, sis.”

She couldn’t see it, but she just knew that Anna had grinned before the line had been cut off. A phone call from her dear friend was able to make her heart full with warmth as she slipped her phone into the pocket of her pants, continuing her way toward the master bedroom at the end of the hall.

“Let me guess, it was Anna, wasn’t it?”

The auburn-haired man was already sitting on the bed, clad in his night clothing of grey shirt and cotton pants, reading from a book that he had taken from the bookshelf downstairs, and had only looked up when she had entered the room, green eyes following her as she made her way to the bathroom.

“Of course, it was.” She confirmed, unbuttoning her blouse in front of the mirror, taking a note of the small stain that had somehow managed to find way onto the fabric with a scowl. She would have to make sure she got it off when she did laundry later. “She’s calling me about the sequel project.” Hearing his hum from the other room, she had plopped her head out from the doorway, looking at him. “You know, I’m still a little pissed about them not including you.”

The man had returned to his book when she moved to undress, and had not bothered to look up when she had spoken. “And I’ve told you, darling, it’s fine. Even in the first movie, my character was just kind of there. Besides, maybe the final story would suit the market better.”

“I still strongly believe that your character deserves his redemption.” It was interesting to be put in the movie, not many studios had been able to pull it off, and she had once thought this one can but—

“I’m pleased to see the Snow Queen is thinking about the neighboring traitorous Prince.” Hans grinned, setting his book down when he had finally noticed the state of the clothes she was in; unbuttoned blouse revealing her simple black bra and her toned fair stomach, paired with her ripped jeans and unruly platinum blonde hair.

“Don’t start.” Her roll of eyes had been nothing but out of amusement as she sauntered toward the bed, suddenly her mean of changing into her own night clothes were temporarily abandoned as she sat at the edge of the bed close to him.

“It’s just quite funny,” Hans’ hand had found it’s way on her cheek, thumb running over the high of her cheek. “That people paired our characters together without knowing-”

“-that we’re actually together in real life?” Both she and Hans much preferred it to keep their own private lives as it was, private. When people found them together on the street, they had passed it off as two friends hanging together -and in her defense when they had started to suspect they were still just friends, and slowly the media had grown bored of trying to ‘dig out the truth’ from them and had left them alone when they had actually started dating. It never failed to amuse her to this day.

And despite the fame that had come from starring in the first movie, she had been laying low from the media for some time. This next movie would be her debut back in her acting career.

“You’re still coming with me to Norway, right?”

Hans nodded, hand had left her face to hold against her own, bringing it up to his lips until he could kiss her knuckles. “I’ll follow you to wherever you go.”

One of the beauties of the movie was where it was set and shoot, far across the North Atlantic Ocean, in her home country, actually. She could have stayed in her parents’ house when they had shoot the first movie, but since it was right at the heart of Norway, in Oslo, it was too far from the place of the shoot for her liking, as she would rather take her time to rest than spending at least three hours of driving each morning and each night. That was why she had opted in staying at a local apartment, just like the rest of cast.

Leaning forward, she had pressed her lips against his in a light kiss, just as she rose back onto her feet. “Okay, good. Now I really need to get out of these jeans.” And into something far more comfortable for her to sleep in after a long day.

Hans’ eyes had actually lit up at that, as he watched her returning into the bathroom. “I’m more than happy to assist, you know.”

“Shut up.”

--

She packed everything, right?

Norway had always been so beautiful for her. She took pride in calling it her home and have it being the main set of a movie that was so beloved by everyone, she loved how the crew would come up to her to ask if what they put in the movie -the costumes and decorations as well as the rosemalings and the cultures, was appropriately placed. They honored her homeland like that.

To come back, after years of being up states, was exhilarating.

She still didn’t stay at her parents’ house as it was still too far away from the location, but at least she could visit during break, spend some time with them and catch up, and watching Hans fitting perfectly with her family was also heartwarming. He had been introduced to her Norway culture the moment they had become much more serious in their relationship, and now it almost felt like he had been born in the country just like she.

Speaking of Hans, months ago they had gotten a much larger apartment that would suit their need better compared to the small studio one they used to have when they were both still single, as now they do require the extra space.

“Yes, babe, you’ve packed everything.” Hans chuckled, after seeing how uneasy she was in the passenger seat of their car -the one they had bought and deliberately kept at their apartment in Norway, one hand resting against her knee after she had asked the same question for the third time during their drive. “Stop worrying.”

“It’s just that I’ve never done this before,” neither of them had, so they were basically blanking on what to expect on set. “And I’m just nervous. What if we forgot something? What if we need something and we didn’t pack it?”

“It’s fine. I can do a quick drive to the store if we need anything.”

That did soothe her a little, enough to stop her from asking the same question until they had arrived at the outdoor shoot location. Hans had drove the car smoothly, even over the bumps on the road, and had found the perfect parking location not too far from the small town that they would use for the kingdom scene.

“You go ahead, I’ll catch up.”

Nodding, she had exited the car first, making her way toward where the crew had gathered, eyes scanning through the crowd but unable to find any of her coworkers.

“Elsa!” the familiar voice calling for her had made her head turned, smiling as she waved at the director that had approached her from one of the tents. “Oh, it’s so good to see you!”

“Hi Jen, it’s good to see you too.” Unlike with her coworkers, she hadn’t really kept in contact with the director, not that they were not in good terms, but both had their own different works that did not exactly allow coffee dates anyway. Of course, they had met during the first reading of the script, but it just felt different when they were about to shoot, as they would combine wearing the costumes with actual acting for the movie.

“So early, like always.” It always pleased the director, to see her arriving before any other, though that did not mean that the others were running late. “Did you drive here yourself?”

“Uh no, actually.” Looking over her shoulder, her blue eyes were quick to spot the auburn-haired man making his way toward the two blondes, waving him to come. “Hans is with me.”

The frown on Jen’s face was unavoidable, eyes narrowing as she looked over the man who stood by the platinum blonde haired woman, one arm wrapping around her waist. “Wait, why are you here?” she couldn’t exactly blame her for asking such question, since she had not told her anything about Hans coming either, thinking that it would be a nice little surprise.

“He insisted in accompanying me, hope you don’t mind.”

And she didn’t even get the chance in getting an answer, as the director had noticed the large bag on Hans’ back, as well as the precious cargo he carried with one hand.

“Is that a--”

“Baby!”

Three heads turned toward the newcomer, seeing Anna coming with quick steps toward them, one hand holding up a cup of steaming hot coffee that she no doubted had gotten on her way to the set. She had set the cup on a nearby table, near one of the laptops that earned her a glare from the crew, though she had ignored him completely as she came to kneel by the carrier, already cooing as careful hands lifted up the three month old baby boy with delight.

“You two had a baby?!”

“A son, yes.” The nervous laughter that came from her was accompanied with her hand coming to scratch the back of her neck as she looked at the disbelieved woman. “His name is Wilhelm.”

“And none of you thought of telling me beforehand?”

“I mean, I thought you would have figure it out.” Anna, who had rose back to her feet, shrugged, as she cuddled the baby close to her chest, bundling him with her equally warm clothing. “With Elsa laying low for a year or so.”

She had moved to Norway during her pregnancy, as she really did not wish to be swarmed with press and paparazzi following her wherever she went when all she wanted was to enjoy and prepare for the new chapter of her life. Hans had to travel back and forth between America and Norway, as he had a few movie projects he starred in but still wished to spend as much time as he could with his own little family. It was nice, living a life that did not require her to hide her face as much when she walked down the streets to buy groceries. Some people may have recognized her, but as the country was known to be quite cold, she could wear thick jackets to hide her growing belly.

“I thought you need a break.”

“It is a break. Maternity break.”

Jen had glared at her answer, arms crossed over her chest, whether to shield herself away from the cold or because she had just discovered the main star of her movie was a mother she couldn’t really tell, but she did step forward, peering into Anna’s arms at the babe sound asleep in her embrace. “He is cute though.” She admitted, and just by the look that she had, Elsa could tell that already her son was stealing people’s hearts once again. “I still can’t believe none of you told me about him sooner.”

“Ah, well, here he is now.” Ready to see his Mama in action, wearing regal dresses and wielding the magic of special effects of a hopefully billion dollars grossing movie, if it met with the same excitement that it’s first movie that received.  “Now, let’s make that sequel happen.”

[purplesurveys]

944

Things won’t get better unless you make them better Survey by emptyspaces

Do you agree with the quote in the survey title? For the most part, yes. A lot of the good things that have happened or come to me did so because I did something about them to some extent. I wouldn’t have begun dating my girlfriend if I didn’t ask her out, I wouldn’t have gotten this internship offer if I didn’t send a letter of interest, etc.

How many windows are on the front of your house? There’s one tiny window on the left side, then on the right is one big window but with three panes.

What common problem have you never experienced? Commuting at rush hour or getting the chickenpox.

Alternatively, what's an uncommon problem you have experienced? Being chased by a giant bird that I was trying to take a quick snapshot of from a distance.

Do you know anyone who opposes marriage equality? You mean the entire Filipino population who isn’t a millennial or from Gen Z? Sure. I can give you a novel with a list of names.

Are you an early riser or a night owl? I’m...both. I barely sleep. I have a 9-6 day shift but I also accompany Gab for a few hours on her 9-6 night shift, but honestly I don’t get tired from it at all. I seem to do well with only 3-4 hours of sleep.

What was the last thing you got really emotional about? Her and I.

What's the longest amount of time you've been ill for? That week-long fever I had a few months ago. Prior to that I only ever had quick overnight fevers, so you could just imagine my horror when my fever turned into 2 days, then 3, until a whole week passed and I was still playing around 38-39ºC.

What's your cure for hiccups? I hold my breath but it doesn’t always work. I don’t have other cures for it and I just let it naturally go away.

Who is your closest male friend? My eldest cousin on my mom’s side. Or Hans, but we only ever talk when Angela’s present or involved.

Do you track your spending? Yes. I only get an allowance so it’s not much, and I especially had to track it when I was still in school because back then I had to allot for gas, food, and course readings. 

Are you addicted to anything? I love love love my dogs, but I don’t know if that counts as an ‘addiction.’

What was your life like 5 years ago? Where were you living, working, etc? I was in my senior year in high school. It was two months after I went through a bad breakup, less than a month since I went through a grandparent’s death for the first time, and it was around the time I had taken the ACET. Not the best of times, and I can’t believe my life is as turbulent five years later. It just doesn’t feel fair, lol.

Have you ever let a mental health issue go untreated? It’s been untreated for around a decade now. Idk man, it will take a lot for me to be convinced to share my life story and most inner thoughts to a therapist who is also a stranger.

Do you know anyone who hunts for meat? No.

Have you ever lived with a boyfriend/girlfriend? I haven’t. I wouldn’t want that at 22, I think it’s way too early to be doing it. I don’t even have my own place yet.

What do you wash dishes with? Sponge, scrub brush, rag, something else? A sponge and the wire ball thing that makes it easier to scrape off dried rice.

Is there anything you prefer to do the old-fashioned way? Weddings. I will always fall head over heels in love over weddings where the color scheme is super simple and there aren’t a lot of over-the-top gimmicks that will kill the vibe of it being a serene ceremony.

How old were you when your parents first let you have a TV in your room? Well I shared a room with my parents and siblings up until I was 10 and we had a TV. When I was 11 and we moved in to a new house, my new room already came with my own TV. They eventually removed it when I was around 17 because I never used it anyway.

Are you more practical or creative? Practical. Not a creative bone in my body.

Have you ever seen Requiem For A Dream? I have seen it twice, unfortunately. I really should’ve seen it just the one time. I felt for the women the most, especially Marion. That girl had a goddamn dream, man.

Do you put your glasses and mugs right side up or upside down on the cabinet shelf? Upside down.

Are you planning to make any big purchases soon? Like what? For how much? Nothing big. I’m just trying to save my internship allowance so that I get to buy my parents nice things. The only purchase I’m planning for myself, admittedly, is a vape lmao and that’s like ₱199 or a little under $4. Otherwise everything is going to either savings or treating my loved ones.

Are you a recent university grad? I am indeed.

What changes to the environment/climate have you noticed in your lifetime? The highway I live on used to be peppered with trees, now there are buildings everywhere. It’s also impossible to see the stars at night, especially in Metro Manila; thankfully it’s not as bad where I live.

Do you own any power tools? We have some at home but none of them are mine.

How old were you when you first flew on a plane? 11.

Does everyone in your family get along with each other? My brother and I don’t.

What did you have for dinner last night? My dad prepared sisig and munggo, but I only ate the sisig.

What was the worst part of your childhood? The alcoholism and domestic violence I was exposed to the second I was born.

What grocery items do you buy the most frequently? I don’t buy my own groceries yet but I would say my parents go for eggs, bread, onions, garlic, frozen meat, and some veggies the most.

Have you ever seen a high school relationship last long-term? (like 10+yrs) Not from my own high school, but someone I used to work with from my first internship has been with her guy for like 15 years now or something.

Do you know any cancer survivors? Yes.

What color is your bed frame? It issssss black.

How old were you when you first started dating? I’ve never really...dated around. Doesn’t happen as a demi. I started liking someone for the first time when I was 16.

What's the highest-level science course you've taken? I’m from a humanities/arts course so I never needed to push myself when it came to science courses haha. I took only the most basic biology and physics electives because that was all that was required for journalism students in my school.

Have you ever had something stolen from you? Yes.

Leftover pizza for breakfast... yay or nay? YAY. Cold, fast food pizza is my guilty pleasure.

Do you personally know anyone who's a psychopath or sociopath? No. Again, what’s up with surveys asking the exact same questions? Y’alls telepathy games are strong, lol.

What is your most used kitchen appliance? I don’t use any of them other than the refrigerator.

[lunatens]

ghost of you

pairing: ghost!han jisung x gender neutral reader

word count: 1.3k

genre: fluff, platonic, ghost!au

warnings: mentions of death (it is a ghost au after all)

a/n: I got the idea for this a sUPER long time ago lmao I got inspired by the song ghost of you by 5sos but then I wasn’t feeling angsty and emo and sad so I just made it cute and fluffy and that’s why it’s platonic bc I feel like romance would get super angsty idk aNYWAYS !! I hope this is good I might write more for this au  if people are interested? (also it was originally gonna be about hyunjin but then idk jisung fit better somehow lol)

~

“is that the last of it?” minho asks, dusting off his hands after he sets what seems like the millionth cardboard box on the floorboards of your new apartment. 

“i think so? thanks again for all the help minho, it would’ve taken me so long to do this all by myself.” you and minho have spent all day moving everything in, blaring tunes and taking (too many) snack breaks. it was fun, but it was a lot of work, and now you’re tasked with decorating the place. minho waves goodbye before heading out the door. you listen to him go down the three flights of stairs, get in his car and pull out of the tiny parking lot. you’re alone at last, and you take a moment to enjoy the blissful silence; no more annoying roommates to wake you up too early in the morning or steal your food or take too-long showers. minho and a few of your other friends have invited themselves over tomorrow night for dinner (you agreed only if they promised to provide all the food), so you’re determined to make your new place look all nice before they come--needless to say, you’ve got a pretty busy 24 hours coming up. you brush thei hair from your eyes, grab the exacto knife from the kitchen counter, and set to work opening box after box of your belongings.

***

several hours have passed; the kitchen and bathroom are both done, leaving just the common area and your room. there’s cardboard everywhere--you promise yourself you’ll clean it up tomorrow. besides your bed in the corner and the small bookshelf you’ve spent the last two hours building, your room is completely empty. you let out a heavy sigh, picking a new playlist on spotify before beginning the process of decorating your room. it’s not long before you’re standing tippy-toed as you lean awkwardly over your desk to flatten a poster of your favourite band on the wall.

“it’s crooked, just fyi,” a voice rings out from behind you. you scream in shock, tripping over your desk chair as you turn around to face the source of the voice. you land with a dull thud and a groan on your hardwood floor. a face appears above yours, eyebrows furrowed in concern. the face belongs to a boy who looks about the same age as you, although unlike you, he’s slightly translucent and gives off a pale blue glow.

“are you okay? wow, you’re pale--you look as though you’ve just seen a ghost! HAHA! that was pretty funny, right?” the boy says, giggling at his own joke. you sit up and stare wide eyed and sheet-faced at him. as you process what he said, connecting it to his appearance, you open your mouth to let out another shriek. the boy glides over to you, worry washed over his face.

“no no no!! please don’t be scared! well, actually i guess that’s a lot to ask. don’t scream though, it’s really loud and hurts my ears and might concern the neighbours,” he asks, sitting cross legged in front of you on the floor. you shut your mouth, dumbfounded. 

“okay, let’s take this slow, alright? i’m jisung, you’re y/n from what i heard earlier, right?” the ghost asks. he speaks softly and slowly, clearly trying to avoid setting you off again. you nod silently.

“cool! so i uh, imagine this is a bit of a shock to you, but basically, yes, i’m a ghost. oooh, spooky,” jisung says, waving his hands for effect. he giggles at himself. 

“a ...ghost..” you repeat, trying to make sense of this situation. jisung nods enthusiastically.

“see? you’ve got it! honestly that was easier than i thought it would be. anyways, i came here to tell you i’ve been watching you decorate your apartment for the past couple hours, and you have a terrible sense of interior design. like, really bad.”

“so--wait, hold up. you’re telling me first of all, ghosts are real, and second of all, there's one right in front of me who’s here to judge my interior design abilities?” you ask in disbelief. 

“well, lack thereof--i wouldn’t say you have any abilities. but yes, that’s all true,” jisung says.

“okay,”

“okay?”

“okay.” you take in a deep breath; time to reassess your entire life. 

“...can i touch you?” you ask after a long pause. jisung just smiles shyly and holds his arm out.

“go for it,” he says, and you gasp as your fingers pass right through him. the air feels a little cold where his arm is supposed to be, but otherwise there’s nothing.

“woah.”

“i know, this is probably pretty freaky for you. but get used to it, because i’m not going anywhere any time soon! i’ve decided you’re my new bff, sorry you don’t get a say in this. now let's finish setting things up, and i can help you make things look less terrible,” jisung says with a grin and a wink, and you glare at him in response.

***

it’s deep in the late hours of the night, or rather early in the morning, when you finally finish as much as you’re going to do tonight. there’s still a couple boxes of miscellaneous objects and such, but you shove them in your closet with the promise to deal with them another time. as you cleaned and decorated, you learned a lot about jisung, who trailed along after you rambling on about his life story with the occasional interruption of “maybe move that to the right just a tad” or “don’t you think this would look better on that shelf over there?”

you learn jisung is, in fact, the same age as you--or at least he was when he died. he and his family were killed in a car accident a couple years back, and he finds it more entertaining to lurk around the mortal world rather than mope around with other ghosts all the time. he mostly haunts his old house, although it’s been abandoned the last couple years, so he spends most of his time lounging around inside walls and clanging on pipes and spooking the occasional stray cat that decides to venture into the small home in search of food. today, however, he was so rudely awoken by the various sounds of you and minho carrying all your stuff up to your third-floor apartment in the building next door. he decided to take a peek (all the other residents of the building are “boring old people” in his terms) and thought you seemed interesting, so he stuck around. which brings you to where you are currently; you sprawled out on your bed, eyes closed in exhaustion, with jisung perched on the top of your desk chair asking you questions about your life.

“are you gonna get any pets?”

“minho is bringing over my pet toad tomorrow, he’s been babysitting her while i move.”

“okay that’s good, cats and dogs don’t seem to like me too much, but toads are fine. who’s minho?”

“the boy who helped me move in today,”

“oooh, is he your boyfriend?”

“what? no, no definitely not.”

“you’re blushing.”

“no i’m not! it’s just hot in here. can you open the window?”

“...i’m a ghost.”

“right. we’re just friends by the way, me and minho.”

“mhm….okay, whatever you say. but don’t think i didn’t see you checking him out when he picked up those boxes!”

“jisung?”

“yeah?”

“shut up.”

jisung opens his mouth as if to reply, but shuts it after thinking for a moment. the room is filled with a comfortable silence, and you find yourself giving in to the heavy blanket of sleep beginning to wash over you. it’s not long before you’re snoring lightly, passed out on top of your bed still in your clothes from the day. jisung chuckles to himself, wondering how he ended up with someone so dorky as a neighbour as he glides out through your window and through the night air back to his dark and empty house.

[ehstarwar]

a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves (3/8)

He would be just gentle enough that nothing hurt, but firm enough that she felt it. Every touch, every stroke; he would make her feel it all, make her delirious with it.

Yes, letting herself fantasize about Ben is all too easy.

-

Rey tries not to think about what's making her so frustrated and irritable. Ben knows exactly why. Also, Leia meddles.

-

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4K

Read on AO3

Notes: our space babies are back at it again with their BIE. (Big Idiot Energy). enjoy

 (´∀｀)

Chapter 3: this tiger-footed rage

-

It’s as easy as breathing, Rey thinks. Imagining him, large and imposing, all hard plains and thick muscle, nudged between her thighs. All around her. Consuming her. She imagine what his hands would feel like. Would the trace her, lightly and teasingly, or ding into her skin and mar her for all the world to see. And his legs; strong enough to hold her up, to carry her around without so much as a strain. 

He would be just gentle enough that nothing hurt, but firm enough that she felt it. Every touch, every stroke; he would make her feel it all, make her delirious with it. 

Yes, letting herself fantasize about Ben is all too easy. Made even easier by her fingers currently pushing into her sopping wet cunt. 

It should be embarrassing, how many times over the last few days that Rey has gotten off to imagining Ben. She’d had to stop herself from going into the employee bathroom and shoving a hand between her thighs the day he scented her; the smell of an omega that just came would outweigh the scent of an alpha and she’d be in an even worse situation. Rey had dutifully waited until after work, after the inspection, after she took two trains back home, before collapsing in a heap on her bed and getting herself off to Bens’ scent within two minutes.

And that was only the start of the evening. 

Rey had refused to shower that night, trying to keep a hold of every molecule of scent Ben had given her, but come morning, she had to wash herself. She totally didn’t cry in the shower, rubbing one out to the last remanence of Ben washing down her drain. The wetness coming down her face was only from the shower. 

She though that when his scent was no longer clinging to her person that she may finally get some relief from the near constant arousal, but it only made it worse. Now, the comforting scent of a big, virile alpha wasn’t consuming her, it made her desperate. 

Which is the state Rey was in right now; hand pushing in and out of her, wanting to find a release that is never quite satisfying enough. 

Twenty minutes of trying to get herself off before the evening was proving frustrating instead of relieving, causing Rey to scream into her pillow before removing her hand from her cunt and getting into the shower. She definitely did not sneak a smell at her overalls from the other day, just to see if there was anything left. 

Rose was hurrying around the apartment when Rey walked out of the bathroom, still unsatisfied and a little more than irritable. 

“What the hell, Rose?” Nearly every kitchen cabinet was opened, and a small pile of different kitchen items were being shoved into reusable plastic bags. 

“Finn wants to bake a pie for tonight, but like, has nothing that he needs if he wants to make a pie,” Rose explains, stuffing multiple pans that were decidedly unnecessary to make a pie. 

“Is he making a pie for a small third world county?” Rey huffs. Rose stills, a box of graham crackers falling to the counter below her.

“Are you feeling okay?” Rose asks, giving Rey a once-over.

“Yes… why?”

“You sounded a little upset that we’re making pie. Pie, Rey. You once said you’d give your left tit just to eat pie every day.”

Rey bristles, feeling much more defensive than a statement like this should make her.

“Its just… You’re taking quite a bit of stuff from our kitchen to make this. What if we don’t get it all back?” This only makes Roses’ gaze harden.

“It’s for Finn. We basically share everything with him. And I know for a fact that you two shared a toothbrush for four months in college because neither of you could be bothered to buy a new one. What’s going on?”

Rey is still wrapped up in a towel, dripping onto the linoleum floor. Her fist is clenched, holding her towel so tight to her person that she knows there will be red marks on her skin. She tries to figure out why she’s feeling this way, why she cares at all. Rey doesn’t get territorial like this, ever, especially with Finn. She’s just as curious as Rose is to figure out why she’s acting like this, but is too proud to concede. 

“Nothing is going on. I don’t care if you take that stuff to Finn’s, just… make sure we get it back. That’s the only strainer that I’ve ever liked and I just want to make sure its near if I need it. Rose has her eyes narrowed at Rey, and looks like she wants to prod further, but Rey doesn’t give her the opportunity.

“I’ll see you at Luke’s!” She shouts over her shoulder on her way back to her room.

-

The commute to Luke’s isn’t too bad. Rey has to take two trains and walk four blocks to get there, but his part of town isn’t too bad. Rey’s side is a different story, but that’s a worry for later tonight. Her irritability hasn’t completely worn off when she leaves her apartment, but she figures some fresh air will do her good. 

Or, it would be good if she could actually enjoy it. Problem is, she’s itchy. 

Not in the ‘I’m covered in poison ivy’ or ‘I have a bad case of the chicken pox’ way, but in the ‘my skin feels too tight and I’m ready to peel it off my body’ kind of way. It doesn’t help that her glands are throbbing. Any brush of material over them sends a shiver down her spine, but it’s too cold and impolite to go out in public naked with pulsing, red glands. 

It’s the suppressants working their way out of her system, probably. In her limited research on what to expect when detoxing, Rey discovered gland discomfort was fairly common, but it usually happened within a few days of stopping. It’d been a few weeks for her. But it was probably nothing.

Probably. 

All this discomfort was unpleasant, to say the least, but it was at least distracting Rey from the worrying-session she would be having about seeing Ben tonight. Rey had texted him when she’d gotten home the other night. A quick ‘hi i’m alive. thanks for today. see you around.’ before promptly blocking his number so that she wouldn’t be tempted to call him and ask him to fuck her nine ways to Sunday. 

Maybe it was too far, but Rey was still a little jaded from the experience and didn’t trust herself to fuck it up even further. Best to just forget the whole thing ever happened and move on with their respective lives and try very hard to think of literally anything else but Ben when she masturbates. Totally fine. 

It’s a good plan… well, it’s at least a plan. And one that seems to be totally fine and likely to work, until she opens the door to Luke’s townhouse. 

On their normal trivia night, it’s just her small group of friends playing trivia games being moderated by Luke who seems to know the answer to every question. Theres a few drinks, some snacks, and maybe a joint or two.

There is not the entirety of the Organa-Solo-Skywalker clan and a buffet table that looks like something out of a Thanksgiving issue of Better Homes & Garden. 

This will not be their normal trivia night, Rey realizes with a deep sigh.

“Oh Rey! You came! I’m so happy to see you!” Senator Organa grasps Rey in a bear hug before she can even make it entirely through the threshold. Rey is shocked, but leans into the hug once she realizes what’s happening. 

“Senator, it’s been so long.” The older woman tuts while pulling back, arms still holding onto Rey’s shoulder. 

“Oh please, Rey, what will it take for you to call me Leia instead of stuffy ‘Senator Organa’?” She asks. 

“It’s… what’s proper?” Rey raises her shoulders in a shrug.

“My wife? Proper? Ha!” Han shouts, over-exaggeratedly slapping his knee. “That’s a good one, kid.” Rey smiles sheepishly as the Senator slaps her husband’s chest. From the corner of her eye, she sees a seated figure, with perfect posture and even more perfect clothes.

“Grandma Padmé!” Rey says, before moving between them to hug her. Grandam Padmé opens her arms wide as Rey leans down to hug her. Even in old age, she feels strong beneath Rey’s body. It’s comforting in a way that Rey isn’t used to, but loves all the same. When she pulls back, Padmé cups her cheek with a thin hand. 

“My goodness, Rey, you look lovelier every time I see you,” She says, making Rey grin even harder. 

“Thank you. How is Naboo?” She asks.

“Well, I think it’s beautiful this time of year, but I think it’s beautiful there any time of year, really,” She laughs. “You’ll have to come visit me this winter. Maybe you can drag my wayward grandson along with you.” Padmé gestures her head to the corner, where Ben is standing.

When Rey sees him, leaning on the bookshelf, shoulders hunched like he’s trying to make himself smaller, she has the urge to run to him and shove her face into his broad chest. While Rey could never forget just how big Ben is, it’s still shocking every time she sees him.

“Rey doesn’t like the cold, Grandma.” God. His voice.  

Rey wants to say that she would literally follow Ben to the ends of the galaxy if he asked her to follow, so going to his grandmothers estate wouldn’t be an imposition whatsoever. But that’s not conducive to the situation they’re in, so Rey goes for something a little more vague. 

“I’d love to come and visit you, someday, hopefully,” Rey says, turning back to Padmé.

“Very soon, hopefully,” Rey doesn’t miss the glint in Padmé’s eyes, “Not many years left in these old bones.”

“Geez, Mom,” Luke says, walking to the living room from the kitchen, “Don’t talk like that. Hey, Rey, will you help me with the sink; it’s all leaky again.” Luke was a brilliant man, with many wonderful qualities, but his ability to break a house like it was a china plate was unprecedented. 

“Of course, do you have a wrench-” “She’s a guest here. She shouldn’t be put to work.” Bens’ voice is practically a growl and Rey can feel the displeasure radiating off of him. The rest of his family stays silent, all looking towards a glowering Ben. His glare is firmly set on Luke, and she thinks she might see literal fire coming out of his eyes.

“It’s really no problem, it’s an easy fix. Won’t take very long at all.” Rey tries to cut the tension, but Ben doesn’t seem eased by this. “It’s really no problem, Ben,” She says to him. Only then does he look at her, mouth still pressed in a thin line. 

“Why don’t you go get her the wrench, Ben. I think Luke’s got one in the cellar. We can look together.” Senator Organa is not at all who Rey thinks is going to step up to the plate, but she does it anyways. Ben mumbles a few terse ‘fines’ before following his mother down the hallway. 

Ben looks at Rey the whole way.

-

“How do you know where a wrench is in Luke’s house?” Ben asks his mother as they go down the stairs.

“I don’t,” She calls back. Ben stops at the bottom step, giving his mother a confused look.

“Then why did you-”

“I figured you’d need a minute. I mean, I’m mated and all that but geez, Rey’s scent was strong. I’m honestly surprised you’re even able to stand upright with that walking around. The betas can probably smell her from-“”

“Mom, can we please… not do this right now?” Ben pleads, letting his face drop into his hands. 

“That was a pretty big display of ‘alpha prowess’ you showed back there. I don’t think we can not do this and make it through the rest of the night.”

“You didn’t tell me what you’re doing here tonight. Maybe we should discuss that first.” Leia shrugs.

“Mom wanted to see you, and I know you all have trivia every other Wednesday, so I figured we’d drop by.”

“Uh-huh. And the catered meal that you managed to have delivered two whole hours before anyone showed up; that was easy to get on short notice?” They’re in a glaring match now, both too stubborn to back down.

“I work quickly, Ben. Clearly unlike you, who can’t even tell a girl how he feels after years. Do you honestly think this is healthy? For you? For your friendship? You can’t go all alpha on people every time they suggest your omega goes to a different room.”

“She’s not my omega.” Each word feels like ash coming from his mouth. 

“And who’s fault is that? Luke and his leaky sink?” For such a short woman, Leia is able to show a disturbing amount of confidence and control, something Ben has yet to master. It makes the words even harder to hear sometimes, like right now. Ben winces before running a hand through his already disheveled hair. 

“I’m working on it. It’s just… difficult.”

Leia softens at this, and seems to remember that she’s fighting her son and not another political enemy. She walks towards him, brushing the hair out of his eyes. 

“I know it is, honey. But I promise you, you’ll feel better once you tell her how you feel, no matter the outcome.” Leia’s voice is soft and gentle, and Ben is reminded of being a teenager and his mother comforting him when he was too scared to ask a girl to prom.

“I don’t know that that’s true,” he chuckles humorlessly.

-

By the time Ben and Leia rejoin the group upstairs, Rey has already fixed the sink with her bare hands (because of course she’s stronger than any measly tool) and is currently stuffing her face with pigs in a blanket. Ben wishes that he didn't find the pastry puff crumbs already lining her shirt so stinking cute. 

“I just don’t see how you can go from making a pie to making beanie weenies,” She says, mouth half full. When she realizes that Leia is in the room with her, she snaps her jaw just and brushes off the crumbs. “Do you want some?” Rey extends the plate towards them, even though Ben knows that she will be more than able to eat the whole thing herself.

“No, we’re good,” Ben says before Leia can speak and take one away from Rey. They lock eyes for a moment, and Ben gets caught up in the flecks of gold around her irises. It’s better that they’re around other people right now, because if they were alone Ben wouldn’t trust himself not to cross over to her and hold her face so he can get a better look at them. 

Leia elbows his stomach and mutters ‘get a grip.’

-

“What is Scotts?”

Buzzer.

“Poe.”

“What is Tudor?”

“Yes. Pick a category.”

“Ugh, 1990’s for 600.”

“A 1990-91 war in the Middle East was fought in Iraq and this oil-rich nation.”

“Iran?”

Luke gave a pointed stare at Rose.

“… What is Iran?”

Buzzer.

This had been much the same interaction for the last hour. Everyone participating, even Grandma Padmé. The questions were hard, which wasn’t wholly unusual for Luke, but it made Ben struggle that much more to actually pay attention. Ben easily dominated the board most trivia nights, but his heart wasn’t in it tonight.

No, tonight, Bens’ heart was in an entirely different place all together.

Said place was picking at her fingernails, not even bothering to pick up the handheld device. Rey was just behind him in winnings, but it seemed that even the second champion was struggling to keep up. 

Ben knew that he wasn’t being inconspicuous like this; staring at Rey so hard that he’s surprised his eyes still worked. His whole body was inclined towards her, not the center podium everyone else was facing. Ben could swivel around, actually use he device handed out earlier and answer the damn question everyone seemed to be avoiding, but he just didn’t have it in him. Not when Rey was there, barely six feet away from him, smelling like that. 

Like cinnamon rolls and clean linen and sunshine and sex and daisies and babies and home and-

Oh shit.

Heat. Ben realized. Rey was going into heat and she was sitting six feet away from him. In a house with many other people. People who would not appreciate a Sasquatch jumping across the living room couch to sweep Rey into his arms and take her to the guest room and fuck her very loudly for a whole week. 

This whole charade got that much harder to endure. 

Ben doesn’t realize he’s standing until he feels the gaze of everyone on him, looking confused as to his dramatic rise.

“I’m… going to the bathroom,” Ben announces to the group, before stalking off towards the kitchen. Ben made route to the furthers part of the townhouse, where Luke’s master bedroom was and very spacious master bath. Ben honestly didn’t care if he was waling into a room filled with creepy porcelain dolls, he just needed to get away for a minute and try not to think about Rey.

Rey. 

Who he had scented exactly 76 hours ago. 

Who he had jerked off to probably more times than that in the following days.

Who he was probably in love with.

Who he wanted to marry and mate and fill with his pups and build a house for and live happily ever after with. 

Rey, who was going into heat. 

Ben defiantly didn’t need to be thinking about that. 

He stood at the vanity, knuckles white against the marble countertop as he stared at himself. If it weren’t for his distinguishable ears, that stuck out despite his best attempts at covering them with his hair, Ben wouldn’t have recognized himself. 

His eyes were bloodshot. Skin flushed. Lips bitten so roughly the were swollen. In short, a mess.

A light tap on the door, brought him out of his self-deprecation as he dropped his head and sighed. 

“Ben?” He hears Rey ask. Ben resist the urge to punch the mirror or the countertop, knowing that it could only end with him being more battered. When he didn’t respond, Rey spoke again. “Can I come in.”

No, he should say. No, get as far away from me as humanly possible because there is no way I can control myself around you without restraints of some sort. 

After another minute of silence, Rey opens the door. Ben looks back up into the mirror, seeing Rey over his shoulder.

 “Are you alright?” She asks, voice quiet. It breaks his heart a little to hear her so timid. 

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Her voice is a little more sure this time. Ben quickly turns around to face Rey. It is a horrible time for him to be made acutely aware of just how small she is compared to him. But he is aware of it, all the same. 

When Ben opens his mouth to speak, he’s met with a thick cloud of pheromones entering his body. It’s like getting body slammed by a sumo wrestler without knowing what the fuck is going on.

“You’re not fine. Please, tell me what’s going on, Ben.” The whine he emits when she says his name is involuntary and embarrassing, but Ben can’t think about that right now.

“You’re going into heat.” He says it through clenched teeth, eyes clamped shut.

“What?” She asks in disbelief. “I’m not going into heat. I’d know if I was going into heat.”

“Rey,” Her name feels heavy in his mouth, “You are going into heat. You don’t know how you smell.” Ben dares to open his eyes to look at her. Reys’ face goes from confusion to sadness and it makes Ben ache. 

“Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how bad I smelled.”

Bens’ jaw drops.

“What?” She asks, seeing his expression.

“You think you smell bad?” Ben sees a flash of anger across her features.

“Well, I’m sorry for however awful I smell! I can’t tell, ya know. You could’ve been a little nicer about it, instead of running off because you couldn’t stand the smell of me!”

Ben is frozen in shock for a minute before Rey turns to leave, but snaps out of it when she reaches the door. 

“Rey.” She stills, hand on the doorknob. “You don’t smell bad. You very much do not smell bad. Rey, I’ve never met anyone who smelled as amazing as you. It’s like.. like the most delicious smell I’ve ever encountered. Like warmth and love and babies and home and… I can’t handle it well. You smell so fucking good, Rey. Letting you go that day was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life, and if you asked me to do that again, I honestly think I would loose my mind. If I can smell you and be as close to you as I was then without being able to keep you next to me, I wouldn’t survive. You don’t smell bad, Rey. You smell like everything I’ve ever loved.”

Her back is still turned to Ben, but she’s made no movement. Ben wants to spin her around and force her to say something, just so he can know what she’s thinking, but that turns out to be unnecessary. When she finally does turn around, there are tears just staring to spill over the corners of her eyes and her lips are quivering.

“You think I smell like home?” Her voice is shaky with emotion, and Ben can’t hold back anymore. Not when he sees his omega like this.

Ben closes the distance between them, enveloping Rey with his body. One hand goes to cradle the back of her head while the other snakes its way around her waist. He tucks his head into her neck, making him squat down. He feels Rey’s knees give out, and he guides her down to the floor, gently, resting between his legs. Her hands are tightly wrapped around his torso, holding not him just as he holds onto her.

“Yes, Rey. So good, it hurts,” he whispers into her ear. She holds onto his chest, quietly crying against him. His hindbrain is going awol trying to figure out how best to comfort her while his realistic brain was trying to figure out how far she would be okay with him going. He figures kisses to her hair won’t be a stretch, so he peppers kisses along her hairline, holding her head between his hands.

They stay like that for god knows how long, until his butt aches from he hard tile on the floor. Not that he would dare tell Rey that. He’s sit his bony ass on concrete for days if it meant being next to her. When the sniffling subsides and Rey uses his shirt to dry her eyes, she looks up at him.

Ben wishes he could map the constellation of freckles across her nose with his tongue. He barely refrains from doing so.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know what’s wrong with me. My emotions are all over the place.”

“It’s the heat,” Ben reminds her.

“How do you know, though? I didn’t even know, and normally I’m pretty good about guessing that kind of thing.”

“Have you ever had a heat while not on suppressants?” He asks her. Her silence is all the answer he needs. “That’s probably why.”

Her head drops agains his chest, groaning against the fabric coated in her snot. Ben rubs his hands along her back, trying to soothe her. When his hand gets a little too high and gently brushes against the edge of her gland, a tremor runs through her body. They both still at that.

“Ben,” He feels her say against his chest. When she looks up at him, her eyes are glassy but determined. He wants to tell her he loves her. “Lets get out of here.”

Ben can only manage to nod. 

-

come say hi on twitter!

[elsa-the-snowbitch]

And tell me some things last

AKA the fic in which I address Matteo’s depression as personally and I hope as gently as possible because I too am a Depressed GayTM (pansexual, but like semantics) 

And also there is David content because of course there is

for Mika, @detroitdavid because he is a real gem 

Sometimes Matteo can’t even tell when it begins. It just creeps up to him, slowly and makes life so much harder to balance like the books on his shelf that are just tethered there by sheer will.

But sometimes, like today, there is just a weight on top of him, a heavy blanket that muffles the world, drowns out all the noises, all the feelings. When he woke up, he already knew that something was different.

He has difficulties with getting out of bed most mornings but this morning, he has to force himself to open his eyes in order to look up at the ceiling. He can’t move, can’t speak and it is not even sadness that brings him down, it is the hollowness in his chest, the emptiness of his room. It is cluttered, clothes strewn around, beer bottles on the table and his nightstand but it is empty at the same time. A true reflection of how he feels.

His phone buzzes on the nightstand and as much as he wants to look, he cannot physically bring his body to move in any direction. It is as if he is stuck, trapped. He didn’t want to just cry like a child but there is nothing he can do about the pillow getting wet.

There is nothing he can do about the fact that he is late for school even if it is only spirit week. Jonas, Abdi and Carlos are waiting for him, he knows that. They wanted to come as a team, as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. But today they will have to make do without Michelangelo. He just can’t. Sara is waiting for him as well and he is not willing to pretend for another day but she was so sad when he rejected her.

Why can’t you tell her? Are you scared?

And yes, he is scared. Terrified of all of his masks crumbling to dust once they know. Panicking at the prospect of his parents knowing. Jonas finding out what he did. Not being able to hang out with the boys anymore because they might be disgusted by him.

Not knowing what David might think of him.

His phone buzzes again and this time it stubbornly carries on buzzing. A call.

It takes such an effort to move his hand, it is as if he is navigating through fog but then finally he is able to pick up his phone.

Jonas. Of course.

“Hey, bro. Abdi, Carlos and I are here in front of the school, man, where are you?” he asks and Matteo swallows. It takes several tries to speak and when he does, his voice is raspy, as if he hasn’t used it in years.

“It’s not good today, dude,” he manages and swallows again. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth and he is forcing himself to hold his phone. He cannot force himself to smile or sound positive though and Jonas notices, of course he does. He is his best friend. And he went through a phase like this himself, after Hanna and him broke up.

Your fucking fault, Matteo a voice whispers in the back of his mind but Jonas interrupts it. “I’ll tell the teachers that you aren’t feeling well, okay? We shouldn’t even have classes anyway but hey, the system doesn’t care. Do you want me to come over?”

Matteo is so grateful that he could cry but there is nothing but numbness right now, so he shakes his head, belatedly realising that Jonas can’t see him so he whispers a “No. And can you tell Amira? I just…”

“Sure. No problem. I am busy later but I can ask my study partner in maths to bring you your stuff, okay? He is pretty cool, let me even copy his homework once,” Jonas says and he sounds cheerful. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t just give out your address out to anyone.”

Matteo just hums his acknowledgement and closes his eyes again as Jonas ends the call. Blessed, cursed silence. Faintly he can hear music and laughter down the hall, Mia seems to have a visitor. At least one of them is happy and he envies her for a moment.

The hours seem to stagnate and rush all at once, he hears voices in the kitchen, one moment in all of those hours Hans sticks his head into Matteo’s room to bring him piece of bread with cheese and a glass of tea. He doesn’t say anything, he just carefully kisses Matteo’s forehead as he leaves and again, there are tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. It is such a simple sign of affection and still, it hits Matteo harder than he wanted it to.

The bread and the tea almost taste of nothing but he manages to eat and drink.

Something is better than nothing.

And then the doorbell rings. There is a voice.

“Jonas asked me to bring over Matteo’s stuff for him, so… uh… hi.”

Fuck. It’s David.

David is Jonas bench partner in maths. Why was Matteo never privy to this piece of information?! And why is he here? He shouldn’t see Matteo like this.

“Matteo, my little butterfly, you have a visitor!” Hans calls out and he sighs, rolling over to face the door of his room (his own room. He has his own room). It truly is a mess.

A knock. It is soft and careful, so different from what he has gotten to know David. “Can I come in? Or are you contagious? Jonas told me that you aren’t doing well. I can also just put your stuff in front of your door and… leave.”

Is it just Matteo’s imagination or did David hesitate on that last word?

It is your eyelash. You should know what to wish for.

“No… I… come in. Please.” Matteo’s voice wavers on the last word and he flops back into the pillows, looking up at the pattern of the ceiling as the door opens and David steps in. He waits for a comment, for a derisive scoff, for the door to immediately close again but then the mattress dips and his heart lurches, picks up again in double time. Shit, he is right here. On his bed. Sitting so close that they almost touch but far away enough that Matteo’s heart isn’t in full escalation mode. But he wants. He wants to touch so badly.

For a couple of moments neither of them say anything but then David moves, fumbles in his black backpack (of course it is black) and Matteo just observes him, the line of his neck, the way his black hair curls, his skin that looks as if it would be soft underneath Matteo’s fingertips. Stop. Stop right there.

David makes a triumphant little sound and holds up a headphone splitter and two pairs of headphones, a smile on his face and now there is something underneath all the numbness, the smallest tendril of curiosity, the smallest hint of fondness.

Is he really doing this? Listening to music with someone he is utterly drawn to?

Is he really this stupid?

To answer all of those questions: yes.

“Can I…?” David indicates and there is a brief moment of awkward shuffling until they are both situated on Matteo’s bed, their legs almost touching and this time it is not Sara sitting opposite him, it is David sitting right next to him, here on his bed, holy fuck.

But it’s not Spotify or iTunes or any other music app David opens. Instead he indicates towards Matteo’s laptop that is teetering dangerously close to sliding off the bed, hanging on by force of gravity and dumb luck alone. Much like Matteo is sometimes.

And it is incredibly private to just hand over a laptop, who knows what might be hidden there. Maybe his google search which would really just add to the awkwardness of the situation. But he does. He hands over the thing he spends most of his afternoon on and lets David type away, searching for whatever it is he wants to watch with Matteo.

“No peeking, this is supposed to be surprise,” David gently chides him as Matteo tries to catch a glimpse of the computer screen, a small smile playing on his face and it takes everything Matteo has in him not to stare so blatantly. They are so close that he would be able to count each one of his almost ridiculously long eyelashes. The emptiness is not as noticeable anymore and how can it when the guy he spent nights (and days) thinking of is right here next to him?

“There we go. Found it. It’s live,” David says and hands one pair of headphones over to Matteo. Their fingers brush and his skin begins to tingle, he begins to notice that he has a body, that he isn’t just existing but that he is alive. 

Of course he knows that feelings aren’t the all-heal cure for him, that feelings can be too much in some moments, can drag him down to the bottom where he is currently floating aimlessly while listening to something called Motown with David but they can sit with each other in silence and Matteo doesn’t feel like he has to do anything but be.

“Does this happen often?” David finally asks, his voice careful, as if he is scared to shatter the bubble that has built around them, the comfort. “That you are like this?”

Matteo wants to shrug because that is basically his default mode but he thinks twice. David deserves better than a noncommittal shrug. “Yeah, I…” (be stupid, deflect, make a joke out of it, I am so tired of making it a joke). “It’s the depression,” he finally answers and can feel the corners of his lips struggling to tick up into a smile. Doesn’t work that well. “My dad divorced himself from the situation, my mum is… (crazy, off her rocker, psycho) not doing well and I just. I had to leave. I couldn’t live as a caretaker of my mum when she is supposed to be the adult. I am so tired of feeling lonely and rejected and out of the loop, I…”

He trails off with a sigh, closing his eyes, feeling wrung out and empty, sorry for himself and for David, that he has to witness him being a massively whiny bitch. “Sorry,” he finally says and feels a gentle tug at his sleeve (at his heartstrings) and David looks at him with so much understanding that it almost hurts.

“Hey, no, don’t worry. I get it. You can leave all your word vomit with me, I am good at keeping secrets. The last time someone spilled any secret was the time I had to kill them and move states,” David calms him and there is something in his eyes that speaks of more than just a simple joke. “Let’s just listen to music and not think of anything. Not that that is hard for you.”

A surprised laugh bubbles out of Matteo and shoves David gently.

Outside, the clouds disperse slowly and a ray of sunshine carefully creeps its way into the room where two boys are sitting on a bed, sides pressed together like two magnets, listening to music, occasionally smiling at each other.

And it feels easier than anything Matteo has ever done.

[bxcketbarnes]

Here’s to the New Year

Pairing: Ashton Irwin/Reader

Words: 1872

Author’s Note: So, I finally finished this. This was supposed to be posted in January and it’s now March. I hope you all like it. It’s very cute. xoxo

“I honestly don’t have a god damn clue what to wear,” I mumble while shuffling through my closet, hearing Hannah adjusting on my bed. I let out a huff of breath, turning to face her as she taps a finger against her chin. “Plus, I have no idea who this Brian guy is and why I’m going to this party.”

Han stands up and steps towards my closet, taking a look at what I have herself as I plop onto the bed. “You’re going because I invited you plus your boyfriends gonna be there and Cal told me he’s gettin’ fancy. So, we need to find something that will relatively match his,” she mentions and my face heats up at the word boyfriend.

“Okay, one, he’s not my boyfriend. We’re literally just friends. Two, I don’t know why Ashton and I need to match?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest while tilting my head to the side.

“You guys may not be dating, but y’all act like it. You two flirt constantly but yet both of you are oblivious to the other’s feelings,” my blue-haired friend tells me and I roll my eyes, refusing to believe her.

I get up from the bed, heading back towards the closet. “I did buy a new shirt the other day I’ve been dying to break in,” I mutter quietly while reaching around her, pulling out the black blouse. I present it to Han and she nods curtly before her eyes widen a bit. I watch with curious eyes as she pushes a bunch of clothes to the side before grabbing the black sequin mini skirt I had. “That would go perfectly with the over the knee heels I have.”

“Great! Get dressed!” She grins before leaving the room. I let out a small laugh as her impatience comes out, setting the clothes onto the mattress. After I get dressed I head towards the mirror, checking myself out in the reflective surface. This blouse sure does leave little to the imagination. I think to myself as I re-adjust the front of it, my cleavage prominently showing.

I slip on my heeled boots, zipping them up before doing my makeup, keeping it minimal but sparkly as fuck. I look over myself once more, running my hands over my skirt before leaving my room. “Alright, Han, I’m done. Is Cal here yet?” I ask while walking into the living room area, seeing the two cuddled up on the couch.

“I am, yes,” Calum laughs, his face kind of buried into Hannah’s blue hair, a content smile on her lips. His brown eyes glance over to me and widen at the sight. “Damn, Y/N. If I’m not mistaken, I’d say you’re trying to impress a certain friend of ours?”

“Shut up. I am not,” I blatantly lie and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, beginning to make my way towards the front door. “Are we going now or what?”

Hannah and Calum nod their heads, giving each other a knowing look as I head out the door, getting into the bassist’s vehicle. The couple gets into the front seats, their hands intertwining together as he starts the car, beginning to drive towards Brian’s place.

Here we go…

-

I walk into the house behind Hannah and Calum, smiling softly as their arms were wrapped around each other. Cheers and hollers sound out as we step in and I can't help but shy away from the attention.

“It's good to see you again, Y/N!” Luke grins and brings me into a hug. I smile at the tall blonde and return his hug, my hand landing on the middle of his back. I give his girlfriend a small smile as my eyes scan for the newly red-haired man. “Ash's in the kitchen,” Luke smirks and my cheeks flush a bit before heading that way.

I step into the beautiful kitchen, grabbing a red solo cup off of the counter before mixing up a drink. A pair of hands land on my waist while a chin comes in contact with my shoulder. I jump slightly, glancing to the left to see Ashton’s face in the corner of my eye.

“Hey. I didn’t know you were coming,” he mumbles as I lift the cup to my lips before taking a couple of sips.

“Yeah. Hannah basically demanded that I come,” I giggle and turn around in his arms, his hands still on my waist.

His hazel eyes roam down my body and I couldn't help but blush, knowing if I make any quick movements… my breasts will literally be exposed. “Y-You look fantastic,” Ash stutters and I smile shyly.

“Thanks. You're looking pretty dapper,” I comment while grazing my fingertips over the black blazer. A smile comes to his pink lips and looks down at my hands that were currently placed on his chest.

Ashton bites his lip a bit after I pull my hands away, grabbing my drink from the counter before walking slowly towards Hannah and Cal, glancing over my shoulder at him while walking away.

“Getting a bit flirty, are we?” She smirks and I roll my eyes but feel my cheeks heat up. I mumble a quiet shut up before taking a big gulp of my drink. “It's the New Year. Take a chance, okay? Kiss him at midnight.”

“I'll think about it,” I mumble while fiddling with the rim of my cup, taking a quick glance to see Ash talking to Brian who was the host of this party. I take another drink from my cup, the quick glance at Ashton lasting longer than I anticipated. Fuck he looks so handsome. His hazel eyes move to meet mine and I can feel my cheeks warming up as I give him a smile.

Cal and Hannah went dancing with everyone else, leaving me by myself as I watch Ashton excuse himself from Brian. He makes his way towards me and I can’t help but let my eyes roam down his body. “Do you wanna dance with me?” He asks me and I let out a giggle before nodding my head.

Ashton holds out a hand for me to take and I quickly finish the rest of my drink, setting it onto the table beside me. I grab his hands, intertwining our fingers as he leads me into the middle of the living room. An old school party song was playing loudly through the speakers and I move my hips side to side, a large grin on my lips as Ash’s hands rest on my hips. His forehead rests against mine as our bodies get pressed against one another’s.

My hands glide up his torso before wrapping around his neck, eyes fluttering shut as my heart pounds against my ribcage. This has to mean something… right? My fingers dig into his red hair, gripping it softly as our hips move together. Time felt like it stopped, the people around us fading out as Ash’s hands slowly slide up my back, his breath fanning my face.

I look up at him through my lashes, feeling my breath hitch in my throat as his eyes were already on me. Butterflies were flying around my stomach, making me a little nauseous and I pull away from him. “You okay?” He asks, concern laced in his voice and I nod my head in answer.

“I just need some air. Be right back,” I lean up to whisper-yell into his ear before completely pulling away. I give him a small smile as I take a couple of steps away from him and his hand slowly leaves mine, dropping onto his thighs. I make my way towards the back door, slipping outside to feel the cool air hit my face.

A deep breath leaves my lips as I lay my hands onto the porch railing, dipping my head down as I try to calm the various thoughts running in my mind. I pick my head back up and push some of the hair from my face, looking out into the city of Los Angeles. “Jesus,” I mutter to myself, placing a hand over my heart to feel it still beating erratically.

The back door opens and I glance over my shoulder to see Ashton standing there, shoving his hands into his pocket after he closes the door. “How are you feeling?” He asks cautiously and I let out a breath before leaning my back against the railing.

“Better. I… I just felt a little nauseous, but I’m okay,” I reassure him with a smile. Ash nods his head, stepping closer to me. I look over his shoulder to see Brian popping some champagne and everyone cheers. “What time is it?”

He pulls his phone out of his pocket, checking it quickly before shoving it back in its place. “11:59. Do you wanna go inside?” He asks while pointing his thumb towards the door.

I shake my head, looking back towards the view of the city. “Nah. I think I wanna stay right here. It’s a beautiful way to start the new year. You wanna join me?” I question, hoping that he will. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and Ashton lets out a chuckle before nodding his head.

“That does sound great, and there’s no one I’d rather spend my new year with,” he comments and my heart flutters at his words.

“Same,” I grin and he takes another step closer, his hand gently sliding up my arm. Everyone inside began to shout the countdown and I can hear Hannah’s voice in my head reminding me to kiss Ashton at midnight. You know what? Fuck it. I lay a hand on the back of Ash’s neck, pulling his face closer to mine as Happy New Year could be heard from the guests inside. Our lips collide with each other’s as the clocks hit midnight, Ashton’s hands moving to my waist.

The hand on the back of his neck moves to his cheek, stroking his skin lightly before pulling away from him. I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on my lips, opening my eyes to see his still closed. His lips were parted slightly and I press my lips together while resting my hand on his shoulder.

“Did that actually just happen?” He asks and I giggle softly.

“It did, yeah,” I tell him and Ashton opens his eyes, looking down at me.

His hands move to my cheeks before dipping his head back down, pressing his lips to mine again. I grip his blazer, returning the kiss as I lean on my toes a bit. The kiss only lasts for a few seconds before he pulls away, ragged breaths leaving his lips.

“2019 is already starting off to be a great year,” he breathes and I blush a bit, agreeing with him. “I-Uh-Do you wanna come home with me?”

My eyes widen and a smirk comes to my lips. “Shouldn't you take me to dinner before asking me to come home with you, Irwin?”

Ashton chuckles, licking his lips a bit before glancing to the floor. “How about breakfast instead?” He smirks and I smile.

“Sounds perfect.”

-

Taglist: @asht0ns-world @thebookamongmen @dukesnumber1 @twilightparker @singt0mecalum @gotta-try-something-new @lukeskisses @maddz-world @ashs-cheergirl @therainydays4 @thatcheekychic @calumsendgame @shower-me-with-roses @dashlilymark

[phoenixsavant]

Jumin’s Route: Day 1

Picking up after the prologue.

               Jumin scoffed to himself as he prepared for bed.  Zen had made a proper fool of himself. Yoosung could be somewhat excused, given his age and lack of life experience.  Zen should have known better than to throw himself at the newcomer though. For all that went, Seven wasn’t exactly reserved either.  

               “I wonder if I should speak to them, Elizabeth,” he murmured to the sleek, white body at the foot of his bed.  He sat beside her.  “This is all very strange and possibly dangerous.  They should exercise a little caution.”

               “Mrow?”

               “Hmm, you’re right.  We won’t find out anything by being too distant. There should be a balance, as in all things.  Still, don’t you agree this is highly unusual?  What could it mean that she is in Rika’s apartment, and how do we determine if she’s a friend or a threat?”

               Elizabeth purred, stretched, and closed her eyes.

               “Yes, rest first, and then we shall have answers. You’re quite right.”  He reached to turn out his light but was stopped by the sudden ringing of his phone.  He picked it up, expecting Assistant Kang, and was surprised to see MC’s name on the display instead.  

               Surprised, but curious, he answered the call. “Jumin Han speaking.”

               “This is MC.”

               “My phone has caller ID.  But I like the fact that you identified yourself.  So, to what do I owe this call?”  His own words of caution echoed through his thoughts. He must be careful not to betray any information to this stranger while drawing out whatever he could about her.

               When she said she was just wondering what he was doing, he felt vaguely annoyed.  Who called someone they did not know, had not properly met, after midnight?  He spoke calmly, but clearly, putting her in her place and ensuring that she would understand that he was not someone who would take such calls in the future.

               She apologized almost instantly, and he felt bad for basically having scolded another adult. “I should say something positive to her,” he thought.  “I admire your courage,” was the best he could find to say about the bold stranger on the phone.  Yet, habit was a stronger force than even Jumin Han, and he reverted immediately to reminding her not to call unless there was an emergency.

               “That is not how to give feedback.  I just did it in reverse.  I must resolve this,” his thoughts demanded of him.  He added on, “Oh, however, I hope you are not foolish enough to not call me during an emergency just because I said this.”  

“Have I become the robot they accuse me of being?” he wondered.  

Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try to be a little more friendly.  If MC had been duped into entering Rika’s apartment, she might be feeling frightened right now.  Perhaps she had called just to hear another voice, and why wouldn’t she call him before the others?  With compassion now guiding him, Jumin quickly made up something to say.  “I was thinking about what to do with this wallpaper,” he explained.  “Striped wallpapers are better…”  He explained how stripes can be better at calming people when they are uneasy, hoping that it might give MC an idea for easing her nerves.  Considering that the walls at Rika’s apartment might not have stripes, he offered to have the wallpaper changed for her.  

“Yes, I think that will do for now.  If MC follows my suggestion, she’ll find something with stripes to look at so that she can feel calmer,” he smiled to himself, glad to have had something worthwhile to offer.  “Don’t stay up too late,” he said gently.  “Now good night.”  

The call ended, he placed the phone back on his nightstand and turned out the light.  “Come to bed, Elizabeth,” he called to the dark room.  

The softness of Elizabeth’s hair brushed against his arm before she leaned against him, laying as she did every night.  She purred softly again, a sound that always ensured sleep would come quickly for him.  Tonight, however, his mind replayed a sound he’d heard, a clear note in the cacophony of his life.

“I am MC.”

 Morning

               Jumin readied himself for work, following his usual routine.  Each step served the purpose of preparing him physically and mentally for the long hours he would work.  He enjoyed routine, thrived on it even, finding an almost spiritual peace in the series of small rituals.

               This morning, though, the routine was disrupted by thoughts of MC’s sudden appearance and the surprise phone call late at night.  He showered and wondered if she’d rested well in the strange surroundings at Rika’s apartment.  He ate breakfast and wondered if she had anything to eat.  He dressed and wondered whether he should check on her.

               While feeding Elizabeth, he took out his phone and opened the app.  Zen was already in the chat, and it seemed that MC had been through a few times.  It seemed Yoosung had spoken before playing LOLOL again, and Assistant Kang had made sure to impart some words of wisdom regarding the role of part coordinator.  Zen had, of course, flirted with her, taking the opportunity to see how much MC thought of him and complaining about not having a girlfriend.  Yoosung had then complained about the same.

               “With those two around, she’s going to take off and we’ll never solve the mystery,” he said to Elizabeth.  He shook his head at their desperation.  “I can’t imagine what MC must be thinking of all of us after their performances.”

               Suddenly, the phone flickered, drawing his eyes back to the chat.  MC had arrived.  

               “Jumin, don’t you have to go to work?” MC asked.

               “Hmm, she is perhaps more aware of the realities of life than I imagined her to be,” he considered.  “I was about to,” he typed.

               Zen annoyed him, though, and so he resorted to the one thing he knew would make the actor complain.  He posted a picture of Elizabeth.

               MC’s immediate reaction, “Wow! So pretty!” brought a smile to Jumin’s face.  Of course Elizabeth was pretty.  It was nice to see someone else – someone other than Seven – admit it.  

               Zen, however, was not about to allow Jumin to speak of Elizabeth without interrupting.  When he read Zen’s words about how Jumin treated his employees, he responded by trying to explain that when there’s a business relationship, you don’t expect affection in it.  It’s business and nothing more.

               “Isn’t it natural to just work as much as you get paid?” MC asked.

               “Oh, good for her!  So few people truly grasp this simple concept!”

               “That is correct,” he replied.

               “Elizabeth, dearest, I do think that Zen says some of these things just to have something negative to say about me,” he commented. With a smirk he typed back, “They should be honored to be my slaves.  They are probably tears of joy.”  

               Jumin coughed in surprise at MC’s response.  

               “I’m pretty sure it’s tears of joy +_+”

               “Oh, this could be quite entertaining, Elizabeth. It seems MC understands my sense of humor!”  He chuckled audibly as he responded, pressing the joke forward, just to see what she would do.

               Zen made it impossible for the playfulness to carry forward and Jumin left the chat, still smiling.  MC found Elizabeth attractive – which meant she could see clearly. But she’d joined in on his joke and encouraged it.  Had that been deliberate?  He would have to find out.

               Looking at the clock, he realized his driver was late. With a sigh, he called and found out there had been an accident.  Driver Kim was nearby, but unable to get through.  Well, such things do happen at times.

               With nothing else to do, he sent a message to MC, attempting to complete his original goal and check on her well-being.

               “Did you have breakfast yet?” he asked.

               Her response did not answer the question but instead commented on how well he took care of himself.  Finding it odd, he answered, “Isn’t it expected?”

               Seeing that she was in the chat room again, he returned there.  He sighed as if someone had just spilled paint on his floors.  Seven was in the chat.

               Seven was not perhaps Jumin’s favorite person. He was a menace where Elizabeth’s safety was concerned.  At least he could speak freely about Elizabeth, and cats in general, when Seven was present.  When MC again expressed appreciation for Elizabeth’s beauty, Jumin smiled.  

               Somehow the conversation switched to Seven’s work. It seemed to Jumin that MC became quieter, as if avoiding interacting with Seven. He tried to suggest that she could trust Seven, but when the hacker started talking about returning to Jumin’s home, he couldn’t help but deliver strict warnings.  He liked the young man, but he didn’t trust him not to make trouble. “Not that I think this way without reason.”  He wondered if MC would take his advice, or if he should deliver a stronger warning.

               Before he could decide, a knock at the door alerted him to the arrival of Driver Kim.  Bidding farewell to MC, Jumin once more left the chat and turned to face the day, for which he was now late.  As soon as he was in the car though, he found himself sending another message to MC. This time, she agreed even privately that cats were the best animals.  She must mean it, and no one who appreciated cats could be bad.

               “I’m glad to meet a friend,” he replied sincerely, deciding that whatever else was happening, MC was now a friend, at the least a fellow lover of feline grace and beauty.

Midday

               His day at the office dragged more than usual. As his lunch hour arrived, he checked the chat.  He’d been thinking about MC all morning, dissatisfied that they’d had to break off their conversation.  It was so rare to find someone who truly appreciated cats, and the prospect of finally knowing someone else who felt as he did was exhilarating.

               Opening the RFA chat again, Jumin scanned over the logs.  Yoosung had complained about V again. He frowned.  “I must find a way to get him over this fixation,” he murmured to his empty office.  

He saw that Jaehee had also spoken to MC about the party.  It was commendable that his assistant showed interest in assuring MC had a clear concept of what to do for the party, even if she should have been working on the reports for his meeting tomorrow morning. Still, it was good to see that MC seemed to be taking her new position seriously.  He appreciated people who could handle tasks with competence.

               “Hello, Jumin.” MC’s message chimed brightly, and Jumin’s lips tugged into a thoughtful smile.  This would make his quiet meal alone much nicer, having her to talk to.  He returned the greeting and congratulated her again on joining

               “It’s easy to enter, but leaving won’t be so easy.”  Jumin frowned at himself as soon as he sent the message.  “That will sound threatening.  Why did I say that to her?”  

               Thankfully she didn’t seem to take it as a threat, only asking him why.  He tried to think quickly, but only managed to add that MC was in Rika’s apartment with all the confidential information around.  With a groan, Jumin changed his approach.  Why was he so clumsy when speaking to this person?  Was it just because she was new?

               “I hope that you’ll take on the task and continue her work without any trouble,” he concluded.

               “Don’t worry.  I’ll do a good job,” she replied.

“Confidence in her abilities,” he mused.  “I hope she’s not over-confident.”  His fingers froze as he sent a message without thinking.  “If you do a good job…” Blinking at the screen on his phone, Jumin realized that he’d been about to type in something about meeting her. He backed out the message and added, “We’ll get to host parties again. Don’t you want to make memories you’ll never forget?”  

“I’d like to do it with you, Jumin.”

His fork froze halfway to his mouth.  His eyes widened and he sucked in air suddenly.  “No, that can’t be what she means. She hasn’t even met me.  She must have misspoken.”  He calmed his suddenly racing heartbeat before replying, thankful for the protective veil of the chat room where no one could see any response but the one he crafted.  

A glance at the clock on his desk revealed that his lunch hour was rapidly drawing to a close.  If he were to finish his meal properly, he would need to put the phone down.  His nutritionist had cautioned him many times that he needed to allow himself the eat his meals without work or other distractions so that his body could process the food at maximum capacity.  

It didn’t seem right to simply bow out though, so he explained quickly that he would be too busy to be in the chat much, but Jaehee was able to help in his absence.  Placing the phone with the screen down, he took up his fork again.

…with you, Jumin

The words rolled through his mind like a stray breeze, stirring places within the mind of Jumin Han that had been disused for so long, they seemed overgrown with cobwebs.  He didn’t taste the rest of his meal and drank far more water than usual. For some reason, his throat kept feeling very tight.  

Evening

Had there ever been a longer day?  Despite leaving for the office late, and closing the door behind him as he turned for home at a reasonable hour, the day had crawled by.  As Driver Kim pulled the car into traffic, Jumin tugged his tie loose with a heavy sigh.

“There’s been an accident, sir.  I apologize, but we’ll be a bit delayed getting you home tonight.”  

“These things happen,” Jumin answered.  “Please keep me posted if there is any additional delay.”

Driver Kim nodded and slid the glass partition closed.

Alone in the silence of his car, Jumin found his phone and checked over the notifications.  On impulse, he opened the RFA app and called MC.  He hadn’t spoken to her since lunch and wasn’t up to the chat room, but he wanted to check on her all the same.  

He greeted her politely and offered to take a single question from her, expecting her to have at least one to ask about the RFA or the party.  

“How does my voice sound?” MC asked.

Jumin paused, startled at the unexpected query.  He smiled, amused at the idea of being asked to review the voice of a stranger.  “… Speak again, slowly,” he instructed.

“Ju-min Han,” MC said, slowly, her voice soft as it drew goosebumps across his arms.

He fought back a cough as he replied.  “I didn’t expect you to say my name.  You’re quite bold for a newcomer.  That was a bit of a surprise.”  Words tumbled from his lips into the phone as he pulled the first two buttons of his shirt loose.  It was terribly stuffy in the car today.  Had Driver Kim neglected to turn on the air?  

Jumin reigned in his rambling about meetings to add in the answer to the question he’d been asked, expressing that MC’s voice was as nice as Elizabeth’s.  He shook his head at himself.  What an odd thing to say.  It was true, but even so…

“What are you doing?” MC asked.

This was another unexpected moment from the new RFA member.  Jumin wasn’t used to people continuing to ask questions after he’d stated that he would only take one.  Taken aback he agreed to answer the second question, but cautioned that he would not allow such liberties again.

Having mentioned that MC’s voice was as nice as Elizabeth’s, Jumin found himself missing his furry companion and expressed that he was anxious to get home to see her.

“You talk as if your cat is a person,” MC remarked.

“Of course.  Who else do you think I’d treasure so much other than her?” he asked while noting that MC’s voice held no trace of judgement against him for caring so much about Elizabeth.  With that consideration, he offered to continue the conversation.

MC asked how old he was, if he was the oldest in the RFA, both simple questions he answered easily.  Her voice was more than good, it was quite entrancing if he were to be honest.  It wouldn’t do to tell her so, not yet, but he found himself relaxing as they spoke.

Before he knew it, Driver Kim stopped the car and a glance out the window showed that he’d arrived home.  As he began to end the call, MC stated that she wished they could continue speaking, and he found himself feeling similarly.  “I’ll call you when I have time,” he promised, hanging up his phone as Driver Kim opened the door.  

“I am home, Elizabeth,” he called, slipping his shoes off.  He felt an unusually pleased smile at the sound of his cat’s voice, calling to him before she appeared from the bedroom.  “Hello, my dear.  Have you had a good day?”

“Mrow,” she answered, butting her head against his extended palm.  

“I have heard a voice that is almost as nice as yours today,” he informed her.  “Yours is still better, I can assure you with confidence, but it has surprised me.”  With a scratch behind the ears, he rose.  “Let’s get your brush, little one.”  

This was one of the best parts of the day for Jumin.  Drawing the brush through Elizabeth’s soft hair, exactly ten strokes on every side to ensure a healthy coat and skin, soothed even the deepest stresses away.  She purred gently beneath his touch.  It was as if her contentment spread through him, and he welcomed it.  

With Elizabeth brushed, Jumin turned to his dinner.  He chuckled when Elizabeth followed his evening grooming by jumping into the chair nearest him and bathing herself thoroughly.  “I never do it quite so well as you, is that it?” he asked in amusement.  

Evening settled softly over the city, turning the skies to a rainbow of gold and lavender.  Jumin opened his phone and saw new emails waiting for responses from the office. With a groan, he skipped past the notifications and opened the RFA chat.  As he hoped, MC was there.  So was Zen, and Jumin rolled his eyes.  

“Do you even know what sentimental means?” he asked.  The following emoji made clear that the actor didn’t truly know the meaning of the word, as Jumin suspected.  

“I should probably feel bad about this,” he commented to Elizabeth as she settled her back against his thigh.  “But honestly, Zen just responds so easily to everything.  I can’t seem to resist the urge.”

“It’s because of MC,” Jumin sent. Then he added, “Usually Zen is busy annoying me.”

With a smirk, he saw Zen begin to react.  It was just too easy to tease him.  

“Is it good that I’m here with you guys?” MC asked.

“Time will tell the net profit,” Jumin answered, calmly calculating his words to prod Zen further.

“If MC can’t handle Rika’s work very well, then she’s good for nothing.  Just like Zen.”  

He expected, having spoken to her and trusting his ability to read people, MC would know he didn’t think poorly of her.  Whether she’d understand he was only tormenting Zen or not, he was unsure, but he didn’t want her to think he had a bad opinion of her.  

“I first intend to try my best,” MC assured the two men.

“I wonder if MC will do well…?” Jumin mused.  He hoped she would.  That would mean having the parties to add a sense of meaning beyond C&R to his life, and a chance to meet her in person.  He wondered if she was as easy to look at as her voice had been to listen to.

“If I try my best, then everything will be good.”

“I like the answer.”  Jumin smiled warmly at her determined and confident response.  

Zen announced he had to go and meet with his director and Jumin noticed that Elizabeth had begun to give him signals that she was ready for her dinner.

“I should go and provide Elizabeth her meal,” he explained.

“Tell your cat hello, Jumin.”

MC’s words made him blink in mild confusion.  She hadn’t met Elizabeth, so would it do any good to pass the greeting along?  He glanced down at the sleek, white body beside him.

“Hmm.  I’m not making any promises, but I’ll try.”

Jumin stretched as he stood, calling Elizabeth to her dinner.  He lowered her bowl to the feeding mat and paused. “I know you haven’t met her, but MC has asked that I tell you hello.  I feel you’ll meet her someday though, so perhaps you’d like to know that she’s already considerate in regard to you.”  

Elizabeth sniffed delicately at her food and looked up as Jumin spoke.  “Mau,” she remarked calmly before beginning to eat.

“Hmm, you’re… you’re welcome.  I wasn’t sure if you’d appreciate being greeted so by a stranger.  I’m happy it pleases you.”  

No sooner had Jumin cleared away Elizabeth’s dish than his phone rang.  MC was calling him?  He smiled and answered the call, being free at the moment.  He was unprepared for MC to ask whether he’d had dinner or not.  It was not often that anyone thought to ask him about his meals. Still, as she had taken time to call and ask, it was probably best that he make a suggestion for her own meal. With a glance at the freshly washed dish, he recommended salmon, because Elizabeth enjoyed it so much.  

“If your palate is just as sophisticated, I’m sure you and I will make fine meal partners,” he commented.  “Why did I say that?  She’ll think I’m asking her to dinner!”

Seeking an escape, he explained that this was his personal break time and that he didn’t usually take calls at this hour.  He ended the call, shaking his head at himself.  He’d been polite enough with her, but again he’d offered more than he intended.  “I shall merely have to be more aware when speaking to her.  My place is only to watch over her and ensure she has what she needs to manage the invitation process for a party, should V decide we will have one.”  

His mind wandered back to the point he’d made in the chat, that if there was no party, there would be no reason to have her with the RFA and she would likely be removed from the app.  The thought made him frown, though he wasn’t sure why, aside from his own – admittedly unusual – curiosity.

Feeling restless, Jumin decided to go to the gym.  It was not his usual time for exercise, but he knew that the physical exertion would calm his mind again.  As the treadmill rolled its track beneath his feet, he let his thoughts roam freely.  

That V had allowed a stranger, someone who shouldn’t have had access to the RFA app, to remain among them was odd.  He hadn’t answered Jumin’s questions, nor had he called.  All he’d done was ask Jumin to watch over the newcomer. “To what end?”  

Though generally considered distant, Jumin was not a cold man.  It seemed cruel to offer friendship and inclusion to someone while also leaving the possibility of removing all of that at a moment’s notice.  Besides, wouldn’t it be better for the RFA to hold the parties if it were determined that MC was no threat to the group or its members?  Truth be told, he had missed the excitement and the activity that came with the extravagant gatherings.  Most parties he attended left him wishing only to be left at home for days, but the RFA parties were different.  

“Then what I need to do is ensure that we do hold parties again.  If I do that, there won’t be a reason to remove MC, she will have us as friends and we will have our purpose again.”  He stepped off the treadmill and called the only person he knew who might object strongly enough to sway V against the idea.

After the third call went to voicemail, Jumin frowned.  Jaehee did not typically avoid his calls.  This was bothersome.  Not that he minded not having to hear the voice that was so tied to the office, but he needed to be certain that she was on board.

Returning to his penthouse, Jumin showered and opened the app again.  He’d been in the chat room more today than in recent months, but now he had a mission.  Now he was intent on securing MC’s position in the RFA.  

Thankfully, his assistant was in the chat, as was MC.  Before he could raise the question, Jaehee asked if he’d called earlier.  Taking the opening he asked, “I was curious if anyone was against hosting the party again.  The person most likely to be against it is Assistant Kang.”

“Why would Jaehee be against it?” MC questioned.

With a chuckle, Jumin typed, “Because she doesn’t want to work.”  

As the teasing continued, much to Jaehee’s obvious exasperation, Jumin pressed her for confirmation about the party. He laughed openly at her reason for supporting the parties though, reading her comment that his performance was best when they’d been holding parties.  While it was true he’d used the opportunities afforded to create new connections for C&R, he never exactly “gave up” on cat-related projects.  How little she knew that he had managed several deals to help his projects come to fruition thanks to the parties.

He let her keep her ideas about what he did with his time.  Thinking about the cat-related ventures reminded him, he needed to leave Elizabeth with Jaehee again.  Sadly, he needed to leave town for a business trip.  Just as he’d alerted Jaehee, his father began calling.

To MC he said, “We will talk later.” He took his father’s call quickly, relieved that he could count on Jaehee to support keeping MC in the RFA.  

Jumin and his father were fairly close, as father and son relationships went.  Though his father owned C&R, these evening calls were rarely about business. It was his father who had taught him to take time away from work in the evenings and to relax and enjoy life instead of never pausing.  Their conversation went much longer than usual, and by the time it ended, Jumin was itching for a shower.  He turned his phone off to avoid interruption for the rest of the evening and set about cleaning up and preparing for bed.  He would have broken sleep tonight, having to leave early for his trip, and needed to be sure that what sleep he could get would be restful.

As he settled in, Jumin hummed softly to himself and Elizabeth.  He was in high spirits tonight, despite the impending business trip.  Elizabeth was with him, MC was part of the RFA and he’d secured the most important ally in keeping her there.  Anyone who genuinely appreciated cats was worth keeping around.

[ifreakinglovewritingsomuch]

Changlix AU / Break The Silence (Part Six)

Pairings: Seo Changbin x Lee Felix, Bang Chan x Kim Woojin, Lee Minho x Han Jisung, Kim Seungmin x Hwang Hyunjin, ft. Yang Jeongin Plot: Chan finally sees no other chance to rebel against the system, even though he knows that he can get into trouble once again, losing the person he loves a second time. But he has to risk it! Felix ha no clue what the strange package in front of his house is meant to be, but when he follows the clues it leads him to a conspiracy he never wanted to be part of. (SiFi!Au, Futuristic!AU) Warnings: Angst maybe, but nothing really bad, I guess… Words: 1470 Part One/Two/Three/Four/Five… 

A/N: OMG, their Debut MV is so amazing. I really wanted to upload this chapter yesterday, but I was really tired so you get it now. Anyway, I'm so proud of them!! <3 Enjoy!

Their last mission was a complete success. Many people seem to agree with their message and there were even protests. The police quickly ended them, but at least people were getting thoughtful and started to act against the system. It is a small step for a big mission.

Even though Felix parents themselves only got angry about it and are non stop cursing those rebellious teenagers, without knowing Felix is part of them. But like most parents, they don't think he did something wrong. So at least they don’t suspect Felix.

To not let the flame that they started in the people die down, Chan decides that in groups of around two, they should do small missions.

When their leader finds out that Changbin and Felix are attending the same school, he immediately has the idea that they can do the mission together. So now Felix is on his way to meet with Seo Changbin to come up with a small sign to show a message to the people.

The young boy wants to refuse to talk to Changbin, but this situation would kind of make it hard. Especially after the older told him to meet in the evening, handing the younger a small card with an address.

Right now Felix is standing in front of a massive building, he knows that only rich people have the money to rent apartments here. So Changbin is probably still living with his parents. Felix is surprised that in this case the older even dares to invite him. After all his parents could get suspicious.

Taking a deep breath Felix enters the building, taking the elevator to reach the top floor.

There is only one door, which means that Changbin is living in the biggest apartment of the whole building. His parents have to be really rich.

Felix rings the bell, positioning himself so that he can be seen at the camera. He doesn't have to wait long until the door opens and Changbin is standing in front of him. Felix is startled at the older boys appearance. Instead of white, which is the colour people have to wear normally, the other wears completely black cloths.

"When you are done with checking me out, you can come in." Is all Changbin says before leaving an embarrassed Felix, who then quickly follows.

"I would never check you out, I was just confused because of your clothes." Felix tries to explain, but the older only raises an eyebrow.

"It talks," Changbin smirks, leading the other to his room. Felix bites his lips before he can make a sassy reply. They have to work together so it's better to be on the other boy’s good side.

"You parents have to be really rich." The younger says hoping to change the topic, easing the tension.

"They own this freaking building, of course, they are."

Felix doesn't really know what to answer; Changbins parents are some of the richest people in Seoul.

Similar to the rest of the apartment, at least from what Felix has seen, the other's room is really big and looks kind of expensive. Only the newest and best technology.

"Take a seat."

Felix does as told, and sits next to Changbin on his big king-size bed.

No one of them says a word. They only sit in awkward silence, both contemplating how to start a conversation.

"So why did you ignore me the last days?"

The younger was surprised by that question, after all, he wasn't the one that ignored the other at first.

"Why did you ignore me at school."

"Because we shouldn't be seen together. It would be suspicious if we suddenly became friends." Changbin knows that this is at least one reason, but he can't just say the main one. It's not Felix's fault, but the older is just really awkward around people he thinks are cute, which often leads to him ignoring them, at least when they approach him and his panic.

"Oh...I see."

"So why did you ignore me?"

Felix awkwardly scratches the back of his head.

"I was kinda mad because you humiliated me in front of the whole school..."

"I see..."

Even though Felix understands that the older had his reasons to be rude, he still doesn't really like the hacker. He is just a little creepy. Who knows what is going on in Seo Changbin's head.

Changbin tries his hardest not to stare at the younger the whole time because that would be really weird. And he doesn't want Felix to think that he is crazy or something.

"So about the mission...I thought we could do some basic vandalizing and hacking. I would just put our message on all the monitors and computers we have at school and you could spray our >name< on the walls...?"

"Yeah...that sounds good."

Again they are sitting in awkward silence, looking everywhere but each other.

"When you don't want to be seen with me, why did you invite me to your home. Won't your parents notice?" Felix asked, trying to ease the tension.

"They are barely home. They work at the other end of the city so I see them around twice a month."

"Oh...I'm sorry."

"It's okay. At least no one is around, that constantly tells me what to do."

Felix nods understanding what the older means. That's always how it is, with his parents. They are never satisfied and always want him to be the best. He probably should become a doctor. That's not what Felix wants. He loves dancing, but that is just one of his daydreams. But maybe it could become reality with Stray Kids.

"Okay...so I guess I'll see you at school around 1 a.m.?"

"Yeah sure." Changbin wants to ask Felix to stay, but there is no valid reason for the younger to stay. Changbin would just embarrass himself. So all he can do is say goodbye to the other and lead him to the door.

Felix is looking at his work in front of him painted carefully on the wall.

>Stray Kids<

He likes how it turned out. The young boy doesn't know how many of them he has already sprayed in every classroom, but this is the biggest right on the entrance wall.

The first thing everyone will see tomorrow. He can already imagine how angry the principal will be. And Felix is kind of sorry for the students that have to paint over the graffiti, but it's definitely better than lessons.

"Looks good." Felix flinches when Changbin suddenly appears behind him.

"Can you stop sneaking up on me?"

"Sorry."

But the smile on the older's face isn't really convincing that he feels sorry for it.

"Are you finished?"

"Yeah, all the monitors will show the message as soon as the electricity is turned on tomorrow...or more like today."

Felix nods.

"You know you could smile for once, we did a good job." The younger didn't mean to say that out loud, but it is already too late.

"I have put on a fake smile all my life. I'm tired of it. I want to genuinely smile. And we just did our job."

Felix doesn't really know what he should say to that and he kind of feels bad for saying it.

"Yeah okay...let's go now, or someone will notice the lights."

Changbin nods and they both leave the school behind, parting after an awkward goodbye, to sneak back home.

It's the first time that Felix sees the principal that angry. The man looks like he will explode any minute, his face red and the veins clear on his forehead. The man should probably calm down or he will get a heart attack.

Some of the teachers seem to be shocked, but he can also see the small smile some of them try to hide.

The students are quiet, mainly because they are scared of what the principal says, but Felix notices that they obviously like their little decoration.

"Shut those fucking monitors down and get me the janitor here asap. If that awful graffiti isn't..." But he wasn't able to end his sentences, because another teacher approaches him, whispering something into the older man's ear. Probably about the graffitis in the classrooms, because the principal is storming off followed by a few teachers. It is hard for Felix not to smile. He is really proud.

Felix looks over Changbin in the crowd of students and for a split moment their eyes meet, but the older immediately looks away. Again Changbin ignores the younger and it kinda hurts Felix, he really has the feeling they were getting along during the mission. But Felix tells himself that it's okay. He doesn't need the older to be his friend, He still has the other Stray Kids. But maybe Changbin is different than the others.

[naatta42]

Battle of the Mental Images

Battle of the mental images (a sexual comedy)

“What are you doing?” A familial male voice brushed over her mind as she looked over the burgundy fabric in her hands. She tried to ignore the black human shadow standing just over her shoulder and practically looming over her with his sheer height.

“Trying to buy some new clothes.” She said flatly, giving him no more information on the subject, grabbing another fabric, this one a deep mossy colored green.

“The red one’s better.” He offered, a simple statement as neither encouragement, nor insult. She looked at him, a man who cast no shadow (as he wasn’t actually there), hands tucked behind his back, looking at the items in her hand.

“I like the green one.” The brunette said, holding it up to the light.

“Then get it. It’s your money.” He drolled, black eyes staring off at something in the distance, probably looking at something on his side of the connection. “Waste it how you want.”

With an exaggerated sigh she held the burgundy fabric up in the light. Damn it he was right, it did look better. Begrudgingly she put the green one back and paid the vendor, who had said nothing about the woman who’d just then been talking to herself. She put the cloth in her bag and flung it over her shoulder, staff in hand as she weaved through the marketplace, her mind’s shadow following her.

“Don’t you ever wear anything but black?” She asked him, her question seeming to cut him off guard.

He steadied the hiccup in his stride and kept up with her. “Sometimes I wear gray. Once, my cape was blood red on the inner lining.”

She tried to imagine him in such an ensemble and shook her head. “I can’t see it.”

Heading to the docks her mind seemed to be stuck on this topic, wondering what kind of things her mind mate might look good wearing. Her thoughts put him in several outfits: a basic storm trooper, a general’s uniform, it kept her busy all the way up the gangplank of the falcon until she passed the wookie growling something at BB-8 as it and R2 loaded the ship with supplies. Kylo didn’t see him, or if he did, he didn’t say anything, but a thought struck her. Pausing mid step she looked back at the wookie, trying to imagine Kylo dressed in fur like one. The image looked ridiculous and she had to contain her laughter as she scuttled aboard and towards her bunk.

“What’s so funny?” He demanded his tone sharp and agitated. “I can feel the humor radiating off of you.”

“Nothing, just a funny mental image, that’s all.” She admitted behind closed doors. Pulling the tunic from her bag she spread it over her bunk to really look at it, enjoying the small pleasure of having the money to actually buy something nice like that. She heard him scoff from his spot in the corner, killing her mood. “What now?”

“Leave it to a scavenger to consider that rag ‘nice’.” He grumbled. “If you’d taken me up on my offer I could have given you whole wardrobes of clothes if you wanted.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed, putting her things away and hopping up on the bed, crossing her legs into a meditative pose and letting her eyes slip closed. “I don’t need wardrobes of clothes, Ben. Now go away, I’m going to meditate for a while.”

“Meh.” He grumped, but said nothing else. She could still feel him, moving about his space on whatever ship he was on, finally sitting in a chair and watching her through their bond.

It was annoying the snot out of her. “Ben, I can’t concentrate with you watching me like that.”

“Stop calling me Ben.” He grumped, but still refused to let the connection close. He was curious about something, and it was itching at her like a hair up her nose. “What was the mental image you found so funny?”

Rey cracked an eye open to look at him, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, watching her. If she didn’t know him as well as she did, she’d have almost been flattered as how intently he watched her. Finally she shrugged and looked him in the eye. “Your head on Chewie’s body.”

His eyes narrowed at the thought, growing irritated at how the edges of her lips twitched with humor. “That’s not funny.”

“Would you prefer C-3PO’s body instead?” She couldn’t help the grin sweeping over her face, her fingers digging into her knees to keep from laughing.

As if on command her mental image of him changed, shifting to fit her mind’s eye. His body, still in that position but made of shiny gold metal with only his human head and mane of black hair still remaining. She snorted, especially when he looked down. Apparently he could see what she saw, which just made him madder.

With a brush of his hand, like dusting off dirt he made the image fade away, back to his normal attire, glaring his black eyes at her. “I said it’s not funny!”

“I’m sorry,” she admitted. “Truly, no one deserves to look that bad. I just wondered what you looked like not wearing black.”

“I think you’d look good in black.” He said, pointing down. Rey looked at her person to see herself wearing black clothing near identical to his own. The idea killed her humor and nearly made her sick. In her minds eyes she stood, doing the same brushing movement and removed the clothing choice from her person, returning it back to her own usual sandy brown tunic and pants. In rebuttal she flicked her hand and threw an image at him. He looked down to find him dressed in traditional Jedi robes much like his uncle Luke had.

He made a disgusted face. “Not my style. Never was.”

“How about this then?” She threw another image at him, shifting him to black pants and a grungy white shirt, complete with dark vest and a blaster at his hip. His father’s clothing style.

Dark eyes seemed to get even darker as he looked down and tried to remove the idea but couldn’t seem to pull it loose, Rey’s own hand outstretched towards him to hold it there. He snarled and threw one back, her clothes turning to a high collared white linen dress, she could feel her hair shift this time too. Reaching up she touched two buns, one on each side of her head and turned to look in the small mirror hanging on the wall. “What’s with the hair? I look ridiculous!”

“You made me look like Han. I made you look like Leia.” Kylo said simply, darkly amused. “He said she wore that hair style when they first met.”

Rey tried to pull her hair free from the buns but they were stuck like that. She glared at him, releasing her grip on his image to try to fix her own. She could feel him move closer, keeping a grip on her like she had done him. She finally got the hair to come free but by then he was nearly toe to toe with her. To her surprise he hadn’t changed back into his usual black yet but instead was staring down at her, his own face amused albeit focused on her from the neck down. Looking down she squealed in horror at the slave girl look he’d put her in, feeling the icy metal of the bikini pinching in the wrong places and a breeze coming up between her legs under the long maroon loincloth making her clench her legs tightly shut. “What kind of outfit did you put me in?!”

“Just a passing fancy I’d been thinking on.” He looked her up and down, amused at how she tried to cover herself. Lowering his hand he grabbed at a chain that appeared tethered to a collar around her neck and pulled her into his arms. “Something my father told me about but never really appreciated until now.”

“You’re a pervert.” She snapped, trying to push him away, very uncomfortable at just how warm his arms were in such a cold and skimpy outfit. “Let me go. NOW!”

“Maybe I should imagine you like this every time we meet. I’d enjoy our visits together so much better…” He chided, tugging on that metal leash just a breath more, bringing her lips almost to his. Those black pools he called eyes seemed bottomless at this proximity and that hand on her lower back seemed to be getting lower and lower.

“Ben, let me go!” She demanded, palms firmly on his chest, shifting her feet in readiness to kick him where it hurt.

“I told you to stop calling me that!” He snarled back, tugging the leash so hard it was starting to dig into the back of her neck and really hurt.

“Ben Ben Ben Ben Be-mph!” Her voice was cut off by his lips pressing against her own. Brown eyes went wide in surprise as he held her there, still dressed like his father and doing the one thing she never honestly expected him to do. He held her there, squirming, wiggling to get out and away from him until the wiggling subsided, those hands trying to push him away instead wrapped around his neck and tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, making the kiss deeper.

He turned her, backed them up against the wall where he pinned her with his body. When she whimpered from the cold of the metal wall he simply slipped his tongue into her mouth, blindsided her resistance. When he could feel her barriers crack he barreled through with a nuzzle to her throat, a lick to her pulse and very firm grip to her ass. He kissed at the pulse in her neck, letting her pull the vest from his person and untuck the shirt from his pants. She wrapped her legs around his waist like python, locking her ankles on the other side at the base of his spine while he pulled that thin linen layer away from her bottom half and wiggled a few choice fingers in just the right places.

Rey let out a cry, looking down their bodies, he could feel her barriers trying to rebuild, trying to push him away but he barreled through them, over them, until she was swept up in the same primal lust pulsing through his veins. He could see how her eyes glazed over with it, reveled in how she kissed him back with equal force as he’d given. Where was this coming from? Was all this pent up from somewhere deep within? Was this coming from him or her? Or both?

Oh who the fuck cares.

She moaned against his lips and he lost it, pulling at the workings of the front of his pants and letting his own body free of its confines. Within a single, well aimed thrust he was inside her and his whole body practically sang with pleasure. She pulled him in tighter, moved with him as they rutted against the wall. He braced a palm against the cold surface of the wall behind her and shifted the balance, burying deeper, egged on by her sounds, her moans, her voice calling him over and over.

Pulling the metal top from her body her stole a kiss from her breasts, making her arch, and grip at his head, everything a swirl of lust and pleasure until nothing else could get in. He moved up to nip at her ear, grinning a little as how she tugged at his hair and scrapped her nails across his scalp. When she was close he slowed, trying to keep her on the edge as long as possible despite her complaints until at last he came with her.

She screamed.

She came screaming HIS name.

He’d never forget that for as long as he lived.

The pleasure began is ebb and they looked at each other, off the wall and back in their original seats from across the room. He was leaning back in his chair, dressed in his usual black and dripping in sweat. She wasn’t much better off, pressed back against the bunk wall, as far away from him as she could physically get, legs still crossed and covering her mouth with her hands in horror.

What had they just done?!

“I told you not to call me Ben.” He reminded her flatly, the crook of his lips sliding up into a victorious smirk. “Although I must admit I liked it when you screamed it. Next time maybe I’ll just make you naked so we can get right down to business.”

“Get out.” She demanded, pulling her hand away from her mouth, pulling her legs up against her, wrapping her arms about herself in protection. “Get out of my head!!!”

He said, but simply stood and walked away, vanishing from her view, severing the connection with a victorious grin on his long, smug face. He left her to her thoughts, curled and rocking in place on her bunk trying to shake the feeling of her body impaled on his own. She gulped, trying to center her thoughts. Instead all she could see was him dressed like his father, leaning back in that same chair and twirling a blaster in his hand with that damned cocky smile of his. It hit her right between the legs and nearly ended her all over again.

Getting to her feet she looked at her reflection, noting the little red welts on her skin where from where he’s kissed over her neck and shoulders. Biting the inside of her cheek she pulled the new tunic from her cubby space and dawned it, making a face before pulling it free and tearing it in half and grabbing a needle and thread to rehem it. Putting it back on the bottom of the top half now barely covered the bottom half of her breasts, one good wind or any movement and she’d be exposed. She grinned just a bit to herself as she turned the rest into a short skirt, complete with slits on either side that were laced together just a hint too far apart to show a strip of pale flesh underneath.

“We’ll see who’s ready for who next time, Ben Solo.” She mumbled softly, cutting the final string with her teeth.

This means WAR!

~_~_~_~_~_~

AN. War is hell, but sexual war is so much more fun to write about. Hehehehehehehehehe. Also, if anyone wants to ever do fan art based off my work please feel free. I’d be honored! T_T

��ӵ�P1

[saintheartwing]

May the Force Be With You, Pt. 4

Han and Leia were, as it turned out, currently shacked up in a hotel five blocks away from the Dyad’s headquarters. With the holographic disguises they had, it was easy for them to get a room, especially because, in general, Nar Shadaa’s businessmen didn’t ask questions of those that solicited their services. Better for everyone that way.

Now they were in the soft-painted hotel room as Han sat on a chair, looking over a datapad as Leia sat on the bed with Kendall. Both of them were sitting with legs crossed, hands resting on their knees as Leia tried to impart some basic breathing techniques and meditation on to Kendall. Besides feeling calmer though, Kendall didn’t appear to be getting anything out of it.

“Be with me...be with me...be with me…”

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“Try...I am one with the Force, the Force is with me.” Leia offered gently.

Kendall took in another deep breath, in, then breathing out. In, and out. “I am one with the Force, the Force is with me. I am one with the Force, the Force is with me. I am one with the Force, the Force is with me…”

She waited about five minutes, Han watching on as he raised an eyebrow slowly up. Truth be told, he sympathized with the lad. He wasn’t exactly a Force sensitive type either, the twenty-something before him was obviously barely connected to the Force and struggling to grab hold of something real. Han had been a bit saddened himself to know that he couldn’t really feel the Force the way Luke or Leia did, there were times when it would have been nice, to feel what they felt…

“Ohhh. Doesn’t look like its working.” Kendall sighed. “Let’s try and focus on the Dyad. What have you found out?” He wanted to know.

“We’ve been going around to people across Nar Shadaa’s capital, but it’s difficult to get them to talk. People were loath to speak to us about the two when they were younger and more common sights on the streets of Nar Shadaa, but when they became Sith, few, if any, knew what they were doing behind the scenes. I doubt there’s anyone who knows as much about them though based on what we have learned...well, except themselves.” Leia confessed.

Han held up the datapad, tapping on it, as a holographic display popped up from it, showing off what the contents were as Kendall looked at pictures of Furiosa and Raize. “The army is almost completely their own. There’s barely any remnants from the previous one, all of those were mostly older guard who just keep their heads down and don’t ask questions. The same goes for the planet’s fleet. Frankly, if you did ask questions or objected, unpleasant things tended to happen to them. People found their homes trashed, or their loved ones threatened, and in the worst cases, their bodies would get flung out of the top of the tower and they’d have to call in a cleanup crew. Always, of course, at a...less conspicuous time.”

“The average person on Nar Shadaa barely trusts them. They were disappointed that the Republic didn’t do enough, so they put their trust in the populist promises of the Dyad, only to find that the Dyad were actively oppressive, as opposed to the indirectly oppressive and red-taped-up Republic.” Kendall grumbled. “Look, I’m glad the Republic is DOING something now, but if your government hadn’t wet the bed years back, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“It isn’t that easy.” Leia insisted. “The Republic has to oversee and care for literally hundreds of worlds. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to manage that? It’s hard enough for one country’s senate to agree on what has to be done, imagine that...but ten times worse for a senate overseeing almost a whole galaxy.” She told Kendall. “We have to make sure we absolutely get it right or the consequences turn out catastrophic. We can’t move too quickly or it’ll be a dumb, knee-jerk reaction that will only exacerbate the problem.”

“But if you move too slow, the problem festers and then explodes.” Kendall reasoned.

“Look, the Republic should have done more, but it ain’t like this is totally their fault. The government represents you, buddy. How many Nar Shadaans actually vote?” Han asked.

Kendall blinked. “...I dunno, 40 percent? 50?” He asked.

Han smirked. “...26.”

Kendall gaped. “...NO WAY.” He murmured.

“Until the election of the Dyad and the election after that, it was 26%.” Han laughed. “We checked. It went up to around 70 percent when the Dyad announced they wanted to be the representatives of Nar Shaddaa, and only dropped about 10 percent the next election. Only one other guy ran against them. He got DESTROYED.”

“Yeah, I remember…” Kendall rubbed his chin. He remembered VERY well. Someone had swiped the letterhead of Candidate Kendee, a rather charming, though somewhat stupid, human candidate. The prankster had sent out invitations that promised “free beer, free food, girls, and a good time for all” to homeless shelters. He’d found a few sent to the very clinic he’d worked at, and these fake invitations had hurt Kendee in the polls.

Kendee had managed to bounce back though, at the debates. You could only do one on one, so first Darth Raize had tried to take him down, but Kendee had actually outsmarted her. It had been shortly after Nar Shadaa had endured an attack from Mandalorian extremists who had not gotten the memo that the war was over and they’d lost. Darth Raize and Furiosa had said it was the Republic’s fault because it hadn’t been NAR SHADAA that had been keeping the Mandalorian people down on their planet, it was the Republic, and Nar Shadaa was just an easy target because it was closer to Mandalore than Coruscant was, and less well-protected. So they’d used the attack as an excuse to further increase their military power, AND they’d spent months and months railing at how the Republic poisoned everything it touched.

And so when the debate happened, Raize put a hand over her chest, speaking solemnly and calmly. “I would never want to commit troops to military action. I never dreamed I’d be doing such a thing. But the enemy attacked us, and I have a solemn duty to protect Nar Shadaa, to do ALL I can. That’s why I’ve committed more troops to bases on Nar Shadaa’s moons to act as a bulwark.”

Kendee saw an opening.

“Mrs. Raize just said something frankly extraordinary.” He said in his response, his grey eyes looking right into her own. “And something very revealing. The enemy attacked us? The Republic didn’t attack us. Mandalorians attacked us, and even then, Mandalorian extremists, not the Mandalorian people. But I’ve read through all of your speeches in the past months since that attack happened, you mentioned the Republic and Coruscant 1214 times, you mentioned Mandalorians or Mandalore...102 times. You’ve spent more time attacking the Republic than actually attacking the people who blew up 4000 people three months ago.”

He began to dissect her arguments, methodically and quickly, cutting into her like a knife. Raize looked stunned, her mouth slightly agape. When it was finally time for her to respond, she let out an irritated, peevish “First of all, I know Mandalorian extremists attacked us. I KNOW that!”

It made her look bad. Really bad. It also didn’t help that in the next debate, Furiosa tried to connect with the audience by invoking her relationship with Raize, and how close they were. But this had been overplayed in the ads, the people of Nar Shadaa didn’t really find it adorable and cute anymore. It was just a normal relationship they’d seen again and again in the media, so what?

Perhaps they should have spent less money hyping up human interest stories about themselves, and more money devoted to basic needs like ensuring the staff who ran such stories at the media companies had their pensions. Kendee, meanwhile, touted his work as a judge. He’d served on the bench as a juvenile and family court judge, developing a strong interest in aiding abused children. He’d helped to start the “Nar Shadaa Trust Fund”, a private, nonprofit organization dedicated to providing money for kids who had nothing, along with being president of Nar Shadaa’s National Committee to Prevent Child Abuse and Neglect.

Kendall had been impressed. He’d actually thought Kendee would be able to win by trumpeting his heroic work advocating on behalf of the powerless. In fact, some of his campaign commercials showed him at his volunteer work, including one showing him shaking and holding hands with children.

That’s when the bad thought entered Kendall’s mind as he saw those images. “Wait. They WOULDN’T.”

They would. They initiated a whisper campaign that Kendee was a pedophile. They would use the local universities and colleges of Nar Shadaa to disseminate whisper campaign information. The students would go to the classes, hear the info, then return home, and word would get out. That way the lie would come across as common knowledge. It didn’t help that Kendee could barely stomach such an assault. He wasn’t the sort of person where this was water off a duck’s back, he had his own family to think of, and the somewhat small, well-groomed family man had seen his poll numbers plummeting, and ultimately decided to drop out to spare his family more shame.

So the Dyad had taken his greatest strength, touching the lives of kids, and turned it against him, saying he was touching kids.

Kendall knew about this because the clinic was a frequent stop not merely for the average worker on the street who couldn’t afford a better physician, but also for college students, and Kendall was a good listener to the patients. They’d found it surprisingly easy to get stuff off their chest, and to talk about things they’d heard whispered through the halls. Including the stuff about poor Candidate Kendee.

“What we really need to do is to encourage more people to openly revolt and rebel against the Dyad.” Han said. “AND we need eyes and ears inside their building as well. If we ever want to break in, that’s what we need above all else, and luckily, we do have someone who can help with that.”

“We’ve found several sympathetic electricians who specifically do work only for the tower. I was able to read their minds easily when Han and I were at a bar, they were practically screaming inside on how much they hated working for the two. Evidently they watched them force choke a captain of the guard for falling asleep at his post and they’d been terrified of their employers ever since.” Leia admitted.

“Well if you’re the sort of person who’ll casually kill your employees for minor offenses…” Kendall reasoned. “So they agreed to help?”

“They set up a way for us to hack into the tower’s camera system. We can’t get into the security system, that’s too well protected at the moment, but its a start. The next task would be to try and approach their boots on the ground, to see if we can gain allies there.”

Kendall cleared his throat. “Actually, I may be able to help with that.” He confessed. “Because a lot of protesters AND soldiers went to the clinic I worked at, and I know where they enjoyed going after. They’d invite me there for drinks and the like as thanks.” The Logosian told Han and Leia. “I may be able to get some of them to open up.”

“Good idea. We’re going to go out and get some dinner, we’ll bring it back here. You’d best lay low. You’re still recovering...and you can practice your mantras.” Leia suggested as Kendall smiled slightly back, though inwardly, he groaned. As Han and Leia left the room, he flopped onto the nearby couch, covering his face.

He couldn’t connect to the Force through mantas. He couldn’t just reach out through the ether and touch it. None of those methods were working. But...he had faintly felt SOMETHING before. When he’d just openly tried to speak to it out loud. He had to try and approach the Force in a different way.

So Kendall headed to the bathroom, closing the door, getting out his lightsaber as he held it up, focusing, taking in some deep breaths. “Okay. I’m listening. I know I’m not the best Force user this planet has. But I really want to try to talk to you. Tell me what I’m missing. Tell me how I can become better. I’ll try anything.”

“Do or do not. There is no try.” Kendall turned, seeing Leia standing there in the bathroom doorway, chuckling a bit as Kendall sighed, hanging his head.

“I must look stupid.”

“You don’t look stupid. You are simply not used to any of this, so you’re floundering and confused.” Leia told him. “Just think about exactly what you want, and open your mind to the possibility that it can happen.”

Kendall took in another deep breath. He tried to picture what the Force would look like if it could speak to him, but he kept seeing Leia over and over. Every time he tried to make a new face for the Force, it just became Leia. He couldn’t focus.

“Sorry, its just you over and over. I guess because you’re the Jedi here.” Kendall admitted as Leia walked back to the bed with him as he looked down at the lightsaber, turning it on as the red light hummed softly. “Sometimes though, I almost feel like the lightsaber talks to me.”

“A Jedi weapon has its own connection to the Force.” Leia said softly. “Maybe that’s how you can connect better to it. This weapon is your first, your first step towards becoming a Force user, it unlocked the potential within. It has a power all its own. But above all, you must remember a lightsaber should always be used in defense, either of yourself, or others.”

Kendall nodded. “You’re right, you’re right. But why can’t I “hear” the Force or “sense” it the way you can? The way the legends all say Jedi or Sith can? I can’t move rocks, I can’t get into people’s minds, normal Jedi and Sith can, why can’t I?”

“Everyone’s connection with the Force is different. All you need to do is find a way to make your connection work for you. But in truth, you don’t need to get into people’s minds. You have a way of getting into people’s hearts. It is your empathy and concern for others that is your greatest strength, and that, above all, is what makes a Jedi. Compassion.” Leia explained.

“That’s a nice idea.” Kendall said with a small smile growing on his face. “That actually sounds really beautiful.”

“I know you would like to speak to your Father. Maybe in time, as your connection grows, you’ll find the answers you desire.” Leia said. “But you must open the door and walk through it. Others won’t do it for you. They can only show you the right door, nothing more.”

Kendall suddenly felt something tingle his spine, and he sat up, blinking slowly before his blue, deep eyes gazed at Leia.

“I’m not speaking to Leia, am I?” He inquired.

“Leia” smiled. “No. No you are not.”

“...is this form you’re taking...so I’m more comfortable with you?”

“You’re only able to comprehend me as something you know. So...yes.” The Force told him. “Not everyone believes in me the same way. It is not such a difficult thing at all for me to take this form.”

“Are...are you actually God?”

The Force chuckled. “You don’t really think I am, and I won’t tell you I am, Kendall. But I understand why you’d ask that, I am, after all, immensely powerful, and connected to all living things. Probably as close to God as you can believe in.”

“Where did I come from? Could my Dad tell me? Was I...was I created by him? From you?”

“We can’t really answer, Kendall. It isn’t our answer to give, it is his. And you aren’t ready to speak to him.” The Force admitted. “Your mind is reaching out to me. It wants to understand. Your goal is clear. But you can’t focus on your Father without immense pain and sorrow filling you. If you tried to speak to him as you are now, you wouldn’t see your Father. You’d see not even a pale imitation, not an echo. Just a twisted shard of what he was. You don’t want that.”

For the brief flicker of a moment, he was not looking at Leia, but at something horrifying, terrible and enormous that only wore his Father’s face like a cheap dollar store mask and Kendall shuddered, shaking his head back and forth. “I get it. I get it.”

“Perhaps, soon, you will be ready. But you must be at true peace. For now...help the people of Nar Shadaa. And discover the truth of what Furiosa and Raize have done. Doing this will benefit you as well, Kendall. You will find they’ve opened a door...a door your Father also opened.”

And with that, it was gone, just as a knock came at the door. “We’re back. Hope you like noodles!” Han’s voice rang out from the other end as Kendall rose up to let them in.

“We’ve got a lot of work to do.” He told them as they all sat down to eat. “Hopefully I can reach some of the Dyad’s people. Maybe there’s others like those electricians that are scared off them too, and just looking for a chance to escape…” He mused aloud as he, Leia and Han began to heartily house down their noodles. Tomorrow would be a big day indeed...there was much to do, and so little time...