#best friends that just seem nonsense to everyone else. My folders of things that probably just read as disconnected gibberish or something

[icewindandboringhorror]

golf

[ladyofmaidensandwine]

9 to 5

A request by @herfalsegod

“Hey, hon! I’ve been obsessed with Dean Smith, would you consider writing something for him?”

Absolutely, darling, Dean Smith really just satisfies all my normal life Dean fantasies, and who doesn’t fancy the business suit?

Characters: Dean Smith, Fem! Reader

Summary: Reader is a no-nonsense, business-oriented woman. Her boss is less concerned with protocol, and entirely too stubborn. Dean Smith has but one goal in mind- finally get his assistant to go out with him.

Wordcount: 2,107

                        You clock in for work with a smile and a nod to the secretary by the time cards, offering polite greetings as you hurry through your morning routine. You’ve been working for Sandover Bridge and Iron Inc. going on four years now, having climbed the ladder from secretary to personal assistant quickly, and you loved your job. Your life was built on routines and schedules, and you thrived when organizing the chaos of the world into manageable lists and calendars, helping your boss, Dean Smith, do the same. 

                     By nine in the morning, your tea is steeped to perfection, you’ve got your laptop running, and you’re already working on clearing the list of daily tasks. You have a reputation for handling the complicated things, known as a great negotiator and a woman with a one-track mind, kind but focused, and you have earned your seat at the table with the company’s higher-ups. They count on you to make ideas reality, to take care of the issues and details they don’t have time for, and to be on top of everything going on in the company so that you can ensure it runs as smoothly and efficiently as possible. Dean Smith was the sort of man with an ambitious drive but a scattered mind, meaning you had to pick up the pieces to keep his momentum going steady. He’d always been a fair and polite man towards you, but as his assistant, you’d gotten to look behind the curtains, and knew he wasn’t as business-only as he appeared.

               “Good morning, Mr. Smith. Your coffee, Sir.” You greet him, stepping into his office. Dean offers a quick smile, and you wait patiently for his call to end. “Morning, Y/N. Looking lovely as always. How many times do I gotta tell you to just call me Dean. We’ve been working together going on two years now.” Dean chides. “A few more times at least, Sir. You’ve got Andrea from Delaware’s architecture in ten, I’ve made a file for you to look over. She’s going to try to sell you on the price cut, but the long-term expense isn’t worth it, so either compromise on the royalties or no deal.” You advise, handing Dean a thick folder you’ve compiled on what angle to take with the negotiation and the relevant statistics. “Thanks, Y/N. What would I do without you?” Dean grins. “Probably spiral downwards.” You say with a sly smile. “What else is on the agenda?” He asks, sipping his coffee. “Your sister is dropping by for lunch, I’ve already got it on standby at the cafe on mainstreet, you have two more meetings, tech service at one and marketing at two, and I have a few things for you to look other whenever you’re ready. Oh, and a Lisa Braeden called, should I send a message?” “No, no, I’ll talk to her. Ex-girlfriend.” Dean explains. “Ah. Anything else I can do for you?” You offer. “Actually, yeah, mind joining the meeting? You know these numbers better than me.” Dean shrugs. “Of course, let me forward the phones first and I’ll let Andrea in.” You nod.

                  “Y/N, you are a life saver.” Dean says, sighing as he slumped into his chair. You smile wryly, shaking your head. “It’s just maths, Mr Smith.” You raise a brow, grabbing the files and the signed deal to put it in the neatly organized system you have. “Says you. Say, Y/N, you free for lunch?” He asks. “I am, but you’re not. Jo?” You remind him. Dean’s face falls slightly. “Tomorrow, then?” “I can schedule it in. We can go over the marketing data for this quarter.” You agree. Dean smirks to himself, but doesn’t say anything as you walk back out to your desk.

               “Jo.” You smile at the blonde as she walks over, waiting for you to tell Dean she’s arrived for lunch. “Hey, Y/N! ‘S been a while!” She smiles. “Too long. Please take your brother to lunch, I can’t work with him calling me in for every little thing.” You plead, joking like the pair of you always do. You and Jo had been fast friends, bonding over making fun of Dean, though she’s just as quick to tease you about the crush she thinks you have on her brother. “In that case I’d better steal him away quick.” Jo winks. You lead her to the office doors, Dean smiling the moment he sees you, and standing up to greet Jo.

                 “Don’t you take a lunch break, Y/N?” He asks as they walk by. “Mhm. I’ve got chicken tikka masala to heat after I finish filing these records.” You nod. Dean frowns slightly, but lets Jo lead him away.

                If there’s one thing about Dean you admire, it’s his persistence. The man truly didn’t give up- the company leaders agreed, giving him more projects to take on quickly. You hadn’t known that it would be a quality invested in you, however. Dean had flirted with you when you’d first started working together, but you’d made it clear that you weren’t going to put your position in jeopardy, and he’d seemed to drop the subject, though the occasional comment about your outfit or a patented Dean Smith lady-killing smile was unavoidable. Since he’d broken up with Lisa, Dean had returned his attentions to you, though his approach was far more sincere than the first time. 

               You remind yourself that no matter how charming he is, he’s technically your boss, and you can’t risk losing your job, not when you’ve worked so hard to climb the corporate ladder. You admit to yourself that it’s a difficult task, pretending Dean’s affectionate gestures didn’t leave you flustered. He truly was sweet- a bouquet of peonies, your favourite flower, on your desk one morning, lunch and tea from your go-to cafe, odd trinkets now and then. You asked him once about the random items he left for you, and his response was that he’d seen them and had been reminded of you, your heart flipping in your chest. Damn that Dean Smith, him and all his endearing qualities.

                “Hey, Y/N, I heard about this new restaurant down on fifth street, sounds pretty great. Maybe this weekend you and I could try it?” Dean offers, smiling hopefully at you. You pointedly ignore Nora from accounting as she stares at the two of you, and give him a gentle smile, shaking your head. “Thank you for the offer, Mr Smith, but I’m busy with these reports.” You reply, his expression falling slightly and tugging at your heart. “Yeah, sure, I get it. I, uh, better get back to it.” Dean says brightly, masking his hurt at the rejection. “I’ll be in with the statistics on customer satisfaction in fifteen minutes, Sir.” You nod, pivoting in your seat and focusing on the documents in front of you. Dean hesitates a moment more before retreating into his office.

                “Y/N!” Nora exclaims the instant he’s out of sight. “I cannot believe you, turning down that man again!” She sighs, shaking her head at you in disappointment. “You can’t tell me he’s not attractive, and he’s such a sweetheart towards you! What on Earth is wrong with you?” Nora demands to know. You pinch the bridge of your nose and swivel in your chair to face her. “Yes, Mr Smith is attractive and very kind, but he is also my boss, Nora, and I’ve worked too hard to lose it all now over a man, no matter how much I fancy him.” You say shortly. Nora is gaping slightly and you frown. “If that’s all, I have work to do.” You dismiss her, going back to the report you’d been reading. What you don’t notice is Dean Smith in the doorway, flushed in pleasant surprise with Nora staring at him wide-eyed.

                    A prompt fifteen minutes later, you walk into Dean’s office, neatly organized reports tucked under your arm. “Mr Smith?” Dean looks up at you, smiling softly. “Those the reports? Thanks, Y/N,” he says as you nod and take a seat, “but it’s Dean.” He adds. You smile wryly, but don’t correct yourself, Dean smirking slightly as he shakes his head. “I’ll start in chronological order from the oldest to the most recent.” You say, opening the first report. “Wait, Y/N, I wanted to ask you something first.” Dean halts you. You look at him quizzically. “I may have... overheard your conversation with Nora.” He admits. Embarrassment courses through you. “I’m so sorry, that was highly unprofessional of me-” “Y/N, you’re not in trouble.” Dean chuckles. “I think it’s fairly obvious that I like you, and I have for some time now. Obvious to everyone including Jo, who threatened to ask you on a date for me if I didn’t do it myself.” He shrugs. You fidget with your wrist-watch, eyes darting away from the warm jade pair fixated on you. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and if you’re really not ok with me flirting with you, I’ll stop, but I just want to know something.” Dean says, taking a breath. “If you didn’t work for me, would I have a chance? If I wasn’t your boss, and you still worked for Sandover, and I asked you out, would you say yes?” Dean questions. You furrow your brows, looking back at him. “I- I s’pose so, yes. You don’t make me uncomfortable, Dean, I just really can’t risk my career. I do like you.” You confess, looking away again. He grins at you. “What?” “You called me Dean. You always call me ‘Mr Smith’.” He says, still grinning stupidly at you. You balk, thoroughly flustered. “Well, I-” You cut off, unsure what to say. “Why are you asking me questions like this?” “Don’t worry about it. Go ahead with the reports, Y/N.” Dean smirks.

                  A week passes, and while Dean still flirts with you and is just as sweet and attentive as ever, the more obvious gestures are less. You do your best to pretend you haven’t noticed, nor missed, the lack of flowers waiting for you, or some strange object you laugh at but tuck away with a secret smile. Things seem to be normal- meetings, emails, reports, negotiations, business deals, quotas, and gossip, falling back into the routine you cultivated so meticulously. And then, like a stone tossed into a still pond, your life is disrupted, that constant swept away in the current, and none other than Dean Smith is to be held accountable for it.

                 You don’t bother to knock- you knew his schedule, and knew he wasn’t busy. The doors to his office are flung open, and closed just as dramatically while you storm into the room. He has the audacity to look amused, but you’re glaring at him. “What did you do?!” You demand. “What d’you mean, sweetheart?” He asks innocently, but you’re not buying it. “The company’s big-wigs called me into a meeting, Dean. They offered me a job as project manager for the contracting division, huge bonus off the bat.” “That’s amazing, Y/N!” He grins. “Cut the rabbiting, Dean! What did you do? Why? Was I doing something wrong?” You ask, tone significantly quieter. His expression changes, a frown forming. Dean quickly rounds his desk, taking your hands in his. “No, Y/N, c’mon, you’re the best there is. They were looking for someone to fill the position. All I did was recommend you, you got the job on your own.” He assures. “What?” “Yeah, I mean, I’ve told you before, you know the numbers better than me, and you’re one hell of a negotiator despite not being a lawyer.” He shrugs. “Oh.” You say, the anger draining out of you instantly. Dean laughs slightly. “Before you ask, I didn’t give them your name just because I fancy you either. You earned this job, and you’re a smart woman, Y/N, too smart to be an assistant your entire life.” Dean says with a fond smile. You nod your head, taking it all in, a wide smile growing. “But you do fancy me.” You state teasingly. He laughs. “I don’t buy flowers for just anybody, y’know.” He winks. “Well then, Dean Smith, I think there’s celebrating to be had, and I happen to know this restaurant on fifth street. Care to join me, this Friday perhaps?” You offer boldly. Dean’s brows shoot up in surprise. “You’re serious?” “Yes.” “Hell yeah. I’ll pick you up at seven?” “Perfect.” You beam. Before you can walk away, Dean tugs you towards him, leaning in slowly. You meet him halfway, grinning uncontrollably against his soft lips. “It’s a date.”

TAGS-

Forever Tags-

@justagirlinafandomworld

Dean Babes Tags-

@herfalsegod

[kauladoeswriting]

Life Will Change, Prologue

What you see here is possibly my weirdest passion project, and frankly I’m  a little terrified to share it. But what the hell, I might as well get it over with. If I keep tweaking it it’ll never get posted. No beta we die like men. Yell at me if there’s any weird continuity errors.

While knowledge of neither series is necessarily needed, it will probably make it more enjoyable. Fandom: Rockman.EXE/Persona 5 Fusion Wordcount: 1764

AO3

Next Chapter

November 18th, 2016

After School...

"After him!" 

 The night sky glittered through the windows as Joker ran by, moving along the sills of the window with grace born in practice and time. 

 "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were intentionally leading them on," Nurse commented in his ear. 

 "Psh, nah. You know how no nonsense he is! He wouldn't do that!" Ribbon responded. Despite her words, her tone revealed she was as joking as Nurse.

 "He's going to get caught if he doesn't stop," Rock scolded. "There's an air vent to your left, Joker. Take it."

 "Lighten up, Rock!" crooned Light. "You and Nurse worry way too much!"

 "Worry? You misunderstand me, Light. Joker's just an idiot." They could almost imagine Nurse tapping her foot without even seeing it.

 "I think none of you are taking this with appropriate seriousness." Soldier jumped in. "The only ones even trying seem to be myself, Rock, and Popup." No one could see Soldier, as he was off by himself, but they could hear his frown loudly over the comms.

 "Because we should act like a dog?" Light asked, immediately followed by a yelp as someone smacked him. If Joker had to guess, it was Ribbon or Popup.

 "How about you're all a distraction and really need to be quiet?" Joker asked, grinning all the same. He had taken Rock's advice, pulling himself up into the vents and let himself out into maintenance hallways, avoiding the guards chasing him for now.

With a quick look around to make sure he really alone, he crept down the hallway, leaping from shadow to shadow. He ducked behind a plush chair as a pair of guards ran by, hoping to catch any one of the nine thieves currently running about the building. They ran by the leader, but of course, they didn’t notice him.

 They never did. 

 Climbing through the building had led Joker to the upper floors. Okay, going up made things a little tougher, but he had accepted that escaping from down below was hopeless on foot. “HALT!”

 Oh, wonderful. He was found again. How were they tracking him so fast, exactly?

“There’s no way around! Joker, you’ll have to fight your way through!” Rock’s voice echoed in his ear, the navigator trying his hardest to manage all of the escapes at once. (He really didn’t envy the navigator’s job.)

 Drawing his sword from his sheath, he took a wide slash, striking both of the blob like security guards and causing them to dissolve. In a moment, they were more solid demons, something he could actually fight. Have to finish this quickly!     Joker grabbed his mask, summing a figure with long flowing hair next to him. “Let’s do this in one shot.” The figure readied it’s blade, wreathed in dark energy.

“EIGAON!” The swordsman next to him drew his sword back, and then in one fluid movement, tore straight through the opposing shadow. Not waiting a moment longer, Joker drove his sword straight through the chest of the shadow’s friend, drawing his pistol quickly and shooting it for good measure.

 “And that’s that.” He said, pleased, tucking his weapons back into their respective holsters. “Good one Joker! Now get going!” Rock encouraged. 

 “Watching him fight is fun, can we look for more things to- OW! Will you stop that?” Light complained, more shuffling as he evidently swung back this time. “Are you trying to get us in trouble?” Ribbon asked.

 Shaking his head, Joker took off down the hall way, continuing his hunt for a safe way out. Whatever map he was using, apparently Rock was unable to give him more useful directions.

 He was at the top of the building now, looking for a way out when the guards found him a second time. He could fight his way out, or he could do the fun thing…. How much did he feel like channeling Light?

 With guards on both sides, and a 5 on 1 match seeming unlikely, even with his skill and variety, Joker decided that channeling Light was in fact the best option here. Pivoting on his heel, Joker faced the huge window directly to his left, and with a few steps back, launched himself straight into it, guarding his face with his arms. For the briefest of seconds, Joker let himself fly through the air, before shifting to head down and land on his feet. For a precious few seconds, Joker thought he might have actually made it outside safely, and that he’d escape from the building unharmed. 

 And then all at once, the world in front of him lit up with the spotlights of SWAT officers. Oh. Oh hell. Pivoting on his heel, Joker jumped up to grab the fire escape ladder, encouraged by the chanting of his teammates in his ears. He climbed as quickly as he could.

 In the back of his mind, he could feel everyone yelling at him, warning of incoming danger. Not just his teammates either. Officers greeted him at the top of the ladder. Even though he knew they were coming, Joker couldn’t help looking surprised. Even more so, when they stomped on his hands, forcing him to let go and sending him spiraling back to the ground.

 This time, Joker wasn’t able to control his plummet.

The following was a flurry of motion and noise, as his comm link was torn away and he lost contact with his teammates, amid their worried commentary. “So young, huh?” Commented one officer, grabbing Joker’s face and roughly examining it, as if to get an idea who he was behind his mask. “To think that an actual kid has been committing this string of crimes…” Joker hoped the glare came across the way he wanted it to. With his arms pinned with an adult’s full bodyweight to his back, there’s not much else he can do. “You were sold out, you know.” Another officer, this one far more arrogant sounding, knelt down next to Joker. “You can thank your teammates for this.”

And then Joker’s world went dark.

 ========

When Joker came to, it was not to the same beautiful building he had fallen asleep in. Rather, it was in a concrete room he had never seen before, with two officers staring him down. He blinked slowly, trying to process the world around him.

 His face was bare. His mask was missing. And looking down revealed that he wasn’t wearing a a tuxedo of any kind, or any kind of weapons; just his day clothes. 

 “Assault, Murder, Grand Larceny, Obstruction of Justice, Property Damage, and more.” The officer was reading his charges. “Quite an impressive rap list for someone who is like, 17 years old?” He asks. Joker glared, not willing to respond to them. If they expect him to cooperate with them, they had another thing coming.

 Apparently, the officer with the clipboard had the same idea. “Now, kid. You can make this easy, or you can make it hard. We have a confession prepped for you. All you have to do is sign.” Still not willing to open his mouth, Joker shook his head no, trying as much to shake the worry of his teammate’s safety as he is  trying to push away the orders of the officer. He needed to hold his ground. They knew the plan, he had to trust they carried it out.

 The officer didn’t agree with Joker’s vow of silence, shoved the chair over, throwing the teen to the ground. “Think you can be a real smart guy, eh? We’ll get your name, one way or another, kid.”

 Blue eyes wandered to the camera in the back corner, behind the officer. The officer turned to see what Joker was looking at, and then laughed. “Are you hoping for the camera to save you kid? That someone will see this and come to your rescue? Let me burst your bubble; They don’t come to save criminals like you.” The clipboard is roughly shoved in Joker’s face again, as someone realized they should probably release his hands if they expected him to write. “Don’t even think about lying kid. You’ll just be caught immediately.” He chuckled, as if it were funny. “Not that you could anyways.” Deciding to cooperate to avoid another harsh hit like that, even though he was confused by the statement, Joker raised his hand to write his name on the clip board.  

Ijuuin Enzan

The officers looked at the name for a moment. “Isn’t it that kid of that CEO…?” Asked one. 

“The one who got in trouble over assaulting a politician?” The other officer confirmed it with a nod.

“You’re going away for a long time kid.” The one that had shoved the clipboard in his face kicked him again, almost completely for ‘good measure’ at this point.

And then he was alone.

=======

Enzan finally climbs to his feet and at least rights hs chair. He was stuck in this room for the foreseeable future. He was waiting for a certain someone, but that person had to actually show up… and a part of him couldn’t help but worry that all their planning was for naught.

Those worries were assuaged when a woman with her hair in a ponytail, wearing a clean pink suit with a blue tie. If anyone could make that look professional… “Ijuuin-kun. I apologize, but we’ll need to make this as quick as you can manage.” She got right to work, setting the folder in her arms down and spreading them across the table. “I have had some time bought for me by my superior, but unfortunately they seem insistent you don’t get a fair shot.” Enzan couldn’t say he was surprised. With a rap sheet like his, he can’t imagine anyone wanted to see him walk free. If only they knew….

“We have been told...things about how you committed your crimes.” Manabe began slowly. “However, the explanations are… spotty at best.” 

Enzan nodded. They sounded unbelievable to him even know, and he had been at this for the better part of a year.

“They say you steal hearts, and fittingly, all those your target have make a complete 180 in their behavior. Ijuuin-kun, I need you to tell me everything so I can make an effective defense. I know their… methods, may make talking a little hard, but I need you to try.” Her nose crinkled a little bit at the comment. “You have to try.” “From the beginning?” Enzan spoke finally.

“From the beginning.” Manabe agreed.

“Well. It started in early April ...”

[reylo-trash-4ever]

HELLO LOVELIES!!!

Here is part 4 of my fic! Jesus it took me so long... but it’s here now and Happy Valentine’s day! As always - shout out to @scav-eng-er and @mojona1999 for being the BEST humans out there! Y’all mean the world to me. I HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR V-DAY GIFT! 😘

!!! Fair warning: some of this gets a bit steamy !!!

The Game: Chapter 4

“Computers have passwords on them for just these scenarios, Rey,” Rose said from across the table, “The chances of him getting into yours is very slim. Especially because he doesn’t know the first thing about you.”

Rey made an unrecognizable noise from inside her arms that were crossed over the table where she hid her face from her friends. Poe, Finn, and Rose were all trying to console her at their favorite coffee shop after the “incident”. She had texted them furiously saying it was an emergency, and their ‘drop everything attitude’ almost made her feel better about the whole situation… almost.

“He’s such a dick!” She hissed suddenly, throwing her head up from the table and smacking her fist against the wood. Poe gasped in surprise and Rose sighed. Finn reached across from his seat next to Rose and placed his hand on her arm.

“Try to stay calm, Rey,” he said, trying to comfort her, but his eyes begged her to keep quiet and she remembered she was in a public place. She glanced around the room and felt her cheeks heat as she noticed a few people staring apprehensively at her.

“Have you tried getting into the laptop yet?” Poe suggested, taking a sip of his latte.

“No, because I won’t play into his sick little fantasties,” Rey retorted, still unable to completely suppress the anger inside of her.

“Well, if he’s going to make it so easily accessible, you should at least try. I, for one, would love to know what’s on the personal laptop of the rich boy jerk.” Finn released her arm back to her, and Rey felt herself becoming a little more curious with each word he said.

“I bet there’s some real shady shit on there,” Poe said, glancing down at Rey’s bag that was in between their two chairs. She recognized the look in his eyes, but before she could do anything to stop him, he had snatched the laptop from her, despite her protests. She tried to take it away from him, but he kept her back with one arm and passed the computer to Finn and Rose who were infamous with techie things like this.

“Let’s see how hard this proves to be,” Rose chuckled, cracking her knuckles. She had an evil sparkle in her dark eyes as she looked down at her quarry.

Finn slowly opened the laptop with everyone’s attention on him. Rey groaned and sunk back into her seat, but she couldn’t hide the curiosity she secretly felt.

“That’s… unnerving,” Finn finally said, breaking the silence that had fallen on the four friends. Rey felt her stomach flip and she knew she had to do something before she got them into a legal mess they couldn’t get out of.

“Look, if it’s too difficult, we can just ignore it because it’s not that big of a deal-”

“No,” Finn cut her off, “it’s just that there’s no password at all.”

“That’s super suspicious,” Poe mused, “you’d think someone as prominent as ‘his majesty himself’ wouldn’t want just anyone getting into her personal things.”

“Do you think he knew this would happen?” Rose asked, looking between the group with suspicion written all over her face.

“That’s impossible,” Rey said quickly, trying to reassure herself more than anyone else.

“I don’t know,” Finn mumbled, scratching his chin absentmindedly, something he only did when thinking hard, “it’s possible he had this planned from before the moment he met you. If he wanted to figure out who he was working with, maybe he intended to steal their belongings anyway, no matter who they were.”

“You just might have made his job a lot easier when you forgot your bag in Holdo’s office,” Rose agreed. Those two were always like that though. From the moment they met each other, being introduced through Rey, Finn and Rose loved to swap conspiracy theories and tech questions and over all crazy nonsense. They were both huge nerds, and she loved them for it, but sometimes they fed off of each other in ridiculous ways that made her roll her eyes, as she did now.

“You guys, there’s no way he’s that conniving, or that smart.”

“Weren’t you the one who said he’s like a ‘lawyering protégée’, or something?” Poe asked, taking another sip of his coffee. He loved to do that so conveniently whenever he said something he thought was poignant or important.

“First of all, ‘lawyering’ is not a word,” Rey retorted, watching him with the sides of her eyes, “and secondly, I guess you could call him a protégée, but I’ve never actually seen him do anything, so I don’t know if it’s even true. In my opinion, I think that’s just what people say to puff up his pride so he’ll like them better. Rich people get opportunities simply handed to them just because they were born to the right parents. He probably only has his privilege to thank for the reputation he has.”

“Yikes,” Finn muttered from the corner of his mouth in the silence that followed. They all knew how Rey felt about these kinds of things, but even she knew she could be a bit harsh because of what she had to go through to get to where she was. She couldn’t help it though! It was unfair that she had to do so much work to be noticed, and now this ‘high and mighty’ rich boy was going to take all of that away from her? She was just going to have to make sure she proved him, and everyone else who didn’t believe in her, wrong.

“Give me the laptop,” Rey said, making up her mind. She reached across the table and grabbed the device, her fingers easily wrapping around the sides. Finn made a noise as she pulled it away from him, and he stuck out his bottom lip in a pout.

“You can have your ‘toy’ back when I’m finished,” she teased, turning the screen so she could see it better. It had a simplistic, default background which Rey found oddly too plain. All that was on the desktop was a folder labeled ‘work’. She scrolled over and opened it, revealing file after file of apparently old cases. Each one was labeled neatly with the name of the case followed by the date. Rey was shocked by how many there were, and a quick look at only a few of them showed her how organized Ben Solo actually was. The work looked legit and she found her spirits dropping with each case she reviewed. She had to swallow her pride before she could admit to herself that for all intents and purposes, he really did seem good…

The thought felt bitter in her mind and she almost felt it clawing up her throat. Could this all really be true? There was something in her that was excited to work with someone so experienced, but it fought with her sense of previously shamed honor. This arrogant son of a bitch was proving to be more and more difficult by the second.

“What’s wrong?” Poe whispered. He must have seen her face fall as she researched, but she found she couldn’t say anything. The cases seemed to jump out at her to prove her wrong at every turn. It was infuriating.

“If this is any indicator, he might actually be-”

Rey was about to say “good”, but the rest of the sentence got caught before it could escape her lips. She pulled open the start menu and found something that disturbed her beyond words. In the ‘recently opened’ tab was a file named ‘the kid’. Something in her knew that it was talking about her, especially with the memory of how Ben Solo would hurl that word at her like an insult. She felt numb as she hovered over the file before finally gaining the courage to double click it.

Her heart was beating hard against her chest as she scanned the pages. She discovered that it was a bunch of compiled information on her. Where she grew up, where she went to school, to college. Somehow he even got a hold of her grades and past presentations. There were things in there that she didn’t know could be found, such as pictures of her at parties, newspaper clippings from when her school projects collected her prizes at fairs, and even certain hospital records. Rey wondered how much money and power you had to have to get this kind of personal information on someone.

She kept speed reading and suddenly, the worst part of all was popping out of the screen and practically punching her in the face. A complete list of all the cases she had ever worked on, and all the clients she helped, stared back at her. Details only she was ever supposed to know about how she worked, things she didn’t even share with her friends, were all listed in annoyingly neat little sections. Her hard work and dedication so perfectly singled out in one file on a stranger's computer for him to see right through and judge.

Rey slammed the laptop shut, almost catching Poe’s fingers as he was inching closer to turn the screen towards him. He wrenched his hand back, a wide eyed look of shock on his face that quickly turned to worry when he met her fiery gaze.

“Rey, what’s going on?” He asked, but she ignored him once again and jumped out of her seat, sliding the laptop into her bag and slinging the whole thing over her shoulder in one swift movement.

“Nothing,” she said too quickly, “I just remembered a project that I have to be working on right now.”

“Isn’t this the only project you have today?” Finn asked, obviously not believing her as she threw on her coat and haphazardly slung her scarf twice around her shoulders.

“It’s definitely not so shut up, Finn!” She called back to her friends, walking away before any of them could call out for her to stop. It was a talent that she actually liked about herself, her ability to blend. Her friends told her it was just another aspect of the ‘Black Cat’ nickname that fit her so well. She could melt into any crowd and become practically unseen.

Rey raced through the snowy streets of the city, not really sure where she was going. All she knew was that she had to escape. She had to be anywhere but there with all of those prying eyes. Everywhere she looked it felt as if every person could see right through her the way Ben Solo had done. Were her secrets so plainly written on her forehead for all the world to see?!

She felt naked as she ran at almost a full on sprint now. She tried to focus on the streets in front of and below her feet, forcing her gaze down as to avoid any and all possible interactions with other humans. All Rey could feel was the overwhelming urge to crawl into a hole and be alone for the rest of her life. How could one person make her feel this way? As if she were completely see through and like he knew everything about her?

It was entirely unfair since she apparently knew nothing about him. At least, nothing that wasn’t just a rumor or a connection she had no proof was real. How could she ever compete with someone she knew so little about, who apparently knew all he needed to about her? He knew how she worked, how she seemed to think, and what her skill sets were. He would shoot her down at every turn, take advantage of her naivety and make himself out to be the boss of her every decision and thought.

But there was no way in hell she was going to let that happen. This was supposed to be her time to prove herself worthy of becoming jr. partner and she wasn’t going to let that dark and brooding monster of a man get in her way any more than he already had.

Something in her stomach seemed to ignite, and she suddenly felt a fire burning beneath her fingertips. It was a tingling she hadn’t felt in a while, the fierce resolve of a woman on a mission and when Rey set her mind to something, it got done. It didn’t matter that Ben Solo knew how or why she did what she did, all that mattered was that she did it.

Suddenly, an idea began to form in her brain. It was crazy and idiotic, but Poe had always told her those were the best kinds. Rey slipped into the nearest Starbucks, which wasn’t hard to find since there seemed to be one on every corner in New York City, and ran to a window with a counter protruding out just far enough for her set the computer down on.

It didn’t take long for her to find what she was looking for. For someone as seemingly elusive as Ben Solo was, he wasn’t very good at covering his tracks when he made them. Rey smiled at the newfound discovery and once again snapped the laptop shut. She was happy with what she found and it was all she needed at the moment. She would show that asshole just who he was dealing with.

***

There was a rustling of satin sheets as the woman beside him moved in her sleep. He didn’t look over at her. Instead, he kept his focus on the book he was reading and decided not to give her the time of day. She was just another body next to him, nothing more. He met her on his way home from work earlier that morning. It had been another ‘tense’ encounter with her obviously knowing who he was, or at least that he was made of money. Women loved men with the means to buy them out of their insecurities.

“Good evening,” she whispered into his ear, apparently awake and a lot closer than he had realized. He didn’t say or do anything in response, still decidedly cold and not caring. The woman seductively bit his ear and peppered kisses onto his neck. Sure, they felt good in the way any human contact did, but when Ben was focused, nothing could tear his attention away. Most people thought his intensity was unnerving, but it was just another circumstance of people’s behavior that he couldn’t care less about. No one else’s feelings about him mattered.

Which is how he normally felt, but today, he couldn’t stop thinking about the girl from before. His new ‘partner’. Sure, he had done his research on her, like he always did for anyone he was being forced to work with, but nothing compared to how she actually behaved. He was slightly taken aback by her abrasiveness. The girl he looked into was supposed to be shy and awkward, not fierce or a spitfire. Her stubborn and hateful eyes seemed to seer into his mind and he just couldn’t shake her own intensity.

Ah well, sometimes people surprised him, but more often they didn’t. He was sure she would turn out to be boring just like all the rest. It wasn’t anything to dwell on seeing as he was sure she would be like all the other girls he had ever known.

The woman, who was so desperate to get his attention, was now practically lying her whole naked body on top of his. He turned his head to avoid her lips while he read the last sentence of the chapter, letting her caress his chest and run her hands greedily through his hair.

In one motion, he shut the book and threw it on the desk beside his bed, swooping up the woman in his arms and kissing her passionately on the lips. She squealed as he grabbed her and pulled her fully on top of him so that she now straddled his hips with her knees. He hungrily touched her skin, running his hands all over her back and squeezing her ass, causing her to let out another sound, this time lower and more animalistic.

But just when they were getting to the point of no return, Ben felt the pang in his chest again and he instantly saw those eyes. Her eyes.

It took him out of the moment so quickly that he practically shoved the woman off him. She yelled her surprise and fell back onto the bed, but he didn’t even hear or care. He quickly stood up from the bed, the blankets sliding off of his bare body.

“Get out,” he hissed, running a hand angrily through his hair. How dare she interfere with something like this. How dare she invade his personal thoughts at a moment as pivotal as that was. It was disgusting.

“Did I do something wrong?” The blonde pleaded, crawling to the edge of the bed and reaching for Ben. He slapped her hand away and turned to glare at her.

“I said, get out!”

It was a yell this time, and the woman did as she was told. Without another word, she hastily slipped on the green dress she was wearing only hours before and stuffed the rest of her clothing into her purse. Ben didn’t give her another glance as she left the apartment, the door slamming shut behind her.

Once he was alone, he let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his face with both his hands. This was not the way he intended the day to go. He had woken up that morning with a nonchalant attitude towards the whole ordeal. He knew he wasn’t going to like what Amylin had planned for him, he had laughed in her face the first time she proposed it, but he also knew it was what he had to do. His mother had made it very clear that this was the last chance she was ever going to give him.

It’s not like he asked for her her approval, he hadn’t wanted or needed that since he was sixteen and her and his father made it very clear that they cared more about their company than they did their own child, but he didn’t want to lose the cash flow she regularly sent to his bank account. He was a talented lawyer and genius prodigy who didn’t need his mommy’s help to make it in the world, but the fact of the matter was that it was easy. He would much rather have his lavish and debauchery filled lifestyle be paid for than have to work for it himself. It would just be so boring and meaningless that way.

Ben pulled on a pair of fresh boxers and went to clean his face in the bathroom. A few splashes of ice cold water would do well to wash away the thoughts of that obnoxious young woman who thought she could get the better of him. He resisted the urge to smile at the “adorable” notion. Let her try, he could squash that little girl like a bug. She would be nothing but a nuisance and a thorn in his side if he didn’t make it abundantly clear who was in charge. The stunt with laptops was just a random opportunity that he couldn’t resist playing with. There was no way in hell she was smart enough to get into it, and he quite honestly couldn’t care less about what was on hers. He already knew all he needed to about her, he had just stolen the device to show her that he could.

She was probably like all the other women he had ever met, climbing the social and political ladder with her vivacious body and little brains. It would be easy to manipulate someone like her and he wasn’t fully against getting a little fun out of it along the way.

Ben finished dressing and was getting ready to spend the rest of the evening with his book and bottle of wine, when there was a sudden rapping on the door. His eyebrows scrunched together as he looked over at it, convinced he was hearing things. There was no way the footmen would let a stranger up to his penthouse without his knowing. He wasn’t expecting anyone either, not that he had any friends to expect in the first place. Who the hell would disturb his peace?

Another rapid and furious knock erupted the silence and Ben almost snapped a ‘who is it’, but he thought better at the last second. A thought crossed his mind that it could have been the random woman who left only moments before, but he thought he had scared her enough not to come crawling back.

With a groan, he slowly lifted himself from his armchair and walked to the door. He didn’t look through the peephole before wrapping his fingers around the handle and pulled it back towards him.

The last person he expected to see was standing in the doorway, her arm raised and her fist tightly closed as if she were about to bang on his door a third time. She looked as startled as he felt and for a moment, they stared at each other in disbelief.

It ended quickly, Ben realizing he didn’t want her to see his shock, and he broke the sudden deafening silence that swirled around them.

“Rey, what are you doing here?”

[randombtsprincessa]

Adulation

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Kim Taehyung x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 24.8k

Genre: Angst/Smut

Summary: Your Actor Charge seems to have a gigantic crush on you. When a blast from the past hit you both, will you stay? Or will you leave?

Warning: Mentions of Sexual Harrassment, Taehyung is a hot jerk, Pool Make Out, Reader is kind of a jerk too, Sasaeng activity, jealousy, drunk fighting, Dom! Reader (Kinda), Sub! Tae (Kinda), Mild Nipple Play (Male Receiving), Fingering, Protected Sex, Sexual themes.

A/N: I know, I’m sorry.

A loud blare went through the night, shrill and ear piercing, making the huddled up and covered figure jolt in bed. Your quiet cocoon shivered before groaning, a hand appearing from an opening in the burrow and feeling about for the infernal device.

The moment your fingers brushed the case, you yanked it inside the darkness enveloping you. the sound of wires pulling away and the charger dropping to the crowded nightstand made you grunt again but you could care less at the moment as you swiped at the accept option without opening your eyes completely.

The person on the other side of the line started talking immediately; not even waiting for you to say ‘hello’ and the sharp panic in the voice only made you wince; trying to crawl away from it.

“Stop, stop, stop…! I am not getting in a word of what you’re saying and I have no idea who you are so if you don’t take it down a notch and start from the top I’m hanging up and turning my damn phone off.” You snapped, knowing fully you couldn’t do anything like that.

The voice took a deep breath and sighed.

“It’s me, and I did it. Today, right now, I just submitted the letter and I am, for lack of a better word, fucked.”

You sighed, discerning your friend’s voice and pushed yourself towards more consciousness.

“What happened?” you asked, pulling a hand down your face.

“Ok, so I went up to the man and handed in my notice and he read through it – he actually read through it – and then tells me that I can’t quit because there’s a clause in our contract that basically means the previous manager can’t quit unless he finds another and he hasn’t found another and so I can’t leave.”

“How did you not know this clause?” you asked.

“I don’t know! I was so hyped about leaving I didn’t talk to his lawyers.”

“Mil,” you sighed, and she returned it equally.

“I know, I know what you’re going to say but please, you need to help me,” she begged.

“What can I possibly do?” you asked, horror creeping through to you at the thought of whatever it was she was going to ask you to do.

“Please, it’s only for a few days till he finds someone, till then I just need you to fill in for me. You know I can’t let this new job go…I mean it’s Minho for God’s sake! I’ll do anything.”

You glanced at the digital clock next to you. 2:13, the brilliant letters told you and you shook you head. It was too early for this.

“I don’t do temp jobs anymore, Mil. Those days are long gone. Besides I’m on vacation. I just started a day ago; I cannot just start a new job out of nowhere…especially temporarily.”

“I know, Y/N, I know, I just…oh come on, this is a once in a lifetime thing for both of us. If you work with him, you can work with anyone and his name on your resume is going to make it stellar.”

“I already have a stellar resume. I don’t need to add his name to it. You’re going to have to ask someone else.” You said; about to pull away from the conversation, ready to sleep again.

“Consider this a favor then, I’ll owe you. Take him on permanently. Both of you will be a whole lot better for it and who knows, you might just put him straight and enjoy doing it. Plus it’s you, you have a glowing reputation and he’d be a bigger idiot than he is to let you go. He’d even let you set the terms.” Your friend said finally.

You could tell it was a last desperate attempt and even though your better judgment told you to tell her no and hang up, your sleep deprived state was looking for ways to make this conversation end as soon as possible. You didn’t know if Mil was going to just give up and you didn’t look forward to having this one again.

“Fine, I’ll do it but it has to be all in the way I want it, ok?” you said, gritting your teeth at having to wake up at a reasonable hour again but you heard the distinct relief in hers.

“Oh my god, thank you, Y/N! Yes, he’ll play nice, I promise. You won’t regret it, I swear.” She said.

I already do, you thought grimly.

Even as the line went dead and you were left to ponder about either going to bed or getting some work done now that you were going to be employed again you smacked your head with the heel of your palm.

“What did you just do, you fool?” you griped at yourself.

Working within the circles of celebrities and the upper elite had always been your forte, given your skills of talking someone into doing stuff and eloquent manner. It had been your calling and you loved it.

You had worked from the very bottom the moment you’d left university, taking the experience you’d had being TAs and applying it to manage and acting as secretary to lower and upper socialites.

You had been successful in proving yourself, working your way up the ladder of the elite, from low level CEOs and COOs to high level corporate owners.

Your resume was filled with credentials and financial help from the very best and slowly, the Entertainment Industry started to set their eyes on you, hiring you to work their PR and to manage their celebrities and artists.

It had taken a while, but now you had the financial means and street name to take and own your clientele.

And it was a very impressive clientele, ranging from professional Entertainment company owners to famous artists. Your last client, Kim Jennie had hired you to manage her entire American tour and it had pulled off spectacularly. Grateful and leaving with a good bond, she’d offered you a nice long vacation period and you’d accepted generously.

You’d now have to deposit the money in the bank, you decided, your brain categorizing your work now that you had some to do again.

You loved your work, no denying it, since it kept you within the world of the stars but there was always the exhaustion and dealing with things that put many a dark circles under your eyes.

Deciding to forego sleep for the time being and adding it to the contract you’d draw up; you pushed away the blankets, reaching for the laptop on the other side of the bed.

Yes, the other side of your king sized bed was taken up by the only significant other you had in your life right now; work. It was the mark of how you lived in opulence by working your ass off.

An hour on the laptop later, the money you’d earned from Jennie and the vacation pay off were safely in your growing bank account and after signing off at various charities that you supported, you’d turned to searching for the name you were going to work for next: Kim Taehyung.

You had heard of him of course, everyone had.

Kim Taehyung was an extremely established person in the world of the performing arts. He was an actor, model, singer, photographer and painter. He was basically an all rounder in the entertainment world and his company, Big Hit raked in tons of money from his endeavors alone.

He ranked on the list of richest men and the most handsome faces every year, not to mention he was the supreme dream boat, wet dream to the collective female population of the world.

He was too good to be true to be very honest.

But you…you were privy to the news from the underbelly of the entertainment world and yes, you knew for a fact that he was too good to be true.

Kim Taehyung was absolutely filthy and you weren’t talking about his money or looks.

From what the whispering mouths of his staff relayed to their friends and they relayed to their friends, Kim Taehyung was a serial womanizer, flirted with anything that moved and was the epitome of an inappropriate spoiled brat.

That told you everything you needed to know about people like him: talent wasn’t shit if the package was rotten.

And you were about to be employed to him…

If you were a masochist, you’d agree with Mil and enjoy being employed by a giant douche, but you could already see the massive amount of control you’d have to have over the contract and the man himself. Reeling him in would be cheaper than the damage control he did probably.

You lingered on a particular picture of him, maybe by a fan cam in which he was just turning, giving a glorious view of his profile, chiseled and drool worthy.

You idly wondered how many pregnancy scares and blackmail he handled on the daily basis then shuddered, putting the thought away until you had to be the one doing it for him.

Basically Kim Taehyung was Tony Stark before Iron Man and Pepper Potts.

You were not happy at that prospect at all.

The marble flooring of the halls of Big Hit echoed the sounds of your footsteps way too loud for your sleep deprived ears as you marched your way down to the main office for the contract negotiation.

You were dressed as austerely as possible, your outfit reminiscent of a funeral but you did not want to encourage any nonsense from the lawyers.

If the man was as bad as rumors denoted, you had to be very cautious in what the lawyers tried to lure you in. you planned to be the one with the higher hand in every key of the contract and you weren’t going to take no for an answer.

Your hand reached out for the steel handle to the double doors and you pushed it open, sticking your head around the corner.

To your relief, your lawyer was already present inside, staring out the glass windows. At the other side of the long pale wood table sat two more suited men, one flipping through a black folder and another murmuring to the first one. They looked up at your entrance and the cursory frown vanished from their faces.

“Ah, you must be Miss Y/L/N,” the first stood up, making your lawyer turn to look at you too.

Park Chanyeol walked over to you, hand emerging from his pocket to encase yours.

“Y/N,” he said warmly and you returned the handshake, smiling up at him.

“Bet you weren’t expecting that call, huh?” You asked.

“Well, you’re my friend before my client and although I wish you would take some time off, I can’t deny your workaholic self pays my bills.” He chuckled before lowering his voice. “Still, I wasn’t expecting this.” he said.

“Blame it on too much stress and not enough rest.” You returned, eyeing the men watching you two.

“You’re only going to get more stress with this one.” He warned.

“That’s why you’re here.” you told him, dropping his hand to finally face Big Hit’s lawyer.

“Hello, my name is Y/N Y/L/N,” You said, forwarding your hand to shake theirs and the other man took it first, looking at you curiously.

“You’re quite young, if you don’t mind me saying so. When we got your references, I pictured you older.” He said.

“Yes, I get that a lot but trust me; I probably look older than I am. The type of work I do tends to do that to you.” you said, shrugging.

“I’m sure it does,” the man laughed. “I’m Bang Sihyuk, owner and CEO of Big Hit Entertainment.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” you said, looking at the other man who took your hand next.

“Park Jinyoung, pleasure’s all mine, and what exactly would you say you do?” he asked.

You flashed him a wide grin, glad he wanted to get to the point fast. “Everything that is needed to be done,” you replied.

A flash of confusion passed his face and he glanced at his boss before gesturing for us to take the chairs.

“I’m a little confused. I thought you were a manager.” He said, pulling out a pen and clicking it open.

Chanyeol took the seat beside me as we faced them.

“That’s correct. My primary work function is of a manager but I do more than just managerial duties. I’ve broadened a few of my horizons and now I can also assist, handle public relations, the image of a person and assorted media duties.” You said, watching him raise his eyebrows, making a small note in the folder.

“Provided it is only one person, she is not going to offer more services if more than one party are involved.” Chanyeol put in quickly and Jinyoung nodded.

“Naturally,”

“Miss Y/L/N, as I have it, you are the replacement Mil is offering in return for giving her notice, as a forward on her clause of duties? To be honest, you’re a little over qualified to be working a temporary job.” Jinyoung said.

“I’m not going to work a temp job. I will take the job of permanent staff for the contractual period.” You explained and both men exchanged looks.

“I have the initial draw of the contract my client wishes to present.” Chanyeol indicated the folder in front of Jinyoung who nodded reading through it again.

“Most of the keys benefit you,” he shot at you and I smiled at sweetly as I could.

“Well, I was supposed to be on vacation and I’m doing this as a favor especially for a man who is known for being troublesome.” You leant back in your seat. Jinyoung opened his mouth but Sihyuk made a motion.

“That’s acceptable; we could use someone of your caliber in this position. I just hope you can handle it.” Sihyuk sighed and I immediately knew that Taehyung was more than a handful.

And speaking of the devil…

The doors flung open and a loud cry of ‘Please, Mr. Kim!’ announced the arrival of Kim Taehyung himself.

“Hey people!”

You turned to get the first in person look at Kim Taehyung and you had to say, you were pretty freaking impressed.

The tall dark haired man, his sleek built emphasized by the expensive sweater and jeans would’ve been enough to catch eyes but the face was where your eyes stopped.

You could’ve spent hours describing Kim Taehyung but you decided to categorize his face in one department: Fucking Gorgeous.  

He grinned widely, a boxy smile revealing teeth as he beamed good naturedly at the group of people collected in the room and for a second you doubted everything you’d ever heard about the man. Surely this beautiful angel of a man with that childlike smile and twinkle in his eyes couldn’t be as devilish as the tabloids and his own staff bemoaned.

“I heard you were getting me a new babysitter and I couldn’t sit this one out. The last one left me high and dry.”

The doubts cleared from your mind like someone wiped them over with a wet cloth and your lips pursed at the blatant innuendo. You knew that Mil was definitely a woman of honor and wouldn’t have encouraged any sexual harassment. So, that rested your mind that Kim wouldn’t be used to something like that but with that face you knew he got enough sex.

Mr. Sihyuk winced loudly and gave you an apologetic look.

“Taehyung, this is Y/N Y/L/N, she has agreed to take you on a client in Mil’s absence.” He introduced and Taehyung swung around to look at you.

You watched him blankly as he took you from head to toe, clicking his tongue once.

“She’s pretty but eh,” he loudly whispered to Jinyoung, making your eyes flit to him in reflex and to maybe also see his reaction to understand if you were going to be cornered against Kim Taehyung.

If that was the case, with everyone taking the corner of their Golden Child and ganging up on you, you were glad that Taehyung had shown up. This would give you a feel for your colleagues and you’d walk away with zero hesitation, saving yourself and the people working for you, like Chanyeol some major headache.

Jinyoung for his part only looked away from Taehyung, choosing to instead flip through your contract and avoid everyone’s gaze.

There was a pause in which everyone waited for a reaction, something to explode maybe, for the ball to drop.

Taehyung was blatantly grinning at his CEO who looked uncomfortable and both lawyers looked away from everyone, Chanyeol already looking like he wanted to be dead asleep while you chose to simply watch Taehyung.

His stance was easy as if he’d been in this position tons of time, CEO in the room and people’s discomfort choking the air. He was obviously spoilt by everyone because even though nobody wanted to say it out loud, he paid everyone’s bills in the company and lorded over the fact that he was their most important piece, the other artists simply pawns on the chessboard.

He was basically one of the sons of your earlier powerful bosses, who seemed to think they had some right over you because you worked for their fathers. Well, he was only… ‘More’…

So, if that’s how he wanted to play this…

“If you’re looking for the sexual harassment clause it’s at the very end.” You spoke up, arms resting gently on the chair handle and legs crossed, leaning back easily to display a position of power, of detachment.

Mr. Sihyuk immediately spluttered, Jinyoung sighed and Taehyung raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t usually put one of those in a first draft contract, I usually feel out the place and people before going to that but I’m sure you’ll understand why I made an exception in this case.” You said.

Mr. Sihyuk was already opening his mouth to protest but I ran over him, turning to Taehyung instead.

“You just made my foresight worth the time, Mr. Kim.”

“Miss Y/L/N, I assure you,” Mr. Sihyuk began but this time it was Taehyung who cut him off.

“Calling someone pretty is inappropriate now?” he asked.

“Certainly not, but whatever else you had in mind definitely would’ve been. This just ensures that we both keep our minds on work.”

You turned to look at Chanyeol.

“I think we have what we need.” You said and he nodded, swiping the drafted copy from under Jinyoung’s fingers.

“I can have the final contract done and ready to sign by both parties by the end of the week.” He said.

You looked at Bang Sihyuk who glanced back at Jinyoung and then nodded.

“That works for us. Welcome to Big Hit, Y/N.” he said.

You nodded and were about to turn to Chanyeol to leave when a hand forwarded itself into your line of sight. You followed it to see your prospective charge, eyeing you with a decided gleam in his eye.

“I’m going to enjoy working with you, Miss Y/L/N.” he said, his voice dripping with courtesy.

You stared at him for a full half minute before taking his hand in a grip that was harder than necessary. “I look forward to it.” you grinned, revealing your teeth just as he had done and you swore you saw his eyes briefly flash to your mouth, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as he pulled away.

“Y/N,” Chanyeol said and you nodded, following him as he opened the door for you, letting you out of the conference room.

You could feel Kim Taehyung’s eyes boring into the back of your head but you could only smirk.

If that’s how he wanted to play this…you were game.

The loud cheering from the arena perforated the concrete walls of the stage building, letting everyone hear the craze that Big Hit’s concerts generated in – what was the number? – Thousands of people, maybe even millions…

You picked up your phone to check the time, wincing at the horrifying hour and then reminded yourself that in a few minutes Taehyung would be on the stage and you would have some time to at least make a coffee run.

Your contract had been that of the lowest possible time period, since you were one of the most sought after Managers in the industry, your demand had risen till it had started to stress you out, forcing you to increase your time period working for one person or company at a time. Before you were with one job for just two years minimum but not you stayed for five years.

This allowed you a lot of time to get comfortable with your work and employer and also let you earn enough to give you some time off for at least a month or so.

However now that you were tied to Big Hit and Kim Taehyung for five years, it seemed that Taehyung was hell bent on making those five years as nerve racking and ragged for you as possible.

He made you come for him during hellish hours of the night and morning, just because he wanted supplies that he left or forgot and he got struck with inspiration.

He had stupid demands as to his diets and drinks and you’d caught him devouring a whole fried chicken bucket when he’d sent you to get him a cherry tomato salad. On confronting, he’d mocked you on how you’d been too late.

It had taken you a few weeks to figure out a pattern for Taehyung’s seemingly unpredictable antics and whims.

You started to be more prepared and kept anything and everything that he could ask for close at hand, foodstuffs, drinks, etc. when he called you about wanting supplies for his art, you happily told him you stocked up his house full of those and then hung up on him. He’d stopped calling after a few weeks of that. If he wanted to ruin his outfits ‘accidentally’ and wanted the exact outfit, you always had a replica and if he tried to frighten a poor stylist into changing his outfit at the very last minute, you stepped in almost harshly, crushing his dreams of seeing the girl squeak in fear.

Now after six months, he was still as annoying, spoilt, and bratty and showed zero change in attitude but you’d learned to grit your teeth and grin and just handle it, quickly and swiftly detracting his idiosyncrasies and phases. You still got sick and tired of him but he’d learned to mellow down nowadays, quietly agreeing to what you told him and not throwing as many tantrums as he used to.

A few girls from the staff had complimented you on your iron fist on the wild man but you knew better.

Taehyung was still flirty, teasing, and touchy to a limit that just drew the line at your clause of sexual harassment and that glint you’d caught in his eye that first day never dimmed whenever he set his eyes on you, followed by a boxy grin that was still reminiscent of an adorable child’s.

No, Kim Taehyung was a caged tiger and he was just looking for a way to escape your iron fist.

You sighed when the crowd cheering increased, almost shaking the foundations of the building, which meant that Taehyung had made it to the stage.

Sure enough, you heard his deep bass voice calling for a louder cheer and the usual babble of ‘I can’t hear you’ and ‘you can do betters’.

“Hey, Y/N,” you looked up with a tired smile at one of the other managers of the singers with Big Hit.

“You look like hell, you should go home.” She said, concerned.

“Oh, I’ll just get a coffee,” you waved it away but she just shook her head.

“No, no, you look almost dead on your feet and I know Taehyung is more than two handfuls. You go on home now, I’ll take care of everything here.” she said.

“It’s Taehyung,” You reminded her pointedly and she gave you a grim smile which showed that she knew exactly what she going into.

“I know that but if you fall ill then we’ll have to deal with him longer. Just take some downtime and get back soon. He’s a lot more amenable when you’re around and he won’t be as good a boy with you sick or gone too long.” She said.

You stared at her to see if she meant what she was saying before rubbing your eyes and nodding.

“You’re sure?” You asked one last time.

“Yes! Go girl, and hurry back,” she said and without another word you grabbed your bags and hurried out, the work car Big Hit had given you for privacy and protection already waiting for you at the front door.

You nodded at the driver’s question about heading home and shot a text to Taehyung’s phone, notifying him that you were leaving and that you weren’t feeling up to more work tonight.

You just hoped he would understand although you didn’t let yourself hope too much.

So imagine your surprise when you managed to spend an entire night with no calls from Kim Taehyung and his unreasonable demands. All except a somewhat grumpy message telling you to take the weekend off but show up at his place first thing on the next work day.

“…And to the most courageous person we know, a toast to honor her patience!”

Your head turned as one of your friends made a loud crowing call, the table you were sitting at with your friends in your favorite club rearing with supportive cheers as they all raised their glasses.

As per Taehyung’s text, you had taken a whole of two days off, an invitation from all your very busy and hard working friends to join them for long overdue drinks being the only thing that dragged you out of your bed.

You laughed as Chanyeol and Mil let out loud cries of ‘Hear, hear!’ and banged their fists on the table.

“Hats off to you, babe, I would not know how to handle him for five fucking years!” Jae told you.

“It’s the lowest number of years I have to work, you guys!” You returned.

“Doesn’t matter; anyone who willingly signs up with Kim Taehyung is a saint!” Mil said, immediately getting hushed by your more sober friends.

His name ringing outside would get your band of friends’ attention you didn’t want and would also lead to an article that could get you all kicked out.

“So, Y/N, what’s your secret, yoga?” Jae continued.

“Nope, I just learnt how to manage him.” You winked for their benefit and the buzzed crowd erupted again.

“Aww, sounds like someone has a wee little soft spot for their new manager.” One of the girls teased Mil who scoffed.

“Honestly, I don’t mind him having a crush on Y/N, as long as he doesn’t make me get up at 2 AM just to get him a fucking berry smoothie.” Mil shuddered amid sympathetic noises.

“Y/N, what would you do if he did have soft spot for you?” Chanyeol wiggled his eyebrows, teasing you about the spectacle Taehyung had created during your first meeting.

“Does it matter? I need money, not boys. I think I can work something.” You replied.

“Be careful though, he’s a vindictive jackass. Do you know one of his stylists once told him blue wouldn’t be a good color on him and he dyed his hair blue! He did it, literally out of the blue!” Mil said.

“I saw those pictures, he looked good,” Jae said.

There was a pause in which everyone turned to look at Jae who looked up from his glass at us then shrugged. “What, the dude may be an ass but he’s also got a great ass. You’d have to be blind and dumb to not want yourself a piece of that.” He said.

There was another, longer pause as people considered what he just said then shrugged too, picking up their glasses to swig at them.

“Well, he’s not wrong.” One of your friends mumbled, making Mil choke and splutter.

“Excuse you, no, no he’s wrong! You do not want to be anywhere near that, no matter how hot he is. Trust me, as someone who’s been through all his dirty fucking laundry, he’s got some very bad shit going on with himself.”

“Does he not have a dick?” Chanyeol asked, making Mil grimace at him.

“No, that he does, I’m just saying he’s not very concerned with what and who he sticks it in.” Mil said.

“Aww, Mil, don’t judge a guy for having sex.” Jae groaned.

“The woman turned out to be a Sasaeng who had stalked him before. He was too drunk to recognize her and when he woke up next to her in the morning he made me come over to make her leave because she wouldn’t. She hit me and left a bruise and also stole a few of his clothes. We had to track her and bury the issue. It took me weeks.” Mil said, anger slurring her words as she glared at Jae so hard he cowered.

She turned to me.

“He hasn’t done Sasaengs in a while now but still, he’s the worst dick you could want in you. I won’t say he’s a walking STD, but,” she shrugged as if that was exactly what she was saying.

Your friends took a minute to process this before a girl beside Jae piped up.

“I heard he wasn’t always that bad.” She said, swirling the glass in her hand as she nervously spoke up.

Mil looked at her as if she was going to say something but then nodded.

“One of my seniors was a supervisor to the current Head Stylist of Big Hit and when a lot of scandals with Taehyung dropped I heard her talking about how he was a lot better when he was a trainee.” The girl continued before looking up, cheeks reddening.

“I heard her talking about the woman who scouted him and then ruined him.”

You clinked your nails against the tip of your glass, already wondering if you were going to regret hearing this, but you were too enthralled, too interested in the underlying notes of your boss to care.

The girl stopped, perhaps for effect and the taps of your nails hardened, waiting impatiently for her to speak up.

“Has anyone heard of Yubin?”

For a second, a brief vision of a tall, beautiful woman rose up in your brain, too vague and distorted from years of unheard from absence.

People exchanged looks before Mil rolled her eyes.

“Yes, I knew Yubin, just as she retired.”

“She didn’t retire. She just stopped working.” The girl countered.

“Nobody cares, what of her?” Jae cut in.

“Well, she’s from Daegu, right, that was where she found Taehyung. She was appearing at her university and met him and brought him to Seoul to train. I don’t know when or how they must’ve started dating but once they did, he started to become moody and reserved. Soon enough they announced that they were dating and I think Taehyung was close to proposing but they broke up and she disappeared. Apparently it broke him. So he went off on a long, long bender and came back with this whole persona.”

Your clinking stopped as you went over the information, trying to match it from any article you might’ve read. This was all still back when you were in the business circles and didn’t keep up much with the entertainment side of life.

“Now Taehyung is the biggest star there is and she’s nowhere to be found.” The girl finished.

You dropped your gaze to the table, realizing you had been just made privy to information about your boss that he might not want you to know, something private from a older colleague of Taehyung had just been passed around as Over the Table gossip.

“Well, guys, it’s time for me to go, I’m supposed to start work and I’d rather not go in to him with a hangover.”

“Don’t be surprised if he has one too,” Mil said, standing up to hug you as you passed through goodnights and ‘see you later’ from the rest of the table.

You groaned with relief as you pulled off your heeled boots, flopping down into the plush of your couch and leaning your head back, eyes closed as you rolled your feet to work out the tension from having been in the death traps you wore.

Your mind was screaming at the thought of having to turn up at Taehyung’s penthouse in the morning but this was what you had signed up for.

Wondering what terror he has planned for you for taking time off, you removed what was left of your make up and showered.

The ding of your phone on the counter notified you of a text and you hurriedly exited, wrapping yourself in a towel and checking it.

The appearance of Taehyung’s face on the screen, made you gasp, pulling away and tightening your grip on the towel, thinking he’d video called you. It wasn’t until you noticed the play button on the tip of his nose that you realized it was a video message.

Grumbling at the scare, you pressed it, watching Taehyung as he adjusted himself in bed, hair tousled and cheeks flushed. Your first thought was whether he’d sent you a post jacking off video accidentally until he opened his mouth, the familiar grin and wicked glint filling his eyes as he finally turned his attention to the camera of the phone.

I hope you had a good weekend, Miss Y/L/N. I expect you to come for me bright and early tomorrow.

You raised your eyebrows as he paused unnecessarily after ‘come for me’ and rolled your eyes as he ended the video with a wink and bite of him lips, the screen darkening with a replay sign on it that you ignored.

Was it really a persona? Or had fame finally made its way to Kim Taehyung’s mind and it was a fantasy of women who wanted to ‘fix’ him?

Maybe you’d never know.

As expected of you, the next morning you arrived at Taehyung’s palatial building with a very mild throb in your head that you were sure would go away with a little TLC.

Flashing your ID at the front desk, you waited for the elevator to ding at Taehyung’s floor, your head idly lying against the cool metal, wondering what you were going to be greeted with it when you set foot on his granite flooring.

The image of Taehyung with mussed hair and swollen lips certainly made you wonder if he had been alone or even if he was then what he had been doing, a thought that you had jolted yourself out of in horror. Shaking your head like a dog, you a straightened as the ding in the metal box indicated you were where you had to be.

You poked your head out, looking around to see the spacious first floor seemingly empty and stepped out.

“Mr. Kim, it’s me,” you called.

Walking with an almost relieved sigh to his seating, you dumped the bags you were carrying onto the couches.

At first thought, anyone would think that Taehyung’s house would be cool and chic like how he acted or if the people who he interacted with had to guess, it would be something out of the Fifty Shades setting. However, you had been pleasantly surprised to see that Taehyung’s personal space was very homey and cozy, decorated tastefully in equal measures of colors, austere, wood, metal and stone.

The living room had floor to ceiling windows that depicted a stunning profile of the Seoul skyline and often times that you’d been there with him droning on you’d found yourself gazing out of them, soaking in the sight that your windows, though decent and well paid for, were unable to offer you.

You were well off and doing damn good, you just weren’t there yet to purchase a pent house, so this was your closest best bet.

“I know,” you heard him say from behind you and turned, immediately freezing to see him walk downstairs, in a loose set of tracks and his torso bare.

“Good…morning,” you said, looking over his shoulder, waiting for his conquest of the night to come downstairs but it wasn’t until he’d reached the bottom stairs and walked over to you, visage similar to the video he’d sent that you realized that he’d come alone.

“Waiting for someone?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder as well.

Busted…

“Is there someone I should be waiting for? Or rather, be prepared for…?” you countered and Taehyung smirked.

“I would like to see that, how you prepare for one of my one night stands.” He replied, taking a step closer and you rolled your eyes, feeling the throb in your head increase.

Great that was a no go for that TLC.

“Unless you bring home some psycho who I have to sue then you won’t be seeing much.” you said, about to turn around before pausing.

“Have you even taken a shower?” you asked.

Taehyung gave you a level look. “I haven’t slept with anyone, Y/N.” he said, voice grumbling again and you shrugged, digging around in one of the bags for his fresh laundry. You tossed him a clean white shirt.

For his part, Taehyung looked equal parts amused and annoyed with you as usual as you sat in your spot, where you could watch the view clearly before pulling out your phone.

“Any particular reason why you called me in so early…? You know, aside from bringing you your laundry, because delivery costs you so much.”

“Delivery people aren’t nearly as cute as you,” Taehyung teased, a quirk to his thinner upper lip that you didn’t deign to acknowledge. “I’ve got an invitation. It’s for the Film Festival. I’m sure Big Hit would tell you to take care of it anyway but I wanted to let you know about the details. I don’t want you to screw anything up.”

You gave him a venomous smile.

“As you wish, Mr. Kim,”

Your employer looked dubiously at you for a long while before shrugging, seating himself opposite you and pushing a docket of pamphlets at you. Spying the name Film Fest on it you carefully began to arrange them, studying each paper with a keen gaze and making notes in your phone about changes or payments that you were sure you needed to have done.

The Film Festival was one of the big events in the entertainment world, picking exotic or picturesque locations to invite local and international stars to grace its carpets, screenings and preview nights one of the candies offered while the earnings off of the event itself could feed a large family for a year.

It was mega huge to be invited, and of course Kim Taehyung would be on the list.

Taehyung lounged in the armchair opposite you, eyeing you with interest, watching you work for him.

“How have you been?” he asked suddenly.

Your attention diverted for a second, fingers pausing in their busy work of noting down important information as you shot him a puzzled look.

“Your health, you were sick.” He clarified

A delicate snort rose up to your lips but you quelled it in the last minute, instead choosing to shrug your shoulders as you returned to the papers in your hands.

“I’m fine now,” you said quietly, finally closing you notes app and shuffling the sheets so they would stay in a proper sequence.

“What happened to you?” he demanded next.

“I work, Mr. Kim, I get tired. I needed a little time off. You were generous to provide that, thank you.” you said, wondering if he could sense the underlying tones of sarcasm to your voice but if he did he didn’t give much of an indication.

“Well, I suppose there’s a clause about overworking you in that damn contract of yours.” Taehyung’s upper lip curled ever so slightly and while you’d have taken offense to the derogatory tone, you instead chose to grin.

“I’m glad to see you at least hold something for law, Mr. Kim.” You commented.

Taehyung’s curled lips furled even further, his eyes dropping to your mouth blatantly as he contemplated how to answer for the fact that he’d had a lot of brushes with the law than most celebrities had to.

“You should call me by my name more often. Don’t call me Mr. Kim, it feels weird.” He said instead.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Your staff calls you Mr. Kim,” you reminded him and he waves his hand to dismiss it.

“They don’t see me every day; they don’t have access to me 24/7. You…do, and you take care of more of my shit than they do. I guess that means you deserve to get some added bonuses.” He leans his head back to look at you as you slowly ran your eyes over his frame.

Six months of close contact with him had very nearly made you privy to almost all his looks ranging from Stage Taehyung to Screen Taehyung to Shit Taehyung. For all his good points, he had about twice the bad ones but even with this info lodged firmly inside your brain you couldn’t stop yourself from checking him out occasionally.

You couldn’t help yourself.

It wasn’t a lie that Kim Taehyung was probably the most beautiful, the hottest man to ever step foot on the planet and if he was going to be a douche most of the time the least he could do was be eye candy for the female population that worked for him.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to walk through your work place and over hear some girl who was freshly inducted, moan about wanting him to do things to her that would curl cheese. Then there were the women who’d been around a while and wanted nothing more than to fuck him for all the frustration he caused them.

You prided yourself on not falling in either of the categories.

You weren’t a newbie who wanted Taehyung to pin you to the nearest wall and have his way with you and you also weren’t the older women who gossiped at the coffee station about wanting to get fucked by him just because his piss off behaviors grated your motors.

Instead, if anything, you kept your mind on just how good he looked.

If late night imagination had to be blamed, you wanted him to decorate your floor, begging forgiveness and atoning for being a grade ‘A’ bastard.

Even now, with the way his body almost sprawled over the expensive faux leather covering of his couch, his eyes watching yours rake over him, taking in the bulges, dips and curves of his body, you would rather only stare from a distance than ever get physically involved.

Nope, late night imaginations would be what you left it at.

“I know that if looks could kill, you wouldn’t ever need a gun but darling that is definitely not the way to do it.”

Your eyes snapped back to his, reflecting the dark pools fixed on you till you finally straightened your posture, slipping the sheets into their respective folders and standing up, grabbing your purse.

Taehyung didn’t stand with you, choosing to gloss his eyes up your body with a blatantly hungry look on his face that you ignored.

It was only because he wasn’t getting laid with whatever he found crawling in the streets ever since you’d become his manager.

“If that would be all, Taehyung, I’ll leave now. You can come to the office to finalize the details of the itinerary and other matters. I’ll see you there.” You said, walking around him to get to the elevator.

You weren’t expecting him to follow you but when the elevator dinged its arrival and you entered, turning to face the front again, you found Taehyung standing right there, hands deep in the pockets of his sweatpants, a subtle smirk gracing his lips.

“Oh, you’ll see me, Y/N.” he said.

You blinked at him in confusion as he reached in, pressing the button to the lower level and pulled back, twirling his fingers in a goodbye, accompanying it with a ducky kiss face and a smarmy wink.

The doors closed, the mirrored walls, showing you the blank look on your face. It took you a second but you finally let the scoff that had been building inside you out, echoing in the metal box.

You’d just allowed your boss to successfully flirt with you, you scolded yourself.

Ah relax, it’s not like you encouraged him or lead him on. He’s just frustrated and maybe even lonely. It’s just horny male hormones. You reasoned with yourself.

In the mirror, you met your eyes with pursed lips, giving yourself a small nod as you set your reasons within stone.

He was just horny.

He was just horny and trying to mess with you.

You told yourself that you weren’t taken in by his antics. Nope, nothing like that at all but even as you entered your workplace amid new rumors; you had to digress to listening to a few of those.

As much as you liked to keep your work clean of these things, even you had to learn to make friends for a smoother run of time.

Of course, being the centre of those rumors was what bothered you.

Conversation ceased when you entered the break room, your eyes flitting towards the suddenly flushing girls as you walked to the deluxe coffee machine, starting it on the job of pouring out some delicious coffee.

The gazes of the whispering interns bored at you, making you wince in irritation as you walked to the group of stylists you hung out with.

“Hyelim, any idea why the glossy eyed dames over there are eyeing me?” you asked straightforwardly.

The five girls made space for you to sit on the couch as Hyelim rolled her eyes.

“Don’t be so concerned about that. These girls almost always have something to gossip over.” She waved a hand dismissively but Jay-eon interrupted.

“It’s because of Taehyung, of course!” she said.

You sighed. “What did he do now?”

“Nothing personally bad, but his actions were pretty…obvious, the day of the show.” She mumbled.

You waited as they exchanged meaningful glances.

“Taehyung was pretty…antsy, when he came back off the stage and you weren’t there. When Leda told him that you weren’t feeling well and went home, he mellowed. That’s sparked some flints.”

“What kind of flints?” you asked; already dreading the answer.

“That Taehyung likes you,” Hyelim answered and you immediately snorted.

“Oh please, nothing like that is remotely possible, especially since if Taehyung is making my life hell, I’m repaying him the favor equally.” You laughed.

However, even as you conducted the Festival meeting, feeling Taehyung’s more than lustful gaze landing on you more often than not, you had to shake that thought off, reminding yourself of the conclusion you’d reached in his elevator.

“You want to visit family?” you asked, following the tall man out of the back door of the entrance, quickly making it to the front of him and looking around to check whether anybody was lurking out there or not.

Taehyung chuckled as you put a hand up to his chest to block him, head turning around. Pressing your hand closer to his, he nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me this at your place?” you demanded.

“Because if I had,” he paused when you wrenched your hand from under his, pouting, “You’d have found some way to counter it,” he finished.

His BMW rounded the corner and you both sighed in relief as the driver quickly opened the door for you two. Letting him go ahead, you shut the door as the driver pulled out of the alley.

“I’m not a cold hearted bitch, Mr. Kim. I wouldn’t get in the way of you seeing your family.” you told him.

Taehyung didn’t comment on it the whole way as you made it to his building.

“Thanks, I guess,” he mumbled, half to himself.

You decided to ignore the quiver in his voice.

“Just tell me ahead of time so I can make better plans, ok? You springing that out in the middle of the meeting did no one any good.” You said.

Taehyung shrugged before opening his door.

“Take the car for today. You can bring it to the airport with the driver tomorrow. Oh and, pack something hot.” He said, winking and your expression turned sour as he gave you the same blow-kiss again, shutting the door blatantly in your face.

You let out an irritated gruff.

“What an ass,” you said out loud, only realizing that it was Taehyung’s driver in the car, not yours. You shot him a wide-eyed sheepish look as his eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror. He gave you a sympathetic grin which had you sagging back into your seat.

“Your home, ma’am?” he asked and you muttered a ‘yes, please,’ turning to look out of the window, wondering what was going to happen tomorrow.

All was set.

You stared around your now spotless home, critical of the way you’d cleaned and packed up your essentials in your luggage set, you went to pick up your phone to check the time.

You had awoken well ahead of the time you needed to, laying awake in bed for a few minutes to see if you would get back to sleep again. At failure to do that, you decided to start on early.

Showering, taking care of bodily needs and beauty, you made a nice, wholesome breakfast even though one would be served on Big Hit’s private jet. Tasting spice content off your thumb, you’d rung up Taehyung and Taehyung’s driver as an impromptu wakeup call, before focusing on the chicken mince and eggs, you’d made for yourself.

At 8 sharp, with your luggage placed near the door, you’d spent an hour cleaning, dusting off the curtains and scrubbing the kitchen, just for the sake of the relief of coming back to a neat and tidy house when Taehyung’s driver had called you saying he was waiting downstairs.

Your flat heeled boots carried you to the gates of the terminal Big Hit used for its jet when you heard the gasping and sudden uproar.

Pushing your glasses closer, you squinted at the massive crowd, groaning internally when you felt your employer push himself to a faster pace, walking closer to his fans, the screaming doubling in noise as he reached over the security borders to grab a few hands while the other signed autographs.

You lingered behind, an eye on your watch as the seconds ticked away.

It wasn’t until he had given ten minutes of attention to the galore of girls and boys who would, in different circumstances, be paying through the nose for this chance that you nodded at his bodyguard to bring him back over to you.

The arrival of the Pilot, who gave you a warm handshake and introduced you to the air stewardesses and stewards, was a blessing as Taehyung, with a final wave to his fans moved after you to the ramp of the plane.

You had been inside a few private jets in your life, some business mogul or the other needing to take you with them to an abroad meeting or some such other thing.

However, you had to admit that Big Hit’s jet, by far, won hands down.

The inside was a startling white, with cream and dark brown fittings. There was a small fireplace in the corner near the entrance, the counter curving to show off a discreet bar.

The small walkway was dotted with a few small tables, the biggest one, and right at the back, surrounded by a circular couch. You chose to sit in one of the double seats, your purse dropped into the side seat as you watched the runway from the oval windows.

After a few minutes, Taehyung followed, huge shades covering his face as his lips quirked at the sight of the inside.

“Ah, I hope they stocked up.” He said, head turning to the bar when you stopped paying him any attention, instead looking at the Pilot who walked in.

“Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Kim, we’ve had your luggage brought to the jet. Would you want it in with you or would you like us to put it in the storage?” he asked respectfully.

You looked at Taehyung who grinned at the man.

“Have it brought here, buddy,” he said and the Pilot bowed again before exiting.

For a few minutes as you watched the trolley of luggage being carried up, Taehyung chose to raid the bar, going around to the tender’s place and reading through the labels.

“You know drinks?” you asked, suspiciously as he pulled out a few bottles, inspecting them closely. Taehyung glanced once over at you before turning back.

“I might have some ideas.” He muttered.

You stared at his back, tight muscles covered by the expensive jacket, dark hair brushing his nape. A split second view of his hair wrapped around your fingers made you look away quickly to the stewardess who entered.

“We’re ready for takeoff, Ma’am, please take your seats.” She said.

You sat down, complying with the order, and both sets of eyes went to the man who continued to stand.

“Um, sir, we’re taking off. Please take a seat and fasten your seat belts.” She said again.

You looked at the girl to see flushed cheeks, a wistful, yearning look in her eyes and nearly face palmed yourself. Great, another one of Taehyung’s conquests…

“Taehyung, please sit, we have a schedule to keep.” You snapped out.

The stewardess jumped at your tone and looked down as the man himself turned to raise his eyebrows at you. “Don’t you want a drink?” he asked innocently.

“You can make whatever you want once in the air. Now sit,” you sighed.

Taehyung clicked his tongue, reluctantly shoving the bottles back and exiting the bar, walking over to the seats without casting a single glance at the other female in the area who wilted at his ignorance.

You kept staring at her, not noticing Taehyung reach for the bag you’d placed next to you and drop it to the seat behind you, plopping down beside you.

You flinched just barely as the stewardess went through the safety instructions, seeing as you were travelling with them for the first time. Her voice was mellow, quiet and neither of you paid any attention to her as she scurried away finally to her own seat as the plane began to taxi.

The next hour of the flight after takeoff was spent in reading from your tablet as Taehyung fluttered about the jet. He mixed a few drinks which he offered to you.

Peering up at him, you sipped delicately at one, finding it decent but refused a second one, making Taehyung sag a tiny little as he meandered about.

“What about my staff?” he asked suddenly.

“The festival management is providing your lodging and a select branch of staff. Outfits, stylists and media will all be funded from their side. You only need to go and be there to look pretty. I’m coming because I’m your manager.” You answered mechanically, answers ready to spout off.

“I…I can’t stay at home?” he asked again.

“No, aside from the fact that it will cause security problems, it will also be tedious for your family to have a gaggle of people show up at your place every day.” You answered again.

Taehyung fiddled with another bottle for a second before coming back to drop down next to you, jolting your arm. You gave him a look, crossing your legs and tilting your body away to protect some of your private space that Taehyung’s broad frame now occupied.

He sighed, playing with his clothes, twiddling his thumbs. It was clear there was something weighing on his mind but you made no move to put him at ease, resolutely poring over the news article.

“God, stop,” you whined at length as he continued to jump his leg, bumping it against your ankle.

“I wanted to…you know, say thank you,” he blurted out, making you pause and your eyebrows to jump up at the exclamation.

“What for?” you asked.

“You…uh, you let me go see my family.” he explained but you didn’t change your expression, prodding him to go further.

He took the bait, looking down at his knees as he played Thumb War with himself.

“I don’t really get to see them. Very rarely, since either I’m busy or you know…security reasons,” he pursed his lips a little. “Most of the managers tried to get out of the hectic work that involved me getting some time off just to see my folks. So they never let me go plus the company always has something for me to do.” He shrugged before looking up at me.

“I miss them a lot and I hate it more than I let on. So…thank you,” he said.

You blinked before nodding.

“Like I said, I’m not going to stop you from seeing you family, Mr. Kim. Everyone needs that.” You said.

“Exactly, that’s why I said so in the meeting. I realized that if anybody could pull it off, it would be you. I trust you.” He gave you his patent boxy grin, causing a questionable swoop in your stomach.

“Right,” you said weakly.

“I’ll go take a nap, in the room. Feel free to join me if you want.” He laughed a little and took off.

Somehow, you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel disgusted by the innuendo.

Your arrival to Daegu airport was wrought with extra caffeine and a still sleepy Taehyung.

For anyone asking, sleepy Taehyung was overly snuggly – a trait you found endearing if not a little mind wracking as he managed to clutch on to you the whole way from the runway to the departure portal.

“Mr. Shin?” you questioned as the man with the stern façade approached you.

“Yes, you must be Miss Y/L/N,” he said, shaking your hand. “We’ve heard a lot about you.” he said.

“Thank you, do you have somewhere I could stash him at?” you asked, tired and exhausted at hauling your charge. He easily had ten inches on you.

Shin looked at Taehyung who even with his shades on, yawned large and wide.

“Yes, please, right here,” he flourished an arm to the side at the range rover and opened the door, letting you push him in first.

“You have to check in at the hotel first, before going to his house, Y/N. That way we can keep up appearances.” He said to you, voice low.

“What is something wrong?” you asked.

“Apparently, Taehyung’s plan of visiting family leaked out. We’ve had word from a lot of questionable people and media hovering near the hotel.” He said.

You groaned, rubbing a hand down your face in anger and defeat.

“We’ll handle it as well as we can. You just have to be careful.” He warned.

Nodding to the man, you climbed in after your boss as the car pulled out into the drive way.

Shin led you through the opulent entrance hall of the six-star hotel, where the festival was going to hold its gala and had booked rooms for its attendees.

It was unnecessary to say you were exhausted as fuck, the few minutes of nap grabbed in the car doing nothing to help as the caffeine you’d consumed slowly left your system.

Once at the reception counter, the crisply suited concierge intercepted you, annoyingly bright grin fixed on his face as he bowed to you. You bent at your waist as much as your stiff body would allow as Shin lowered his voice and began to speak to the man, eyes furtively looking about in case anybody would be listening in.

Shin finally beckoned you and Taehyung to the front. Your boss, who had dropped the shades and donned a face mask that hid everything but his eyes, began to fill out your information in both the hotel book and a special form that let the festival in charge know that you were checked in and accounted for.

The concierge thanked you and began to hand you your keys when Taehyung finally spoke up, just as you were reaching forward for your key.

“Wait, make it one.” He said.

The concierge, Shin and you both turned to look at him.

“What?” The man asked, nervously.

“The room, make it one.” Taehyung said.

“We booked two, sir.” Shin cut in but Taehyung ignored it, still watching the concierge who looked at you.

“Um, Mr. Kim, what are you…?” you began.

“I don’t want to be alone. I’m sure their security is amazing and everything but we’re going to be at my family’s house till the gala begins anyway. There’s no point in having two rooms. It’s inconvenient. Plus, I’d feel safer if you were with me at all times.”

You gave him a look.

“That’s not a good idea at all.” You pointed out.

If anybody – read Shin and the hotel dude – opened their mouths and the news got out that Kim Taehyung was sharing a room with his manager, it would cause a scandal, and it would affect you as well.

Taehyung frowned at you before turning to the concierge. “Where are the rooms now?” he asked.

The concierge looked down into the sheet.

“Miss Y/L/N is in the floor below yours, sir.” He said.

“Bullshit; put us in adjoining rooms.” He snapped.

“Taehyung, seriously,” you growled, already at the edge of your patience but Taehyung didn’t seem to be relenting. It was either sharing a room or the same wall. What the hell did he want you so close to him for? Was he…, did he think…? You hoped not.

Ugh, you were so not ready to deal with this.

“Fine,” you handed the man his key back. “Do as he says.” You sighed.

Your head tilted back to rest on the tiled edge of the small hot water pool, provided on the private bay of each celebrity’s suite.

Since Taehyung hadn’t emerged from his room since the check out you had assumed he’d promptly gone off to sleep and decided to take a soak in the pool where the hot water jetted against your more than sore muscles.

The vibrations from the water were slowly working to loosen your tight tendons, making you drowsy.

Just as your eyes were sliding to meet each other and a sigh of much needed sleep passed your sleep, you heard the glass doors of the balcony bay open and then padded footsteps. The small awake part in your brain wondered if it was a towel boy or something, until the water sloshed up around you, making you startle awake.

Your first sight was that of a familiar toned chest, bare and not too far from you. You followed the line down to where long, lightly muscled legs stretched out to barely touch yours, hidden by black swimming trunks, before flicking your gaze up to meet his eyes.

Taehyung took a second to say something, eyes raking over your nearly bare body as well before offering you a sheepish but smug smirk.

“Sorry to interrupt your slumber, princess.” He murmured.

You blinked and scoffed sleepily at him, not quite recovered as you debated whether to stay there or get up and leave, if only to get some space from his proximity if not to give him some privacy.

An increase in the water jets made your decision for you, as you sighed again, watching Taehyung fiddle with the small settings remote.

Your eyes closed back and head dipped to the tiles. You could clearly feel his gaze fixed on you and the heat flushing through your body was now more than just thanks to the hot water.

The sports bra and high waist shorts ensemble you’d chosen for your soak was definitely not enough to cover you up when Taehyung’s gaze burned as if he was melting the fabric right off of your body.

Your eyes opened when they couldn’t stay closed and ignorant of his gaze and turned them straight on to your boss.

Working for him for months had taught you that Kim Taehyung was the definition of many things, shameless one of them. If you had expected him to turn his eyes away, you were sorely disappointed. If anything, Taehyung, whose eyes had been fixed to the surface of skin right over your breasts and neck, simply met your eyes, eyebrows quirking in question, as if he expected you to say something.

“Do you want something?” you snapped finally, only realizing how the question would come across to him when he replied.

“I have almost all the things I could want, Y/N, except maybe one or two.” He said before giving you an angelic smile. “If I told you, would you be a good little manager and get me it?”

You raised an eyebrow, wondering what he would say.

“Well, you could try, but whether you get it or get sued might depend.” You warned and he laughed a deep, resonating sound.

It made you jolt in surprise, never having heard that kind of laugh from him before. His usual laughs were short, almost bitingly curt and almost always sounded derisive. When that was what you’d heard more than once, you’re learned to roll your eyes and take it that the Diva boy just didn’t find humor around him.

It was now that you learned that this was Kim Taehyung’s real laugh; free, ringing and absent of any disdain he loved showering people in.

It was a nice sound.

“What, why are you staring at me like that?” he asked, head tilted in confusion.

You straightened up, realizing a small smile had crept to your lips which you erased. “Nothing, I just…haven’t heard you laugh like that ever before.” You said.

A part of you wanted to smack yourself for showing that there were things you noticed about him but a larger part of you wondered if maybe noticing Taehyung himself would break down some of the ice in Kim Taehyung’s façade.

He blinked before looked abashed. “Whatever, I guess,” he mumbled, but he was clearly taken back at your observation.

He stretched a little bit more but his legs touched yours and he drew away before with a sigh of his own he moved, coming to sit beside you and stretching out further.

“Ah that’s better,” he said, arms coming up on both sides to rest along the tiled edge.

If anybody looked the way you were sitting, they would assume you were a couple…and then spread rumors. You frowned to yourself at that, about to get up.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, looking up at you.

“Going inside, I think I’m good.”

“Nonsense, sit down, you need this.” he said before laying his head back again.

Your body immediately slumped back against the wall, grateful for the indirect command as you did not want to leave the hot water just yet.

There was a surprisingly comfortable silence between you two till you broke it.

“You didn’t tell me what you wanted?” you murmured, feeling sleep creep back up on you.

There was a pause in which Taehyung opened his own eyes but kept staring up at the sky before he brought the remote to his eyes, pressing a button.

You immediately felt the water jets increase near your back and you let out a whimper, his head snapping to look at you. His eyes met yours and darkened just a little.

“Where do I start, Y/N?” he said, voice low and husky.

“I want to put my hands on you, feel the warmth of your skin against mine. I want to put my mouth on you, devour those pretty lips and feel them on me.”

A low gasp had escaped you and you were already backing away when he raised his hands to your face, wet fingertips lining over your cheekbones.

“More than anything else, though, I want you to actually fucking give in for once instead of just eye fucking me across a damn room.” He growled.

Taehyung tilted your face up just a tiny bit and you bit your lip to hide the quake that had over taken them at the very thought that Taehyung might actually kiss you. You wanted to push away but the rest of you, the exhausted part that just wanted to agree that you found Taehyung attractive had taken over, not allowing you to budge.

Just as you let go of your lip to say something, the water jet activated again, a streak of water hitting the side of your ribs just under your bust. Instead of a rebuke, a soft moan escaped your mouth, reddening your cheeks and blowing Taehyung’s pupils out completely.

The grip of his fingers increased on your face, holding you in place as with a muttered curse, he was smashing his mouth against yours.

You wondered idly later if maybe you had been drunk the first time Taehyung had kissed you. Maybe it had been the exhaustion, the mind numbing tiredness that seeped through your synapses, brought on by rigorous and continuous working. It was the type of numbness that only went away with a vacation, passing out drunk though you weren’t a fan of the hangover that followed, oh and maybe a night of wild romping.

It was this last thing that you were sure Taehyung could provide the best, his prowess well known.

So, that was probably why you put up approximately zero resistance.

Even now, as Taehyung pulled you tighter to him, arms wrapping around your waist, you could feel the warmth and distraction working to pull you out of your slump.

Your lips opened to him easily, letting his tongue sweep in and taste yours, entangling as you made out messy and sloppy. Taehyung soon hauled you on top of him, your legs on either side of his stretched out legs, straddling him right there…

You let out a drawn out moan when you felt how hard he was, just barely contained in the material of the trunks as it pressed against the crotch of your shorts and you felt him grind up against you as his hands began to wander from behind you.

You tilted your head back, letting his lips trail fire across your jaw line and down your neck.

The night air was cool, crisp but the pool and Taehyung felt so hot, they seared your skin.

It wasn’t until you felt him fiddling with the strap of your sports bra that awareness finally flooded through you.

This was wrong. Oh god, what were you doing? What if someone saw? You both would be faced with scandal; you would lose your job and your reputation. You would lose everything.

“No, wait,” you whispered weakly, eyes still fluttering at the way Taehyung was mouthing at the skin available to him. Your added height from his lap had put him in direct line of your chest and you couldn’t help but want him to continue. Only this time, you reigned yourself in.

“What is it, baby?” he asked, his voice already husky and low.

Your stomach tightened at the endearment and you fiercely reminded yourself he probably called every girl he kissed that.

“Stop, we can’t be doing this.” you said tensely, stiff in his arms and he pulled back just a tad bit, looking around.

“You’re right. Let’s take it to my room.” He said.

Your eyes flashed as he confirmed your thoughts. This was just a passing of time for him.

“I meant that we shouldn’t be doing this at all. You will go to your room and I will go to mine.” You said, pushing yourself away from him and clambering off his lap.

Taehyung blinked in confusion.

“What?” he asked, watching you climb out of the water and go to the lawn chair where you’d set your towel and pool dress.

“I think I made it clear, we need to be up and off tomorrow early if you want to safely get to your parents. We need to leave before the celebrities start to arrive, as does the mob.” You said wiping yourself off as best as you could.

In a way, you were also trying to wipe away his touch on you.

“Is that really what it is?” you felt a large hand clamp on your wrist and turn you around, right against his bare and wet chest.

You jolted away from him, wrenching out of his hold.

Taehyung furrowed his brows at your behavior, so different from how it was just moments ago. “What happened? Did I do something you didn’t like?” he asked.

You snorted.

Of course, that was what his mind would immediately jump to.

“Well, Mr. Kim aside from just violating my last clause, not much,” you sneered turning around to put on your dress.

“Your last clause…? The sexual harassment one…? What the hell, Y/N, we just kissed!” he seethed, volume lowering as he spat out the last sentence.

“You aren’t supposed to kiss your manager! You’re not supposed to flirt with your manager, you’re not supposed to stare at your manager like they’re your prey!” you winced at how shrill you sounded, as if you were close to tears.

You sort of were. You couldn’t lie and say you hadn’t ever thought of Taehyung that way but the very idea of his experience…and who and where he gained it from, made your stomach lurch.

You didn’t know if you wanted to keep letting him touch you, or be ashamed of your weakness. Both…maybe both…

Taehyung had his eyes wide, looking a little thrown and if you were reaching, even a little hurt.

“You’re…you’re not just…I mean, you haven’t been just,” he swallowed loudly, looking down.

“This, this right now, it shouldn’t have happened, Mr. Kim.” You whispered and watched him ball his fists before he was looking up.

The glare in his eyes made you physically shrink and he scoffed, sneering at your smaller frame.

“Whatever, Miss Y/L/N,” he hissed and you blinked, looking away as you bolted out of the bay, leaving him to watch after you.

The night didn’t go easy for you, tossing and turning in the spacious bed of the suite Taehyung had insisted you get. Huffing at the delicate throb between your legs and puffing at the slight ache in your chest at look on Taehyung’s face when you’d viciously chewed him out, you completely gave up on sleep, deciding on coffee in the unholy hours of 4:30 am.

You went to the small table right next to the suite entrance, flipping through the thick folder of the hotel to fish out the list of numbers you needed to dial to place your order when you heard it.

It was common knowledge that hotels, no matter how upscale were prone to having thin walls. So thin, that the conversations happening outside a room was easily available to the ears, which was why most staff were told to keep gossip to their private zones.

Of course, no one expects anybody to be awake at nearly five in the morning and they’d feel safe gossiping among themselves…right outside of the rooms.

“Did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“The new room-maid, apparently she…did it…with him!”

“You don’t mean…?”

“I sure do,”

“Oh…my…god, he’s a GOD! How did she land him?”

“Oh please, you know him, are you really surprised?”

“Man, I’m so jealous. For god’s sake…KIM -,”

“Shut up! If someone heard us, we’d be fired.”

“Right, right, sorry,”

“Let’s just get back to work, before someone wakes up. We need to still do the rest of the floors.”

You heard the voices fade from range as they carried on chattering while walking. Your hands had frozen on the folder as you analyzed what you’d heard.

You were pretty sure it was Taehyung who was the center of the gossip, and he’d fucked some maid. A maid…

You suddenly felt sick to your stomach, the ache in your chest returning. How could he? He’d made you feel special for…what, ten minutes, before his true colors had jumped out.

You glanced down at your fingers, where they’d nearly ripped the sheet of numbers to shreds. Gritting your teeth, you went to the phone to order your coffee.

You were determined to not give him the time of the day. If he could show you that you weren’t worth much to him, you could return the favor well enough.

You didn’t wake Taehyung up, not bothering to call for him as you instead focused on packing a small bag of your necessities for the visit to his house.

You also forego packing anything special for him. If he acted up, you’d deal with it later. You were tired of always thinking of him prior to yourself, no matter if it was your job or not.

You sent your things to the car, waiting to take off when he arrived, rumpled and his clothes showing wrinkles in his shirt. There was a pause in which Shin and you eyed him and when he looked up, meeting your eyes, both of you looked away at the same time, nodding to Shin to indicate you were ready to leave.

It was a tense ride.

Taehyung’s family lived near the idyllic countryside, owning a farm of their own. It was a curious thing that Taehyung came from a non influential family but you quickly reminded yourself you didn’t care. It wasn’t your concern to worry about his roots, just where he spread his branches to.

You could feel Taehyung’s ire radiating off of his body, rolling against you as if you’d personally offended him. Maybe you had, but then so had he, treating you as if you were just a game he could play with and if it didn’t work, he could throw it aside and get another one.

Now that was where you took offence, never mind that you had been stupid enough to give in.

You chewed on your lips, lips that just a few hours again had been slotted against him, moving as if you both would combust if you separated.

Ugh, damn it all to hell, you thought, balling your fists.

You shifted in your seat and Taehyung, who had been sitting way to the other side at the other window stiffened, as if he was waiting for some movement on your part.

You glanced at him, only to find he was already eyeing you, a strange mixture of annoyance, frustration and something akin to hurt swimming in his eyes. You dismissed the last as your mind playing tricks on you. You looked away.

“You should let your family know that you’re on your way, Mr. Kim.” You said coldly, not wanting to say his name.

Did that girl say his name? Did she give him what he wanted from you easily? It must’ve been so. Not many girls would say no to Kim Taehyung.

You didn’t deign to look at him again after that thought for the rest of the journey.

Taehyung’s family house sprawled over the small valley of their farm. You could see strawberry fields looming at the back as you got out of the car, moving around to see Taehyung already out, running to a woman who was holding her arms out.

Even as you watched, Taehyung melted into the woman’s embrace, his larger frame easily covering hers.

A small pang went through you as you tried to remember the last time you’d been in a mother’s embrace, turning to look at Shin.

“You’ll be here till the time of the Gala.” He reminded you, handing you a list of timings and meeting schedule.

“Got it,” you murmured, waving once as he nodded to you, passing a curious glance over the animated actor behind you before he got back in the car, the driver pulling out of the driveway.

“Ah, have you brought a girl to meet with me, son?” you heard the coo of Taehyung’s mother and turned, feeling Taehyung’s gaze bore into you as he watched you, expressionless.

You avoided his gaze, putting on your charming smile as you walked to her with your hand out.

“No, ma’am, I’m Y/N, only Mr. Kim’s manager.”

It wasn’t your intention to be spiteful but the way Taehyung’s eyes darkened and jaw tightened in fury, you all but felt cold satisfaction.

However, you soon turned surprised as Mrs. Kim completely ignored your outstretched hand, moving to hug you instead, slender and soft arms, wrapping just as carefully around you as they had her son.

“I’ve heard so much about you, I feel like I already know you.” she giggled before pulling back to smile kindly at you. “Thank you for looking after my son, Y/N. I imagine it hasn’t been very easy.” She pouted at her son who looked down sheepishly, a tight smile on his face that vanished when he met your gaze.

“No, but I think I handle it ok,” you murmured, turning back to his mother.

She took a moment to look back at you from her son, a speculative look to her eyes as she glanced back and forth.

You spent more than half the day outside, walking along the farm and the small hill that overlooked the house. Taehyung, once inside didn’t acknowledge your existence and neither did you want him to.

Taehyung’s family, while having all sorts of modern amenities, still held true to the traditional ways. There wasn’t a chicken coop or anything but there was still a line to hang clothes, a hay shed, and miraculously, a large tractor in a looking garage…right next to a shiny Chevy.

You didn’t know if you were visible from the windows, aimlessly meandering or if they’d just remembered you but you turned to the calls of Taehyung’s mother, walking up to meet you at a heap of strawberry leaves. Her eyes, similar to Taehyung’s were glimmering but unlike her son’s they were still warm and jovial.

“Mrs. Kim,” you greeted politely.

“Oh you’re so formal, it’s unnerving.” She teased as she reached you.

“In my work, professionalism is necessary.” You returned with a smile and she tilted her head.

“I see; must be exciting working in all the sectors that you have, also at such a young age.”

“It’s more exhausting but yes,” you replied, looking over the hill. “You have a beautiful home.”

“How would you know? You haven’t been inside yet.” She said and you looked quickly at her to see her quietly laughing. “It’s peaceful here. We didn’t always live here, but the city became…hectic, after Tae became famous. His fans are amazing, but some can be a little…overwhelming. So, we moved here after Tae’s grandmother passed. It’s not too far away from the city and not so close that we would be…easily sought.”

“I can understand.” You said, sympathizing with her.

She was silent for a minute before smiling again at you, “Come, I’ll walk with you.” she said.

Mrs. Kim, gave you a small tour of the farm, or just explained the existence of the things you’d already seen. About how Taehyung’s grandfather had first purchased the tractor, how the hay shed was more like a place for Taehyung’s younger siblings to play in and other things.

“So, how did Taehyung get where he is now?” You asked suddenly.

She seemed surprised at the question.

“Surely, you must know, as his manager?” she asked.

You shrugged. “I have only been with him a short while and I don’t really like to pry in people’s past.” You murmured, not mentioning about how you’d heard of Yubin.

“Hmm,” his mother paused, considering. “Taehyung was quite the child when he was young, I suppose. Always up in some activity or the other…I don’t need to tell you how horrible his academics went.” She giggled, even your lips tugging into a smile.

“We never thought that he would be actively pursuing this line, mind you. We always thought he’d grow out of it, or finally start focusing on his studies…but then she came.” Mrs. Kim’s face darkened for a split second before lightening.

“Yubin, her name was. She was one of those actresses who do the occasional tour of their hometown just to raise awareness. I don’t know what Taehyung was doing, he was supposed to be out with a friend but he came home all excited. Told me about how he was scouted by Yubin herself and everything. I refused to believe a word of it but then she showed up herself, with her manager.”

Mrs. Kim turned to look over the farm.

“She took him with her to Seoul, set him to work and for a while everything was amazing. My son was doing what he loved, he was loved, and he had more money than we were used to. He could do, or be anything he wanted now. Soon, he came home…with Yubin again. This time, as his lover,” She sighed.

“We weren’t disapproving, per say of the relationship. Sure, she was a few years older than him, was more famous, and had many things to do about. It was just curious that she would take to seeing an up and coming actor. We accepted it though, for my son. He was happy with her. She seemed happy enough with him…”

“The blow for all of us came, of course, when he proposed. I doubt she was expecting it. I don’t know what she told him but the next day their troubles began. He would always call me and they’d be having a fight. She began to be colder, more distant. Soon, she just up and disappeared. It was later that Tae found about all the others.”

There was silence as I absorbed the new information…or rather history.

“My son…wasn’t what the papers make him out to be. He isn’t what I’m sure you think him to be. He was a child, a young man who just happened to fall for the wrong woman. After she left, he changed. He began to call less, visit less. We began to see atrocious news about our precious boy, we got cornered more. He grew more famous and popular yes, but I don’t think he sees the cost he paid yet. But we do,” she turned to give you a sad smile which made you drop your gaze.

A shrill burst of laughter erupted, breaking though the silence of the evening and both your heads turned, following the sound to see two young boys laughing, running out of the open door.

Seconds later, Taehyung followed, long legs carrying him after his brothers, the deep, booming genuine laughter you’d heard echoing over to you as he chased his siblings.

You watched as he tackled the small boy, falling to the grass, careful to push his body to ground first so the child wouldn’t get hurt as he began to tickle his sides.

The young child laughed harder, squirming in his brother’s arms as they were joined by the youngest, which jumped about, pointing and demanding attention.

You blinked fast, pressing your fingers to your chest where the ache had returned.

There might have been more to Kim Taehyung than you might have seen but just how much of it still remained in him, was yet to be seen.

You would give him space, but you weren’t sure if you were willing to put yourself out there just yet, especially not after this morning.

Shin sent you the car after dinner time, making sure that Taehyung at least had enough time spent with his family. You decided to forego dinner with the family, politely declining and saying you had some work to finalize and would have dinner at the hotel.

You didn’t miss the small exchange of eyes Taehyung’s mother shared with her son when he stiffly turned at your refusal, shrugging apathetically.

Plugging in your earphones, you began to tick down the list of meetings you had tomorrow with Taehyung’s outfitters and select media personnel he’d give interviews to, checking their faces and IDs when the car arrived to take you back to the hotel.

The ride back was even more uncomfortable than the first, now that you were concerned about your own feelings and you could feel him turn his head towards you more often, an indescribable look on his face.

When the car pulled into the underground parking of the hotel, you were the first out, clutching your thin tablet and papers to your chest.

“Y/N,” you heard Taehyung call but you didn’t turn to him.

“I’m hungry now. I’ll be at the dining hall, if you need me,” you said hurriedly, walking away as fast as your feet would carry you.

In the dining hall, where you put in whatever the first table of the buffet had to order, you sat by the window, looking out and sighing.

Now that you were back, the conversation you’d heard in the morning kept replaying in your head, making you press your fingertips to your temples and roll them when you saw it.

The mob had already arrived. You’d see it being parted as the car swept into the parking.

Now, apart from the mob, a gaggle of girls were standing outside the window. What was concerning was that their eyes were fixed on you.

Frowning, you raised your eyebrows challengingly to the girls but they didn’t stir, instead muttering to each other.

Now, you had had a few experiences with crazy people, girls and boys who wanted a piece of your charge or someone close to them but you had never seen this.

You had never been the one to be stared at.

Feeling a thread of worry unfurl in your stomach, you ditched your plate, deciding to just get room service in your suite’s safety and got up, picking up your things and leaving.

Stopping just near the elevator of the hall, you turned to see the girls gone.

Getting out on your floor was when you felt it. The feeling of unease you’d felt in the dining hall.

You turned, looking both ways into the hallways.

“Taehyung?” you called, hoping it was him, just him.

The door to the emergency stairway opened then and the girls came in.

There were four and very pretty. You frowned, were they workers, sisters, staff for one of the celebrities to be living on this floor? Why were they using the stairs instead of the elevator?

“That’s her. Taetae’s manager,” the girl who’d been staring at you said.

She had on a kitty hair band, you noticed, funny the things people register when cornered.

“Are you sure?” another asked, tilting her head. There was something oddly off about the girls, but then maybe you were just scared.

“Um, I think I have the wrong hall.” You muttered, turning to walk away.

“We saw you with him.”

You turned to see them walking towards you in a straight line.

“Yeah, so, I’m his manager,” you said, bluntly.

“You called him by his name. Who do you think you are, calling our man by his name? He should be only Mr. Kim to you, bitch.”

You bristled at the audacity before rolling your eyes.

“Ok, I’m going to give you ten minutes to get out of here. Otherwise, I’m going to have security call the police.” You said, bravely turning to walk away again.

A harsh pull on your hair stopped you, earning a yelp as you were tugged backwards.

You turned hair still in the bitch’s grip as your eyes watered, seeing her face twisted in rage.

“How dare you, talking to us like that? You fucking slut, we all know what you want from him!”

Your hand came up to clutch at her hand, digging in your nails to make her grip lose and she let go but the others tackled you, one of them catching you with the sharp edge of her nail as she grasped your neck, fingers digging into your throat.

Oh god, you were going to die.

You tried to buck her off, rolling to throw her off when you heard the commotion and a familiar shout.

“Hey! Get the fuck away from her!”

The girl looked up, her fingers loosening as black suited men surrounded the group.

“Taetae, hi, oh my god, we’re such huge fans. I’m sorry, I was just…” the girl stammered as she got off of you while you turned to your side trying to crawl away.

“Don’t, just don’t fucking talk to me,” you heard him bite before soft hands were cradling your shoulders.

“Y/N, hey, Y/N, can you hear me?”

You nodded as best as you could, ignoring the sting in your throat as Taehyung propped you against his knee before turning livid eyes to Shin and the concierge who had accompanied the security.

You watched as the black suited guys dragged the girls away in the service elevators.

“What the hell, man? Your security is fucking horrible. How did they get up here?” he yelled, making you wince.

“We’re so sorry, Mr. Kim. They must’ve used the emergency staircase. We don’t have a lot of men posted there.” The concierge spread his hands and Taehyung let out a scoff before looking at you.

“You’re lucky we got here in time. If anything happened to her, you can be sure you would pay…and not just in money. I’d personally make sure of that.”

“Taehyung, it’s ok.” You said softly and he looked at you, glare softening a little.

“Fine,” he grumbled as he stood up with you pulled along with him.

“Shin, make sure these idiots double everything. I don’t care who they put and I want Y/N watched as well,” he ordered, meeting with zero protests as he led me to his suite, shutting and locking the door after him.

The inside of Taehyung’s suite was similar to yours, the trademark pieces of the hotel’s furnishings, and a form of comfort to you.

He nudged you to the bed, sitting you down wordlessly before disappearing into the bathroom and rummaging in the cabinets.

You let out a slow exhale, closing and releasing your fists. Your neck was prickling where the girl’s talons had dug in and cut you and you badly wanted to scratch the skin.

Why did this happen to you? Why would you be targeted out of all the celebrities here? Were you just at the wrong place at the wrong time?

You groaned, dropping your head to your hands just as Taehyung emerged.

“The first aid kit isn’t all that amazing, but we can still disinfect and wash the cut – hey, what’s wrong? Are you hurting?”

Taehyung quickly placed the ceramic toothbrush bowl of hot water and the black bag of medical supplies on the nightstand, grasping your hands to pull them away from your face.

You shook your head and he let go of you, bringing a chair to sit in front of you, tearing open a pack of wet wipes and looking back up at you.

His fingers curved around your jaw line, tilting your head up and examining the crescents of nails on your skin, before running the cool tissue over them, wiping away any residual fluid that might have oozed out.

He dropped the tissue, before applying some antiseptic cream on the area and patting at it with gauze cloths.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” you asked curiously.

Taehyung didn’t answer. His warm brown eyes met yours and held the gaze as he continued to spread a thin layer of disinfectant on your skin with his fingertip.

You wondered whether he was avoiding the question when he looked away.

“I’m glad they didn’t harm you.”

“They almost strangled me. Nice, sweet fans,” you replied, watching the slight quirking of his lips.

“Not all of them are all so sweet.” He said.

“You’d know.” You said referring to the sasaeng he’d slept with.

He frowned immediately. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you mumbled, sighing.

You didn’t have to be so hard on him. Never mind, his issues with you right now, you were still his manager and he’s protected you, going to the front line himself rather than letting Shin or the hotel concierge do it for him.

“Listen, thank you for this, really, I’m sorry, I’m being mean.” You said.

He hummed, “Would your behavior have anything to do with what we…what happened at the pool?” he asked.

This time, it was your turn to frown at him.

“You’re one to talk. You managed to have your own fun and still acted like a jerk the whole day.” You argued.

Taehyung’s eyebrows rose up.

“I didn’t have my fun. I wasn’t just having fun with you, Y/N.” He said coldly.

“I’m talking about the maid.”

Taehyung looked genuinely confused.

“What maid?” he asked.

“The maid that you,” you paused, looking up as Taehyung tilted his head, waiting for you to continue. “You know what; we don’t have to do this. I’m going to my room. Thanks again,” you said, about to stand when he placed a heavy hand on your knee.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered his voice stern.

“The maid you slept with, Taehyung. There, I said it,” you sneered and he blanched.

“Whoa, whoa, wait right there, I did not sleep with any maid.” He blurted out, eyes widening as he raised both hands in surrender.

You rolled your eyes.

“I heard two housekeepers talking about it this morning, Taehyung. Drop it,” you said sharply and Taehyung frantically gripped your shoulders.

“I’m not lying to you, I swear. It must have been some girl trying to start a rumor. I was in my room ever since you left me at the pool and I didn’t come out till the call for the car came. I swear on my mother.” He said; breathing fast as he leaned down to look into your eyes, making sure he got the point across.

You blinked as he said it and looked down. “Oh,”

“I just thought…I didn’t put out with you so…you know, you went to get…”

Taehyung curled a finger under your face, pulling it up so you would look at him. His eyes were intense.

“I can understand why you would think that. I know I haven’t been the most…chaste person around but I can promise you, Y/N, what happened between us at the pool, was not because I was horny and wanted to just fuck. I mean I did want to but not just to pass time or anything. I want you, really. I haven’t messed around with anyone ever since the concert. I can’t think about it with anyone else but you now. I’m not going to mess this up by doing that with just anyone. If I want to change how you think of me, I’m going to have to change how I act, don’t I?” he said, quietly.

Your mouth parted as you absorbed what he told you.

Did he really feel like this and was just acting like a douche? Or had he stopped acting like one and you’d just never noticed…?

“Taehyung,” you said softly and he hummed again in question.

You leaned in slowly; feeling him tilt his head as well as you placed a delicate kiss on his lips.

Taehyung dragged in a halting breath, cool and warm at the same time against your skin as he opened his mouth under your pressure.

He was gentle this time, palms wrapping around your cheeks as he held you softly to him, curving towards you as he pecked your lips in short tugs.

“I was,” he kissed you again.

“So worried, when I saw you on the floor like that,” he pulled away to press his lips to your nose.

“I think I would’ve exploded right there.”

You shushed him, pulling his lips back to yours. “I’m fine now.” You said, before pulling away.

Taehyung didn’t let you go completely. “Stay here. It’s not safe for you to be alone anymore. I don’t know if Shin and that man doubled up security or what but I want to keep any eye on you.” he said.

You smiled softly, feeling his hands entwine with yours as you nodded. “Okay.”

As much you would’ve loved to spend the morning in Taehyung’s warm embrace the next morning, his long arms wrapped tightly around your midriff as he buried his head against your back, you couldn’t.

The film festival had officially begun and so had your work day.

Your first meeting was with the hall organizer, calling in to tell you where the entry and exits were, what the protocols for safety and…private areas were.

You shifted from Taehyung’s grip, slipping out just as he groaned, turning on his back.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I need to go meet with Shin and the hall manager. So, you can look pretty when you enter the gala in the evening.” You told him, going into his bathroom and groaning lightly at the state of you.

Both Taehyung and you had fallen asleep with clothes on and now your shirt and pants were wrinkled. No way were you going to present yourself like this.

You ducked out while putting your hair into a ponytail to see him already standing, looking up at you with a small hopeful glint in his eye.

“What is it?” you asked warily and he jumped up, walking to the large closet lining one side of the room and pulling out a heavy black garment box.

He turned to you with his lips tucked between his teeth, advancing before presenting the box to you.

“Um,” you glanced between his and the box and he chuckled.

“I was…well, I was going to ask you to be my date for the Festival before the pool thing happened. Now that everything is fine between us, I’d like to try again.” He said.

You dropped your gaze to the box again.

“It’s something I liked while shopping when you were sick. I had it customized in your size.” He explained.

“How do you know my size?” you gasped.

Taehyung rolled his eyes before dropping the box to the bed, arms curving round your waist to pull you closer to his chest as he dropped his head near your ear.

“I have been watching you for months now, Y/N. You don’t think I can make an accurate guess as to your sizes?” he asked, chapped lips running over your lobe and you giggled, pushing at his chest.

“Fine, whatever, you creep, I’ll see you later.” You said, escaping his hold and swiping the box off the bed, making a hasty dash for your room.

The hall was already decorated, marble flooring gleaming and reflecting the domed and chandelier-studded ceilings as you circled in the huge space.

The skirt of your outfit brushed along your knees as you turned, taking in the opulence with a soft smile on your face.

Your talk with the hall manager had gone by smoothly as he explained how and where the attendees would be coming in from, the way the media would have access to them and how they would be escorted back to their rooms in clear detail, going as far as to explain that he would made doubly sure to not let in any obsessed fan.

You nodded solemnly at that, thanking him as he left you, politely bowing out.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?”

You jumped; startled as you whirled to see another woman had joined in on your solitary enjoyment.

You stuttered in your steps a little before politely nodding, adding a small bow to the seemingly older women just as she turned to you.

She was beautiful, of course she was.

Her hair, a gleaming black was pulled back into a swinging ponytail that brushed the middle of her back, the lines on her face only adding to her ageless beauty.

“It is,” you agreed and she smiled.

“It’s been a while since I was asked to be a part of something like this. I couldn’t refuse this time.” She tilted her head to you a little. “I am Yubin.” She introduced herself and for a full half minute you gaped, your eyes widening.

This was Yubin? The Yubin? The one who had supposedly broken Taehyung’s heart and maybe even ruined the kind hearted boy and turned him into a bratty young man?

“I…I…I’m Y/N,” you said quietly.

“Oh…I’ve heard of you.” She said, surprise coloring her voice before the smile returned. “You’re quite famous in our circles.”

“I suppose. It’s all hard work and no sleep.” You mumbled.

“All work in our line is,” she sighed.

“So…are you back? Are you going to act again? Is this a promotion?” you asked, trying not to sound as if you were prying and she shrugged.

“I haven’t considered a return just as of yet. I wasn’t going to come but after a perusal of the attendees I had to come.”

It wasn’t caught out of your notice that she definitely had to mean Taehyung. The notion that she wanted to see him again made a slow flame light under your chest and your fist tightened.

You were about to take your leave in case you said something that would cause you problems when the door swung open again but this time it wasn’t the Hall Manager.

It was Taehyung.

His hair was parted, showing a sliver of his forehead and his grin was palpable.

You didn’t give much of a reaction as he began to walk up to you, not even noticing the other woman…or rather the woman.

“I was wondering where you were and Shin told me you had this meeting. I wanted to…”

He trailed off as your eyes darted to Yubin who had stiffened upon hearing his name, slowly turning to look at him. Taehyung for his part was slow to react. His voice quieted till he went completely silent and he froze in his steps, looking as if he had seen a ghost.

From what he had told you, it would certainly seem that Yubin was a ghost as she blinked gently at him.

“Hello, Taehyung, it’s been a long time.” She said softly, a demure smile on her face and Taehyung faltered.

Your heart fluttered to see this, wondering if you should leave now but also not wanting to. His eyelids dropped as he closed his eyes and he took a deep inhale. His lean frame was coiled, tight with tension even as he exhaled and you were surprised to see his open eyes find yours.

Only this time, they weren’t jovial and affectionate, not even dumbfounded.

No, they were enraged.

Without another word, he was marching past Yubin, brushing by her without another glance at her and he latched on to your arm, tugging you with him out of the private exit, leaving her behind.

Taehyung didn’t let up till you were way out of the earshot of people, climbing the stairs to some other floor with you trying to keep up with his long legged stride that you said something.

“Taehyung!” You snapped, yanking your arm out of his vice like grip.

He stopped to look at you, eyes still burning with fury and began to back you against a wall, hands coming up to both sides of the wall near your head, caging you in.

“What did she say to you?” he demanded.

“Nothing, jeez, she had just opened her mouth. We just introduced ourselves when you came in.” You said, trying to not seem so small with him towering over you.

Taehyung still squinted at you suspiciously. “Don’t trust her, Y/N. You…you shouldn’t have been in there with her alone. I should’ve paid more attention, I’m sorry.” He ducked his head in a sigh and your face softened.

“Hey,” you reached up, curling your fingers along his jaw to tilt his head up. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. She didn’t do anything, ok?” you said and even though his eyes still hardened at her mention he didn’t push it.

“I’m just…I don’t want her to screw up another thing in my life.” He sighed and you nodded in understanding.

“Nothing’s screwed.” You reassured and he smiled at you fondly before leaning further in, encasing your lips in his.

A groan escaped him as he pressed you against the wall, one arm winding around you to curve your body to his, tongue swiping against your bottom, asking for permission.

You put your hands against his chest, letting his gently slide the muscle in and entwine with yours.

“Y/N,” he murmured against your mouth when a sharp ping made you both jump away from each other.

You looked around wildly before Taehyung pulled out his own phone.

“It’s just mine.” He said before his brows furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” you asked and he shook his head, putting the phone down.

“It’s nothing. I have something to do now. I’ll see you in the gala, ok? Wear the dress, you’ll be beautiful.” He gave you his trademark glittering grin before he was vanishing back downstairs.

You might not agree with Taehyung on a number of things, but as you opened the garment box in your suite to get ready for the evening, you had to say you completely agreed that you were going to look good in the dress he’d picked out.

You’d showered, moisturized, perfumed and now you were standing in front of the full length mirror in the dress.

The lace overlay gown was stunning, blush color flowing down into a gossamer skirt that felt like water against your skin as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

Glancing back at the selection of dresses that Taehyung’s stylists had brought in for you, you sighed, running your hands down the shimmering material, decision made.

You were wearing Taehyung’s dress.

Grabbing a white clutch and a few necessities, you made your way out of the suite, tracing an eye across the floor just in case.

You weren’t scared of anything else happening but after that one time, you sure were going to be extra careful.

You cast a look down the hall to Taehyung’s closed suite door and smiled softly, wondering how he would be looking in the suit you’d helped the stylists choose. The red accents would be beautiful against his skin, you’d thought.

While you were excited to attend the Gala with Taehyung at your side, you couldn’t forget you were here to work first and foremost. One last glance at Taehyung’s door and you got into the elevator, going downstairs to meet Shin to make sure everything was perfect and safe.

Cameras flashes, soft classical music alternating with the latest hits in the industry blasted across the glorious hall. It was difficult to take in that the Grecian hall you’d seen in the morning was now hosting so many stars.

You smiled at a few business men you recognized, making sure to steer clear of the celebs getting their picture taken. Glancing at you studded watch you noted that it was about ten minutes till Taehyung would make his entry and you bit your lips in anticipation, smiling along to whatever one of your ex employers was saying.

“I’ll be honest; I wouldn’t have thought that you would ever work for an Actor.” The man said.

“Me neither, but here we are,” you said, smiling as you sipped at your champagne.

“Hmm and how has Kim Taehyung been treating you?” the man returned the sly smile and you glanced at your watch again, frowning when you saw it was past his time.

“Kim Taehyung…is late, as a matter of fact. Will you please excuse me?” you asked and the man snorted, already muttering about how you’d d well to return to the businessmen, who were at least punctual.

You nodded alone as he walked away from you, pulling out your phone to dial Taehyung.

No answer, the phone going straight to voicemail.

You let out an irritated grunt as you craned your neck to find Shin. Spotting him near the appetizers table you walked up to him.

“Shin, where’s Mr. Kim?” you asked.

Shin blinked down at you as he munched down whatever it was he was eating.

“He…well, he asked to have his entrance pattern changed.” He said.

“Excuse me?”

Shin glanced around before nodding. “He came up to me and told me to make a few changes.”

“Why wasn’t I notified?” you demanded.

“He told me you already knew. Now, I think he was lying.”

“Obviously,”

The quickly darkening look on your face must have alarmed Shin because he quickly spoke up. “I’ll go talk to him, if you wish.”

You shook your head.

“No, I’ll do that. Thank you,” you added quickly and walked away.

Your hand moved to pluck another champagne glass from a passing waiter and chugged it down.

Great, Taehyung seemed to have reverted back to his original ways. This was going to be a very long night.

“Y/N,” you looked up from your phone to meet Mil’s eyes, already holding two champagne glasses in her hand.

“Mil, fancy seeing you here,” you mumbled, dropping your eyes back to your phone.

It had been a full hour and you were bored out of your mind, waiting for Kim Taehyung’s arrival.

If it had been anybody else, a date or something, you would’ve walked out a long time ago but seeing as this was your job, you had to grin and bear it.

Almost everyone who knew you here could tell you were in a bad mood, brow perched low and lips downturned.

“Where’s the brat?” Mil asked, pushing the glass in your hand.

“I don’t know. Apparently, he doesn’t need to notify his manager where he’s fucking off to and why he won’t pick his phone up.” You growled.

She sighed, sitting down on the stool beside you.

“I’m sorry. I really feel like I pushed you into something terrible.” She said.

“No, I agreed to do it,” you sighed and laid your head down on the cool counter as Mil watched you suspiciously.

“Did something…happen? You would usually be a lot more pissed than this.” she said.

You eyed her as she watched you before looking down.

“He…I…we might have kissed.” You mumbled.

There was a pause before Mil was shaking her head. “Oh Y/N, you know better…”

“I do…I mean, Taehyung wasn’t, he said he didn’t want to be known for what he acted like.” You protested but Mil didn’t look convinced.

“Pretense is only a façade until it becomes habit, Y/N. Then it’s behavior. Then it’s the person themselves. You cannot change a person.” She said before turning to look away.

“Taehyung has been known to try with anything that moves. We all thought you might not be one of those people. I guess we were wrong. I’m so sorry, I pushed you into this.” she looked so crestfallen for you that you stayed speechless.

Mil and you didn’t speak again, the silence unbearable and uncomfortable.

It was only broken when the crowds went crazy near the door. Mil and you both stood up to see who had arrived and your breath caught in your throat.

No…it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t do this…

He was beautiful as usual, angelic with his rectangular smile on proud display. He was also wearing a different suit, not the one you’d chosen. He was wearing one to match her.

Had you really been so stupid and blind?

He wouldn’t…he couldn’t…

You shook yourself mentally.

Yes, of course, he would…he could and he had…he had done exactly as you were seeing him.

You really had been a stupid, blind fool.

Taehyung had played you easily, easier than a fiddle. You had been so taken with trying to get to the bottom of the mystery that was Kim Taehyung you’d forgotten the basics. Of course, he was different with his family. It was the tabloids that managed to get to the truth after all, not his mother. No, his mother had been played just like you, too fond of the idea of her perfect son to see what he truly was.

Your eyes drifted to Yubin, who looked ethereal in all white, raven hair flowing down her back, all smiles and poses.

They were marvelous together.

“Y/N,” you heard Mil call for you but it was almost as if you were underwater.

You couldn’t be here right now.

“I’ll see you later, Mil.” You muttered before grabbing your clutch and downing the glass of champagne and rushing out, from one of the side exits.

Your anger lasted well past the night.

You’d stared at your reflection, looked at the makeup on your face and the dress. It felt dirty against you now. Quickly shedding off the fabric you hadn’t bothered to keep it away properly, letting it disgracefully lie on the floor.

Your fists were balled now, the cotton ball clutched frantically.

You had never felt so dumb in your entire life, not even during your first job when you’d flirted with the son of your boss. At least they’d taken it in good humor.

This, though, you wouldn’t take in good humor.

Your pride was hurt, your ego bruised and you were vindictive.

Taehyung had probably waited all this while to pay you back for the iron leash you’d placed around his neck and he’d succeeded magnificently.

You wanted to laugh at yourself, but at least you hadn’t shed tears. You wouldn’t.

You had only about three more years to work for Kim Taehyung. You wouldn’t back out of the clause. You would do the term and then drop him, never to see his face again.

Something in you had started to ache again, but you ignored it, mercilessly squashing it.

Your decision made, you’d still felt restless the next morning.

Apart from the numerous messages Taehyung had sent and calls you’d missed, each one demanding where you were and why you weren’t replying.

Anger and hurt had made you delete nearly everything but his contact, walking out of the suite to go down to the dining room to get breakfast instead of ordering it via room service. You weren’t sure if Taehyung would show up at your doorstep, or if he had…spent the night with her.

The elevator dinged its arrival and you entered it.

Just as the door began to slide shut, a hand grasped the end of one, the door stopping its slide. You jumped, wondering for a split second if Taehyung had managed to catch you after all but the man who came into your sight was not him.

Round faced and cute, Park Seojoon entered the elevator with a somewhat embarrassed grin pointed at you, bowing a little. “Ah, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You chuckled, bowing back to one of your favorite actors. “No, sir, you didn’t.” you returned.

“Sir,” he laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Please, don’t be so formal. You may call me Seojoon. You’re Taehyungie’s new manager, right?” he asked.

The mention of his name soured you just a tad and you just nodded listlessly.

He watched you a second, head tilted as the elevators opened at the dining room.

“May I sit with you? I would rather not dine alone.” He said.

“Oh,” you blinked at him.

Park Seojoon inviting you to sit with him? How could you ever refuse?

“Of course,” you smiled, leading him to the window seat you always ate at.

Seojoon followed you obediently, ordering for the both of you before sitting down in front of you.

It was a great breakfast.

Seojoon was funny, endearing and over all a charming company. The dining room, even though filled with a few of the celebrities who’d been attending at the festival was empty of Taehyung and Yubin and you were happy for it.

“So, is Taehyung treating you right or do I need to kick some sense in him?” he asked finally as you winded up.

“Oh, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Would you be accepting of one more thing to handle tonight then?” he asked suddenly, turning to look at you.

You paused as you stood beside him, watching him curiously.

“Would you like to attend tonight’s gala with me? If I’d known you earlier, I would’ve asked you for both the evenings but at least this way I get to spend the rest of the festival with the perfect companion.” He smiled his sweet smile.

You flushed, looking down at your shoes to grin.

Unbidden, Taehyung’s face rose up in your eyes but just like before, you quelled it.

“Of course, I would love to.” You grinned.

His answering smile was blinding. “That’s awesome.”

The second gala was the real opening of the festival. In which actors promoted their new projects, interacted with each other, and could exchange merchandise.

This time you’d picked out your own gown, a shopping trip acting both as retail therapy for you and you also didn’t want to wear one of the dresses sent by Taehyung’s outfitters.

Seojoon had kindly sent you a picture of the outfit he was going to wear and you had bought a gown specially to match it, quite proud of your selection.

Now standing next to Park Seojoon, you were actually struck by how much difference there was between Taehyung and his Hyung.

While Taehyung was enigmatic, yes, there was always doubt in the back of your mind as to his next move. With Seojoon, his maturity easily showed. He was quieter, open, and actually showed up; making your mouth drop open to how amazing he looked.

If the way his eyes popped out as well was any indication, you knew you’d done a good job.

“You really do look amazing.” Seojoon said again just seconds before the doors swung open. You ran a hand down the crimson ball gown and grinned, your cheeks tinted just right as he walked in, your arm wrapped around his.

You’d been right in estimating the type of date Park Seojoon would be.

He was attentive, a good listener and endearing, introducing you to people whose first commendation came always in the way you had switched so brilliantly from Business to the Entertainment industry. Each mention of Taehyung’s name felt like a lemon being squeezed on you yet you kept up the grin.

“Well, she is just plain amazing.” Seojoon smiled, patting your shoulder appreciatively and you preened. Attending a gala with your celebrity crush would do that to you.

The crowds, which tended to scream just as a celebrity entered the hall, screamed louder and you turned away immediately, already sure of whom it was. They must have finally arrived.

Seojoon leant in, smile fixed in place, “Dance with me?” he asked.

You returned his smile. “Yes, please.”

You said and he led you to the glittering marble floor.

After a quick dance to one of the slower hits of a singer, you and he bought some of the merchandise to be delivered later to your rooms and talked to the other veterans in the industry. Seojoon introduced you to a few of his co-stars who were more interested in what went into being Kim Taehyung’s manager than you.

You spied Taehyung a few times in the midst of the stars and not once did he look happy. His mouth was pinched, eyes flaming and he’d dropped Yubin somewhere. He also seemed to be avoiding the eyes of everyone who stopped to talk to him. You squinted to be able to see if he was drunk or not when Seojoon began to excuse the both of you.

Seojoon and you walked up to the bar.

“Man, I have about an hour more to do this and then I can go back to my room.” He sighed.

“Lucky, I’ll probably have to stay for Taehyung.” You sighed, already worried about his disposition.

He leant over the counter for the bartender and shrugged. “Well, then I suppose I should stay here with my lovely date so I don’t miss any more time of her company.” He flirted and ordered a few martinis, talking about the merchandise both of you had ordered.

When the drinks arrived, Seojoon turned to you seriously.

“Is there something wrong with Taehyung and you?” he asked.

You nearly choked on your drink, making Seojoon calmly reach over to rub your back as he offered you a napkin. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“No, I mean, why would you even ask me that?” you asked.

“Well, any mention of Taehyung seems to make you upset, you didn’t look at Taehyung when he entered, you avoided all the stalls that have Taehyung’s goodies and he’s been looking at you ever since he’s caught you, all angry and red in the face.” He said.

It was a mark of your control that you didn’t turn to look to find Taehyung when he said that.

“Look, I won’t pry but if you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.” He said.

You’d just opened your mouth to say there was nothing wrong when a shadow fell over your corner.

“Y/N,”

Seojoon and you both turned to look up at the intruder, making you let out a small gasp at the sight.

Taehyung was drunk. His hair, usually perfectly styled was messed up, half of the strands standing up and his skin was clammy, eyes bloodshot.

The only thing that was halfway in focus was his gaze that was fixed on the less than respectable distance between you and his friend.

“Taehyung,” Seojoon was the first to speak, leaning away from you, surprised to see his friend so far gone.

Taehyung’s eyes flitted to him. “Hyung,” he sneered, “Having fun?” he asked, eyes roving to yours.

You bristled, immediately understanding what he was hinting at. You stood up. “Taehyung, you should go to bed now.” You said.

“Sure, come with me, unless you want to stay here with Hyung and…have some more fun.”

You winced, glancing at Seojoon who stood up as well, walking forwards to place a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Taehyung-ah, you’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying. Let’s get you to your room ok?” he said soothingly.

Taehyung scoffed, throwing off Seojoon’s hand. “I’m fine, Hyung. If you’ll excuse me, I have to talk to my manager.”

Seojoon looked weary at that. “I don’t think it’ll be appropriate if I let her go with you in this state.”

“No, it’s fine.” You said quickly, already noticing the brewing anger and outrage in Taehyung’s eyes but Seojoon shook his head, “It’s not, Y/N.” He said and struck out a hand to stop you from going to Taehyung.

“Hey, don’t touch her!” Taehyung yelled immediately.

Seojoon’s eyebrows rose, hand still out as people began to look around, murmuring and pointing your group out.

“Taehyung, stop, he’s not ok, he’s not doing anything. Seojoon, please, he’s making a scene, let me take him out of here.” you gripped Seojoon’s arm in panic.

“I’m making a scene? Of course not, dearest Y/N. why, I’m in perfect control. Now come with me, now.” Taehyung growled.

“I can’t let you go with him, Y/N. I’m sorry but he’s not safe.” Seojoon said sternly and Taehyung lunged.

“No, Taehyung stop!” you screamed as Taehyung threw a punch. You didn’t know if it was the drunkenness or Seojoon’s military training but he quickly caught the fist, pushing his younger friend away.

“What the hell are you doing, Taehyung? I’m your friend.” Seojoon hissed and you slipped past him, grabbing Taehyung’s arm.

“Friends don’t hurt each other the way you did, Hyung.” Taehyung spat and then Shin was there, wrapping his arms around the struggling man.

By now a crowd had gathered around you and your ears burned in shame. But this wasn’t the time to be ashamed of his actions, you thought as you caught the cameras pointing at him.

“What do we do with him?” Shin asked.

You met Taehyung’s angry stare with your blank one. “Take him to his room and stay with him. Don’t let him leave. I’ll have to handle this.” you said as Shin began to usher the man to the exits.

Taehyung seemed to have given up the fight; figure slumped as he looked imploringly at you.

“Y/N,” you heard him say before the doors shut and the murmuring picked up again.

You turned to Seojoon urgently, examining his face for any hurt.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I doubt he is though.” Seojoon brushed off your concern.

“I’m so sorry about this. I really am.”

“Don’t be, Y/N, I enjoyed myself tonight. You should go to him, he’ll need you.” he said, offering you a pursed smile.

“And if you need me, you know where to find me,” he added just as you turned to leave, the whispers following you all the way to your room.

“I don’t understand!”

Mr. Bang slammed a fist on the wooden table.

“I do not understand why Taehyung would get drunk and pick a fight with Park Seojoon of all people. They are brothers, they are so close.”

You chewed on the end of your pencil as you tried to seem as if you were in thought. And so you were, thinking about the last 72 hours. Those were the critical period in which a crisis in image management could be resolved.

You’d flown back home in Seoul to deal with the media printing out the news of Taehyung’s fight with Park Seojoon. You’d managed to quell almost all of the further speculations in good time but the video proof had been spread and even gone viral.

You’d seethed at him internally for putting you on the spot and if he’d been here you’d have hit him.

You’d called Seojoon to tell him you were going back and he’d forwarded his desire to see you when you and he were free, a prospect you’d gladly taken up before you were on the flight back home, leaving Taehyung behind to complete the festival events, under the sharp watch of Shin.

Besides, there was more you had to do.

After a long time of consideration, you had decided to let go of your contract with Kim Taehyung. There was no way you and he would be able to work together like this. Not when Yubin was concerned and not when his own actions towards you were so questionable.

You’d put yourself out there twice and he’d smashed both those chances.

You were done with him.

So, here you were sitting with Jinyoung and Chanyeol again.

“I don’t know, Mr. Bang. And frankly, I don’t care. I cannot work with someone who has zero self control and I’m not willing to be his impulse inhibitor.” You said harshly.

Mr. Bang sighed.

“I thought after this time…I must’ve been wrong.” He said.

Your jaw clenched as your gut told you what he was hinting at.

“Well, seeing as my client doesn’t have any further ties to Big Hit, we’d like to take your leave now.” Chanyeol said, chancing a look at your face.

You had never been so thankful for your friends before. Mil’s mistake had made you remove the clause in which you had to find a suitable substitute for Taehyung.

You’d submitted your resignation and had only to wait for Taehyung to return to sign its acceptance.

Meanwhile, you were taking a vacation. You’d earned it.

“…and I would also like to ask for Seojoon’s forgiveness. I know what I did was way out of line and I cannot stress how ashamed I am that I got inebriated enough to hit one of my closest friends. I’m just happy he and my manager weren’t hurt.”

Your hands froze in the act of chopping up tomatoes for your dinner.

You hadn’t heard from Taehyung ever since that fateful night and the sudden onset of his deep tenor voice made you stop every motion as you listened.

“I would also like to explain the reason why I was so inebriated. I was under a forced deal. It was so stressful that I acted out in an atrocious manner towards my manager. She had been kind enough to bear with it but I feel now is the time to stop dragging her through the dirt like this. I can only ask for forgiveness, I’m afraid.”

You walked out of your kitchen to see him on the news channel.

Sitting on a panel, surrounded by Shin and Mr. Bang his head was bowed as he narrated his side of the events. About how he was drunk, how he didn’t mean it, how he was sorry…

You let out a scoff at his face. He was a fantastic actor; of course he would be magnificent in this role. After all, he was the nation’s Golden boy. He’d be forgiven anything.

The knock on your door, made you turn, frowning at the late visitor and opened the door a crack before gaping.

Taehyung’s head was bowed now as well, cap down turned, and mask on but it was easy to tell it was him. You’d always be able to recognize him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked, opening the door further.

His head rose to look up at you, small eyes brightening at the sight of you.

You looked around the hallway before ushering him in.

“Well?” you demanded, crossing your arms as he took his time, pulling off the cap and mask.

“I…I came to see you.” he said.

“Right, well you saw me, now you should leave.” You said coldly.

Taehyung’s face fell at that. He took a step forward, towards you. “Y/N, please, I’m sorry,” he paused, head turning to see him on your screen.

You and he watched him as the press conference repeated some snippets and you sighed, moving to the kitchen to pick up your knife again.

“Are you going…to stab me or something?” he asked, appearing in the doorway.

You rolled your eyes.

“No, but I do want you to leave.” You stressed.

“Y/N,”

You could feel him step into the kitchen, arms reaching for you before he sighed, dropping them.

You waited, seeing if he would actually leave.

“I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know what I have to do. I need you to tell me. Just say it and I’ll do it. Anything to get you back,” he whispered.

You paused, watching him out of your periphery.

“I…I’m just a farm kid, Y/N. I don’t have much experience with this but I know I screwed up again. All I’m asking is for you to understand.” He said again.

You turned to face him.

His face had drooped, lips pouting.

“Why did you do it? Why would you go back to her? You didn’t even have the guts to tell me.”

“I didn’t go back to her!” Taehyung shook his head vehemently. “That’s the last thing I would do. I know I sound like I’m shifting blame but she…she’s the reason why I’m like this.”

He sighed before slumping down into one of your dining chairs.

“You know that Yubin was the one who scouted me but when I got popular enough, successful enough we began to date. I was…mesmerized by her. She was beautiful, smart, everything that a small town kid like me could want. I would’ve married her in a heartbeat. Of course, I knew my family didn’t exactly approve but…I honestly didn’t care. I proposed.”

He gave a bitter laugh.

“She said no, of course. It changed her. She began to stay out late, took more far off projects, leaving me behind. It wasn’t until later, when we broke up that she told me about all the other…men and women. I wasn’t experienced enough, not good enough for her. She wanted more. She didn’t want to settle with me.”

He broke off and you didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that it must’ve hurt.

“Well, what else was I supposed to do? We broke up and she left, retired. I became The Kim Taehyung. What you see in front of you now, is thanks to her.” He looked up with a hollow look on his face.

“I slept around, did everything to become more like her. Maybe then I’d be good enough but she never returned. After a while, I began to act like that out of habit. Call it fucked up, I’ll agree with you. When I met you, I honestly began to only see you something to be broken into what I wanted. Of course, I wanted you to be mine; the pool wasn’t part of the scenario. I don’t know when, but you weren’t a conquest to me after a time. You were making me better. You were making me…me, again. Even my mother said so.” He chuckled.

“I got protective of you. Anything that could wipe away the traces of her from me, I’d want to keep. That was you. So, imagine my horror when she came back and I saw her with you. It scared my life out of me, even more than seeing you on the floor with some girl trying to choke you. I’d have done anything to keep you from her.”

“That day on the stairwell, it was her who messaged me. So, I went to see what she wanted. I didn’t think she would want anything to do with you but I was scared she’d run you off. That was the only reason why I agreed when she told me to accompany her to the Galas. I didn’t tell you because; I didn’t know what you’d say. Of course, now I know that was dumber because I hurt you nevertheless. Also the whole thing with Seojoon Hyung…I can’t believe I did that.”

“You were jealous.” You said bluntly, finally breaking your silence and he nodded.

“Can you blame me? In my mind, all I could see was that I was losing you to him. The one thing I didn’t want to happen and it was happening right in front of my eyes. I lost it.”

He reached out suddenly, grabbing my hand to pull me closer to him.

“There, now you know everything. I even did the press conference because I couldn’t reach you. You wouldn’t even take my calls.”

You sighed.

“Taehyung…I like you, I do but…this; this isn’t good for me. I can’t have you become jealous and try to ruin everything, my reputation and yours in a fit of temper. Please,” you said, trying to pull away but he held fast.

A glint of determination shone in his eyes.

“I’ll give it up. If I can’t change then I’ll give it all up. None of this matters if it loses me you.” he said fiercely.

I snorted.

“Then what, you become like Yubin?” you asked backing off but this time he followed, definitely not willing to give up.

“Anything, I’ll do absolutely anything. I have more than enough money, Y/N. I can last well enough till I’m ready to come back to the scene. I only want you to take me back.”

You bite your lips, watching him.

“Why, what’s so special about me?” you asked.

He smiled a soft fond smile.

“You’re you. You’re patient, understanding, strict but kind and reasonable. You’re the first one to comment on my laugh being genuine. You’re the first one I’ve wanted to spend the night with and the first one I’ve wanted to impress.”

He was leaning in; his face so close that you could feel his warm breath waft against your skin.

“I might even say that I’m falling for you.” he whispered.

“If you…” you began, “make a fool out of me again, I will personally castrate you.” you warned.

His eyes widened a tad bit at the warning before he was nodding. “I’ll take it.” he said.

“Good,”

You and Taehyung stared at each other for a minute until the tension in the air reached a crescendo. You huffed and reached out for his shoulders, pulling him to you in a rough and messy kiss.

Taehyung let out a soft growl against your mouth, teeth clashing and nipping at your lips as he let you plunder his mouth, take the kiss the way you wanted.

His hands gripped at your hips, molding the flesh in his large palms as he pulled you tight to his chest. Heat bubbled in your chest, threatening to combust you as you broke off for breath.

“Taehyung,” you gasped and he pulled away; kiss swollen lip panting for breath, looking at you in question.

You looked around your slightly cramped kitchen before nodding to the living room hallway.

“Couch,” You mumbled, and he nodded immediately, ducking slightly and lifting you up so your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you out to your living room, setting you down on the plush material of the sofa before he was withdrawing to the door, locking and bolting it before returning to you.

The kiss he placed over your lips this time was sweeter and yet rough, him taking his time to grab your face in both of his hands.

“The things I want to do to you but I want you to take charge.” He mumbled against your skin and you whined, nails dragging across his covered bicep.

He began to tilt your head to place kisses under your jaw and along your neck and you groaned, your smaller hands running under his shirt to feel his back, pushing the fabric to bunch around his neck.

“Take it off,” you mumbled.

Taehyung obeyed, pulling back to toss the shirt off as he hovered over you again, allowing you to kiss up his chest. He grunted when you closed your mouth over his nipple and gave a hard suckle, peppering more kisses further up his torso.

He grinned down at you even as you sunk your teeth into his shoulder, earning a hissed ‘fuck’.

“You like biting me, baby?” he asked and you blinked owlishly up at him before he was pressing his lips to your again. “I liked it. You can have your way with me however you want.” He promised and your core clenched at his words, all sorts of fantasies coming back to you of months of imagining what you would’ve liked to do to him.

You had always wanted to see what his skin would taste like and now that was one fantasy checked off.

You raised your body up on your elbows and he pushed back onto his haunches, watching you as you began to push him back, making him sit back as you climbed onto his lap, just like the pool.

The way his eyes darkened, you knew he was remembering it too.

“I want to make you pay for all those months of annoying the fuck out of me,” you whispered, your voice husky and breathy and he groaned, head falling back before nodding.

“Go ahead,”

You latched onto his neck at the permission, making sure to leave a dark purple bloom across his golden skin. Taehyung chuckled at that, feeling you devour him as petals blossomed across his upper body.

“Marking me as yours? I might have to annoy you even more.” He teased before jolting as you pinched his left nipple, shutting him up.

You kept your eyes on him, watching his reactions. With the god like face he owned, you had to admit, his expressions only aroused you more as you fiddled with your shirt, unbuttoning it slowly.

Taehyung’s wide eyes followed the skin you bared to him, before his own hands moved, grabbing onto the simple cotton bra you had on, almost ripping it at the clasps to get it off of you.

The moment your bare breasts met his eyes, he smiled wickedly, leaning to take a peak in his mouth, rolling it between his teeth, lapping at it with his tongue, giving you the same, if not slightly gentler version of your treatment of him.

Shivers of pleasure rushed up your spine and you curled your fingers in the soft hair at the base of his neck, another fantasy fulfilled, pressing him closer to you.

“Fuck baby, you taste so good, I can’t wait to taste your pussy.” He muttered against you as he bucked his hips into yours.

“Later, take your time later; I want you inside of me now.” You gasped, feeling your wetness pool into your underwear and he pouted but relented.

Gripping your thighs tight, he made you look into his eyes.

“Right now, we’ll do it how you want but the next round I’m taking my time with you and I don’t want you to make a peep.” He said and you rolled your eyes.

“Brat,” you muttered at him but he only grinned, letting you clamber off of his lap.

Both of you leaned away to undo your jeans, him tossing his clothes away before pawing at yours, fingers hooking over yours to take your panties off.

“Jesus, look how wet you are, you can’t possibly not let me eat you out.”

For your part, you wanted to taste him too but you just keened, basking in the praise while slipping in a finger into your core to tantalize him into action.

Taehyung’s jaw slacked as he watched you finger yourself open, his eyes darting back and forth between your pussy and face. Finally reaching forward, he grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand up to his mouth to suck at your soaked finger.

Damn, the way his tongue wrapped around your index made you want to screech even as he moaned.

“That’ll have to do for now.” He said, before he was driving back for his jeans, fingers fumbling into his pockets for a condom.

Ripping off the foil, he began to slow down to carefully put it on.

“Ready baby?” he asked, rolling it on him, waiting for your permission.

You nodded, quickly, feeling him desperately line himself with you and push in with a hard thrust, burying him into you to the hilt.

A cry escaped you at his roughness. Taehyung’s libido must have suffered from all the abstinence he’s practiced for you and you understood the greed he was dripping with now.

Taehyung cursed, hips rolling into you as he slowly pushed in and out, testing the waters. “Taehyung, please,” you whined again, your legs wrapping around his to drag him in closer to you. “I want you to go faster, harder.” You ordered, remembering his promise and his jaw set, eyes watching yours for any sign of discomfort before he nodded and set a furious pace, pumping him into you.

His face dropped, lips caressing yours as he whispered sweet and filth to you before he was running his fingers down your body, finding your clit as he rubbed it with his thumb.

Pants of your breath and his grunts filled the room, the static noise of a reporter talking about Kim Taehyung interrupting a few short moments of silence before your cries of pleasure drowned out the droning voice again.

“Come for me,” Taehyung said, index and thumb pinching your now swollen and hard nub.

You exploded, stars twinkling behind your eyes as he followed soon after, grunting and groaning as he emptied himself into the condom.

There was a silence as you both reveled in the catharsis of the pent up sexual tension releasing before he was getting off of you, going into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. “We won’t do it again with the TV on,” you grumbled, reaching around for the remote to shut the TV off as you heard him chuckle from inside.

Once he returned, wrapping both of you up in the couch blanket, he nuzzled up into your neck.

“How will you resign if I don’t accept?”

He asked suddenly and you let out a tired chuckle.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 173: Campus Tour

Previously on BnHA: Class A hashed out everyone’s roles for the upcoming band performance/dance party. Momo wound up on keyboard, Jirou is doing vocals in addition to bass, and Kaminari and Tokoyami will be playing guitar. A staging team was also assembled, consisting of Aoyama, Sero, Kirishima, Kouda, and Shouto. And the rest of class A (as well as Aoyama again, for some reason) will be on the dance team. The next day Deku went to meet with All Might. He explained that he could only maintain 20% OFA for a short while and that it wasn’t enough to beat Overhaul and he needed some sort of long distance attack. All Might was all “then LET’S TAKE THIS OUTSIDE, SON”, and they went out to the forest and he had Deku activate 20% OFA and do a cool wind attack and fuck up some trees! And long story short, basically Deku has to learn how to utilize 20% OFA in just his hands rather than in full cowl, so that way he can whip out the wind attack whenever he wants without putting too much strain on himself. Having settled that, we then fast-forwarded one month later to the day of the cultural fest, (ETA: nope) with Mirio bringing Eri to U.A.

Today on BnHA: Mirio and Deku take Eri on a fun tour of U.A. to help her get a little more familiar with the place before the chaos and commotion of the festival. During the course of their wanderings they first come across the members of class B who are constructing the set and props for the fantasy play they’ll be doing in the festival. They then stop by to greet Hadou (who’s running for Miss Con which is basically a beauty pageant thing) and Tamaki before heading down to the support department, where they ooh and ahh at Mei’s cool giant robot. Finally they take a breather in the cafeteria and ask Eri what she thinks. She says she’s not sure, but since everyone is trying their hardest, she wants to see how it will turn out. The kids take that as a win, and Rat Principal -- who is sitting at a table nearby -- says that he’s excited too. We have a brief flashback to a meeting he had with the Commissioner General, who wanted U.A. to cancel the event. Rat Principal begged him to reconsider, saying that he felt it was necessary for the students. In the end they got the okay, on the stipulation that if the security is breached or the alarm goes off for any reason, the event will immediately be called off and evacuated. Back in the present, Deku bids Eri farewell, and one week later Mina abruptly boots him off of the dance team.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 199 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

did these motherfuckers really just spell Kacchan as Ka-chan

(ETA: the Jaimini’s Box translations have had a lot of issues lately so I’ve mostly been sticking to Mangastream now)

also [whips out nerd glasses] according to the U.A. class schedule from the databook, the kids in fact do not have Saturdays off, typically. though maybe they have this specific Saturday off? since they said the temporary license course group also had a break

anyways, these guys are lucky that I’m in a super good mood and don’t feel like nitpicking too much BECAUSE!

IIDA MOTHERFUCKING TENYA HAS HIT THE DANCE FLOOR Y’ALL

I’m going to create a new folder on my PC right now just for pictures of Iida dancing. once it is full I will post them all, and then whenever I am sad all I’ll have to do is go back and look at that post

(ETA: oh yeah I still need to do that at some point lol. when the going gets tough, remember Dancing Iida)

also it appears that Aoyama has fully jumped ship to the dance team, because the staging team is just Shouto, Sero, Kiri, and Kouda now

meanwhile Mirio is hiding in the bushes plotting some sort of hilarious entrance!

BUT HE HAS BEEN SPOTTED

DAMMIT DEKU

also! I figured that since Eri was there, it must be the day of the festival! but I guess it isn’t! which means he’s brought Eri to hang out with all of her class A sibs early! WHICH MEANS THIS IS GOING TO BE MY FAVORITE CHAPTER OF ALL TIME, ISN’T IT

MIRIO WHAT ARE YOU DOING

I’m crying sob help

lmao Ojiro is all IS THAT SENPAI’S KID?? as though that’s somehow the ONLY POSSIBLE EXPLANATION. not his little sister, not his cousin, not even Aizawa’s kid despite him also being right there. nope. this must be Toogata Mirio’s illegitimate child

(ETA: Mangastream version just says “is that his kid” which makes me think he is in fact referring to Aizawa, which makes a lot more sense but is less hilarious though.)

Ochako and Tsuyu are immediately complimenting Eri’s fucking adorable outfit, which is 100% the correct reaction. FOR FUCK’S SAKE. HER FIRST TIME WEARING SHOES AND THEY GOT HER THE CUTEST FUCKING BOOTS IN THE WORLD. and the little kid purse that matches her outfit. I can’t

Mirio is now hauling himself out from the bushes dejectedly while Aizawa explains that they got permission from the principal to let her visit

apparently the principal quite rightly said that Eri should visit on a quieter day first so she could get used to being around people since she’s been cut off from society until now and they don’t want her to get overwhelmed

and she is indeed shyly running back to Mirio and taking his hand

so now Iida’s coming up to introduce himself

...and Mineta is officially being the MOST cancelled he’s ever been, holy fucking shit. usually I just ignore his crap, but jesus. “I’m looking forward to meeting you again in ten years!” he says. to a six-year-old. how the fuck is that funny. can’t Aizawa just fucking expel his ass already. can we just delete him already please. god

(ETA: it’s even worse coming right off of 172 where he was much more tolerable than usual. one step forward, ten million steps back. took so many fucking steps backward he went and tumbled off a fucking cliff good grief)

ugh. anyway, so Mirio’s asking Deku if he wants to come with them

they’re going to walk around U.A. with Eri and give her the tour I guess

EYYYYY

I was just thinking to myself, it didn’t seem right that all of the other interns got to say hi and not him!

omg

HE’S KIRISHIMA! YOUR NEW BEST FRIEND!

now they should go take her to watch the band practice because I want her to meet Bakugou. I just do. it could go very good or very bad but either way, I’m all in

(ETA: am I the only one who wants this?? I agree with the anon who said a while back that we have been robbed of Shouto+Eri interactions, but also! Bakugou Katsuki, who recently leveled up and got his babysitting certification! Bakugou, who would be so awkward around her, but supposing there was ever a crisis situation though? he would be super gruff and he’d tell her not to worry and that he won’t let anything happen to her and that if any villains try to start some shit he’ll kick their ass. Bakugou who wouldn’t be at all intimidated by her quirk and would think it’s badass. Bakugou who also knows what it’s like to be held prisoner by villains, even if it was only for a short while and under very different circumstances. idk you guys I just think there’s a lot of potential there and I’d love to see it. my list of people who I want to see interacting with Eri is getting fairly long by this point. and for that matter, Aizawa himself is on that fucking list too because even though he’s been acting as her guardian, it’s usually Mirio and Deku who interact with her directly.)

why are these weirdos putting their uniforms back on

is there some rule that you have to be in uniform whenever you’re at school or what

(ETA: actually this is probably the case since everyone else also has either their regular or gym uniforms on)

anyway, they’re running across some third years from the business department, and they seem to know Mirio and they’re saying hi

why is everyone on this damn campus jumping to this conclusion lmao

(ETA: and this time the MS translation is making the same joke. I think)

they’re handing out program fliers to him and Deku and telling them to come visit during the festival

oh dang

holy shit. they’re really going all out. even for something like a culture festival, U.A. don’t play

EYYYYYYYYY

I love that Monoma appears to be standing up on tiptoes to peek at them excitedly. “FUCK YEAH TIME TO INDULGE IN MY FAVORITE PASTIME”

Deku’s asking Eri if she’s okay as though he’s not the one who nearly had a heart attack just now

she says she thought it was the “falling lady”, referring to Ryuukyuu. oh my god. so fucking cute I’m gonna die

(ETA: the notion that Eri’s lasting impression of Ryuukyuu is as the giant dragon that came busting through the roof just tickles me so fucking much you guys)

Monoma is declaring war as usual

WE’LL SEE ABOUT THAT, FRIEND

oh my god

“completely original”

this is the best joke ever if this translation is accurate. please be accurate. class B you are giving me life right now

(ETA: you bet it’s accurate. and since this is the future, THIS SHIT IS ALL IN THE PUBLIC DOMAIN NOW, Y’ALL. so put those lawyers away and prepare yourselves for the fantasy epic of a lifetime)

Awase is knocking him out and apologizing because Kendou wasn’t there so “he went unchecked”

OH MY GOD

HE’S RUNNING FOR MISS CON. THIS WHOLE ARC TRULY IS HORIKOSHI’S TENDER, LOVING APOLOGY FOR THAT HALLWAY OF BULLSHIT

(ETA: yet another mistranslation from Jaimini but CAN YOU IMAGINE THOUGH. but yeah, obviously what he’s actually saying is that Kendou is running)

Deku’s still shocked and says Aizawa didn’t say a single word to them about Miss Con. probably because he wasn’t able to mention it to you all at a time when Mineta was conveniently out of the room

(ETA: and also because it’s the least rational thing in the world and he will be DAMNED if his kids get caught up in that nonsense when they have more important things to be doing)

Mirio is apologizing to Eri for “suddenly showing you U.A.’s bad side” lmao

look at his face though

“I’m sorry Eri. Monoma was acting like a cotton-headed ninny muggins”

EYYYYYYYYYYY

she’s got it in the bag this year for sure

she’s floating over to say hi!

IS THAT TAMAKI WITH THE CAMERA??

Deku is so flustered he can’t even make eye contact. U.A.’s very own awkward bi icon

Hadou’s saying that she’s never won and that there’s a girl in the class G support team who beats her every year

in a world of quirks, it occurs to me that even lashes like this might legitimately be “maybe she’s born with it” and not automatically “maybe it’s maybelline”

EYYYYYYYYYYYYY

GOOD OL’ TAMAKI

Hadou is smiling and saying that this year she’ll definitely win

I’m amazed and pleased that she hasn’t started asking Eri inappropriate questions. even she can respect boundaries when it’s important! UNLIKE SOME CANCELLED PURPLE FUCKS

ohhh snap now they’re stopping by the development studio

okay now this looks more like what I was expecting the last time we saw this place

CAN ONE OF YOU GENIUSES PLEASE BUILD SOMETHING TO RESCUE TONY STARK. HE IS STRANDED IN SPACE

Mirio says they’re preparing for the technology exhibition that they hold every year. apparently it gets a lot of media attention

oh here we go

eyyyyyyyyy

so she’s showing off her latest giant robot, and they’re acting appropriately impressed. everyone loves giant robots

she says that for the hero department, the sports festival is where they garner attention. but now their department gets to be the main attraction

although, given the type of attention the sports festival garnered, you might want to reconsider being so pleased about that

also, didn’t Aizawa say that this year’s festival would be more lowkey due to all the shit that’s gone down recently? I mean, that’s the plan, anyway. apparently we’re going to be invaded by a gentlevillain so we’ll see how that actually goes

oh shit, Mei’s robot just blew the fuck up

“AGAIN”

HEY EVERYONE! IT’S A SINGLE PANEL OF THE TENTH MOST POPULAR CHARACTER, SHINSOU

HEY’S STILL HERE. JUST FYI. STILL EXISTS. STILL POPULAR

(ETA: you guys I’m so excited I finally got to the part of the manga where Shinsou Does Stuff Again. you don’t even know)

so now they’re at the cafeteria and Eri’s sitting down with some juice

they’re asking what she thought and whether she thinks she’ll be comfortable at the festival

;_____;

she is so good so pure I love her please protect her always!!!

lmaooooo

ERI YOUR BROTHERS ARE HUGE FUCKING DORKS

OH MY GOD

WERE YOU TWO HERE THIS WHOLE TIME

Rat Principal says he’s also excited for the culture festival and that the students always do their best to create a good time for everyone

oh?

I’m so curious to hear more about U.A.’s behind the scenes struggles. dammit. Rat Principal always gotta keep a tight lid on gossip

now he’s walking off and telling them to enjoy the festival to their heart’s content

YESSSSS A FLASHBACK TO U.A.’S BEHIND THE SCENES STRUGGLES!!

LAY IT ON ME

well now we finally know who this guy is. this is the second time we’ve seen him; the first was right after All Might’s retirement

he’s not wrong. U.A. has been a magnet for trouble lately, and they have several students who are known targets of the League. not to mention a weakened All Might. basically another attack is probably inevitable at some point, and they don’t want to test fate, because if there is an attack and anything goes wrong, that’s probably it for the school and that’s the last thing they need. they desperately need this place to stay open

Rat Principal acknowledges that he’s right, but he says that he considers this event to be necessary for the kids

and that’s true also! they really need the morale boost right about now. they’ve had one hell of a year

Rat Principal, you’re really not so bad for a totally evil guy

so they apparently worked out an agreement, and have fortified security yet again, and if by any chance an alarm sounds -- even if it’s false -- they will immediately suspend activities and evacuate

back in the cafeteria, Midnight says that talk of class A’s program has even made it to the staff room, and she’s telling them to work hard

well of course class A was discussed in the staff room. I imagine they’re the number one subject of gossip most of the time no matter what

Eri’s asking what Deku’s class is doing, and he’s explaining that it’s going to be a dance party

this chapter cleared my skin and watered my crops you guys and it’s just the best

and now we’re cutting to one week later

LMAO

WE’RE SORRY MAN. YOU JUST DON’T GOT THE RHYTHM

ah well. at least he has an adorable little munchkin of a sibling whom he can now spend the day wandering the school with again, maybe. and beating back gentlevillains with his new finger cowl wind move

there is a bonus page but I’m short on time today to include it, so I’ll just throw it in there tomorrow instead! plus ultra!

[sage-nebula]

Keith and/or Lotor for the character ask meme

Keith:

First impression:

“That’s him. I found him. I found The Boy™.” instant attachment to him. He didn’t even have to breathe a word for me to know that he was The One.

Impression now:

He easily ties as the best character on the show (with the other best character being Lotor), and is still too good to have to put up with Team Voltron.

Favorite moment:

It’s really hard to pick just one, but I think it’s a tie between him inspiring the team and forming Voltron for the first time in 3x03, him swinging Voltron out of the way of Acxa’s attack by instinct and intuition alone in 3x06, or the way he tackled Lotor (arms around Lotor’s waist) to knock him out of the way of the explosion in 5x04.

Idea for a story:

My WIPs folder currently includes:

- A Paradigm Shift fic where Acxa bonds with the Red Lion for the first time. (This is an Acxa-centric story, but Keith is there.)

- A Paradigm Shift fic where Lotor tries to pull the “that witch is not my mother” bit and Keith doesn’t let him get away with it, because the harder Lotor denies it now, the more it’ll hurt later when he’s forced to accept it, and Keith believes in ripping the bandaid off fast and sooner rather than later. (The document name for this one is “an unstoppable force meets another unstoppable force who has decided to act like an immovable object.”)

- A Dual Blades fic where Kolivan sends Lotor and Keith on a “mission” that’s actually just an excuse to let them have fun on Lotor’s birthday (though Keith never figures this out and thinks the mission is real, but Lotor recognizes it for what it is).

- A Paradigm Shift AU that shows how The Narti Incident™ would be adapted in that reality (hint: Narti actually gets to retain full agency and doesn’t die because, shocker, it is possible to treat her like a character and not just a plot device whatever LM and JDS think). Again, this isn’t really Keith-centric, but he’s there.

- What was meant to be my Big Bang fic, but is now going to be posted whenever it’s finished.

- A Keitor soulmate AU where people feel warmer and warmer the closer they get to their soulmate.

- A Dual Blades fic where Lotor trolls Kolivan about the “rumors” of his “relationship” with Sendak. Again, not Keith centric, but he is there.

- Keith’s first origin story in Paradigm Shift (he has two).

- A Dual Blades fic (which I came up with before season five) where Acxa, Zethrid, and Ezor are sentenced to death for treason when they turn themselves over to the Empire, and Lotor and Keith decide to go by themselves to Empire Central Command to rescue them.

- A There’s No Better Team (a.k.a. my Pokémon AU) fic where Keith first meets Lotor by investigating the Quintessence Foundation, which was founded by Lotor’s mother, Honerva.

- Ezor’s origin story in Paradigm Shift. Again, not Keith-centric, but he’s there and actually plays a very important role.

- An origin story I began writing for Keith before canon came and ruined everything.

- Chapter two of To Burn, to Shine.

- A modern Keitor AU I’m writing for my best friend and that I personally think is hilarious and hope everyone else will, too.

- A Paradigm Shift fic where Keith decides to do something for Lotor shortly after their relationship becomes romantic.

As you can see, I’m pretty busy.

The rest of these (and my answers for Lotor) are going under a cut because this is long enough as it is, haha.

Unpopular opinion:

Oh boy. Well, let’s see:

- I think Keith is the Once and Future Black Paladin, that it makes perfect sense that he was able to bond with the Black Lion, that he exhibited the desired qualities from Day One, that he worked hard for what he has and that he deserves it all. He’s an excellent leader.

- I think his ending—that he’s leading the Blade of Marmora as a relief organization, and that he’s working with the half-galra girls at that—is a great one. Keith’s doing what matters to him, he’s clearly happy, and people need to stop letting shipping biases cloud their view of that.

- I think people who scream about him “stealing screentime” didn’t watch the same show I did (for six seasons at least), because Keith was almost completely out of the picture from seasons four through six. We didn’t get to actually see him develop because of that, and that’s a goddamn shame.

- I think he’s demiromantic asexual.

- I don’t think he deserves nearly the amount of hate he gets.

- I hate how so many people only care about using him as a support prop for their fave, usually in the form of making him a trophy boyfriend.

- I still think he exhibits symptoms of C-PTSD from some sort of past childhood trauma.

- I hate that so many people in the fandom seem to want to accept the opinion / headcanon that Keith’s human heritage is white just so they can have a “reason” to hate him, instead of recognizing that JDS and LM possibly whitewashing a historically East Asian character is super problematic and that we should refuse to let them do that and see him as East Asian anyway. (And for the record, even if his human heritage was white, he’s still biracial because he’s half-galra. But nonetheless, IMO his human heritage is Japanese, because I’m not letting JDS and LM whitewash him like the cretins they are, and certainly not letting them get away with doing so by weaseling. They can either come out and admit they were racist in this way too, or it’s not getting recognized.) 

Favorite relationship:

If we’re talking canon, then probably his relationship with Kolivan. I hate that we got to see so little of it, but I love Uncle Wolf Kolivan and the way that Kolivan watched out and tried to guide Keith within the Blade. 

If I’m allowed to talk Paradigm Shift, though, then it’s a hard tie between his relationship with Acxa and his relationship with Lotor. Acxa and Keith are siblings in bond though not in blood; they’ve got a fire-forged relationship and trust in and care for one another implicitly. On the other hand, Keith and Lotor are true loves that built those feelings up over decaphoebs of friendship, camaraderie, and support, so there’s that, too.

Favorite headcanon:

As mentioned, I see Keith’s father as Japanese-American and I’m never letting that go. I think that in canon, Keith has C-PTSD from childhood trauma experienced in his foster homes. (In Paradigm Shift, he has it from his time on Revender.) He loves spacecrafts of all types, but for the longest time just doesn’t know the technical terms and thus makes up terms for them, and in Paradigm Shift ends up pretending for the longest time that he just hasn’t learned them to annoy Zethrid (it’s friendly teasing). 

Lotor:

First impression:

I honestly felt my heart stop and fill with love the second I heard the words, “Throk! You wish to challenge me?” and everything that came after just cemented that fact. I was cheering, “Lotor! Lotor! Lotor!” with the rest of the arena by the end of that very first clip.

Impression now:

He is the prince and emperor of my heart, and he deserved so, so, so much better than what this trash show and trashier fandom gave him. (Because while he does have his fans in the fandom, fandom at large just treats him so terribly. It makes me so sad.)

Favorite moment:

Oh, any number of things. The speech in the stadium, the way he easily outwitted Team Voltron in 3x04, the way he flew alongside the surface of a sun to escape Empire hounds, the entire fight against Zarkon, the moment he was crowned emperor … Lotor’s amazing in every scene he’s in.

Idea for a story:

See this section in Keith’s above, haha. Lotor features in like … all of those.

Unpopular opinion:

Probably that I don’t think he’s evil, I don’t think he’s deserving of hate, and honestly I think that the Paladins (sans Keith, because he was not involved in this mess) deserved to get their asses handed to him the moment they decided to commit war crimes in 5x02 and treat him like an object to be traded over to his abusive dictator father for execution for their own personal gain. Pidge and Lance especially are far more selfish and vile than Lotor ever was in his entire run on the show. Yes, I know about the colony (and I still think that was massively OoC and done purely to create a “justified reason” for Team Voltron to turn against him—i.e. that plot point wasn’t written to serve Lotor’s character, but rather was written to serve the plot the EPs wanted to write), but even so, that doesn’t change the fact that Lance wanted Lotor put to death due to feelings of jealousy and possessiveness over Allura, and Pidge wanted Lotor put to death just to get her dad back, and outright stated that “we have Voltron, we can do anything” is a pretty dangerous mindset for someone in possession of a highly dangerous weapon. And trust me, Shireplica, Allura, and Hunk didn’t come out looking much better in that episode.

Fuck Team Voltron. I’m Team Sincline all the way.

Favorite relationship:

To be entirely honest, they barely gave Lotor a chance to have enjoyable relationships on-screen. I felt that his relationship with Allura was too rushed to feel natural, and also I didn’t like how he was constantly worshiping the shared altean heritage while treating his galra heritage like something to be ashamed of, so that kind of soured it for me as well. And while I LOVE Team Sincline, we barely got to see him with his girls before Team Sincline was ripped apart for a nonsense reason (i.e. killing off Narti without a second thought). So in canon it’s hard to say.

In Paradigm Shift, I obviously adore his relationship with Keith, but I also really enjoy his relationships with Acxa and Narti. Lotor met Acxa at the same time he met Keith, and though it took Acxa a little longer to trust him (you’ll see why when I write Keith’s second origin story—they discuss it), ultimately she’s a confidant as well, and she’s the one he trusts most to not be biased when it comes to matters concerning him. (For instance, if ever there was a situation where Lotor was going to do something that could possibly strip him of his identity or corrupt him somehow, Acxa is the one he’d go to and say, “If this fails, you’ll have to kill me,” because he knows she would do it if he asked and there was no other way, whereas Keith would outright refuse. They’ve got kind of a platonic Roy and Riza thing going on.) As for Narti, Lotor and she commiserate over what it’s like to have a shitty, abusive father (Narti smiles for what’s possibly the first time in her life when Lotor makes a joke about how “you could say [he] has just a bit of experience with the subject” and then denies it when Lotor asks if that’s a smile he sees), and Lotor is the one who gave Narti the ability to see constantly by giving her Kova. Additionally, it’s fun to write moments like in To Burn, To Shine where Narti teases him in her own way, by insisting on calling him by his title instead of just his name. They’ve got a soft relationship in that sense.

Favorite headcanon:

I don’t know about favorite, but here’s a selection: Lotor really enjoys playing games—all sorts of games, really, all sorts of types, but especially strategy games. He has a scar on his lower lip from his own fang from when he was biting down on his lip to prevent himself crying out during one of Dayak’s “lessons” and accidentally bit right through it. He was born with a quintessence addiction due to Honerva overdosing on it when he was in the womb, and went through severe withdrawals as an newborn as a result. He’s also been affected in the sense that he’s far more sensitive to quintessence now, at higher risk for addiction and thus painful withdrawals, and so he’s very averse to ingesting any of it now (especially since Dayak did used to make him drink some as a child, no matter how much he insisted he didn’t want to, because Zarkon ordered it). I’m also very attached to Erebus, the baby vrensyr (dragon-esque alien creature) I give him in Paradigm Shift. They’re good companions.

[dannyphantomisameme]

~ Chapter 5 ~

(Click for prologue, chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter four part one, chapter four part 2, and fan fiction link)

The morning was cold. The sun was barely out with its small crescent over the horizon. Within the woods it was freezing. Even Daniel felt frigid under his t-shirt and jeans. The sky has decided to let loose another blanket of snow, the snowflakes drifting onto his jet-black hair.

He was alone within the confines of the trees and probably brushing his teeth in one of the most oddest places. Even after washing his mouth with the water he boiled, the minty aftertaste stained his mouth. Last night, he had one of the greatest slumbers of his life. Sleeping around 13 hours, he felt refreshed and prepared for the new day. Quickly washing his hands and face, he returned back to the apartment.

He craved for some froot loops for breakfast, longing their savory, fruitful flavors along with the wash of milk. However, he didn’t have a refrigerator to keep the milk from spoiling. The best he could do was eat a cereal bar. He was fine with the light breakfast anyway.

While chewing on the cereal bar, he gathered the papers and supplies he had bought yesterday: a notebook, folder, and pencils. It didn’t cost him too much, so he was fine using $5. He reached into his backpack and took the wad of cash out. He quickly counted how much he had left.

10, 20... 50… 100… 1200…

$4,326

Not too bad… so maybe he could survive until April. He just needed to conserve as much money as possible. He took out $30 and stuffed it into his jeans pocket. He hid the rest of the money in a pocket of his backpack. Zipping up his backpack with all the supplies within, he slung it onto his shoulder and wrapped his gold watch on his wrist. Checking around the room for anything else he needed to take, he noticed his weapons peeking out from under the pile of wood. Quickly shuffling the wood around so no one would notice, he stood up, dusting his palms in accomplishment. With one final check, he transformed and ascended into the morning atmosphere.

The morning sky was filled with vibrant colors of orange and pink, mixing to create one of the loveliest things he’d ever seen. From the mansion view, the sunrise was boring and usually hidden behind the trees. But here, he felt mesmerized to be encompassed by the dynamic hues of the heavens.

Finally he descended into an alley once he neared the school. He didn’t want to get to close, in fear of students seeing him transform. There were too many of them in the open courtyard that he couldn’t watch out for all of their eyes. Even if he transformed invisibly, an unknown teenager popping out of nowhere would seem suspicious.

Screening the area for people, he exited the alley. He didn’t look out of place today, although he didn’t have a jacket.

Shit. People are going to think I’m dumb for walking out in winter in a t-shirt.

He never thought about his actions ahead of time. It was one of his biggest weaknesses. He didn’t know much about Minnesota anyway, he was for sure to be seen as an outcast. Although the temperature must have been around 3 degrees, he hardly felt it. Grimacing, he continued down the sidewalk, passing by small street stores. Those inside the cars driving by stared at him and his stupidity. He sighed, his breath fogging the air in front of him.

His objective was to keep quiet and lay on the low. He didn’t need people keeping tabs on him, especially when he was bound to disappear in two weeks. He just needed to be seen as the quiet, background kid. No friends, no talking unless he had to.

Finally he entered the school and into the hideous green surroundings. Students still glared at him as he walked down the halls. It was as if he was under microscopic inspection, their eyes scrutinizing the new student. Some students were conversing with friends while some were looking at their phones. He never understood the importance of having your own device at all times, it just seemed like a waste of money and time. He didn’t need immediate internet access at all times, he could just fly to the library in a matter of minutes. Taking a right down the hall, he looked down at the class schedule in his hands.

Locker 724. Alright.

Upon reaching his locker, he frowned at its appearance. It was the worst locker in the entire hall. Its rusted presence with questionable stains made his stomach feel like releasing its contents. There wasn’t anything he could do about it now; the principal had said that the school was quite packed with little space for newcomers. Glancing around, he noticed students placing their notebooks and textbooks into their lockers. So that’s what they’re used for. He didn’t want to touch the unappealing storage container, so he decided to find his first class. He also didn’t have any supplies to put into the locker.  He would be gone in two weeks anyway, he could survive without a locker.

Before he could turn and find his classroom, he was shoved against the filthy locker. Disgusted, his stomach churned nauseously, but his attention was focused on the figure in front of him.

“Hey look it’s a newbie.” A blonde boy taunted. He wore a red and white letter jacket, black t-shirt, and skinny jeans. Other guys stood behind him with matching jackets, laughing at Daniel like a pack of wolves congratulating their alpha.

Daniel tried not to get agitated, but he couldn’t help himself. Heat rose to his cheeks, giving them a slight pink tint. He glared at the other teens, eyes meeting at the same level. They looked about his age, maybe even in the same grade. They were also his height, although few of them were a bit taller than him. He could tell they had built up bodies just from eyeing their broad figures.

“What’s your name twerp?” The blondie ridiculed. His voice had a sort of nasally tone to it, annoying Daniel further. A smirk played itself across is face as he began dusting his shoulder from the dust that accumulated after contacting the treacherous locker.

“What’s your name, asshole?” Daniel retorted with as much sass as the boy. The others behind him ‘ooh’-ed at the sudden infringement of the social hierarchy by the new student. Daniel had a feeling that he had overstepped his boundaries and already made enemies. So much for being the low-life, new student. The first thing he did at his new school was create drama. Fuck.

The blonde boy was infuriated and with his mouth twisted into a wicked grimace. Suddenly his hand outstretched and grabbed Daniel by the neck, pinning him up against the vile locker. “What did you just call me?” the boy growled. His eyebrows were furrowed and his violet eyes dead set on the prey in front of him. A crowd began to form behind him. Daniel faintly heard him shout something else as his mind suddenly went blank.

The icy wall was blanketed with a sheet of ectoplasm, splattered everywhere, dripping down onto the white carpeted floor. The gash on his shoulder pulsated with pain. His mind felt like it was swimming in a pool of molasses, thoughts disorganized and floating around slowly. The voices in his head were increasing in amplitude by the minute. The giant monster panted loudly as drips of ectoplasm trickling down his ice horns. Both ghosts were worn out, tired of fighting each other.

Daniel couldn’t move his upper body with the giant paw against his neck. But there was one thing he could do.

Swiftly he kicked forward, contacting the ghost at his core. The unsuspecting specter tumbled backwards into the snow. Daniel swiftly unlatched the thermos from his belt and aimed it at the large abominable figure whose eyes had widened with realization.

‘I let you into my kingdom, teach you everything I know, and this is how you repay me?’ the husky voice bellowed. The ghost looked so helpless as he was held against his liking. His destroyed robe fluttered behind him in the breeze. The voices were clouding Daniel’s mind, incoherently muttering nonsense.

Daniel didn’t want to reply, but he also didn’t want to uncap the thermos. Frostbite was like a father to him. He taught him how to control his ice powers when he was younger. In his weakest moment, the far frozen king blasted three icicles at the unfocused ghost. Daniel dodged each icicle with ease, heir tips plunging into the white igloo behind him. Reluctantly he uncapped the thermos and aimed the bright blue beam at his father figure. The beam sucked him in, and all was quiet. The voices stopped.

Frostbite was gone.

Daniel didn’t know what to do as his eyes fixated on the furious boy ahead of him. He felt his heart accelerating quickly; lungs bawling to be set free. With one nimble move, he grabbed the jerk by the arm, twisted him around to face the others, and held his arm behind his back. The blonde boy cried out in anguish as everyone around the two took a step back.

After realizing what he had done, he released the boy and backed up into the locker. His hands were in front of him as if he had been caught by the police. The buff teen fell to the ground, groaning from his strained arm.

“I’m sorry.” Daniel muttered under his breath as his eyes shifted to look at everyone. They all gawked at him like he was a freak, nonhuman, a monster. His vision was hazy, but he sped off. He didn’t know where to go, he just knew he needed to get away. He heard someone shout after him, but he continued ahead, ignoring the call behind him. Everyone was now whispering about him, ogling at the new boy who already mustered up a scene. Their voices entrenched his mind, chaotically screwing up his already disordered thoughts. Noticing a sign for the bathrooms, he slammed the door open and ran into a stall. He locked the stall door behind him and turned to face the toilet.

Unexpectedly he threw up into the porcelain bowl, wrenching his guts until they were free of everything. He sat back onto the dirty floor, weakly leaning against the stall door. His body was trembling. He had another one. He thought he could have escaped them once he’d been free of his father, but there was always the threatening thought looming in the back of his mind that his father was watching. It nerved him down to the bone.

The aftertaste of bile stung his throat as he stood up. Wearily walking out of the stall and to the sink, he looked at himself in the mirror. He did look different from the last time he’d seen his reflection back at the mansion. The bags under his eyes had disappeared and his clothing was of a different style. His skin didn’t look as gloomy as it used to, and his crystal blue eyes shone under the ceiling lights. He washed his hands and splashed water onto his face quickly, dried himself, and exited the bathroom.

Using the paper with his class schedule, he wound his way through the student traffic and to his first class, literature. He had to go up a flight of stairs just to get to the English department. This time, all eyes were on him, but he didn’t return the contact. Hunching, he scurried up the stairs.

Once he’d found the classroom after a bit of roaming, he looked in only to find a bald teacher sitting at his desk. Quickly checking his watch, he realized it was only 7:35, so he was early. Go figure. Entering the classroom, he waved to the teacher who hadn’t noticed him yet.

“Um, hello?” Daniel said hoping to gain the attention of the teacher who was occupied searching something on his computer. The bald man turned around to look at the unfamiliar voice. “I’m Daniel Masters, the new student.” he said extending his hand to shake.

“Ah yes, nice to meet you Mr. Masters. You can call me Mr. Lancer. Welcome to Casper high. Have you been finding your way around easily?” he said caringly while shaking Daniel’s hand. He seemed like a pretty nice teacher.

“Yep.” he replied, popping the ‘p’. Just splendid.

“That’s good to hear. You’re very early. Unfortunately I’ve got some work to do so you may take a seat in the back for the time being.” Daniel nodded and Mr. Lancer returned to his computer. Daniel worked his way through the row of desks and sat in the back. Setting his backpack down and his head against the desk, he sighed. Today was already off to a bad start. He was even getting hungry from hurling what little breakfast he ate.

The classroom was painted in a light blue color. Posters with books and other motivational writings lined the walls. In the front was a large whiteboard and some giant screen. The desks were a boring, bland porcelain color, matching the atmosphere of the room. Other students began trickling into the classroom in groups of two or more. It seemed as if everyone had a companion except him.

Ten minutes later, the bell rang and Daniel lifted his head from the desk to look at the teacher. Mr. Lancer stood up from his desk and walked around. Clearing his throat he began to speak. “Hello class. We have a new student, Daniel Masters. Daniel, please stand up.”

Daniel stood up and smiled sheepishly. All eyes were once again him.

Awe fuck.

The blonde, muscular boy from earlier was giving him the death glare from across the room. Just my luck. He’s in my class. He was going to get beat up for sure once the blondie got the chance. Daniel sat down slowly and everyone turned back to the teacher. He sunk lower in his seat.

“As you all know, today’s Tuesday, which means your receiving your projects today. In a moment I will be pairing you in groups of three and then giving you the topic. So once I say your name, please get together in your groups.” Mr. Lancer paused, retrieving a sheet from his desk. “ Mikey, Nathan, and Leo. Brad, Star, and Lacy. Then Dash, Kwan, and Paulina.” Mr. Lancer listed as students stood up and shuffled around. The blonde kid must have been Dash since he stood up when Lancer called his name. Dash, huh? “... Tucker, Samantha, and Daniel. And finally Katie, Rachael, and Trevor.” Grabbing his backpack, he stood up and looked around the room. Tucker and Samantha, ok. Now I just have to find them…

“Psst, hey.” a feminine voice perked up. He swiveled around to find an African American boy and a goth, Caucasian girl sitting together. Daniel sat in an open desk next to them.

“That was a great show in the halls today.” The african American boy said shifting his glasses up his nose. He wore a red beret, a yellow turtleneck, and camo joggers. Daniel’s cheeks flushed a shade of red as he sunk a little in his seat at the mention of the mornings fiasco.

“Hell yea it was. It’s time someone put ‘the king of high school’ back in his place.” the goth quirked up. Her black hair flowed at her shoulders. Her bright purple lipstick and matching eyeshadow contrasted her pale skin. She wore a black tank top, black and green checkered skirt, purple leggings, and black combat boots.

“Don’t remind me. Everyone keeps staring.” Daniel said shaking his head.

“So what?! Dude you’re already famous. You can achieve popularity in a snap.” The boy presumed to be Tucker exclaimed.

“Fuck. I didn’t want any of this.” Daniel said rubbing his face in his hands. The teacher chose this moment to begin speaking again.

“For your assignment, your group must make a presentation on the book I assign. The presentation requirements are on google classroom. I will come around and assign the books and then you will need to go to the library straight after and get your book. Got it?” Mr. Lancer’s voice bellowed through the room in monotone. The class nodded in reply and returned to conversing with each other.

“Well the name’s Foley. Tucker Foley, but you can call me Tuck.” The boy said as he relaxed back into his desk. He crossed his arms behind his head.

“And I’m Sam. You call me Samantha, and your shin will be bruised and broken.” she threatened, glaring at him. Daniel widened his eyes at the immense intimidation from the petite girl.

“You probably already know this, but I’m Daniel. And I don’t have a nickname.” he shrugged. He never thought about a nickname for himself, it just didn’t pop into his mind. He had more pressing matters to deal with his entire life. His father had called him ‘little badger’ when he was younger, although he always despised the name.

“Pfft. Everyone has a nickname. Plus, Daniel sounds too sophisticated.” Tuck said as he looked at Daniel, scanning his features. “Uh… Danny. Danny’s good. U look like a Danny too.” he quirked as a group of students got up and exited the room, presumably off to the library.

“Danny?” Daniel was confused. Did they just give me a… nickname?

“Yep that’s your new name. No ifs and,or buts.” Sam chimed in, a smirk playing itself across her face. “So where you from, Danny?”

“New York.”

“You don’t have the accent though.” Tuck retorted.

“You’re from Minnesota and you don’t have an accent.” Danny interjected sarcastically. Another group of students left the classroom.

“Touche. What do you think about Casper high?” Tuck asked.

“It’s good. I wish I hadn’t screwed up my reputation the second I entered the door though.” Danny said, running his hands through his hair. The subject was still in his mind. What if someone recognized him? He always considered the impossible because in reality, his existence was an impossibility.

“Relax Danny. You’ll be on Dash’s hit list, but with moves like yours, you’ll be fine.” Sam said.

“Those moves were reflexes. I wasn’t thinking at the time. I can’t fight for the life of me.” Danny whined into his palms. Yes, he lied to them. He didn’t want people thinking he had super strength or some shit. He needed to lay low from now on. At the time, he just… panicked.

“Well you’ve got good reflexes, but you’re screwed if you can’t repeat that display from earlier.” Sam suggested. Danny groaned. Mr. Lancer chose that moment to join the trio and assign them their book.

“Looks like you all have gotten acquainted,” Danny timidly chuckled, rubbing his neck. “You three will be reading Frankenstein, got it? Mr. Masters I expect Mrs. Ishiyama led you through your school google account?” Danny nodded. “Very well then, you three can join the others in the library.” The trio stood up and headed out to the library. Mr. Lancer locked the classroom and trailed not too far behind, but out of hearing reach.

“I’ve actually read this book before.” Danny said out of the blue. The other two turned to look at him questioningly. When he was 13, he would go to the library almost everyday and read some of the most famous books. It was one of his favorite past times at the time. Frankenstein was actually a very interesting book, considering that the scientist was the real Frankenstein as opposed to the monster.

“Dude, if Lancer finds out, he’s going to make you switch to a different group.” Tuck chipped as he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at the ignorant teacher.

“Relax. He won’t find out. This way, I’ll have less homework.” Danny replied crossing his arms. Tuck shrugged in response. The trio proceeded walking into the library where all the other students were waiting. The large area reminded him of the library he had visited on his first day in Amity Park. The set up was similar, except the computers sat at the edges of the room instead of the center. Some students had books in hand, while others were searching for their book through the multitude of stacks.

Sam guided them through the room partly using the signs posted on the shelves and partly using her memory. She seemed to know this place quite well, maybe she was an avid reader. Entering the racks of books with authors that have last names starting with the letter L, the trio began searching the shelves. Tucker called out to the other two once he had found the book. Handing each of them a copy, the three headed towards the front desk and checked out their books. Once Daniel had received his book, the bell rang, prompting students to leave at its ring. He now had 8 minutes to get to his next class.  

“Hey Danny, what class do you have next?” asked Sam. He reached into his pocket and produced a wrinkled schedule. Squinting to read the small font, he brought the paper close to his face, but Sam impatiently snatched it out of his hand.

She scanned the sheet while Tuck looked over her shoulder, scanning the sheet as well. “Well we have art, gym, and bio together” she said handing the slip back to him.

“And we have pre-calc, gym, and bio together.” Tuck said grabbing some gadget from his pocket. “And pre-calc is next so we gotta go.” he quickly said, grabbing Danny’s hand. He led his new acquaintance through the crowded halls, bypassing many students in the tight halls. Danny couldn’t even utter a word through all the movement.

The boy with the red beret was shorter than him, but only by an inch or so. He pulled Danny into the classroom. It looked the same as the last one, except the posters on the walls illustrated formulas and inspirational quotes instead of quotes from books. Danny introduced himself the to teacher and then proceeded to take a seat next to Tuck. He recognized a few kids from the previous class, but he couldn’t recall their names. As he took his seat, he noticed Tuck preoccupied with some silver gadget in his hands

“Hey, what’s that?” Danny said eyeing the contraption in the other boy’s hand. It had several buttons on it. He’d never seen anything like it before.

“This is Shelly.” Tuck said in a matter-of-fact tone. He held up the device like a prized possession. Danny just stared at him blankly. He had no idea what a Shelly was. “It’s my PDA.” Oh. He still didn’t understand.

“What’s a PDA?” Danny asked questioningly. Tuck gasped loudly and glared at him like he had committed the worst treason in the world. Daniel was perplexed at what he had done wrong.

“Only the most beautifullest thing in the world! It’s like a phone, but only better! Jeez man, you must be a real gen z if you don’t know what a PDA is…” Tucker rambled on. Danny could tell that Tuck had a thing for electronics. Just the way he talked about them and how even gave them names as if they were human. He seemed like a technology geek to Danny.

The bell rang, interrupting Tuck in his talk. The teacher began instructing the class about trigonometric functions. Danny had some difficulty understanding the concepts, joining late in the semester did that to one, but Tuck helped him through the calculations. Tuck turned out to be a genius in math, and Danny was surprised that he wasn’t in some higher level class.

By the end of class, Danny had somewhat achieved mastery of the subject. The teacher assigned a page of homework right before the bell rang. The entire class groaned simultaneously, hoping they could have evaded the treacherous endeavors of doing homework. At least they don’t have to endure father’s assignments.

Tuck once again led Danny through the hallways to gym class, a class the trio would be reunited in. He realized he had become quick friends with them. The openness between Sam and Tuck suggested that they were close friends, but there was a hint of mistrust between the two, almost as if their friendship was missing something. Danny could never see the two being friends if he hadn’t personally met them before; their personalities just seemed incompatible together. Somehow, they still managed to keep contact.

Tuck brought him into the boys locker room, showing him around. The underground room was lined with dark green tiles with rows of navy blue lockers. The area was dimly lit, like the lights were too old to be repaired. Boys were changing out in the open into red and white uniforms. Danny felt like he should have averted his eyes and given them privacy, but Tuck didn’t seem to be bothered by the sight. He was glad to have someone helping him through his first day. He would have been a complete mess without Tuck and Sam.

Danny received a gym uniform and a locker from the locker room supervisor. Luckily, both of their lockers were situated in the back corner right next to each other, and away from majority of the other boys. Tuck began to unlock his locker, and Danny followed suit. Tuck then removed his clothes one by one, however, Danny didn’t want to change out in the open. The amount of scars that criss-crossed his body would be noticeable in a second. He searched his surroundings and then turned around to face away from Tuck. Removing his shirt, he quickly replaced it with the gym uniform. Next he removed his jeans and slipped on his gym shorts. No one seemed to notice the abnormal amount of scars on his body. He sighed in relief.

Tuck had put on his shorts and now he was pulling the gym shirt onto his head. The boy was very scrawny, although he wasn’t as skinny as some of the nerds Danny had seen earlier. Danny looked marginally better in size compared to the African American boy, and Danny’s body had a light built to it from all the work he’d done. At one point in his childhood, if one could call it that, he had been in a phase of attaining the ideal body. He would workout on a daily basis, and eat a diet based on protein. He continued for two years or so, until his assignments became daily and took up his exercise time.

Danny placed his clothes and backpack into the locker and shut it closed. Tuck finished after a minute, and the two exited out to gymnasium together. Few students were already there, including Sam. She wore the same uniform as them, instead of cropping her uniform like the other girls. Danny noticed Dash sitting on the bleachers and talking to some latina girl, he shuddered. He hoped he wouldn’t have to face him again. The two boys accompanied Sam in the back of the bleachers.

“Nice of you two to join.” Sam said sarcastically as the two sat down next to her.

“Hey there’s two of us and one of you.” Tucker defended pointing his finger.

“Not unless your dressing each other.” Sam snorted. Danny chuckled. It seemed like these two joked quite often. Tuck crossed his arms in agitation. For some unusual reason, Danny felt a sensation of cold in his chest, radiating from his core. He brushed off the odd feeling, believing it to be his core overreacting from his panic episode earlier.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how do you two know each other? You just seem like polar opposites.” Danny questioned. Sam snickered at something, although he didn’t know what.

“This jackass had the audacity to try and debate with me on food preferences. You see, I’m an ultra-recyclo-vegetarian and he’s a meat lover. I was at the Produce Party and Tuck was at the Meat-Meet, and both for some odd reason were situated in the same building. We got into a fight and I tackled him to the ground. Beat his ass till he was screaming mercy.” Sam smiled as she recalled the memory.

“Hey! You left out the part where I slapped that steak on your face!” Tuck clamored.

“Then you left out the part where I tickled out with a lettuce leaf.” Sam snorted as she wiggled her fingers  in a tickling motion.

“Sam!” Tuck grumbled as both Danny and Sam laughed. Tuck didn’t seem like he was having much fun being ridiculed by the goth.

“But that still doesn’t explain how you two got close.” Danny said. Although their stories seemed humorous and interesting to hear, Danny wanted to know why the two who came to be friends. Unfortunately, the gym teacher decided to walk into the gymnasium at that moment.

She had short orange hair, although it was oddly mullet-styled. She wore a white polo and knee length red shorts. Her physique was very built as well, people could easily understand that she worked out quite often. Mrs. Tetslaff, right? She blew her whistle to gain everyone’s attention.

“Listen up kids! I’m going to take attendance, so say ‘here’ when I say your name.” her harsh voice boomed through open space. She began listing kids as Danny sat with his chin in his palm, bored out of his mind. When she called his name, he said ‘here’ just like she had asked. A cold sensation rumbled within his chest, something he’d never felt before. It was felt as if a storm was brewing inside of him. Suddenly a gasp of blue smoke released itself from his mouth. He immediately placed both palms over his lips. Nobody seemed to notice his disfunction.

What the fuck is happening?!

Another breath of blue air escaped his mouth through his fingers. He was panicking. He had no clue what was happening. Someone was bound to notice at some point. Another puff of smoke set free from his lips. His hand shot into the air, catching the attention of the teacher. Mrs. Tetslaff sighed, accepting the students question.

“May I go to the restroom?” Danny urgently asked. He needed to get away before anyone noticed.

“You should’ve gone before class. But go quick, I don’t want to hear this next time.” Mrs. Tetslaff bellowed. Danny nodded and dashed down the bleachers and back into the locker room. The blue breath had started come in quick succession, almost every second. He stared at a mirror, hands gripping the porcelain sink for stability. His knuckles were turning white with his taut grip. He was shivering. Shivering. He never got cold. Other than the time he had discovered his ice core. He could barely stand with the sudden freezing sensation. He felt like jumping into a pit of lava to feel warmth.

With his supernatural hearing, he heard a soft noise behind him. Looking through the mirror, he noticed a large figure standing right behind him. Before he knew it, he was tackled to the floor.

Goddamnit.

The mirror shattered, echoing through the open room.

[paintedface]

Glory and Gore

Prompt: “All I need is your lips against mine. Right now.”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (AU)

Word Count: 3,077 Words

Warnings: swearing, a bit of violence, fluff

Notes: This is for @bionic-buckyb ‘s 5k Writing Challenge! Seems like I’m really into Punk!Bucky nowadays. Don’t mind my title, I was just searching my ultra long playlist for ideas and this fit slightly. 

“Hurry up Y/N!” Wanda calls from the bottom of the stairs. It’s the first day back at school and you’ll be damned if you’re late. Some may give you disgusted side-glances because of your enthusiasm, but honestly? They’re the types of people who are destined to be future gas station attendants, so they don’t really bother you.

“I’m coming Wanda!” You reply, stuffing your matte lipstick into your bag and kicking your bedroom door closed. You hurry down the stairs, and smile at your best friend. “Ready?”

She rolls her eyes, grabbing your arm and tugging you towards the front door. “I’ve been ready since half an hour ago, you just take so damn long getting ready.” She tells you, leaning against the threshold as you lace up boots.

“Well, I’m sorry that I put effort into my looks.” You tease, squeaking as Wanda smacks your head.

“Stop rambling nonsense, let’s go.” She snorts, as you leave your home.

“Hoping to get some attention from Vis this year?” You ask your friend, approaching the school gate.

The blush on Wanda’s face is unmistakeable and you smirk at your friend’s embarrassment. She scowls at you as she purposefully ignores the question.

“Come on, I know you’re into him!”

Silence.

You give her a shove, laughing, and she glares at you fiercely. “Fine, I do like him, is that what you wanted to hear?!”

“Yep, that’s it.”

“I fucking hate you Y/L/N.”

“You,” You jab your finger at her chest, “could never hate me in a million years, Maximoff.”

“Well, first day over!” You sigh in relief, adjusting your books in your arms as they couldn’t fit in your bag. The rest of the hallway has mostly cleared out, everyone all too eager to get out of school.

“God, this year will either be the best, or the worst.” Natasha, your other friend, says while she shakes her curls from her face, kicking her locker shut.

“I’m leaning towards the worst, like most years.” Peggy mutters under her breath.

“First day back, whaddya think, Wanda?” You ask, smiling at your best friend.

The rest of the girls look at her and when she doesn’t respond, you nudge her gently.

“Wanda? What’s wrong?” She jumps and turns to you, flushing a little.

“Uh…nothing!” She squeaks, and you follow her line of sight when you realise why she’s distracted.

You chuckle, tilting your chin towards Vis so your other friends can see who Wanda’s looking at.

Peggy fluffs up her curls and leans against the wall, raising an eyebrow. “Wanda, if you don’t tell him…”

“I will! Just… not yet.” She says hastily.

“Come on, you’ve liked him for years now!” Natasha exclaims, tilting her head.

“Shut UP, he’ll hear!” Wanda hushes the redhead, her blush intensifying. Natasha and Peggy snort, before raising their hands in farewell to go find their boyfriends. As Peggy passes, she murmurs, “get her to do it, or else.”

You nod and give Peggy the thumbs up before turning back to Wanda.

“If you won’t tell him, I will. He’ll be gone soon; almost everyone’s already left school.” You tell her, grinning and moving towards Vis. You’re yanked backwards quickly, Wanda blurting out, “I’m going, okay?”

You give a cheer quiet enough for Vis not to here, as she nervously brushes down her skirt.

“I’ll be waiting outside.” You say cheerfully, walking away before she can back out of it. You flip your diary open at the top of the pile of books, checking your schedule for the day after. You’re not looking where you’re going when you turn the corner, and you let out a gasp as you slam into a muscular yet slim body. Your pile of books scatter all over the floor, and you couldn’t be more done with yourself. The person you had crashed into had stumbled back a little, and you quickly try to recover enough to apologise to them.

“Oh my god, oh my god, I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t look where I was going and –“ You trail off when you look up at the person you collided into. All colour drains from your face as your body slowly is consumed by fear.

You know who he is immediately. Just from looking at the emblem on his jacket.

Bucky Barnes.

The leader of the school’s punk gang.

They’re known for their intimidating power, and though their numbers aren’t huge, they can still make you white with terror if you merely see one of their members. The white and gold eagle against the black leather radiates ‘warning.’ They’ve sent people to hospital for disrespecting their gang, and if you dared to tell anyone that it was they who hurt you, you would definitely be walking the line.

Crashing straight into their leader? You must have a death wish. There was no way you’d get out of this unscathed as you backed away, heart thumping madly inside your chest. And to your horror, it’s not just from fear. You try to control the blush that spreads across your cheeks, because you cannot have just developed a crush on Bucky Barnes. He’s just the type of person your mum told you not to get involved with. But you can’t help it if he has the face of goddamn Eros. You’ve never seen his face up close, you were too scared to try, but you definitely weren’t expecting him to look like this.

Brown, wavy hair that isn’t slick with grease like you thought it would, a jawline that could probably cut your skin if you touched it, piercings that just make him look better and stormy blue grey eyes rimmed with black that could skewer anyone if they were on the other end of his look. You can see the edge of a tattoo coming out from underneath his jacket and creeping towards his collarbone. You’re pretty sure tattoos break school regulations, but you’re not going to even try questioning why he has them.

Suddenly, you realise that he’s glaring straight at you, and your breath picks up, your attraction dissipating at the prospect of being punched in the face.

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll just…” You drop to your knees to pick up your folders, feeling his eyes boring into your skull. Papers have flown everywhere as well, from the large amount of homework you’ve already gotten even though it’s only the first day back.

You’re reaching for your diary when somebody else takes it out from underneath your hand. Your brows furrow in confusion before your eyes follow their arm, up to their face.

“Here.” Bucky says in a low, husky voice, his harsh, cold glare replaced with a slightly playful twinkle. Your eyes widen, your mouth trying to form words but nothing’s coming out. All that’s circling your mind is ‘what the fuck,’ and ‘what the hell,’ because you’re confused to the point that you’re speechless. After a moment of you not doing anything, he pushes your diary onto your pile of books, the corner of his mouth quirking up a little.

“Th-thanks.” you manage to get out, stuttering a little as he hands you your maths folder. You smooth down your shirt before standing up, swaying slightly on your feet.

He tilts his head a little, his eyes looking you up and down, so perceptively that you shift uncomfortably, not really sure what to do when a gang leader is basically commanding you to stand still, with only his eyes. You’re glad that nobody else is around to give you weird looks, but that also makes you that much more nervous, you’re alone with the most intimidating person in school. Not a situation you had really wanted to be in.

“No worries.” He murmurs, startling you a little after the long silence.

He pops his collar, revealing more of the tattoo underneath his jacket before letting it fall back down. Running his hand through his hair, Bucky gives you a small, lopsided smile.

“See you around, Y/L/N.” He brushes past you, his boots clicking softly against the tiles of the corridor as he walks away. You can’t seem to move, still shocked about that interaction, and relishing the fact that you weren’t beaten up.

You slowly make your way outside, wincing as the daylight hits your face.

What the actual hell just happened?

You’re about to pinch yourself when a loud squeal comes from behind you. You turn around to see Wanda, her eyes bright and her mouth spread in a giant grin.

She runs down the stone steps, before grabbing onto your shoulders and bouncing up and down. You push aside your confusion to grab her waist, asking frantically, “What did he say?!”

Wanda lets out one last squeal before she exclaims, “He told me that he liked me too and he then asked for my number! He’s going to text me a time for a date!”

You laugh at your friend’s excitement and grab her hand, pulling her out of the school gates.

“C’mon, you can tell me all about it when we’re seated with milkshakes and crepes.”

The next day, you made no attempt to calm down Wanda’s love-struck behaviour during lunch, so you left her alone to talk more with Vis. She protested but you knew it was for the best when she began talking shyly with Vis, knowing that she had a lot more to talk about with him.

You remembered that there was an exhibition of all the different clubs in the Great Hall, so now; you’re wandering near the bleachers to make your way over to the Hall. You shiver slightly, hugging your arms tightly around you and strangely, it feels like you’re being watched. The hairs on the back of your neck is standing up, and suddenly, you feel predatory eyes on you. You quicken your pace, when you can’t ignore the glares, and you turn around.

Bad decision.

There are about ten of them, black leather jackets with the white and gold eagle, just like Bucky’s from the day prior. You should’ve remembered never to come to the bleachers alone, because it’s ‘Shield Eagles’’ main base on the school grounds. If you’re the only one around, they’re bound to pick a fight with you, and that’s the last thing you want. Before you know it, you’re surrounded by males and females alike, trapping you and making you want to curl up on the ground. This time, you definitely won’t get out without a few scratches. You’re not even sure if you will get out of this in a stable condition. Your eyes flick to each of their hard, cruel gazes. Not to mention half of them are cracking their knuckles. You gulp audibly, raising your hands a little in defence.

“Y/N Y/L/N…” One of them says slowly, before chuckling darkly, crossing his arms, “I saw you speak to our leader yesterday.”

Shit. Your eyes widen and you try to back away from him when you remember that you’re surrounded.

“I didn’t-I mean, I wasn’t trying to – “ You stumble on your words and he lets out another barking laugh, making you shut up instantly.

“The point is, you did, and it seemed like you liked it too. Barnes is Shield Eagles’ leader, he isn’t your little boyfriend. Nobody, nobody talks to our leader without us knowing.” He hisses, stepping closer, and you’d be lying to say that you weren’t scared for your life right now.

You look around frantically for somebody to help you out of this situation, but other people were smart enough to stay away from the bleachers.

“Y’know, it’s too bad that you had spoken to Barnes. Because I would’ve hated to bust up that pretty face of yours.” Are the last words snarled before your arms are grabbed from behind and you’re pulled against somebody’s chest, their arm locking around your neck. You try to let out a shriek but the arm presses down harder, blocking the yell from coming out. You know nobody will come help anyway. You barely register that somebody’s pulling back their fist until it connects with your stomach, and you give a scream, the pain blooming from your centre outwards.

“I think everyone should get a go, I’m sure Barnes will be thankful that the whole gang lashes her. Then he can get a go himself, cause he doesn’t want nobody disrespecting him like this girl here.” The same voice sneers, moving backwards to let somebody else scratch your side, feeling blood seep out of the grazes. You shut your eyes tightly, trying not to let tears prickle your eyes, because it’ll make them laugh at you more.

You endure another punch to your stomach, making you want nothing more than to throw up, the pain intensifying. You wait in dread for the moment that Bucky comes along, because you know that he’ll be the worst. But will he even want to? He’s the one who initiated conversation yesterday, so you’re not even sure that-

A fist connects with your cheek, interrupting your thoughts and making your head snap to the side, giving a cry of agony, the skin already throbbing and swelling up. Your lungs are working overtime, trying to breathe evenly to take control of the predicament. Another hand slams into the area near your eye, and it takes all your strength to not sob, because it hurts so goddamn much. Your left eye’s vision temporarily fuzzes, hazing as it tries to recover from the fist connecting with it. Just when the person holding you against their chest is about to knock your head against their shoulder, you hear somebody yell furiously, “Hey! Let go of her, right fucking now!”

You’re dropped immediately onto the concrete, as voices shout back and forth above your head. Nobody makes any move to attack you again, running past you to a new arrival. You take the time to recover, letting the tears finally fall as you slump against the ground.

“Barnes, she was talking to you yesterday and nobody – “

“So you go and beat her up?!”

“Well, we thought you would’ve wanted to…”

There’s a pause as the guy trails off, before you hear somebody speak through gritted teeth.

“Go. Away. Before. I fucking. Murder. You.”

“Y-yes.” The guy stutters, all the menace from his voice gone as you hear several pairs of footsteps fade away. Except for one that’s coming straight for you. You wince a little, attempting to stand up but you can’t, the pain weighing down heavily on you.

“Y/N?” A quiet voice asks as you look up. Bucky’s looking down at you, and… is he crying? You would’ve never expected to see the leader of Shield Eagles crying, given their reputation.

“H-hey.” You mumble, trying to get up, but a bout of pain makes you let out a sob. He instantly gets down on his knees to pull you into his arms. He hushes you, holding you close and stroking your hair off your forehead. His eyes scan your body, looking at all the injuries the rest of his gang gave you.

“I-I’m so sorry, Y/N, I didn’t want them to do this, at all. I would’ve never wanted this, please believe me – “

You interrupt him, saying, “I know, it’s okay Bucky.” You smile a little up at him, watching as his tears mix with his eyeliner, dripping down his cheeks. Nobody’s ever looked this perfect to you, and you’ve basically only known him for a day. You’ve never really had a crush, but if this is a crush, then it’s pretty much overwhelming you by the second. Your blush is rivalling to overtake the red of your swollen cheek.

“It isn’t okay, they hurt you because of me! You’re bleeding, you have bruises all over you and you can barely stand! It isn’t okay!” He says, gesturing wildly.

“Bucky, BUCKY!” He stops speaking when you raise your voice a little; tone cracking because of the chokehold that member put you in. “I know it’s not what you would’ve wanted, so it’s alright.” You tell him.  

He nods slowly, helping you sit up in his lap and rest against his chest.

After a moment, he says, “you need medical attention, Y/N, you’re hurt badly.” His eyes are so filled with care that you just think, ‘fuck it’ inwardly. There’s no way you can stand that look any further if you don’t fucking kiss him.

“All I need is your lips against mine. Right now.” You let out in a rush, your flush turning brighter as he raises his eyebrows in surprise, his expression taken-aback and confused. He loosens his grip on you, and you duck your head in embarrassment and shame, knowing that he doesn’t want the same. He’s a gang leader, why would he even want a sort of romance at all? Especially with somebody like you, for that matter.

“I’m sorry, that was stupid, of course you wouldn’t, I mean, I’ll just – “

You try to get out of Bucky’s arms, stumbling up so you can escape the awkwardness. But you don’t even get up from crouching when his hand grabs onto yours and pulls you back down. You let out a gasp as he settles you back into his arms, and before you have a time to catch your breath, he presses his lips onto yours. It sets you on fire as you kiss back, his lips gentle and moving softly against yours. You can vaguely taste the hint of smoke and cinnamon on his lips, not too strong but enough to make you know that it’s uniquely him. You’re surprised your heart hasn’t burst out of your body yet, because of the rate it’s going, and you pull back a little for breath. He leans his forehead against yours, giving you another lopsided smile.

“It took all my willpower to not kiss you back in the hallway, Y/N.” He tells you, nipping at your bottom lip lightly, making you squeak. But his admission makes you blush even further, as he moves his hand up to play with your hair a little.

“You know…” You trace his Shield Eagles emblem with your finger, “you’re the type of person people say to stay away from.”

He smiles gently, letting out a breathless laugh as he cradles you closer. “Well, I’ll be the type of person you’ll want to stay with darlin’. Only for you.”

Permanent Tags: @thecrownedrose @vibranium-arm @gallifreyansass@omalleysgirl22 @girlwith100names @buckysinthesinbin @aenna-4@cameronahugenerd @imsecretlyromanburki

[theclaravoyant]

Apples & Dandelions

AN ~ A potential-future-fic based on the 'Fitz' dad as the Big Bad' concept. Contains some references to canon compatible past (verbal) abuse, and themes of manipulation (via blackmail, not brainwashing etc). Rated T.

After Fitz' father sends a number of threatening messages and an ultimatum to Shield, Fitz decides it's time to confront his father. As it turns out, the apple can fall as far from the tree as it likes, especially when there's someone there to catch it.

Read below or on AO3 (~3500wd)

Apples & Dandelions

It’s the fourth time Jemma’s checked that his tac vest is sitting properly. He’d be annoyed by now if his attention weren’t swamped in his own anxieties. As it is, she works around his twisting, flapping fingers without a word. She knows the vest is fixed, she just needs something to fret over that isn’t quite directly related to the fact that Fitz is about to enter a dangerous, unpredictable confrontation with a man he barely knows, but who has his emotions on a knife’s edge.

“You shouldn’t be going.” Daisy’s standing on the other side of them, by the table, biting a nail but otherwise keeping her body as still as possible, as if unlocking her feet from this position will result in her forcibly stopping Fitz from leaving. “It shouldn’t be you.”

Fitz shakes his head, and though he wishes his tone could sound a bit more solid when he says it aloud, he stands by his words.

“I have to go. This the man that thinks I’m an idiot, and he wants to take us down. I won’t let him play mind games with you – he’ll have us all at each other’s throats or our own before we know what hit us. No. It’s too dangerous. It has to be me.”

“It has to be us,” Jemma corrects him. Mack comes in to stand by Daisy, and May hovers by the door, a visual reminder that he’s not alone. Fitz smiles a little. It hurts his heart to let them follow him, to let them endanger themselves on his behalf, but he knows they’d never have it any other way.

“Right. Us.” He squeezes Jemma’s hand and she smiles up at him, a proud if slightly sorrowful smile. She’s worried too.

“Fitz,” May beckons. “It’s time.”

He sighs and clips his pistol into its holster. He looks around at the team solemnly and it feels a little like they’re seeing him off to war.

“We’re right here,” Daisy reminds him. They’ll be on comms the whole time. Right beside him. He finally manages to force the air out of his lungs and draw in more, and follows May with his head held high.

-

Standing at the door, Fitz feels a metallic tang in his mouth. He wonders if his arms might suddenly become so weak he can’t push the door open. He wonders if his tongue is going to stick to the roof of his mouth, or if the sight of his father will manage to chase the words away to behind that white sheet of aphasia. He can only imagine what would happen then.

Clenching a fist, he listens to Daisy’s steady breathing on the other end of the comm link. At this very moment she’s sitting in a room full of everyone who loves him. Everyone he is about to stop his father taking away.

Fitz pushes the door open and finds it easy. Surprisingly easy. Almost suspiciously so. But then it clangs shut behind him, a dry sound that seems to cut through the air in this place, and suck it out. It feels like he’s been swallowed by something; a giant whale made of concrete and steel.

“Fitz,” Jemma breathes, and he nods – reassuring her, reassuring himself.

He steps forward slowly, an ant…not quite an ant, a cat perhaps, in this giant space. The warehouse towers above his head and stretches out all around. He wonders if anyone would be able to hear him scream standing at the other end of it, and he wonders by what miracle they couldn’t already hear his heart. Slowly, frustratingly slowly, he makes his way to a table in the middle of the room. There’s a setup of servers and crates around it – a makeshift computer lab – and two men in black stand guard with machine guns almost as long as Fitz is tall.

“Leopold.”

He doesn’t recognise the voice, of course he wouldn’t, but it grates on him. It’s the voice that cuts through him like a knife every time someone uses his first name, and though he’s forgotten what it sounds like he remembers how it feels. Like it’s turned his heart black, rotting and hollow. Like whoever speaks it has the power to carve his insides out and make him nothing.

“Arthur,” he greets in return. It doesn’t carry the same weight – a power play is not nearly as strong when it’s that obvious – but it makes him feel a little better. It makes him feel at least like he can try, even when his father waves the guards away and snorts with laughter.

Fitz’ father shakes his head, drawing himself slowly out of the chair in the midst of the lab setup as if he’s about to coach an overzealous child out of their dreams. Fitz would hardly consider being summoned under the threat of, essentially, the blackmail-and-or-torture of his closest friends to be a dream, but as long as his father doesn’t try to touch him or charm him or Leopold him again, he might just be able to stomach it.

“Why did you come here?” Fitz’ father asks. Fitz is confused for a second, and feels a flare of anger in his chest, and something akin to hurt.

“You…told me to. You told me to come.”

The warehouse swallows his words and he regrets having opened his mouth. His father leans in rather than stepping closer, cupping his ear.

“What’s that?” he teased. “Cat’s got your tongue?”

“You told me to come!” Fitz shouts – more of a yelp, really, but it’s too late to do anything about that now. His father laughs again and it sends a shiver down his spine.

“No, no, my dear boy. I told you to prove yourself.”

“How?”

He hears it almost immediately, as if another set of doors has clanged shut behind him. He’s walked right into his father’s trap, fallen into a pit he may not be able to climb back from. His father’s mocking smirk spreads into a hungry grin, watching, waiting for Fitz to trip over himself, just like this. To prove him right.

His father gestures to a set of folders on the table and Fitz can’t help but follow the gesture to study them. Basic manila folders, some thicker than others, laid out overlapping each other. In small, surprisingly neat, hauntingly familiar handwriting he sees at the top of each, names are written. Lance Hunter. Bobbi Morse. Antoine Triplett.

Fitz lifts his eyes back up and his father must be able to see the fear in them.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he commands.

-

Jemma takes another deep, calculated breath.

1…2…3. Out, 2…3…

1…2- 3. No, it’s okay, breathe, 2…3…

The seconds stretch on. Long, painful seconds. She wonders if anyone else is as worried as she is, and tries not to rock from one foot to the other. As it is, her fingers are already buried in the top of Daisy’s chair. Is it distracting, the way she bristles? It’s not like she could do much more than she’s doing about it anyway.

“D’you think-“ she requests haltingly. “Could we get- by any chance – a visual?”

Daisy almost lunges at the keyboard. She’s been sinking herself into a meditative state, not very successfully, for the last few minutes and her heartbeat is at a reasonable if high level and she hasn’t broken anything yet, but she’s been dying for someone to ask. Dying to do something even if it’s not race out there and give Fitz backup, or beat his father into the dust.

The CCTV at the warehouse has been deactivated, and most of the cameras have been smashed for good measure, but eventually, Daisy finds something. Her fingers hover.

“What?” Jemma wonders, and Daisy can hear the tightness of her chest in her voice. “Why aren’t you doing things?” Some computer nonsense would be really comforting right now.

“I think…he knows,” Daisy explains. “All the other cameras are destroyed except this one. Is it like a supergenius evil villain to forget to dismantle the surveillance of his lair? One specific item of surveillance?”

Jemma presses her lips together.

“Could you do it, though?” Coulson wonders, passing a foam ball from one hand to the other. He only squeezes it with the flesh-and-blood one; in the other, it would burst.

“Of course.”

“Then do it,” Mack suggests. “If Fitz knows we’re here and he knows we’re here, we might as well actually be there.”

Daisy takes a deep breath. She checks the other faces in the room and decides she has the go-ahead, so she taps in and brings the last surviving camera under control. And of course, it’s the one with the best view of both Fitz and his father, standing on either side of a table that’s surrounded by boxes and cords. They’re glaring at each other like they’re about to have some sort of duel.

Fitz has one pistol strapped to his leg and another at the small of his back. He hasn't drawn either, and there’s no weapons Daisy can see on his father. Daisy wishes she could comfort herself with the thought that it’s because Fitz’ father doesn’t want to hurt him, but already she can feel the cold creep into her veins. She remembers the way it had clawed at her lungs on the deck of the aircraft carrier; how her heart had struggled to pump and the bridge of her nose had felt like it was going to snap in half; how her knees had given way beneath her as her mother had drawn the life from her with her own two hands.

Daisy swallows hard and slowly clenches a fist. It’s going to be a long day.

Then -

“Elena Rodriguez,” Fitz’ father says, as if it means something. His voice is syrupy. And more Americanised than she’d been expecting.

It takes a moment, but Daisy jumps. They shouldn’t have been able to hear him. Beside her head, Jemma’s nails clench the chair so tightly Daisy can almost feel the leather and stuffing begin to rip. She wonders what Jemma would do if she got within punching distance of Mr Fitz’ face. Probably the same thing she herself would. Daisy grinds her teeth together. He definitely knows they’re here, and he’s probably going to use that. Should she tell Fitz, not tell Fitz? Her fretting is distracted by his reply:

“Colombian,” Fitz says. “Nice voice, nice hair. Probably thinks my Spanish is the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard.”

Elena snorts. It’s true, but that doesn’t mean she approves of this bastardo using it against her friend.

-

“You speak Spanish?” his father challenges.

Fitz says nothing. He can’t. His Spanish is infamously terrible and his father would only laugh. And the only words he can remember at this very moment are, funnily enough, ay carumba! He could bring up how he learnt Hebrew, Arabic and Latin too, but he has nothing to prove it. How, how could he look mobsters and terrorists in the face and speak and be faced with his father and –

“Nothing?” His father tuts and shakes his head. “Can’t say I didn’t see that one coming.”

Fitz clenches his fist. He knows, they know, he’s better than this. They’re all in his head, standing right beside him. He has to remember. He is better in every way than his father believes him to be. He is worthwhile and he is standing here and he is going to get out of this game.

“But you didn’t know it,” he points out. That was the challenge, after all, wasn’t it? He raises an eyebrow at his father and maybe – just maybe – catches a flicker of respect. Then his father puts Elena’s file down and picks up another, and Fitz feels like he’s just stepped up a level in difficulty.

“Lincoln Campbell.”

“Made great popcorn.” Fitz smiles, a little bitterly, and hopes Daisy gets a smile out of it to, even though his father shoots him a glare. Technically, though, Fitz has beaten the game, so he slaps the file down with irritation and picks up another. He points at Fitz with it, jabbing the air, irritated at the table between them. He grinds his teeth together. He put it between them, he can take it away.

Fitz’ father rounds the table, and watches a shiver of fear run through his son. It’s taking all Fitz has not to take a step back, but he resists. His father jabs the file at his chest one more time. The manila card bends and flexes, harmless against his tac vest, but he starts to itch, claustrophobic all of a sudden in this giant space.

“No more tricks,” his father growls. “Facts. Proof.”

Fitz nods before he even knows what he’s doing. Not that it matters; he doesn’t have any choice. Still, he clenches his fist and stops himself. The stakes are getting higher. He must keep control. He must. He can.

“Jemma Simmons.”

“Scoliosis adjustment surgery when she was twelve.”

Medical records were the first thing he thought of and he knows so much about Jemma that it leaps from his tongue. His father’s clearly not expecting that, but doesn’t give him the satisfaction of showing it for long before folding Jemma’s file carefully, pointedly closed. He puts it on the table in a separate file of things to follow up on.

“She also has a scar on her leg from where she stitched herself up on an alien planet,” Fitz adds, his blood burning. He relishes the burst of confidence. “But they don’t have much in the way of medical records in space.”

“Then it can’t be proven,” his father points out, feigning indifference. “So we move on. Alphonso Mackenzie. Mack, isn’t it?”

-

Fitz is frozen, not the video, that much Daisy can tell. She looks around at the others uncertainly. They can feel the tension in this room almost as if they’re down in the warehouse. They’re all looking at each other. Jemma is looking at Mack. Mack is staring at the screen, waiting, listening. Fitz seems stuck on what to say. He can’t play games anymore, for fear of whatever his father has in waiting, but he can’t say anything he can’t prove, either – like about the shotgun-axe. Mack wonders if Fitz remembers he has a brother. That, he could prove. But that might mean putting more people in danger, and maybe Fitz is avoiding it on purpose. There must be something else.

“Give me that,” Mack says gruffly, reaching a hand out to Daisy. She unclips the comm unit from the console and passes it over to him, curious. Elena is watching him with a solemn expression, and as Mack leans over the counter with a tight sigh, she rests a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Mack greets Fitz, who does a very good job of not reacting too much to the new voice in his ear. “Tell him – Tell him I had a daughter, born April 16, 2006. Hope, her name was.”

“Her name was Hope,” they hear Fitz echo. His eyes drop to the floor for a moment, feeling the weight of it settle over him. Mack has never mentioned her before and tears fill his eyes as he thinks about the implications of it all. Especially had.

Mack puts the comm unit back in its setting and everyone in the room lowers their eyes, one by one, giving him as much space as they can, and feeling bad for staring. Daisy’s eyes drift meaninglessly over the console, her heart aching with the knowledge that now two of her friends are suffering instead of one, and she almost doesn’t notice Fitz raise his clenched fist on the video. She sees, but doesn’t register it, until Fitz shouts over something his father says –

“Well he would’ve been a better dad than you were!”

-

Fitz’ dad raises his eyebrows.

“Excuse me?”

No turning back now. Fitz can see his heartbeat in his eyes and it feels like he’s facing down anyone who’s ever betrayed him.

“He would have been a better dad than you were,” he repeats, in a low, dangerous voice. He maps out, in his head, what he’s going to do if his father tries to attack him. He’s got two pistols, he could get at least one up. He could duck under the table. He could knee him in the groin.

“Hope,” his father growls back, “is dead. How much fathering’d your friend get to do in four days, hm?”

A vision flashes into Fitz’ head, of Mack holding a tiny baby girl, so softly, like a bird. He opens his mouth and no words come out, it’s so violently horrible to think that he’s handed over that image, that vulnerability to his father.

“Huh?” His father challenges the ceiling and the walls. “How much? Did you read her stories? Did you wipe her arse? Did you throw a little baseball around or listen to her natter on about bloody monkeys all day?”

Fitz looks around, his heart pounding, his eyes awash with fury and tears.

“It’s alright,” Daisy assures him, just before his father booms:

“Did you think I wouldn’t have my own team checking up everything you say? Did you think I’d sit here, in perfect view of the camera – “ he points to the only working one, the one Daisy’s hacked – “and let you watch me like some sadistic voyeurs? No, no, Leopold. You have your friends, I have mine. And there’s only one friend of yours I can think of that could have given my friends this much trouble.”

He pauses at the table, and taps his fingers on the cover of the last remaining file. There’s only one friend, Fitz knows, who is glaringly left. And it’s the thickest file on the table. Fitz laughs – a cold, hollow, pained laugh like a man who knows the circumstances of his death are going to be particularly ironic.

“This was never about me at all, was it?” he checks. “You always wanted Daisy. This whole time. Of course you did.”

The tension in the room is no longer suffocating him. It crackles through him, like electricity. Like fury in his veins, and sickening terror, working together to keep him alive because if he doesn’t get out now, it’s too late.

“Okay, okay, something you don’t know –“ the words are springing from his lips now, everything he’d wanted to say since he’d walked in here. “- I am never going to give her to you. No matter what you do or say, or try to goad me into doing or saying. No matter how stupid or worthless you’re going to try to make me think I am…no matter how you blackmail me, or my friends, none of us are ever going to give her to you because we love her. And she sure as hell loves me more than you ever did.

“And you know what? I thought she was a pain in the ass, too, when I first met her. High school dropout, unqualified hacker-slash-troublemaker. I thought she was going to get us all killed, I really did, but she ended up saving my life. A lot of times. In more ways than one. Okay?

“And she reminded me that– that just because people don’t treat you with love, it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it and it doesn’t mean you can’t be loving anyway. And she taught me that you can be brilliant - Absolutely. Brilliant. - without abusing yourself over it and without jumping all those hoops you held out for me.”

Blood singing with freedom, Fitz pulls the pistol from the small of his back and points it dead at his father’s chest with a surprisingly steady hand. He peers down the barrel for a moment to check his aim, and then stares into his father’s eyes. He seems to be finding this amusing. Well. Fitz’ eyes glint with steel, and he tightens his grip. The hurt and fury and liberation are eating him up like a storm, it’s exhausting, but he just has to cling to it for a few more seconds…

“And do you know what else she taught me, Da?” Fitz breaths, his voice low and dangerous. He steps up – one, two, three strides, until the nose of his pistol is pressing firmly into his father’s chest. His father looks down at him with a sardonic expression, as if the barrel pressed to his chest would do no more damage than a water pistol. Go on then, he’s saying. Go on then, if you’re so Good.

Fitz smiles, and finds it surprisingly easy to do so. He’s been expecting this exact reaction. Perhaps he does have more of his father’s manipulation skills in him than he’d thought.

“She taught me, I don’t need you to tell me who I am.”

And then he pulls the trigger.

(It’s an Icer, of course, and the team come down as quickly as possible to help him clean up and clear out the operation. Then Daisy hugs him so tight and for so long, he forgets what it feels like to stand alone.)

[foursprout-blog]

16 Tiny Stories of Regret that Will Change the Way You Live

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/happiness/16-tiny-stories-of-regret-that-will-change-the-way-you-live/

16 Tiny Stories of Regret that Will Change the Way You Live

Ten years from now, it won’t really matter what shoes you wore today, how your hair looked, or what brand of clothes you wore.  What will matter is how you lived, how you loved, and what you learned along the way.

Deep down you know this already, right?

Yet today, just like the majority of us, you are easily distracted and derailed by the insignificant.

You give too much of your time to meaningless time-wasters.

You step through days, skeptically, with inner resistance.

You take your important relationships for granted.

You get caught up in hurtful drama.

You give in to your doubts.

And the list goes on.

But why?

Why do you follow these hurtful patterns of behavior?

Why do you set yourself up for regret when you know better?

Because you’re human, and human beings are imperfect creatures that make misjudgments constantly.  We get caught up in our own heads, and literally don’t know our lives to be any better than the few things that aren’t going our way.  And as our minds subconsciously dwell on these things, we try to distract ourselves to numb the tension we feel.  But by doing so, we also distract ourselves from what matters most.

We scrutinize and dramatize the petty annoyances in our lives until we’re blue in the face, and then we sit back and scratch our heads in bewilderment of how unfulfilling and empty life feels.

But the older we grow, the more focused we tend to become, and the less pointless drama, distraction and busyness we engage in.  Life humbles us gradually as we age.  We begin to realize just how much nonsense we’ve wasted time on.  And we begin to adjust our focus toward what’s truly important.

Are you ready to adjust your focus?

Today, I challenge you to be an old soul—to adjust your focus sooner rather than later . . . to dodge the avoidable regret and stress on the horizon.

How?

There are many approaches, but let’s start by learning from other people’s stories . . .

Stories of Subtle Regret, to Help You Live Well

Over the past decade, via our blog, Getting Back to Happy course (and coaching), side projects, and live annual conferences, Angel and I have been blessed by the amazing stories that people around the world have shared with us.  And right now, with full permission from the original sources, I want to share powerful snippets from twelve of these stories with you.  These are super short but incredibly focused accounts of life, decision-making, and the subtle regrets that sneak up on us along the way.

There’s definitely something for all of us to learn (or re-learn) here:

“I recently met a super wealthy and influential businessman at a corporate conference—the man has a net worth of over a hundred million dollars.  In conversation, he told me he regretted never making it to his son’s hockey games or his daughter’s dance recitals.  It made me smile because my total net worth is probably only as much as this man’s last paycheck, but I’ve made it to everything, and my two children always smile and wave to me in the stands during practice and on game days.”

“Today is the 14th day in a row that my 87-year-old nursing home patient’s granddaughter has come to visit him.  Two weeks ago, I told her that the only time I see her grandfather smile all week is when she visits him on Saturday afternoons.”

“In the final decade of his life, my grandfather woke up every single day at 7 A.M., picked a fresh wild flower on his morning walk, and took it to my grandmother.  One morning, I decided to go with him to see her.  And as he placed the flower on her gravestone, he looked up at me and said, ‘I just wish I had picked her a fresh flower every morning when she was alive.  She really would have loved that.’”

“Last night my best friend since childhood was put in the hospital for attempting suicide.  She’s always listened to my petty problems and asked me how I was feeling.  But I’m sitting here in tears now, and realizing that I rarely ever asked her how she was feeling because she always seemed like she had the perfect life in my eyes.”

“Earlier today, in the last few hours of her life, she told me her only regret was that she didn’t appreciate every year with the same passion and purpose that she has had in the last two years after she was diagnosed with terminal cancer. ‘I’ve accomplished so much recently,’ she said. ‘If I had only known, I would have started sooner.’”

“Today, after spending the past three years constantly hassling and bickering with the 20-something who lives and parties next door, I found myself crying in his arms and thanking him repeatedly for saving my son’s life.”

“This morning at a train stop near the hospital, a man and his three young kids got on.  The kids were loud and completely out of control, running from one end of the train car to the other.  An annoyed passenger sitting next to me looked over at the man and asked, ‘Is there a reason you’re letting your kids go nuts right now?’  The man looked up with tears in his eyes and said, ‘The doc just told me their mother isn’t going to make it.  Sorry, I’m just trying to think before we all sit down at home to talk about this.’  And, of course, the annoyed passenger was speechless.”

“Today my son turned seven, and I turned 23.  Yes, I had him on the day I turned 16.  Many of the choices I made when I was a teenager were beyond foolish, and I still have my regrets.  And even though I know I’ve grown, I sometimes I get worried that I’m bringing my son up wrong—that I’m somehow subconsciously passing my past foolishness on to him.  But today I took him to the park to celebrate our birthdays.  He played for two hours with a girl who has burn scars that cover most of her neck and face.  When my son took a break to eat a snack, he pointed to her and said, ‘She’s really pretty and cool!’  Which left me thinking, ‘I must be doing something right as a mom.’”

“The ‘biggest nerd’ in my 2004 high school graduation class—a nice, quiet boy who I wasn’t very nice to—is now the heart surgeon who saved my mom’s life after she suffered from a sudden heart attack at 68 last night.”

“As my grandfather rested in his hospital bed this evening, desperately fighting pancreatic cancer, he squeezed my hand tight and said, ‘Promise me, no matter how good or bad you have it, you will wake up every morning thankful for your life.  Because every morning you wake up, someone somewhere else will be desperately fighting for theirs.  It’s something so simple and important that I never valued until now.’”

“I was recently reunited with an old friend after nine years of silence between us.  Throughout high school and college, we were best friends.  Then just before college graduation we got into a nasty fight over a boy.  Terrible, hateful words were exchanged and we never spoke again, until today.  And as we hugged each other, and cried, we acknowledged how irrelevant that boy is now.”

“I am a 27-year-old mom to four beautiful children. Everyone in my family told me I was too young to have kids at 20.  And there were admittedly a few regret-filled times in my past when I deeply doubted myself and my decision to be a young mom.  But what nobody anticipated, including myself, is that at age 26 I would be diagnosed with a rare fallopian tube infection, requiring a full hysterectomy.  Now when people say I look too young to have four kids, I feel incredibly blessed.”

“Today my daughter firmly confronted me with the fact that my biggest fear, a fear that has undoubtedly held me back from many life experiences, has never come true.  And I am turning 76-years-old tomorrow.”

“This morning one of my regular customers, a really grumpy elderly man who has been eating in our diner every morning for the better part of five years, left me $1,000 in cash for his $7 breakfast.  Alongside the cash he left a small note that read, ‘Thank you, Christine.  I know I haven’t been the brightest smile in your life, and I know we’ve even exchanged rude remarks a few times over the years, but your smile and generally hospitable service have sincerely given me something to look forward to every morning since my wife passed away.  I wanted to say thank you.  I’m moving eight hours down the road this afternoon to live with my son and his family.  May the rest of your life be magical.’”

“I sat down with my two daughters, ages six and eight, this afternoon to explain to them that we have to move out of our four-bedroom house and into a two-bedroom apartment for a year or two until I can find another job and build our savings back up.  It’s a conversation I’ve been avoiding for over a month, as I’ve struggled with the doubts and regrets of not being able to provide a financially stable household for us.  But my daughters just looked at each other after I told them, and then my youngest daughter turned to me and asked, ‘Are we all moving into that apartment together?’  ‘Of course,’ I immediately replied.  ‘Oh, so no big deal then,’ she said.”

“This afternoon I was looking through an old Windows laptop that my dad used seven years ago before he lost his battle with colon cancer.  The laptop has been sitting around collecting dust at my mom’s house ever since.  In a folder named ‘Video Project’ oddly placed at the root of the C: drive, I found a video file my dad made about a month before he died that my mom and I had never seen before.  In the 15-minue video my dad talks about my mom and me, how grateful he is to have had the chance to a be part of our lives, and that he has no regrets at all about anything in his life—that he is totally at peace.  He ended by saying, “I know you two will miss me, but please smile for me, because I’ve lived well and I’m OK.  Really, I’m OK.”

Let Go & Let Appreciation Fuel Your Next Step

I hope the stories above made you think about how to improve your approach in certain life situations.  But, perhaps some of them also reminded you of how you’re falling short.  If it’s the latter, I want you to take a deep breath right now.  Remember that you don’t have to be defined by the things you did or didn’t do in the past.  Don’t let yourself be controlled by regret.  Maybe there’s something you could have done differently, or maybe not.  Either way, it’s merely something that’s already happened.

Do your best to cleanse your heart and mind.

How?

With focused presence and appreciation.

Just this morning, for example, after coming to terms with a regretful business decision I recently made, and after writing my heart out for an hour, I went for a long jog at the beach . . . sea foam kissing my feet with each step, white sand footprints behind me, and the morning sky bursting with bright colors overhead.

At the end of my jog I turned toward the ocean and took several deep breaths, mostly because the sky, and the Atlantic, had momentarily taken my breath away.

I stood there on the sand and applauded.  Yes, I literally clapped my hands in recognition.

Because this is the only response life truly deserves: a fully present, appreciative applause.

Today, wherever you are, whatever regrets or circumstances you’re dealing with, take a moment to really appreciate this gift we call life, and applaud.

Then do your best to give back to life.  Do something—anything—to show your gratitude for this imperfect miracle you’ve been given.  Be kind to a stranger, create something others can use, be loving to your family . . . make a small difference in your own unique way.

And see how it feels.

Your turn…

Before you go, let me ask you a quick question:

Which story (or point) above resonates the most with you right now?

And how might reminding yourself of it, daily, change your life?

Leave a comment below and share your thoughts.

Also, our next annual Think Better, Live Better conference is taking place February 10-11, 2018 in San Diego.  Two discounted early bird tickets are still available today (while they last).

[foursprouthappiness-blog]

16 Tiny Stories of Regret that Will Change the Way You Live

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/happiness/16-tiny-stories-of-regret-that-will-change-the-way-you-live/

16 Tiny Stories of Regret that Will Change the Way You Live

Ten years from now, it won’t really matter what shoes you wore today, how your hair looked, or what brand of clothes you wore.  What will matter is how you lived, how you loved, and what you learned along the way.

Deep down you know this already, right?

Yet today, just like the majority of us, you are easily distracted and derailed by the insignificant.

You give too much of your time to meaningless time-wasters.

You step through days, skeptically, with inner resistance.

You take your important relationships for granted.

You get caught up in hurtful drama.

You give in to your doubts.

And the list goes on.

But why?

Why do you follow these hurtful patterns of behavior?

Why do you set yourself up for regret when you know better?

Because you’re human, and human beings are imperfect creatures that make misjudgments constantly.  We get caught up in our own heads, and literally don’t know our lives to be any better than the few things that aren’t going our way.  And as our minds subconsciously dwell on these things, we try to distract ourselves to numb the tension we feel.  But by doing so, we also distract ourselves from what matters most.

We scrutinize and dramatize the petty annoyances in our lives until we’re blue in the face, and then we sit back and scratch our heads in bewilderment of how unfulfilling and empty life feels.

But the older we grow, the more focused we tend to become, and the less pointless drama, distraction and busyness we engage in.  Life humbles us gradually as we age.  We begin to realize just how much nonsense we’ve wasted time on.  And we begin to adjust our focus toward what’s truly important.

Are you ready to adjust your focus?

Today, I challenge you to be an old soul—to adjust your focus sooner rather than later . . . to dodge the avoidable regret and stress on the horizon.

How?

There are many approaches, but let’s start by learning from other people’s stories . . .

Stories of Subtle Regret, to Help You Live Well

Over the past decade, via our blog, Getting Back to Happy course (and coaching), side projects, and live annual conferences, Angel and I have been blessed by the amazing stories that people around the world have shared with us.  And right now, with full permission from the original sources, I want to share powerful snippets from twelve of these stories with you.  These are super short but incredibly focused accounts of life, decision-making, and the subtle regrets that sneak up on us along the way.

There’s definitely something for all of us to learn (or re-learn) here:

“I recently met a super wealthy and influential businessman at a corporate conference—the man has a net worth of over a hundred million dollars.  In conversation, he told me he regretted never making it to his son’s hockey games or his daughter’s dance recitals.  It made me smile because my total net worth is probably only as much as this man’s last paycheck, but I’ve made it to everything, and my two children always smile and wave to me in the stands during practice and on game days.”

“Today is the 14th day in a row that my 87-year-old nursing home patient’s granddaughter has come to visit him.  Two weeks ago, I told her that the only time I see her grandfather smile all week is when she visits him on Saturday afternoons.”

“In the final decade of his life, my grandfather woke up every single day at 7 A.M., picked a fresh wild flower on his morning walk, and took it to my grandmother.  One morning, I decided to go with him to see her.  And as he placed the flower on her gravestone, he looked up at me and said, ‘I just wish I had picked her a fresh flower every morning when she was alive.  She really would have loved that.’”

“Last night my best friend since childhood was put in the hospital for attempting suicide.  She’s always listened to my petty problems and asked me how I was feeling.  But I’m sitting here in tears now, and realizing that I rarely ever asked her how she was feeling because she always seemed like she had the perfect life in my eyes.”

“Earlier today, in the last few hours of her life, she told me her only regret was that she didn’t appreciate every year with the same passion and purpose that she has had in the last two years after she was diagnosed with terminal cancer. ‘I’ve accomplished so much recently,’ she said. ‘If I had only known, I would have started sooner.’”

“Today, after spending the past three years constantly hassling and bickering with the 20-something who lives and parties next door, I found myself crying in his arms and thanking him repeatedly for saving my son’s life.”

“This morning at a train stop near the hospital, a man and his three young kids got on.  The kids were loud and completely out of control, running from one end of the train car to the other.  An annoyed passenger sitting next to me looked over at the man and asked, ‘Is there a reason you’re letting your kids go nuts right now?’  The man looked up with tears in his eyes and said, ‘The doc just told me their mother isn’t going to make it.  Sorry, I’m just trying to think before we all sit down at home to talk about this.’  And, of course, the annoyed passenger was speechless.”

“Today my son turned seven, and I turned 23.  Yes, I had him on the day I turned 16.  Many of the choices I made when I was a teenager were beyond foolish, and I still have my regrets.  And even though I know I’ve grown, I sometimes I get worried that I’m bringing my son up wrong—that I’m somehow subconsciously passing my past foolishness on to him.  But today I took him to the park to celebrate our birthdays.  He played for two hours with a girl who has burn scars that cover most of her neck and face.  When my son took a break to eat a snack, he pointed to her and said, ‘She’s really pretty and cool!’  Which left me thinking, ‘I must be doing something right as a mom.’”

“The ‘biggest nerd’ in my 2004 high school graduation class—a nice, quiet boy who I wasn’t very nice to—is now the heart surgeon who saved my mom’s life after she suffered from a sudden heart attack at 68 last night.”

“As my grandfather rested in his hospital bed this evening, desperately fighting pancreatic cancer, he squeezed my hand tight and said, ‘Promise me, no matter how good or bad you have it, you will wake up every morning thankful for your life.  Because every morning you wake up, someone somewhere else will be desperately fighting for theirs.  It’s something so simple and important that I never valued until now.’”

“I was recently reunited with an old friend after nine years of silence between us.  Throughout high school and college, we were best friends.  Then just before college graduation we got into a nasty fight over a boy.  Terrible, hateful words were exchanged and we never spoke again, until today.  And as we hugged each other, and cried, we acknowledged how irrelevant that boy is now.”

“I am a 27-year-old mom to four beautiful children. Everyone in my family told me I was too young to have kids at 20.  And there were admittedly a few regret-filled times in my past when I deeply doubted myself and my decision to be a young mom.  But what nobody anticipated, including myself, is that at age 26 I would be diagnosed with a rare fallopian tube infection, requiring a full hysterectomy.  Now when people say I look too young to have four kids, I feel incredibly blessed.”

“Today my daughter firmly confronted me with the fact that my biggest fear, a fear that has undoubtedly held me back from many life experiences, has never come true.  And I am turning 76-years-old tomorrow.”

“This morning one of my regular customers, a really grumpy elderly man who has been eating in our diner every morning for the better part of five years, left me $1,000 in cash for his $7 breakfast.  Alongside the cash he left a small note that read, ‘Thank you, Christine.  I know I haven’t been the brightest smile in your life, and I know we’ve even exchanged rude remarks a few times over the years, but your smile and generally hospitable service have sincerely given me something to look forward to every morning since my wife passed away.  I wanted to say thank you.  I’m moving eight hours down the road this afternoon to live with my son and his family.  May the rest of your life be magical.’”

“I sat down with my two daughters, ages six and eight, this afternoon to explain to them that we have to move out of our four-bedroom house and into a two-bedroom apartment for a year or two until I can find another job and build our savings back up.  It’s a conversation I’ve been avoiding for over a month, as I’ve struggled with the doubts and regrets of not being able to provide a financially stable household for us.  But my daughters just looked at each other after I told them, and then my youngest daughter turned to me and asked, ‘Are we all moving into that apartment together?’  ‘Of course,’ I immediately replied.  ‘Oh, so no big deal then,’ she said.”

“This afternoon I was looking through an old Windows laptop that my dad used seven years ago before he lost his battle with colon cancer.  The laptop has been sitting around collecting dust at my mom’s house ever since.  In a folder named ‘Video Project’ oddly placed at the root of the C: drive, I found a video file my dad made about a month before he died that my mom and I had never seen before.  In the 15-minue video my dad talks about my mom and me, how grateful he is to have had the chance to a be part of our lives, and that he has no regrets at all about anything in his life—that he is totally at peace.  He ended by saying, “I know you two will miss me, but please smile for me, because I’ve lived well and I’m OK.  Really, I’m OK.”

Let Go & Let Appreciation Fuel Your Next Step

I hope the stories above made you think about how to improve your approach in certain life situations.  But, perhaps some of them also reminded you of how you’re falling short.  If it’s the latter, I want you to take a deep breath right now.  Remember that you don’t have to be defined by the things you did or didn’t do in the past.  Don’t let yourself be controlled by regret.  Maybe there’s something you could have done differently, or maybe not.  Either way, it’s merely something that’s already happened.

Do your best to cleanse your heart and mind.

How?

With focused presence and appreciation.

Just this morning, for example, after coming to terms with a regretful business decision I recently made, and after writing my heart out for an hour, I went for a long jog at the beach . . . sea foam kissing my feet with each step, white sand footprints behind me, and the morning sky bursting with bright colors overhead.

At the end of my jog I turned toward the ocean and took several deep breaths, mostly because the sky, and the Atlantic, had momentarily taken my breath away.

I stood there on the sand and applauded.  Yes, I literally clapped my hands in recognition.

Because this is the only response life truly deserves: a fully present, appreciative applause.

Today, wherever you are, whatever regrets or circumstances you’re dealing with, take a moment to really appreciate this gift we call life, and applaud.

Then do your best to give back to life.  Do something—anything—to show your gratitude for this imperfect miracle you’ve been given.  Be kind to a stranger, create something others can use, be loving to your family . . . make a small difference in your own unique way.

And see how it feels.

Your turn…

Before you go, let me ask you a quick question:

Which story (or point) above resonates the most with you right now?

And how might reminding yourself of it, daily, change your life?

Leave a comment below and share your thoughts.

Also, our next annual Think Better, Live Better conference is taking place February 10-11, 2018 in San Diego.  Two discounted early bird tickets are still available today (while they last).