#haven’t stored that information for some reason

[themoskabot]

i don’t think i’ve ever seen demi moore in anything but i always recognize her if i see a picture or smth on the internet cuz i can’t get it out of my head that one time years ago someone said my mom resembled demi moore and now if i see someone who has the vaguest resemblance to my mom i’m like yeahp that’s demi moore and every time i’m right

[pedrospatch]

safe and sound

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Your daughter has a nightmare—her daddy makes it all better.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. slight canon age deviations (Joel is 56, Ellie is 17) READER’S AGE IS NOT SPECIFIED. she’s a child bearing adult woman so do with that information what you will. established relationship, reader and Joel have a toddler (her age is not specified in fic but she’s 3 ish years old), reader has NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION and neither does their child except she has Joel’s eyes and his dark curls, no mentions of her skintone. Joel and Ellie are fine bc he deserves it, Joel’s an overprotective girl dad, reader is the chill parent. implications of a toddler being told about clickers, bad dreams, almost smut, Joel and reader get cockblocked, SOFT Joel who comforts his babygirl, mention of Sarah towards the end. very minimal editing.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: listen, i love me some daddy joel but tonight i needed a bit of actual daddy joel. this was whipped up last minute bc i haven’t had the best weekend and needed some comfort. also i didn’t have the mental capacity or energy to come up with a moodboard, so gif it is.

Joel looks down at the old, worn book in his hand.

Winnie the Pooh.

He never would have imagined it. This.

Reading a bedtime story to a toddler. His toddler.

He’s in his fifties—he shouldn’t have a toddler.

He shouldn’t have a teenager, either.

Yet, he has both.

The toddler has his blood, the teenager doesn’t.

But that doesn’t matter to him.

Joel still considers her to be his own kid.

Only, she’s not a kid anymore, not really.

She’s seventeen now. She doesn’t need him much anymore, not the way that his toddler needs him.

“Ellie’s not coming home tonight,” you’d said from where you stood at the stove, stirring in chunks of potato and chopped carrots into the pot of stew in front of you. “There’s a birthday party down at the bar. She’s going with Dina and Jesse.” You can feel the look of disapproval on his face and add, “I said she could go, Joel. She asked me permission.”

“She didn’t ask me,” he’d gruffed. He looked down at the little girl sitting in his lap, scribbling away on an old state map. He had given it to her along with the pack of crayons he’d found during patrol when his group stumbled across a schoolhouse. Though crumbling on the outside, the inside had remained untouched throughout the last two decades—little coats hanging over the back of little chairs, papers scattered all over little desks, little lunch boxes still stored in their cubbies at the back of the room. He instructed the group to search for anything useful, anything that Jackson’s teachers could use for the children in their classrooms. Joel knew that taking without trading was against the rules, but that did nothing to stop him from secretly slipping the box of crayons into his jacket pocket when no one had been looking.

His daughter’s squeals of delight when he’d gifted them to her had been well worth the theft.

“Because she knew you’d say no to her.”

“I would have. Kid’s got no business going to a bar at her age. She’s fuckin’ seventeen years ol—”

The little girl had gasped and stopped coloring.

“Daddy said a bad word.”

You’d turned around and glared at him. “He did.”

She looked up at him with her wide, brown eyes.

Those she’d gotten from him. His dark curls too.

Everything else?

Her smile, her nose, her softness?

That was all you.

“M’sorry, babygirl,” he apologized, sheepishly.

“S’okay, daddy.”

And back to coloring she went.

“Joel, let’s face it. Ellie’s growing up. She’s turning eighteen in a few months and truth is, she has one foot out the door.” Crossing your arms, you leaned back against the counter. “She was telling me how she wants to turn the garage into her own space.”

“There a reason she ain’t talkin’ to me ‘bout this?”

You’d smiled wistfully at him.

“Because she knows this is hard for you, Joel.”

It is hard. Because even though she isn’t his, she’s his and he’s afraid to lose her somehow.

Joel manages to snap himself out of his thoughts.

Rosemary’s now fast asleep, her well loved stuffed bunny rabbit wrapped in her arms. She’s a handful for him during bedtime—she has too much energy and most nights, you have to step in and help him. But tonight, after her bath, he had warmed a glass of milk for her to drink and it seemed to have done the trick because within minutes of him reading to her, her eyes fluttered closed.

Joel sets the book down and leans over to brush a kiss onto her cheek, quietly whispering goodnight. “Sweet dreams, babygirl.”

He switches off the lamp on the bedside table and steps out of his child’s bedroom, being careful not to wake her as he closes the door behind him.

“I still can’t believe she fell asleep within minutes,” you say, staring at him in utter disbelief. “How?”

“Gave her a glass of warm milk before I tucked her into bed,” Joel explains, tugging on a pair of faded black sweatpants. He peels off his shirt and tosses it onto the floor before climbing into bed. “Worked like a fuckin’ charm. She’s out like a damn light.”

You set your book down and raise an eyebrow.

“Joel, I brushed her teeth before her bath.”

“I brushed them again after she drank it, darlin’.”

He outstretches his arm, beckoning for you.

Grinning, you scoot closer to him, draping an arm over his bare chest. “It’s only nine,” you tell him. “I have no idea what we’re going to do with all of this free time we have. Rosemary’s asleep, Ellie’s gone for the night.” You slowly drag your hand down his chest and over his stomach, a finger skimming the waistband of his sweatpants. You hear the way his breath catches in his throat and tease, “I guess we can actually get some good sleep for once, huh?”

Groaning, Joel rolls over and pins you down to the bed as he positions himself on top of you, his eyes glazed over with lust. “We can sleep,” he murmurs as his mouth hovers over yours. He reaches for the buttons of his flannel you’re wearing and begins to single-handedly pop them open only to find you’re not wearing anything underneath. He groans once more. “Or I can make you feel good. S’your choice, baby.”

You gasp as he nips at your chin and starts trailing his lips lower, peppering kisses down the length of your body. Heat blossoms in your lower belly as he settles himself between your thighs. Hooking both arms around them, he nibbles at the soft spot that is right below your navel, the spot you hate, but he adores. Having a child had changed your body and while you two seldom had time to yourselves to do anything of this nature, when you did find time, he never failed to make you feel like you were still just as beautiful to him, if not a thousand times more.

“Fuck,” you whimper. “Please, Joel.”

“Please what, sweetheart? What do you want?”

His voice is low, husky.

Your hands reach down and tangle in his curls.

“Your mouth, Joel. Please. I need your—”

The sound of a teeny knock at the door makes you both freeze on the spot.

“You heard that, right?” you ask him breathlessly.

There’s a second teeny knock.

It’s then followed by an even teenier voice.

“Mommy? Daddy?”

“Fuck,” Joel hisses, scrambling off the bed. “What the hell is she doin’ out of bed?” Picking his t-shirt up from the floor, he quickly throws it on, ignoring that he’d put it on inside out. Watching you as you fumble to button his flannel, he calls, “Just give us one second babygirl, alright? We’ll be right there.”

“I’m decent,” you tell him, getting the last button.

Nodding, Joel opens the bedroom door. His knees protest when he squats down, lowering himself so that he can meet Rosemary’s tearful gaze.

“S’matter, Rosie Posie?” he asks her in a soft voice that he reserves for his girls. “What happened?”

She sniffles. “I—I had a bad dream, daddy.”

You sit on the side of bed and wait patiently.

Joel has it handled. He always has it handled.

He never stopped knowing how to be a father.

“You had a bad dream?” he repeats, frowning.

Rosemary nods, clutching her rabbit to her chest.

A single tear slips down the side of her little face.

Joel reaches out, gingerly wiping it with his finger.

“M’sorry it scared you, babygirl. Tell you what, just for tonight, how about you sleep with me and your mama in our bed? That sound good?” With a small labored grunt, he scoops her into his arms. She is getting heavier and you often tell him it’s not good for his back—he can’t care less. He’ll keep picking her up until the moment his little girl decides she’s a big girl and doesn’t want him to pick her up. Joel carries her over to the bed and sits her on your lap and reminds her, “But this is just for tonight, Rosie Posie. Tomorrow night you’re back in your own big girl bed, alright?”

“Okay,” she nods again and leans against you, tiny shoulders slumping.

“Rosie? What was your dream about?” you ask her gently, wrapping your arms around her. She hardly ever has nightmares—she’s too young to know the world outside the commune’s walls, smart but still too little to understand why she cannot go outside the gates. “What did you dream about, honey?”

She hesitates, then answers, “Monsters.”

“Monsters?” Perplexed, you glance at Joel.

He seems to be just as confused as you are.

“Who did you hear that word from, babygirl?”

“Robbie.”

Your neighbor’s unruly, troublemaker son.

Joel’s jaw clenches slightly. “Thought I told you he ain’t allowed to be around her. The kid is nine, ain’t got no business bein’ around Rosemary. Little brat ain’t nothin’ but a bad influence. He’s always up to no good.” He shakes his head at you. “Said I didn’t want that boy anywhere near our daughter.”

“The kids were out playing in the snow today,” you remember. “He must have been there too. It’s kind of hard to tell who is who when they’re all bundled up and flinging snowballs at each other, Joel.” You shoot him an apologetic look. “Rosie was having a blast playing with everybody—I’m sorry. I suppose I should’ve paid more attention to who was around her.”

He bites back a sigh. He knows it’s not your fault.

Rosie’s too good of a girl, too pure and innocent to know that not everybody is her friend.

“Rosie, what did Robbie say to you?”

Again, the child hesitates.

“He said—he said monsters live outside. They bite people and turn them into monsters too. He said it happened to his daddy.” Rosemary’s eyes flit from you to Joel. “He said it would happen to you, too.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “He said that to you?”

Hands curling into fists, Joel reminds himself now isn’t the time to let his anger take over. “S’not true at all, babygirl.” He reaches over and slides her out of your lap and onto his. Like you, he wants to lie—tell her those monsters she was told about are not real, that they don’t exist. But they do exist and as much as he wishes he could keep her from finding out about all that lies beyond Jackson’s walls, Joel knows that one day, she will. “Listen to me. M’real sorry to hear ‘bout Robbie’s daddy, baby. But I can promise you, that ain’t gonna happen to me.”

She points a chubby finger at you.

“What about mommy?”

“Ain’t gonna happen to her either.”

Rosemary drops her hand, fear clear in her tone as she asks the both of you, “What about me?”

“Of course not,” you say, smoothing back her dark curls. “You’re safe here, honey. As safe as can be.”

Joel nods. “Your mama’s right, darlin’. You’re safe,” he reassured her. “You’re safe and sound.”

“I am?”

He gives her body a warm, gentle squeeze. “Mhm. Always will be. Y’know how I know that, babygirl?”

“How?”

“‘Cause. As long as daddy’s around, he will always protect you,” he promises her. “He’ll never, ever let anythin’ bad happen to you, Rosie. I swear it.” Joel kisses the top of her head, his gaze meeting yours. He murmurs his oath quietly, “On my life.”

Flashing him a small, grateful smile, you reach out and touch his forearm and he places his hand over your own.

“And mommy too?” Rosemary questions him.

“And mommy too.”

“And Ellie?”

“And Ellie,” he nods, firmly. “M’always gonna keep my girls safe. S’long as I’m around, you’re all safe.”

Rosie tiredly snuggles into his chest, yawning.

“What about you, daddy?”

“Huh?”

You squeeze his arm. “Think she’s asking you who is supposed to keep you safe, Joel.”

The little girl nods sleepily. “Yeah. Who?”

“Well.” Joel’s throat bobs nervously. He knows the moment he says what he’s about to say, there’s no going back. Not that he never planned to tell Rosie about her sister, but he’d always imagined doing it when she was older and understood death. “I—uh, I have an angel in the clouds who looks out for me. She watches over me, keeps me safe and sound.”

Rosemary’s curiosity is all that is keeping her from completely passing out in his arms.

“Really? You have an angel?”

Your heart squeezes tightly in your chest. “Joel—”

He lightly shakes his head.

“S’fine sweetheart. I don’t mind tellin’ her.”

Rosie’s fighting to stay awake just a little longer.

“Daddy? What’s your angel’s name?”

Joel answers in the steadiest voice he can muster.

“Her name was—her name is Sarah.”

“Sarah,” she mumbles, her eyes closing. “S’pretty. Your angel has a really pretty name.”

“The prettiest name,” you agree, softly.

Rosie yawns again. “Daddy?”

“What is it, babygirl?”

“Will you tell me stories about Sarah? Please?”

Joel chuckles, rubbing her back. “I sure will. I have plenty of them to tell, Rosie Posie. But not tonight. I’ll save them for tomorrow ni—”

You cut him off. “Joel?”

“Yeah?”

“She’s out cold.”

He glances down and sure enough, she’s asleep.

Moments later, the three of you are in bed. Rosie’s in the middle, curled up against Joel’s chest—your chest is pressed against her back but you’re being careful not to sandwich her in too tight in between your bodies.

In a beam of silvery moonlight shining through the bedroom window, you meet Joel’s gaze.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He chuckles. “For what? Doin’ my job and soothin’ our daughter after a bad dream?”

You smile at him.

“For being so good to her. To me and Ellie.” Lifting a hand, you reach over and cup the side of his face in your palm. “You’re so good to all three of us and I can’t even imagine what we’d do without you.”

Joel turns his face, brushing a kiss into your hand.

“I mean it,” he says, quietly. “S’long as I’m around, you girls will always be safe and sound.”

credit divider @saradika-graphics

[flemingsfreckles]

Something New (18+)

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Synopsis: you and Jessie get teased for your assumed “vanilla” sex life, you decide to take Jessie on a trip to find some new things to try in the bedroom.

Warnings: suggestion to sex, sex toys, visiting adult store, (handcuffs, blindfolds, strap-on, buttplug, vibrators), none of the toys actually being used.

WC: 2.4k

A/N: if yall want a part 2 in which the toys are actually used, I can do that :)

“Oh come on there’s got to be something you want to try that we haven’t?” You pull up the sheet from where it had been kicked off the bed, covering your naked body before laying down next to your equally naked girlfriend.

“I don’t know.” Jessie just remained lying on her back, not making eye contact with you. Her chest was still rising and falling quickly, catching her breath.

“Oh come on, don’t be shy with me, after what we just did there’s no reason to be shy.” You two had just finished what was supposed to be quick morning sex but turned into a competitive match. Giving each other orgasm after orgasm until about 11am when you both finally tapped out.

“Are you asking because of what happened at Sam’s house?” Jessie asks.

The two of you had been at a party the night before at Sam’s with the rest of the team, playing various card and board games which led quickly to playing drinking games that somehow always ended up in discussions of everyone’s sex life.

When you started dating, you and Jessie had agreed to not disclose too much about what you two do behind closed doors to your nosey teammates. It was originally an idea out of shyness on Jessie’s part, you had never minded indulging your teammates in your experience but out of respect for Jessie and your relationship you kept your mouth shut for the most part. You started to like the secrecy of what went on in your beds, no one knew the details, just you and her. So when you were asked the craziest thing you’ve done in bed, you sipped away at your drink instead of answering. Unsatisfied with your choice to not answer, Sam began to accuse you and Jessie of having an incredibly boring and “vanilla” sex life. You tried to defend yourself and Jessie, Jessie being too shy to be any help, the teasing from your teammates had only continued.

“No.” You’re quick to answer, not even really thinking. “Okay maybe, I don’t know, I don’t think our sex is boring though, I love having sex with you. It just made me think and just thought I’d ask if there was anything you wanted to try.”

You truly didn’t find your sex life with Jessie boring at all, she was excellent in bed, able to meet and exceed your needs and the two of you being athletes meant you had the stamina to last as long as you wanted. You collectively owned a strap-on and a vibrator but nothing else. It worked for the two of you, it was great sex. But even great sex sometimes could use something new, something for a little change of pace. You also knew Jessie well enough to know even if there was something she was interested in, she most likely would keep it to herself until you pried it out of her.

“I don’t know.” You can tell she’s withholding information, still too shy to put her ideas into words. But you decide not to push it, it was a little bit of a personal question to throw on her and expect an immediate answer.

“Alright babe, if you come up with anything, you can tell me. Want to get a shower?” She nods, finally making eye contact with you as you both get up from the bed and move to the bathroom. You let the question go unanswered for now, secretly hoping Jessie would come up with something to tell you in the next couple of days.

After a week passes since you had asked Jessie if she wanted to try anything out in bed and not getting any form of a hint or answer, you decide maybe a little field trip would help. Maybe Jessie just didn’t know what she wanted to try, maybe this would give her some suggestions.

“Where are we going?” Jessie asked for the fifth time since you told her to get dressed and ready to leave the house. She claimed she needed to know where you were going so she could dress appropriately.

“I’ve told you, it’s a surprise.” You turn back to look at your girlfriend as you grab your keys.

“You know I hate surprises.” She mumbles as she follows you down the hallway from your apartment out the door. Jessie wasn’t a big fan of surprises, she liked having all the information and surprises made her feel out of control.

“Jessie it’ll be fine, I promise. If you hate it for some reason we can leave. Do you trust me?”

“Yes, I trust you.” She gets into the passenger seat of your car and you start driving. You debated having her close her eyes but it didn’t feel necessary, you weren’t going too far. You drove for another 25 minutes before you pulled into the parking lot of a small shop.

“You brought me to an adult store?!” Her voice is a mix of confusion and also a little bit scared.

“Yes, I did but we don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. I just thought, maybe we could look around?” You don’t want her to feel forced, but you thought this would be a good way to maybe suggest new ideas for the two of you.

“What if someone sees us?” You’re convinced her voice is raised a few octaves.

“Jessie, we’re adults. We’re also publicly dating, people know we have sex.”

“Still.” She was bouncing her leg, head swiveling to look around the car to the empty parking lot, and she was nervously playing with her fingers. You start to think maybe you should’ve asked if she’d want to do this before you made it a surprise. Or maybe just going online shopping would’ve been a better choice for someone like Jessie.

“Babe,” you place a hand on her knee, trying to settle it, “we don’t have to go in. If you don’t want to, we won’t. We also can go in and then immediately leave, whatever you want.”

She doesn’t say much, just looking at the door of the shop. You can tell she’s having an argument within herself on what she wants to do. You let her ponder, she slowly stops fiddling with her fingers, wiping her hands, that were likely sweating slightly on her legs.

“Let’s go in.”

“Are you sure?” Now worried she feels forced by you and like she has to go into the store.

“Yeah.” Before she’s able to get out of the car you grab her hand.

“If you want to leave, just tell me, we’ll go.” She nods and you both get out of the car and walk into the store.

You’d been in a store like this once before, buying a joke gift for a bachelorette party, but never when looking for something you actually wanted. The toys you owned had been purchased online.

You didn’t know where to start so you decided to just take a lap around the whole store, then figuring out where you wanted to look. Jessie followed you around like a lost puppy, her eyes barely leaving the floor, glancing up only to look at you.

You move over to the wall of dildos, you liked the one you had for your strap currently, but a new one wouldn’t hurt. It’s a little overwhelming, every color and size imaginable on the wall, ones that vibrate, ones that spin, ones that have heating elements. That sounded like a fire hazard to you. Your eyes scan over all the options, a few catching your eye, you prefer the fun colors, you look at sizes comparable to the one you already owned. It worked for both of you, no reason to make too much of a change with a new one.

You turn to see Jessie, surprised to see she’s actually looking up at the wall instead of the floor. You watch as her eyes scan, before setting on a blue dildo that looks to be slightly larger than the one you already owned. Her eyes wander away and then come back to the blue one. You give her a second to make a decision or movement to grab the toy, she doesn’t.

“You like that one?” You point at it on the wall. Jessie doesn’t say anything, just turning to look at you and then back to the box and then to the floor.

“Jessie, if you want it we can get it.” You notice the slightest nod of her head, but she doesn’t make a move to grab it. You sigh, letting out a small laugh at your girlfriend’s shy behavior, given she was the opposite in the bedroom once you got her going. You take the box off the wall and throw it into the basket you had picked up.

Jessie walks away and out of the section you were in, not saying anything to you. Now it was you who was the one following her around the store. She moves over to a wall of assorted items. Small vibrators, bottles of lube, gags, paddles, all sorts of things. You watch her carefully as her eyes scan again. This time they don’t stop for too long on anything. You assume nothing has peaked her interest. She takes a few steps around the corner to another wall of items. You grab a bottle of lube off the shelf, identical to the one you already owned, you weren’t running out quite yet but there wasn’t really such a thing as too much lube.

You scan the wall yourself before following Jessie around the corner. You see her hand reach out slightly toward something before she withdraws when she notices you coming around the corner. Her hand drops but she’s still looking at it when you come over. It’s a blindfold and handcuff set.

“Really?” You look at her, shock probably across your face as your hand grabs the box. She nods again, still not using her voice. You throw it in the basket. The thought of your hands restrained to the headboard while Jessie had her way with you, or hers being restrained while you got to tease her had you clenching your thighs together, ready to leave the store and try it out.

You are now just following Jessie around the store, less looking for yourself and just watching her eyes carefully as she has yet to actually say any words about what she wants to you. As you walk by a section of harnesses you see ones with a pocket where you could put a vibrator. You try to think if the one you have at home has a pocket but you can’t remember.

“Babe,” you whisper yell across the store to where Jessie was wandering around. She quickly comes over to you. “Does our harness have this pocket? I can’t remember.”

She nods at you and gives a quiet “Yes.”

“Oh, should we get something for it? We don’t have anything small enough to go in there.” You grab for one of the smaller bullet vibrators and hold it up to Jessie, cocking your head to ask her if she wanted it. She just gives you a nod again.

Jessie returns back to where she was before, you follow her over. She’s looking at another wall of assorted items. Only instead of walking past this one her eyes are glancing and then looking away only to draw back to some boxes. When you realize what she's looking at, your jaw nearly falls open, but not wanting to make her question her interest you keep a straight face.

“That?” You point at the silver butt plug Jessie was looking at.

“Only if you’d want it?” You realize she means she wants to use it on you, if you’d let her. You’d never tried it, but figured no harm in trying things out.

“Sure, I’m open to trying whatever with you.” You grab the box, throwing it into your surprisingly full basket. You hadn’t realized how many things you had picked up on your lap around the store.

You’ve nearly made it through the whole store, taking a last stop to look at some of the lingerie. You flip through the options while Jessie is back to standing behind you as if she was hiding. You find a red lacy matching set and throw it into the basket, you look back to see Jessie’s eyes wide as she sees what you had picked out. You flash her a smirk, knowing she’s picturing you wearing the outfit.

“You all done?” You ask your girlfriend. She gives you a nod and reaches into her pocket grabbing out her wallet and handing you her card.

“I’ll get it.” You wave off her card but she sticks the card into your hand again. You roll your eyes, taking her card and turning to go check out, leaving Jessie wandering behind you, not wanting to interact with the employees.

You check out quickly and look back to get Jessie’s attention as you’re ready to leave. She follows you quickly out the door and rushes to the car. You place the bag in the trunk and get in the drivers seat.

“See I knew there was stuff you wanted to try but were too shy to say it.” You poke at her cheek. “You could’ve told me.” You tease her gently you knew she was shy, she always had been since you met her, she was shy with everyone.

She doesn’t say anything but you notice the blush on her cheeks reddening. You decide to leave her be, not wanting to tease her too much. At least not yet, maybe later in the bedroom.

You throw the car in drive and leave the shop, heading home. When you get home you throw the contents of the bag on the bed. “So where do you want to start?” You ask Jessie turning to see her looking at everything you had bought.

“Handcuffs maybe the new dildo too?” She says with a questioning look, one eyebrow raised at you, no longer shy like she was at the store.

You nod quickly at her.

“Get on the bed.” Her tone is demanding, she reaches to pick up the handcuffs and blindfold as she makes her way to the side of the bed. You lay down and Jessie straddles your waist, her weight holding you to the bed. She drops the handcuffs before grabbing your hands with hers interlocking your fingers and pinning your hands above your head with her strength.

She leans down as if she’s going to kiss you, before moving to the side to place her lips against your ear. “This is going to be fun.”

[kitnootkat]

Oh? Who's this? ... Hyacinth; Jealousy, sincerity, and forgiveness.

hq masterlist .....

INSPIRED BY OBSESSED BY OLIVIA RODRIGO CHARACTERS: Sakusa Kiyoomi, Tsukishima Kei, Akaashi Keiji

MSBY! Sakusa Kiyoomi.  Where were you? Sakusa has been looking around the stadium for quite awhile and for some reason you hadn’t been answering your phone. It wasn’t like you to do so, meaning all Sakusa could do was worry. Though it didn’t take him much longer to find you though, you were outside of the bathroom trying to reject a guy making his advances.

It wasn’t like Sakusa was insecure about your relationship or anything of the sort but for some odd reason, every time he sees someone try to hit on you he feels his chest start to burn. Whether it was with rage or jealousy, he didn’t know, but all he could comprehend was that he didn’t like it. Not at all. 

Walking over to you, he approached you both and snuck an arm around your waist and kissed you. It was a short kiss, but he made sure the guy knew who you were dating. After speaking to you for a moment simply asking if you had gotten lost or something since it was a newly built stadium, he then finally addressed the guy who was hitting on you. 

Smirking at the man's dumbfounded face, Sakusa spoke.

“Oh, who is this babe? A friend of yours?”

College! Tsukishima Kei It was almost a hundred degrees out right now and both you and Tsukishima had agreed to stop by the convenience store to grab ice cream. Usually you would be at Creamsicle, your college’s ice cream shop, but it was probably jam-packed with people and neither of you were in the mood to deal with pushy early adults. 

After grabbing your ice cream you decided to go outside seeing that people were starting to catch onto the idea of cheaper, faster ice cream. You informed Tsukishima of this and he nodded knowing it probably was a good idea to do so. 

Although he thought it was a smart idea, he quickly realized it wasn’t once he saw you conversing with a guy from the soccer team. Sure maybe you both haven’t blasted the fact you were dating out to everyone; but everyone did know that you two were a pair. One with tension that’s finally turned real. 

Walking up to you, Tsukishima ‘accidentally’ bumped into the soccer head. Instead of paying him any mind he went straight for taking a bite of your ice cream. After a moment passes, him kissing you, he turns to the guy you were talking to. 

“The line inside is getting long, you should go before you miss out.”

Akaashi Keiji Akaashi was never one to get jealous, but seeing you converse with your ex? Absolutely not. It didn’t matter if they were your ex from high school, the fact was that they were still your ex. 

You both were at a nice diner, celebrating his promotion at work and the publication of the manga him and his coworker have been working on for months. He felt the urge to use the bathroom while you both were waiting for your food so he informed you and stood up to leave. 

He passed by your ex on his way there thinking nothing of seeing the person but soon came to realize that maybe he should have thought about it a bit more. 

You and them had dated for around a year in high school seeing them as they dropped food of to your table was a pleasant surprise. The breakup was mutual, both of you wanting to pursue different passions, meaning seeing each other was fairly nice. Talking for a moment you have both ended up talking about your love lives, they mentioned that they were married to a lovely lady and would be expecting kids soon. You talked about being deeply in love with your current boyfriend who you were here with. 

But Akaashi didn’t hear that that was the topic of conversation so seeing you talk to casually to your ex had ignited an unpleasant feeling in him. Not usually one for PDA, your boyfriend walked over to your table and kissed you on the forehead before sitting down and sending an icy smile at your ex. 

“It’s nice to meet you, you’re my girlfriend's ex right? Ah! I’d love to talk more but it seems there’s a table waving you over” NOTES !! :

-> This is NOT beta read so there's probably a lot of grammar mistakes sorry !! -> I wanna make more like actual posts other than my smau's so i offer this up!! -> jealousy my favorite guilty pleasure trope <33

[weirdocat83]

Because I’m still fixated on return of Mount hua sect:

Fic Idea!

I’ve seen a lot of people do “Tang Bo reincarnates too” fanfics (which, I love y’all. Plz keep writing) but I haven’t seen one where he’s there from the beginning. Canon rewrite style.

Like, imagine Chung Myung reincarnates as per canon but a few minutes after realizing (and getting information) Tang Bo, freshly reincarnated and just as confused overhears Chung Myung getting information and they figure out that they reincarnated together! So they make their way to Mount hua and canon events occur but this time there’s someone helping Chung Myung in his shenanigans and that changes things just a little.

Chung Myung having someone on his level to rely on would be a HUGE boon to him while doing things (plus having someone to yell at him for doing stupid shit in secret [*cough* using his literal life force and almost dying *cough*].) Someone to join in his suffering not only when the past becomes a bit too much but also when he feels the unfairness of what happened to Mount Hua and himself. Someone who acknowledges with him all the people that died in the war that didn’t get remembered and how unfair it is that the current generation of Mount Hua is weak because there was nobody to teach them how to be strong or how to manage things. Someone to talk to when things get rough, you know?

But also just the hilarity of both of them being gremlins from the beginning. I mean, Chung Myung has said it himself, Tang Bo is a bit of a crazy bastard. Which is rich coming from him, but also that kinda shows how crazy Tang Bo is. It’d be interesting to see them causing trouble, especially if they’re clingy because ✨trauma✨. It’d be funny if anyone from/allied with mount hua just has the general knowledge that if you see one, the other isn’t far behind. Tang Bo will walk down the streets for shopping but Chung Myung is probably on the roofs of said stores watching. Or if Chung Myung is out in the forest training Tang Bo is either on standby to make sure he’s ok or training himself within earshot but not close enough to be seen. This may go on to the point that if they are forced to separate for some reason or another it feels really weird and unnatural for everyone involved, not just them.

Also the whole tang clan confrontation would be 1000x funnier. Because Tang Bo is no longer really related to them he gets a lot of questions about his name (unless he changes it for secrecy?). Tang Bo watching from the sidelines as his dagger techniques getting used by his family to fight mount hua. Tang Bo, horrified and laughing in the background as Chung Myung is proposed to by his descendant because that man is 82 even if he looks like a teenager. Also Tang Bo seeing what his family has become over time.

Idk I have thoughts because the funny poison man lives rent free in my brain.

[allur1ngs]

✮ bloody knuckles ✮

TW: angst to fluff!! i know the summary seems like pure angst but i swear its not! semi-graphic violence? , guns, kidnapping, bada and reader get into an argument, reader acts naively and a bit selfishly (but it’s okay, she’s young and makes up for it in the end), bada still having beef w your bodyguard, protective!bada, cold!bada (this time to you too…), violent & frusterated!bada, brief mentions of sexual activity (inc…toys, ass, boobs… sorry), use of the word unnie (about six or so times) brief mentions of drugs, a creepy woman, and a surprise character from the previous installment! 

SUMMARY: breaking bada’s three rules for a night of partying backfires in ways you could’ve never imagined. now, you have to deal with the consequences of your lies

part iv. succumb (to me)

WC: 12.5k… get some popcorn y’all this is a long one

A/N: read this and this for more background on this au. i’m sure there are a ton of mistakes sprinkled throughout this fic so please ignore them, this took me so long to write and i just want to put it out on time… i promise i’ll edit it once i get the chance😭

DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada or team bebe’s actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!

On an inconspicuous Thursday night, when a heat wave had just hit Seoul, you lounged in your lavish bed—free from sheets—scrolling through social media.

Pictures of cute animals and food fill your feed, making you smile down at your screen. You are about to like a particularly cute picture of a cat when a notification banner stops you midway. Your eyes flicker to the top of the screen, finding a message from your best friend, Jae Hwang.

Clicking on the notification, you're transferred into your messages app, and Jae’s text fills your screen. “Unnie, I haven’t seen you in so long!! Please come to the party I’m throwing tomorrow so we can catch up and have some fun~!"

Your lips fall open in mild surprise as you instinctively sit up. A party? You text Jae back quickly, asking the reason for the party and where it will be held.

“At my house, of course! We’re all gathering to celebrate your engagement!”

Your engagement… so your parents really hadn’t wasted any time spreading the good news. You’d barely been living with Bada for a month, and they’d already informed your friends. You shake your head and sigh rather loudly. Bada would greatly disapprove of your parents' loose lips. She preferred her privacy, not only for protection but also because she liked people staying out of her business. That much you could tell from the little time you’d had to get to know her.

Shifting your focus back to Jae’s unanswered text, you contemplate attending the party or skipping out. Though they were technically throwing it in your honor, they should have let you know beforehand instead of asking you the night before the party. You felt well within your rights to refuse, but a nagging thought holds you back.

What would you do instead? Technically, you had no plans on Friday night—or Friday at all for that matter. Saturday neither… nor Sunday. Really, you never had plans anymore. Since staying with Bada, you mostly remained inside the Lee mansion, either lounging by the large infinity pool, taking a dip in your personal Jacuzzi, or perhaps enjoying a film in the theater room on the second floor.

Or, if you wanted to leave home, you would be escorted by your bodyguard to certain malls, grocery stores, or establishments. All of which were either managed by Bada or by one of her partners. She made it clear to you from the start that going places not protected by one of her subordinates would be dangerous.

"I have connections to half the establishments in Seoul," she had muttered to you. It's incredible that despite the implications of the words falling from her mouth, Bada had a way of saying things so humbly. She didn't sound like she was boasting—though you wouldn't fault her if she was. "I bet some of the markets you entered when you were a child were run by my family, and you'd never have known."

You’d try your best to conceal your amazement at her confession, but the glow in your eyes was as clear as day to Bada. “And what about the rest?”

She let out a quiet breath, saying, "The rest are mostly run by rival gangs. Almost no stores or establishments are free of mafia influence. Not anymore, at least." Seeing the way your eyes shifted from bright to slightly apprehensive, she pushed her chair back and rose, walking around her desk before leaning on it and clutching onto its edges. "There's no need to worry about them. As long as you stay in areas where my people are, you are safe." Her hand came down to rest politely on your thigh, patting it in a comforting manner.

Her words made your stomach flutter with butterflies, and a giddy smile instinctively formed on your lips. For someone who claimed to want to avoid fostering romantic affection between you both, Bada seemed to be doing the exact opposite.

Before you could lose yourself in the tenderness of the memory, you climb out of bed, having made your decision. Because you barely left home as it is, what harm is there in going to a party? A party organized in your honor, no less. It’s a rare occasion, and truthfully, you miss Jae and the rest of your girlfriends. You haven’t seen them in over a month and texted them sparingly during that time. To be fair, it was mostly your fault—you were much too focused on getting to know Bada and adjusting to your new way of life to strike up conversations with them.

You nod your head firmly as if the action will help build your confidence before you grab onto the handle of your bedroom door and slowly open it. Standing to your right, the figure of your bodyguard, Hyo Kim, immediately greets you on the other side. She turns to face you, her black-tinted sunglasses obstructing your view of her eagle eyes.

“What are you doing up so late?” She says lightheartedly.

“Do you know if Bada is still awake?” You ask. “I wanted to ask her something.”

Hyo lifts her arm up, pushing aside the fabric of her suit to reveal a golden watch. She gazes down at it, pretending to think long and hard. “The Boss should be awake for about…” she trails off playfully, “another four hours.”

You chuckle under your breath, “I didn’t even need to ask, did I?”

“Not at all.” Hyo shakes her head while smirking.

“Alright then,” you clasp your hands together tightly, “I’m going to go see Bada.”

Hyo gestures ahead of you with her hand. “I’ll follow your lead.”

You nod quickly before advancing forward, her trailing close behind. You can’t lie; it was strange to have someone following after you almost every second of the day in the beginning. You remember that at the beginning of your stay at Lee mansion, you kept forgetting that Hyo was following you—she has the tendency to be extremely quiet when focused—and were jump-scared by her multiple times. You’d round corners and suddenly hear one of her heavier footsteps behind you, making you jump and your heart practically leap out of your chest.

At some point, you swear she started doing it on purpose, enjoying the look of fear you gave her when you jumped. Eventually, though, you started to grow used to her constantly lingering presence and even grew comfortable around her. Somewhere along the way, you’d both gotten to know each other more, and a slow but harmonious friendship grew.

“So, what are you going to ask the Boss about?” Hyo’s low and blithe voice cuts through the silence.

“Oh,” you begin, “my friend asked me to meet her and some of my other friends tomorrow night.”

“Really?” Hyo comments, her voice dripping with an emotion you can’t quite decipher.

“Yes,” you affirm. “I wanted to ask Bada if it’s okay for me to visit her.”

Hyo hums under her breath in acknowledgment. “She’ll appreciate that.”

“I hope so.” You smile lightly to yourself. “I just thought that since you follow me wherever I go, she’d find out either way, and I might as well get her thoughts on it.”

“Not to crush your hopes and dreams, kid, but I doubt she’ll say yes.” Hyo remarks.

“Really?” You pause and turn around to face her, a frown forming on your lips.

“The Boss values your safety more than anything else,” Hyo shrugs. “Meeting people she isn’t familiar with puts you at risk.”

“But they’re my friends.” You push back lightly.

“I get that, but like I said, the Boss only cares about keeping you safe.” Hyo raises her hands up in defeat.

You deflate at her words, acknowledging that she’s most likely right. After all the events that’d taken place in the span of a single month, you honestly wouldn’t hold it against Bada to be cautious of where you go. But at the same time, you can’t help but feel mild resentment at the fact that you aren’t even allowed to see your friends.

“Hey,” Hyo frowns at you like a scolding sister. “Don’t be discouraged. You haven’t even asked her yet. You never know; she just might say yes.”

You pick your head up at her words, slowly but surely nodding back. “Yeah, you’re right.” And with that, you continue walking down the corridor to Bada’s office until you reach the dark mahogany wood of her door. Lightly rapping on it, there’s a period of silence before you hear the low tenor of her voice speak up.

“Lusher, if you’re coming to ask me if I’ve finished the paperwork for POSCO’s deal, for the millionth time the answer is no, I haven’t.” Bada’s disgruntled voice makes you laugh to yourself, and you immediately bring your hand up to cover your mouth as you grin widely.

“Is now a bad time to see you, then?” You answer back cheekily.

You receive no response for a solid minute before the sound of papers rustling loudly and approaching footsteps reaches your ears. The door to Bada’s office opens, and there she stands in all her glory, looking rather flustered. “Sorry. I thought you were Lusher.”

You smile at Bada while shaking your head. “It’s alright. Can I come in?”

“Of course.” She steps aside, making room for you to walk into her office while she holds the door open for you. You say a quick thank you as pass through the threshold, missing how Bada lets the door swing closed behind her and shuts out Hyo. “So, is there a reason why you’re visiting me? It’s very late into the night; I expected you to be asleep already.”

“Well, I was about to go to sleep, but I got a text from Jae—” you pause upon seeing her frown. “my best friend.”

Bada nods in acknowledgment, moving toward a chair and pushing it back, gesturing for you to sit down. You do so, trying to ignore the nervous tension building in the pit of your stomach.

“Yeah, she invited—” you pause, choosing your next words carefully. Phrasing Jae’s invitation as a party would most likely mean Bada wouldn't let you go. So, if you just tweaked your wording a bit to make the party seem less extreme… it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, right? “she invited me to a get-together between friends.”

“A get-together?” Bada questions, folding her hands across her lap as she leans on the edge of her office table. “For what purpose?”

“Just to catch up and… celebrate our engagement.” You gesture between you both, immediately noticing how Bada’s expression shifts, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“They know of our engagement?” She asks.

“Yes,” you sigh. “I guess my parents couldn’t keep their excitement in check.”

“Your parents.” Bada shakes her head, pinching her nose-bridge tiredly. “I’ll have to have a word with them about that.”

“Please do.” You nod rapidly. “But aside from that, what I wanted to ask you was if I could be escorted to the get-together tomorrow night?”

Bada moves her gaze from the floor to your eyes, removes her hand from her face, and gives you a hesitant expression. “I don’t know… after all the incidents recently…” she trails off, a faraway look finding her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want you to feel like you’re a prisoner in your own home, or that you can’t see your friends, I just want you to be safe.”

“I get that, I really do, Bada, but this is just a small get-together.” You lie between your teeth.

Bada stays quiet, looking to be considering your words. “And you trust your friends, right?”

“I do.”

Bada lets out a light breath, while a small smile finds her lips. “All right then, you can go.”

“Really?” You give her a shocked look before you snap out of it and practically squeal, jumping up from your chair and instinctively wrapping your arms around Bada’s shoulders in a hug. “Thank you so much!”

Bada freezes in her spot, surprised by your affection. Slowly, a warm, sappy feeling builds at the bottom of her stomach, and her hands, which had been propped up in the air stiffly, gently come down to rest against your back, patting it tenderly. “You’re welcome.” She tries not to think about how lovely you feel against her or the allure of your natural scent.

You spend all Friday preparing for the party, choosing your makeup beforehand, your jewelry, shoes, and of course, your dress—a beautiful wine-red ensemble that you’d picked up on your shopping trip with Bada. She’d chosen it for you—claiming, “This dress would look beautiful on you.” The meaning behind her words, that it wasn’t the dress that was beautiful, but instead your figure that would make it look divine, had struck you in that moment.

If Bada wanted you to wear the dress, you’d buy it in a heartbeat.

For the little hours left you have in the day, you try not to get too giddy thinking of the party or how magnificent you’ll look in the dress, instead trying to busy yourself by catching up on one of your favorite TV shows. But when the milky raven sky begins to take over the horizon, you jump off of the couch, rushing to your room, leaving Hyo to scramble after you.

In your bedroom, you sit down at your antique-styled vanity, your makeup laid out in front of you. You begin prepping your skin before beginning your usual routine. It takes you a slightly longer time for you to finish because you’re being incredibly meticulous, but by the end of it, you look amazing. Before you can get distracted, you quickly dress yourself.

As your fingers curl around the clasp of your teardrop diamond earrings and secure them in place, you take a step back to gaze at yourself in your floor-length mirror.

The win-red dress hugs your body, accentuating every favorable feature of it. A similar dark rouge to your dress is blended across your eyelids in a smoky eye, making the color of your eyes pop in contrast. Your lips, fixed into a slight pout, are glossy and soft, tinted with a color of your choice. Taking your look all together, all you can say is that Bada was right—the dress does look beautiful on you.

A knock on your bedroom door startles you, your hand instinctively flying to your chest. "Hello?" You respond, a bit on edge.

"It's me. Can I come in?" Bada's voice, muffled behind the door, reaches you.

"Yes," you reply, hastily adjusting your dress and double-checking your appearance.

Bada enters just as your hands fall to your sides, her gaze immediately scanning your figure. She appraises you, from collarbones to legs, before fixing her eyes on your chest for a lingering moment.

Suppressing a nervous giggle, you greet her, "Hi, Bada."

Her eyes quickly snap up to meet yours, a sheepish cough escaping her mouth. "Hello."

Standing awkwardly by the door, Bada stares at you for a solid minute before you give a lighthearted smile. "Is there something you needed?"

"Uhh, no. Well, actually..." Bada stumbles over her words, closing her eyes in embarrassment. "Sorry, yes. I wanted to see you before you left."

You release a small breath of understanding before a cheeky thought crosses your mind. Walking closer to Bada, you do a little twirl when you reach her. "So, what do you think?"

Bada exhales while chuckling, her nervousness leaving her. "I think you are the most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes upon."

Out of shock, you remain still, surprised by how unabashedly Bada expressed her thoughts. You expected a simple compliment, but she exceeded your expectations. "Really?" You ask quietly, sensing a shift in the room's atmosphere. An air of intimacy and something more sensual makes your skin prickle and breath hitch.

"Of course. There's no one I could think of that could make that dress look so stunning." Bada looks back at you with a serious and genuine expression.

"Bada..." you trail off, immediately thinking of countless other women who could wear the dress better. Supermodels, actresses—

"I think there's just one simple thing that would finish off the look." Bada's voice brings you back, and you give her a questioning stare. She smiles, her hand digging into her pocket before presenting you a sleek black box. Your confusion deepens as she opens it, revealing the most elegant necklace you've ever seen. Matching teardrop diamonds, akin to those on your earrings circle the chain, glittering against the low bedroom light. At the center, a silver locket shaped like a dainty heart ties it all together.

You stare at the necklace in awe, alternating between Bada's eyes and the exquisite piece of jewelry. "Bada, it's beautiful."

She watches you marvel at it, sparkles dancing in your eyes. Giving you a fond look, she nudges the box closer. "Take it."

Hesitating for a brief second, you gently retrieve the necklace. "Wow," you breathe out, fully admiring its beauty now that it’s free from the box.

"You should put it on," Bada encourages you softly.

“Oh, I shouldn’t—” you protest.

“I insist,” she cuts you off, tucking the box back into her pocket. She steps forward, taking the necklace from your hands and moving behind you. “Here, let me.” She places it across your collarbones and brings the clasp together, her long fingers brushing across your skin. 

Her touch ignites a spark, but as quickly as it appeared, her fingers are gone. She steps back, placing her hands on your waist to move you back so that you’re facing your mirror again. But this time, Bada's at your side, admiring how exquisite you look.

 “Absolutely perfect,” she whispers into your ear.

The warmth from her touch lingers as you stare at Bada through the mirror. “Thank you.” You bask in the comfortable silence in the room for a moment before speaking up again. “Can I ask, did you buy this?”

Bada places her hands atop your shoulders, a soft, wistful look finding her irises. “It was my mother’s.”

Immediately, you whip around to face her, your mouth wide open in mortification, and your eyes the size of saucers. “Bada, why didn’t you tell me?” Your hands frantically try to find the clasp of the necklace, wanting to take it off. “Here—”

“No.” Bada’s hands find yours, holding them and stopping you from removing the jewelry. “Don’t take it off.”

“But Bada, this was your mom’s—”

“And I want you to have it,” Bada states firmly.

“I can’t—”

“Are you rejecting my gift?” Although her words sound accusatory, when you look into her eyes, there’s a glint of amusement in them.

You let out a huff of defeat. “Fine.”

Bada smirks proudly, removing her hands from yours. “Good.”

After bidding farewell to Bada, Hyo swiftly whisks you away to a black Jeep, one that, according to her, is "much more secure than a sports car." Seated in the front, she drives and engages in casual conversation while you relax in the back. You take the opportunity to share stories about each of your best friends—Jae, the liveliest, Da-Eun, the second oldest, Min-Ji, the oldest, and Ryung, the youngest and most timid. Hyo listens attentively, interjecting with comments or laughter at your anecdotes.

“You all seem to be very close,” she remarks, steering the wheel to the left.

“Yeah, we are. We’ve known each other since childhood, and our parents are all friends,” you reply.

“Those types of friends… you should hold onto them,” Hyo advises. “In this line of business, it’s hard to find someone you can trust as much as you four trust each other.”

You gaze at your bodygaurd through the rear-view mirror, sensing the weight behind her words. "Hyo?" You inquire.

"Yeah?"

"Does Bada find it hard to trust other people?"

Her lips tighten, an audible exhale leaving her nose. "She hasn't fully placed her trust in anyone since the day Mrs. Lee died."

A somber atmosphere envelops the car, akin to a bucket of ice-cold water. You shift in your seat uncomfortably, your heart aching at the thought of the pain Bada must have endured when her mother was killed. "Bada was still young when she passed, wasn’t she?"

"Fifteen," Hyo nods. "Barely beginning her climb towards adulthood."

A stark silence follows after, and the rest of the car ride is silent, filled only with the quiet hum of the Jeep’s engine and the sounds of passersby. It's not uncomfortable, but rather solemn, as if you and Hyo are silently mourning Mrs. Lee's memory.

Fifteen minutes later, Hyo's driving slows as she turns into a large house—though noticeably smaller than your shared one with Bada, of course. The GPS on the tablet beeps, signaling your arrival at the destination. "We’re here," her voice rings through the background noise.

You turn away from the window you’d been gazing out of, a smile forming on your lips at the sight of Jae’s house. Out of your group, Jae always had the most luxurious home, because though all of you came from affluent families, Jae's parents were the wealthiest. Well, it seemed like now the dynamic had changed. Once you and Bada are officially wed, your combined wealth will likely rival all of theirs combined.

"How long do you think you’ll be staying?" Hyo asks.

"I'd like to say it won't take that long, but knowing my friends, I might be here all night," you admit.

"Alright." Hyo parks the Jeep in the driveway, exits, then moves to open your door. You offer a quiet thank you as she helps you step out, mindful of the relatively short length of your dress.

Leading the way to Jae's house, you pause before knocking. Judging by the time, it seems you arrived slightly early, which in party terms means very early. Fortunately, that likely means no other partygoers are here yet, as evidenced by the absence of parked cars in the driveway.

"Actually, Hyo?" you turn back to face her, a sheepish look on your face. "Could you maybe… wait outside?"

Your bodyguard raises her eyebrows, crossing her arms across her chest. "I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on you."

"I know that, but I think the girls will be thrown off by the fact that you’ll just be standing there… watching us the entire night." Though your reasoning is somewhat woven with lies, it's also partly true.

Hyo remains silent, giving you an unimpressed look. "I have a job to do."

"Technically, you can do it from out here," you weakly argue. "Please, I want to feel like a normal person again. Like my life isn’t constantly at risk, and I always need to be monitored."

Although you can’t see the look Hyo’s giving you behind her sunglasses, you notice her posture deflating, and her shoulders falling. She releases a defeatist breath, "Fine, I’ll keep an eye out from here."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You express with a grateful smile.

"Yeah, yeah, never say I haven’t done anything for you," Hyo grumbles. "Oh, and don’t forget I have your location on my phone, so don’t even think about sneaking out because I’ll know."

"I wouldn’t dare," you joke.

"Right…" your bodyguard trails off. "I’ll be waiting in the car. If you need anything, just call or text me, and I’ll be out in an instant."

"Yup, thanks!" You give Hyo a thumbs up, and with that, she retreats back to the Jeep. You watch her go, a sudden wave of guilt crashing over you.

She'd probably be much more comfortable in Jae’s house, sitting down or enjoying the air conditioning, rather than waiting for countless hours in the Jeep while you gossip and talk to your friends. But you're in too deep now. You can’t tell her the truth or let her in, or she’ll whisk you away back to the mansion, and all your white lies will have been for naught.

Biting your lip, you cast one last look at Hyo before knocking on the front door. Silence greets you for a few minutes before you hear shuffling approach the door, and it opens. Jae’s face greets you on the other side, her eyes immediately sparkling at the sight of you.

"Oh my god!" She squeals, bringing you into a hug and squeezing you tight. "I’m so glad you’re here!" She rocks back and forth in the hug, making you laugh giddily. "I missed you so much!" When she pulls back, she’s wearing a pout across her red-tinted lips. "Don’t ghost me for a month again, okay? Or I’ll steal you away from your wife!"

"I missed you too," you say fondly. "But we’re not married yet—"

"Oh, come on, you’re engaged to Bada Lee! You’re married in every sense except legally." Jae rolls her eyes playfully, though they stray a bit before landing on something—or rather, someone—behind you. "Who’s that?" She points at the Jeep, where Hyo is sitting in the front seat, trying not to look like she's watching you.

"That’s Hyo Kim, my bodyguard."

"Your bodyguard?" Jae awes before pouting. "Why am I even surprised? Of course, Bada Lee would have her fiancée under lock and key." Jae grabs your hand, giving it a light squeeze before her expression shifts, a sly smile curving her lips. "So tell me, have you two done it yet? Is she dominant? Is she more of a boobs girl or an ass girl—"

"Jae!" You shout, eyes wide and voice full of mortification. "Are you serious right now?"

"Come on, tell me! I want to know all the stuff you haven’t told me over the past month. You owe it to me!" She whines.

You let out a long sigh. You suppose this is your karma for unintentionally ignoring your best friend for so long. "At least invite me in first, Jae. Don’t you have any manners?" You lightly scold her.

"Oh, right." She looks behind her, realizing that while she’s inside her home, you’re still outside the threshold, waiting for her to invite you in. She looks like she’s about to take a step back so you can enter before she pauses, a thoughtful expression crossing her features. "Wait, does she use toys—"

"Alright, that’s enough!" You push Jae further into her house and step inside, swinging the door shut rather loudly behind you.

Once inside, you scold her for a solid five minutes straight about manners before the two of you properly greet each other and begin a normal, casual conversation—thankfully with no mention of your and Bada’s sexual activity, or lack thereof. Instead, you're practically interrogated by Jae about every aspect of your life with Bada while you help her finish setting up for the party.

You stack up red solo cups, place beers into multiple coolers, and set out chasers. Thankfully, it doesn’t take much for the two of you to finish, and once you do, you simply lounge around a bit. Jae takes the break as an opportunity to compliment how amazing you look in your dress.

"Is that Chanel?" She asks, motioning for you to do a spin.

"Yes." You nod, doing as she wishes. "Bada picked it out for me."

"I bet she’s regretting her decision right now." Your friend giggles. "No one’s going to be able to resist you tonight!"

"Jae, stop exaggerating." You laugh.

Your lighthearted conversation continues until slowly but surely, party guests begin to arrive. They come in small waves, all dressed much more elegantly than the average partygoer. You assume they must be some of Jae’s rich friends that you’ve heard about only in passing because you don’t recognize some of them. The thought sends a small prickle of worry to the back of your mind, but you choose to ignore it for now. Instead, you greet each guest kindly, albeit rather awkwardly.

As the dark sky deepens in color, the living room starts to get more and more crowded, the rest of your friends arriving along with other guests. Min-Ji gets there first, wearing a classy black cocktail dress. She greets you with the same enthusiasm as Jae, but her demeanor is slightly more controlled, her older age shining through.

Next, Da-Eun arrives, dressed in green, and lastly, Ryung. By the time she settles in, the party is in full swing, music leaking out of speakers, and beers being passed around. You’re fully immersed in the atmosphere, happy to be surrounded by your girls and other somewhat familiar faces. You can’t lie, partying with your friends really puts into perspective the loneliness you hid behind your home’s mansion walls.

But in contrast to your free spirit, Hyo is struggling. Multiple cars have begun to pull into the driveway, groups of people entering the house and giving her a peek inside. The home has many more people than it should for a "small gathering." 

Her first instinct was to exit the Jeep and head toward the door to end your night prematurely, as well as tell you off for not only lying to her but also to Bada. However, through one of the windows, your silhouette peaks through, the light in the living room shining against your features and displaying your expression of pure joy as you dance with your friends and sip beer.

She stops mid-stride, conflict brewing in the confines of her mind. Deep down, she knows you deserve to enjoy yourself. Being stuck in a mansion—while large and full of entertainment—is nothing compared to the comfort of being with friends, partying, and drinking. “Fuck.” Hyo mutters under her breath, passing a hand through her hair in frustration. She takes another look at your smiling figure through the window, then turns back. “The Boss is going to kill me if she finds out about this.”

She stays back in the Jeep for another hour or so, listening to the music coming from inside the house and the loud chatter, keeping an eye out while checking her phone every other minute. Your location never moves, thankfully. It seems that you have the foresight not to take it as far as sneaking away from her for some fun.

But, of course, there’s no need for you to do so because the party is practically buzzing with energy. Couples and friends dance together, grinding and touching each other playfully, while some are playing cup pong or various other party games in corners of the room. You, on the other hand, have moved away from dancing, instead cooling off with another beer as your friends chatter amongst each other.

“You’ll never guess what happens next!” Jae grabs onto Min-Ji, tugging on her hands with poorly concealed excitement.

“What?” Min-Ji indulges her younger friend.

“Bada stops him right before he leaves the store just by saying, ‘And where do you think you're going?’” Jae lowers her voice and puts on a serious expression when imitating your fiancée.

“Really?” Min-Ji's eyes find your figure, a small smile curving her lips upward.

You smile back at her shyly, nodding.

“And then, she makes the asshole pick up her clothes from the ground!” Jae divulges.

“Does he do it?” Da-Eun cuts in, smirking widely.

“Of course he does! Like a little worm, he picks up all the clothes and gives them to her.” Jae points at you, letting go of Min-Ji’s hands.

“Bada must have a very strong presence,” Ryung comments quietly.

“More like everyone in the store was on Bada’s payroll,” Jae snorts. “Right Unnie, didn’t you say Bada has ties to half the population of Seoul?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “I think everyone in that store had guns on them.”

“How do you know?” Min-Ji asks.

“Well, they were all putting their hands in their pockets like they were going to pull out a firearm,” you reminisce. “And they were all staring between the man and Bada like they were waiting for her word to dispose of him.”

“It’s so crazy hearing about it.” Jae whines. “I wish I was there!”

“Don’t say that.” Min-Ji scolds her. “It must have been scary at the time, wasn’t it?” She looks back at you, posing the question.

“I wasn’t really scared for myself.” You shake your head. “I was more scared for the man. You should have seen the way Bada was looking at him.”

“I can imagine it now.” Jae tries to imitate a hardened and scary glare but ends up failing.

“You just look like you’re constipated.” Da-Eun laughs loudly, pointing at a now offended Jae. The younger girl hits Da-Eun, whining about how she was really trying to look serious.

You join in laughing with Da-Eun and Min-Ji at Jae, when you suddenly feel a tug on your right hand. Your laughter dies down as you turn to face Ryung, who’s looking between you and another corner of the room. You give her a confused look, trying to find what she’s gazing at. “Ryung? Is something wrong?”

“A woman's been staring at you since she got here.” Ryung whispers, casting her eyes to the other corner of the room.

You follow her line of sight to an unfamiliar, relatively attractive woman dressed in a loose white dress shirt and slacks. She has fiery red hair and a boyish look. She’s already watching you, her eyes unabashedly trailing up and down your figure, completely unbothered by the fact that you caught her staring. In fact, she smirks back at you.

You turn away from her quickly, a prickle of anxiety running up your spine. Though most would be excited at being ogled by an attractive woman, there’s something about her gaze that unnerves you. It's like she knows something you don’t.

“Do you know her?” Ryung asks, a worried look crossing her features.

“No.” You shake your head, a trembling breath leaving your lips. “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

Da-Eun, Min-Ji, and Jae stop laughing at the sound of your nervous voice, turning to face you with questioning looks.

“What’s going on?” Min-Ji asks, noticing your rigid posture and Ryung’s grim expression.

Jae mutters your name, her voice becoming uncharacteristically quiet.

“There’s this woman that’s been staring at Unnie the entire night.” Ryung secretly motions towards you, then looks back at the woman with red hair. All of your friends' eyes follow, seeing how the woman gazes at you darkly; even with all their eyes on her, she doesn’t cower. Instead, she continues to watch you.

“Alright.” Da-Eun rubs her hands together, her expression dripping with anger. “Let me go have a word with her—”

“Not so fast.” Min-Ji grabs onto Da-Eun’s arm, pulling her back and keeping her from advancing toward the woman. “Jae, do you know her?”

Jae bites her lip, shaking her head. “I don’t remember inviting anyone that looks like that.”

“Then let me—” Da-Eun tries to wiggle out of Min-Ji’s hold but is unsuccessful.

“Don’t be so rash.” Min-Ji asserts. “Let’s just ignore her. If she decides to bother you directly, we’ll be here, okay?” She looks back at you with a caring expression, placing her hand on your shoulder.

“Okay.” You agree shakily, turning your back toward the woman’s direction.

For the rest of the night, you constantly feel her eyes on you. Though you try to act normal, a spike of fear runs up your body when you see someone approach you or accidentally brush up against you while you dance with your friends. You consider asking Hyo to come get you, but you don’t want to sour the mood of your friends. So you deal with her predatory gaze, and do your best to ignore her overwhelming presence.

Hyo’s eyes scan the neighborhood leisurely when a notification banner pops up at the top of her screen. Her eyes snap toward it, finding a text message from none other than her boss light up the screen. She takes in a deep breath as she presses it, her screen being moved to the message app.

Bada’s text reads, “How’s it going?”

Hyo lets out a sigh of relief, quickly texting back, “Good, she’s having fun.” She watches Bada’s text bubble show up soon after indicating she was writing, but it disappears a few seconds later. Hyo takes the opportunity to add, “Her friends are very lively.”

Bada’s text bubble appears again, but this time she sends a message saying, “Focus on doing your job.” Hyo huffs under her breath, exiting out of the messaging app and switching back to managing your location.

Her brief distraction keeps her from noticing a new group of men heading toward the house. Most slip in, it’s only until the last is about to cross inside that Hyo looks up, her eyes catching a baggy of white powder one of the men is carrying.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” She hisses. Immediately she exits the car, dialing Bada’s personal phone as she races up the driveway and slips into the house behind the man.

Inside, you’re slowly becoming more and more unnerved by the red-haired woman. Your friends try to take you around the living room, using the other partygoer’s bodies as a shield between you two, but she doesn’t allow them to. She moves through the crowd until she has a clear view of you again, then just stands there, her gaze unwavering.

“She really doesn’t give up, huh?” Min-Ji curses under her breath.

“What a creep,” Da-Eun adds.

“Are you okay?” Ryung asks you.

“I don’t know.” You admit, rubbing your arm uncomfortably.

“Hold on,” Jae cuts in. “I think she’s coming this way.”

Four pairs of eyes snap in the direction Jae is looking, finding the woman weaving through the crowd of partygoers in an attempt to reach you.

This time your entire body goes rigid, intense fear running through your veins as your friends rally around you, muttering comforting words. Their voices and the loud bass of the music in the background fade away, all you’re able to focus on is the woman with red hair only a few feet away from you now.

She’s just about to reach you when a firm grip grabs onto your arm, pulling you away from your friends. You jump at the person’s touch, instinctively trying to recoil away before you turn to see a familiar face.

“Hyo.” You breathe out in relief. 

“We’re leaving right now.” She says firmly, pulling you through the crowd of people. 

“Hey!” Da-Eun surges forward at the sight of Hyo taking you away. “Who are you–?”

“No, it’s okay, that’s her bodyguard,” Jae informs your friends.

Your friends share resounding noises of astoundment before Hyo starts to firmly push you toward the exit. You say a hurried goodbye to them, catching out of the corner of your eye the red-haired woman. She’s now wearing a frown as she quickly retreats into the crowd of dancing bodies, hiding away from your gaze, as well as Hyo’s.

The entirety of the drive back home is dead silent, but this time it’s not comfortable. Hyo’s lips are set into thin and firm lines, her expression unchanging as she switches lanes and drives through the jet-black night. You try to will your voice to work and make idle conversation, but the words get stuck in your throat, a deep feeling of regret pooling at the depths of your stomach.

The car ride back unfortunately felt much shorter than the ride to Jae’s house had. One minute you're just barely pulling out of her driveway, and the next you're passing the gates into your mansion's driveway.

Hyo parks the car, exiting quickly and opening the door for you like she always does. You still say thank you, but this time she doesn’t acknowledge it, she simply lets you take the lead as you begin the walk of shame into your home.

Walking through the front door, the first floor is eerily quiet, missing the sounds of Bebe walking around or talking amongst themselves. You hesitate before walking up the right spiral staircase to the second floor, then move to your right toward the direction of your bedroom.

“We’re going this way.” Hyo breaks her silence, motioning with her thumb behind her, toward the corridor that leads to Bada’s office. You gulp but say nothing in response, instead choosing to listen to her and head toward your fiancée. 

The sound of both your and Hyo’s footsteps echoing against the cold marble floor causes even more unease in your mind, the feeling all but tripling when you see a dark mahogany door come into view. You stop right in front of it, your legs starting to feel weak and your hands sweating. You try to build up your courage to knock on the door, but Hyo’s already a step ahead of you.

She doesn’t bother to knock, she simply grabs ahold of the door handle and pushes it open. She gestures for you to head inside which you do timidly, the door closing right behind you.

Inside the office, your eyes immediately find Bada’s figure. She’s sitting in her chair like she always is, looking incredibly tired. And instead of wearing a soft expression at the sight of you, her face is blank, not a single wisp of emotion to be seen. 

“Sit down.” Her voice cuts through the tension in the air.

You do as she says, noting that she doesn’t get up to pull your chair back for you like she normally does. “Bada,” you begin, voice quiet and full of remorse.

“I heard you had fun tonight.” She cuts you off, her tone harsh. “A party, was it?”

You close your eyes in embarrassment. “I’m sorry–”

“Are you?” She interrupts you again. “Truthfully, are you?”

“Yes.” You say frantically, trying to convince her. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”

“You had multiple opportunities to tell me the truth.” Bada asserts, her hands coming in front of her to clasp together tightly. “The night before when I asked you about your so-called ‘get-together.’" She lists, "You could have told me anytime today, or Hyo when she was driving you. Instead, you unabashedly lied to my face and deceived me.”

You swear the wind is knocked out of your chest at her words. Her dark brown, almost grey eyes are cutting into yours, wounding your heart as you will something, anything out of your mute vocal cords. “Please believe me.”

“I can’t.” Bada shakes her head. “All I asked of you was three things.” Much like she had when you first arrived at the Lee mansion, she holds up three corresponding fingers. “Tell me the truth, remain loyal, and never put yourself in unnecessary danger.” She places all three fingers down. “Somehow you managed to disobey all of them in the span of a single night.”

Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, and heaving breaths start to build in your windpipe. You can deal with Bada being upset with you, but there’s something about her calm disappointment that hurts you more than you could have ever imagined.

“What would have happened if someone at that party brought a gun, hm? What if they knew who you are to me? What if they wanted to hurt me by hurting you?” Her voice slowly rises in volume but never reaches a full yell. “More than anything, you put yourself in danger. All for the sake of a good time.”

You hang your head in shame, acknowledging that she’s right.

“I can’t trust you anymore.” She states plainly.

Your head snaps up from its hunched position, your eyes widening at the implication of her words. “What? Bada, what does that mean?”

Your fiancée remains quiet for a moment, her blank look doing nothing to soothe your heightening fear. Then, she speaks up. “It’s late, you should go to sleep.”

“Go to sleep?” You cry. “Bada–”

“I’m sorry, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” She tears her eyes away from yours, staring to her right. “I can’t look at you right now.”

Her words are the final blow to your breaking heart. You stand up from your chair loudly, attempting to hide your devastated expression as tears fall from your eyes in steady streams. You race over to the door, pull it open, and run out of the office, accidentally bumping into Hyo on your way out. You don’t say anything to her, simply wanting to get as far away as possible.

Lusher, who’d been rounding the corner about to head into Bada’s office catches sight of your teary eyes and sighs. She makes eye contact with Hyo, sharing a knowing look with her before entering the office.

“I’m not in the mood, Lusher,” Bada mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“Don’t you think you were a little too hard on her?” Lusher contends.

“She put her life at risk,” Bada states firmly.

“She went to a party, so what? She’s at the age where she’s supposed to be having fun with her friends, clubbing and drinking.”

“She lied to me,” Bada argues.

“Listen, I know that–” before Lusher can finish her sentence, the door to Bada’s office opens again, this time much more violently. Hyo stands in the doorway, a worried look encompassing her features.

“What now?” Bada snaps at her.

“Boss,” Hyo huffs. “the keys to the Jeep are gone.”

“What?” Bada stands up with urgency, her blank expression morphing into nothing but unrivaled anger. “Where did you put them?”

“I had them in my pocket–” Hyo freezes, a look of realization glinting in her eyes before she stops and runs a hand down her face in frustration. “Your fiancée pickpocketed me.”

“She pickpocketed you?” Lusher says incredulously. “So she just left? But it’s dangerous to be out this late, and in that dress–”

“Lusher, gather all of Bebe.” Bada interrupts her, voice loud and commanding. “You,” she points at Hyo. “find her. Now.”

“Yes, boss.” Lusher and Hyo say in unison, scrambling to do what their superior asked of them. 

Meanwhile, Bada remains standing behind her desk, a mix of fear and unadulterated anger building in her. She feels immediate regret for the way she’d treated and spoken to you. She never should have let you leave in such a vulnerable, and most likely intoxicated state.

She could never forgive herself if something happened to you because of your argument. She slams her hands down on her desk, almost breaking it with the amount of force she uses.

Bada storms out of her office, heading down the corridor toward her bedroom, pushing the door open before heading toward her bedside table. She opens the first drawer, revealing a black pistol. She grabs it, about to exit her bedroom when her eyes catch the portrait of her mother hanging just above her bedside table. She takes a moment to face it, her face morphing into a grim expression. 

“I won’t fail you, mother.”

Lusher, Tatter, Kyma, Minah, Chehe, and Soweon, otherwise known as Bebe are all gathered in the armory room, guns in their hands. Lusher dons a sniper, Tatter a pump shotgun, Kyma a handgun, Minah a rifle, Cheche a break action, and Soweon a pistol.

“She managed to pickpocket Hyo?” Soweon exclaims, loading her pistol with bullets. “How is that possible?”

“She must not be as innocent as we thought.” Cheche comments. “Out of all of us, Hyo is the most alert and aware of her surroundings. She has some skill.”

“Enough talking.” Lusher cuts in, clicking a magazine into her sniper. “We’re wasting time. Boss wants us to find her as soon as possible.”

Bebe falls into line, following their second-in-command to the first level of the Lee mansion where Hyo is, tapping her foot against the marbled floor impatiently.

“Do you know where she is?” Bada’s booming voice causes all her subordinates to freeze. It’s brimming with urgency, and full of poison.

Hyo looks up at where her boss is standing at the top of the spiral staircase, her aura demonstrating absolute authority. “I think she’s lost her phone.”

“What do you mean?” Tatter speaks up.

“The location stopped moving right in front of her friend, Jae’s house. But it’s not inside, it’s farther down the road.”

The room becomes astoundingly quiet, so silent you could most certainly hear a pin drop. Although no one has the heart to say it, they all know the truth. You’ve been taken.

But then, Bada’s heavy footsteps begin descending the stairs, her eyes alit with a fiery passion and her eyes fixed into a firm glare.

“We’re finding my fiancée.” She demands. “And if she’s not home by the end of the night, it’ll be your head on a pike.” She points at Hyo, her pistol held firmly in her other hand.

“Yes, Boss,” Hyo says fearlessly. Truthfully, she felt partially at fault for what had happened. If she had only brought you home the second she realized you were throwing a party, or if she paid more attention when you bumped into her, you would be here, safe. 

Before they can all head out, Bada’s phone buzzes in her pocket. She stops, pulling it out and observing the caller ID. Her eyes widen when she sees it, immediately pressing the answer button and holding the phone up to her ear. She mutters your name into the speaker, causing all of Bebe to freeze and look at her in shock.

“Where are you?” Bada says, voice soft and full of worry.

“Hello?” A voice that is most certainly not yours greets her ears.

Bada’s expression shifts immediately, her eyes narrowing to slits and her voice dropping. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Are you Bada Lee?” The voice says hurriedly.

“Yes. How did you get this phone? Where is my fiancée?” Bada demands.

“This is Jae, Unnie’s best friend.”

“Jae?” Bada says, her tone calming the slightest bit. “Where is she?”

“Bada, you need to come here quick.” She cries. “Unnie called me a few minutes ago saying she wanted to stay the night with me, but right when I saw her pulling into the driveway, another car parked beside her, and I think they took her!”

Bada’s hands form fists as she motions with her head for Bebe to go into the garage full of cars. They do so immediately, piling into a modified and armored SUV with a sunroof. Lusher sits behind the wheel while Hyo takes the passenger’s seat. The rest of the girls sit in the back, guns positioned in their laps, Minah poking out of the sunroof with her rifle propped up in front of her.

Bada follows after them, getting into her personal, fortified sports car as the door to the garage slowly begins to open. She puts Jae on speaker, “Did you see who took her?”

“It was dark, but I recognized one person,” Jae confirms. “It was this woman who was at the party I threw for Unnie. She was staring at her the entire night like a creep.”

“What does she look like?” Bada asks through her teeth.

“She’s wearing a white dress shirt, a pair of black pants… oh, and she has very vibrant, red hair!”

Bada pulls up next to Bebe’s car, her eyes meeting Lusher’s, a new type of rage building in her irises. “Seong.”

When you awake from your slumber there’s a pounding ache at the back of your head, and your eyes are blurry. You blink as you try to gather your bearings and sit up, but your arms are held behind your back by something. You start to panic, your head whipping around as you begin to remember what had happened just before you lost consciousness.

You’d been driving the Jeep toward Jae’s house whilst sobbing uncontrollably, realizing that your selfishness would most likely cost you your engagement to Bada.

When you were a few minutes away from Jae, you called her with trembling hands, breathing heavily into your phone.

Your friend muttered your name into the phone, sounding like she’d just woken up.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice shook with emotions. “Is it okay if I stay with you for the night?”

“Of course,” Jae answered immediately. “But what’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

“Bada and I got into a fight.” You admitted. “I think she’s going to call off the engagement.”

“What?” Jae’s incredulous voice rang out of the phone.

“I’ll tell you everything in a second, I’m right next to your house.” You made a left into Jae’s neighborhood, finding the lights in her house on. You parked a little further down the street, seeing stray liquor bottles and red solo cups littering her lawn, most likely thrown away by her drunk party guests. “Okay, I’m here.”

“Where?” Jae’s figure approached the window that oversaw her driveway, her eyes squinting as she tried to discern your body from the pitch-darkness of the night. “I don’t see you.”

You sniffled into the microphone, switching hands as you climbed out of the Jeep and waved your hands to get Jae’s attention. “To your right.”

Jae’s eyes shifted in your direction, and after searching for a few minutes her eyes shone with recognition. “Oh, I see you!” She waved back at you, the interaction distracting you to the point where you didn’t hear a car pull up next to you until people were clambering out of it, their heavy footfalls approaching you.

You jumped when you felt an arm grab you, gasping and struggling against their grip. “Let me go!”

Jae’s voice came out of your phone, saying your name, but before you could answer her or call out for help, something hard hit you in the back of your head and caused you to fall limp into your kidnapper's arms. But before you fully lost consciousness, you caught a brief glint of red hair from the corner of your eye. 

“No.” You whisper, reality finally settling in. “No, no, no.” You try to move your hands, but your eyes find them secured behind your back with handcuffs. You struggle against them, trying to wiggle your hands out but they’re closed tight against your flesh, making the steel rub your skin raw. You hiss in pain but continue trying until your wrists are red. You try to move toward the wall behind you, leaning on it to help you stand up.

Once on your feet, you stomp on the floor, trying to break the heel of your platform heels. You repeat your action a few times on each foot until part of the heel breaks off, leaving you with shoes that are easier to run in. You huff out in exhaustion, but you’re not done yet. Using the wall once again, you attempt to get your arms in front of you by jumping and pulling your arms under you. Thankfully, you’re successful, and let out a breathy laugh of victory. 

 You slide down the wall, taking a small break when you suddenly hear footsteps coming close to the room you’re trapped in. Your eyes widen in fear as you try to back away further from the door.

“Look who’s awake.” The woman with red hair enters the room, her voice coming out in a sing-song.

“Who are you?” You rasp, sitting up tall. Although you’re terrified out of your mind, you know better than to show it. 

“The name’s Seong, sweetheart.” She smirks, one of her lackeys trailing after her. “And you have something I want.” You stare back at her as she gets closer to you, bending down so you’re at eye level. “Not going to ask me what it is?”

You say nothing, instead just keep eye contact with her, never once wavering under her unnerving gaze.

“Ah, we have a strong one here.” Seong laughs heartily. “I can see why Bada keeps you around.”

Mentally, you curse at yourself. Of course you’d been kidnapped as some sort of leverage piece between this woman and Bada. She’s most likely one of the rival gangs that’d been waiting for the chance to pounce at an opening to get through to Bada. And you’d stupidly given her the perfect opportunity.

“Well…” Seong’s voice drops, chills running down your spine as her eyes lower to your figure. “I’m guessing she doesn’t just appreciate your banter, huh?” She reaches out to touch you, her cold hands dragging across your collarbones. “So pretty…”

“Don’t touch me.” You spit, tone dripping with disgust as you recoil away from her.

“So lively too.” Seong chuckles.

“Bada’s going to come get me.” You cut in, glaring at the woman with fiery hair.

“Oh yes, I’m counting on that.” Seong smiles. “You know, she owes me a lot of money.” She stands up and begins to pace around the room. “My father and her father used to work together back in the day. But once Lee died and your little wife took over his business, she cut ties with him. Apparently, selling drugs is too ‘corrupt’ for her.” She scoffs loudly, the sound full of resentment and anger. “My father lost all his connections. He had to start selling to junkies on the streets, and now he’s running out of money.”

She stops in front of you again, a twisted smile stretching across her face.

“Bring him in,” Seong says to the lackey behind her. He follows her orders, trailing out of the room before he returns minutes later, a man shuffling behind him. When the man steps into the low light of the room, you audibly gasp and your eyes widen. “Remember him?” Seong stands next to the man–the same man from the mall. The man that’d harassed you, and had been humiliated by Bada.

Here he stands, the right side of his face swollen and colored in grotesque combinations of yellow and purple bruises.

“You.” The man rasps, his eyes shining with a crazy glint.

“This man right here was beaten half to death by Bada when I found him lying on the street.” Seong pats his shoulder. “Imagine my surprise when he told me how he’d accidentally hit on the Bada Lee’s fiancée, and almost gotten himself killed because of it.” She circles around the man. “Finding you after that didn’t take much. And look at you now…”

“Lying on the floor like some pathetic bitch.” The man spits. “How does it feel?”

“Go to hell.” You snap at him, eyes set in a glare.

“You should be careful how you speak to me.” The man warns you, walking closer before he bends down in front of you. “You’re the one who’s restrained, and at our mercy.”

“And yet despite that, it’ll be your blood that stains this floor when Bada finds me.” You retaliate.

The man’s face screws up in anger, and in a flash, he grabs onto your necklace, using it to tug you forward painfully. “You bitch–”

Your eyes go wide as you watch your necklace–Bada’s mother’s necklace–stretch in his hold. “No–” you choke out, using what little control you have of your hands to slug them against his face, taking his hands off the necklace. But unfortunately, his strength ends up ripping it off your neck, the broken jewelry falling onto the ground. “No!” You cry, scrambling over to the necklace, trying to grab it with your hands.

The man turns to face you, wearing a look of anger you’d never seen before in your life. He raises his fist, about to punch you when a hand stops him from doing so.

“Now, now, let’s not get too caught up in our anger.” Seong pulls the man away from you and pushes him toward the door. “We’ll have our fun once Bada arrives, believe me. You can do the honors of killing her if you really want to.”

Seong follows the man out of the room, her lackey trailing behind her before she stops to give you one final look, and closes the door to your room, leaving you trembling and in almost complete darkness.

In the raven black of the night, Bada, Tatter, Chehe, Hyo, Kyma, Minah, and Soweon stand at the door to Seong’s hideout, guns held tightly in their hands. Bada turns to look at a building across the street, holding a thumbs up in the air. Atop the building is Lusher, her sniper propped up against the ledge of the roof, her scope focused on Bada’s signal. She traces the red dot coming from her sniper around Bada’s thumb, indicating she’s ready.

“Lusher’s in position.” Bada turns back to face Bebe, nodding at them. “Let’s not waste any more time.”

“Yes, Boss.” They all parrot in response.

Bada turns to face the doorknob, pointing her gun at it before shooting. Tatter steps up first, shouldering the door open with intense force, making it swing open and reveal Seong’s hideout. Some lackeys that had been standing around jump at the sudden intrusion, their hands instinctively reaching for their guns. But all of Bebe’s members are twice as fast and skilled. Tatter shoots down one man with her shotgun while the rest of Bebe pile in, backing her up and mulling down the waves of oncoming men like they’re bugs.

Bada steps in last, shooting a man who was running in as backup, then shooting another who almost managed to get a shot in on Minah. She charges forward without fear, cutting through the mess of flying bullets and punching one of Seong’s men in the gut, then shooting him between the eyes. His blood splatters against the side of her suit as she kicks his body away, continuing her advance until she makes it out of the entrance of the hideout, and into a split hallway.

Bada keeps her pistol trained up and ears keen as she hears Lusher’s sniper bullets break through glass windows and hit some of the men still flocking to the entrance. An emergency alarm begins to blare in the hideout, red lights bathing Bada’s figure as she studies both paths ahead of her.

Suddenly to her right, she hears loud footsteps approaching and whips around to face a man running down the hallway. Thinking quickly, she shoots him in the foot before he has the chance to reach for his gun. He falls to the floor, screaming in pain whilst clutching his wounded foot. Bada walks over to him, kicking his gun away then aiming her pistol at his head.

“Where is she?” She yells over the loud, blaring alarm.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” The lackey wails.

“Yes you do. Tell me or I’ll kill you!” Bada places her pistol on the man’s forehead, making his pathetic wailing increase.

“Okay, okay, just please don’t shoot me!” He begs.

Bada grabs the man by his clothes, hoisting him up and pushing him forward, causing him to stumble and almost fall onto the floor again. “Show me the way, now!”

The man cries as he hobbles forward, leading her in your direction.

“Fifty-five, fifty-six, fifty-seven…” your voice mutters amidst the silence, keeping track of the minutes passing by since Seong left. You stare at the steel door separating you from your freedom, hoping with every minute you count, Bada gets closer to finding and rescuing you.

It’s at minute forty-two when bright, red lights flood your room, blinding you and throwing you off your count as loud alarms sound outside. You sit up, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

“Bada…” you sigh in relief. She came for you.

Another five minutes pass before you hear movement coming towards your room, making you scramble towards the door. But when it opens, you’re not greeted by the sight of your fiancée. No, instead, Seong rushes inside, her red hair ruffled and her breaths uneven as she closes the door behind her.

“Fucking–” She mutters, her eyes finding you instantly.

“I told you.” You smirk. “You’re all dead.”

Seong stares back at you silently before charging up to you and slapping you across the face. You shriek and recoil back as she breaks into manic laughter, pulling out a gun from her pocket. “Maybe, but if I die, you’re coming with me, sweetheart.” She clicks the safety off, her finger in position to press against the trigger when three loud bangs come from outside your prison, making you scramble back in shock, and Seong turn to face the door.

A long moment of tense silence follows before the door to your prison slowly creeks open, Seong gulping as the hand holding her gun starts to tremble. Right before the door fully swings open, a shot is fired from the person outside, grazing Seong’s cheek and making her cower away.

She runs over to you, picks you up from the floor and holds onto you by your throat, her gun pressed up against your temple. "Don't get any closer, Bada Lee,” Seong yells, digging her fingers into your throat. “or I’ll kill her!”

Bada side-steps away from the door, revealing one of Seong’s men dead behind her, blood leaking from his foot and his forehead. “Let her go, Seong,” Bada demands. “Your problem is with me, not with her.”

“But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? When you hurt one person, the people you care about suffer!” Seong laughs maniacally. “You had no mercy for my family, so why should I have any for yours?”

“You did all of this because I refused to sell your drugs?” Bada spits, her voice dripping with venom. “You’re pathetic, just like your father.”

Seong’s face reflects sheer anger in response to Bada’s words. She’s about to pull the trigger of her gun when Bada shoots first. She hits Seong in the knee, causing her to collapse and shoot the ceiling instead of you. You scramble away as Bada lunges forward, tackling Seong and knocking the gun out of her hand before she can try to shoot at you again.

Unfortunately, Seong is strong as well and fights back against Bada for her gun, both trading blows with each other until Seong manages to get Bada’s gun from her grasp. She pistol whips Bada in the face, giving her a cut across the nose as Bada falls to the floor, blood falling from her wound.

“Not so tough now, huh, Lee?” Seong screams as she points Bada’s very own gun at her.

“You should know that even if you kill me,” Bada says through heaving breaths, “you’ll still never make it out of this building alive.”

Seong bares her teeth at Bada, pushing her gun closer to her temple. “You’ll still be dead.”

“Don’t!” You scream, emerging from behind Seong, holding her gun. “Put the gun down or I’ll shoot.”

Seong clicks her tongue, laughing condescendingly as she turns to face you. “You don’t have the guts to kill me.”

“But I do.” Bada jabs her fist into Seong’s stomach, knocking the woman off of her and the air out of her lungs. Bada takes her gun back and places it in her pocket as the woman with red hair heaves against the floor, her eyes the size of saucers.

Bada walks over to your trembling figure, her gaze soft as her hands come up to grab yours that are still holding onto Seong’s gun.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” She whispers tenderly into your ear, bringing you against her chest as she quietly soothes your shaky breaths.

“I thought you were–” You begin, the words falling from your mouth through gasps.

“I know, I know.” She shushes you. “Everything’s all right now. Give me the gun, honey.” You let go of Seong’s gun, allowing Bada to take it into her hands as she faces the red-haired woman who’s writhing on the floor. “You should have known better than to touch the people I care about, Seong.” Bada’s voice is cold, and more charged with rage than you’ve ever heard her carry before. “You’ll always be your father’s waste of a daughter.”

Through Seong’s choking breaths, you hear a sob wrack her voice, tears falling from her eyes and running down the sides of her face.

Before Bada pulls the trigger, her unoccupied hand comes down to shield your eyes. “Don’t look,” She whispers softly, “and cover your ears.” With tears streaming down your face, you plug your ears and shut your eyes, a deafening shot following soon after. A few minutes pass before you feel Bada move you around, hugging you close to her chest as she breathes a sigh of relief. “It’s over.”

It’s like the floodgates open at the sound of Bada’s soothing voice because you start to sob violently into her chest, wishing you could cling onto her, but you can’t your hands still restrained by handcuffs. “Bada.” You cry, burying your face into her warm body heat.

“I know, I’m so sorry.” She whispers. “I came as fast as I could.”

“I thought she was going to shoot you.” You sob. “I was so scared–”

“Shh, it’s all right honey, I promise. I’m okay.” She pats the back of your head before pulling away to gaze into your eyes. They’re wide and filled with tears, but so infinitely beautiful to her. Bada wipes your tears away with her thumb, smiling softly at you. She takes a step back, taking off her suit jacket before placing it onto your shoulders and rubbing up and down your arms. “Let’s go home, okay?”

Bada’s room is warm, the atmosphere a far cry from the prison you’d been held in. You sit on Bada’s fluffy bed, staring into the distance with a faraway expression while waiting for her to return.

Thankfully she does as soon as the thought crosses your mind. She makes her presence known by knocking gently on the wood of her bedroom door. “Can I come in?”

“Yes.” You croak.

Bada enters the room with a mug of piping tea in one hand, and uses her unoccupied one to close the door behind her. She sits next to you on the bed, handing you the mug while muttering a soft warning about how hot it is.

“Thank you.” You say quietly, taking the drink and blowing on it.

Bada places her big hand on your thigh, rubbing it gently as she looks into your downcast eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here.” You admit, staring at the ripples in the tea caused by your breath.

“I’m glad.” Bada’s eyes move from yours to your hands, noticing how red and raw your wrists are. She removes her hand from your thigh, gently touching your wrist so she can turn it over to get a better look at it. “Should I get you some pain medicine?”

“No.” You answer quickly, your eyes shooting up from your tea and meeting hers. “Stay with me, please.”

Bada nods silently, rubbing the skin just above your wrist. “I’m sorry.” She whispers grimly. “You got hurt because of me.”

You stare at Bada with an incredulous look, shaking your head rapidly. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t lied to you and went to that party, Seong would have never been able to get to me–”

“You went to that party because you missed your friends,” Bada argues back lightly. “I deprived you of a social life in my obsession with keeping you safe, and look at where it got us.”

“Bada Lee, this is not your fault.” You say firmly. “You saved my life.”

Bada looks like she wants to argue more, but holds herself back. The silence between you two allows your still-racing mind to catch up, and you suddenly sit up, eyes wide and full of sorrow.

"What is it?" Bada questions, noticing your expression.

"Bada..." you trail off, turning to the side to grab something you'd hidden. Facing her again, her mother's broken necklace is in the palm of you hand. "I'm so sorry. I tried to keep it safe..."

Bada takes the necklace out of your hand and holds it up in front of you both. "I don't care."

"What?" You breathe incredulously. "But Bada, it was your mother's–"

"And it can be fixed." She says softly. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Your look of shock melts into a sappy smile. “Me too.” You agree, placing your mug-free hand on top of Bada’s. She moves her hand around, weaving your fingers together tenderly as her thumb swipes across the skin of your hand.

“Did Seong hurt you anywhere else?” Bada asks, scanning your face for injuries.

You turn your face to your right, showing her your left cheek, which is now slightly bruised. “She slapped me.”

Bada’s eyes take in your injured cheek, a storm of emotions flashing in her irises for nothing more than a split second before she masks it with a caring expression. She brings up your arm so that it’s in front of her, places her lips on your hurt wrist, then she brings it back down and brushes her other hand across your left cheek. She leans in, pressing a soft kiss to each of the growing bruises.

When she’s done she leans back, nothing but pure care in her eyes as she gazes at you.

“Can I ask you something?” You mumble, butterflies dancing in the pit of your stomach.

“You can ask me anything, honey,” Bada whispers, tracing shapes onto your hands. 

“You always kiss my injuries.” You point out, careful to keep your voice sweet so she knows you like her display of affection. “Is there a reason why?”

Bada’s eyes leave yours for a brief moment, finding something above your head and gazing there before her eyes move back to you. “My mother, she used to…” she trails off, “she used to do that when I was younger. It always made me feel better.”

You smile softly at Bada, warmth flooding your veins. “That’s beautiful.”

She smiles back at you, muttering a soft thank you. You both allow a comfortable silence to fill the room until an idea pops into your head.

You quickly place your mug of tea on Bada’s beside table, then turn to face her. She gives you a confused expression when you take both of her hands and lift them up. Bada’s long fingers curl against yours, displaying her bloody and bruised knuckles. You lean down, placing a soft kiss next to each of them, unable to see how Bada’s eyes widen at your actions until you pull away.

When you look back at her, she’s looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. You smile at her, then lean up, placing one final kiss on her nose, right below the cut Seong made.

Pulling away for the final time, Bada brings you closer to her, missing your warmth as she touches her forehead to yours and closes her eyes.

“Please never leave me again.”

❝ should my hands be stained with blood, let them be so, solely for you. ❞

[hannie-dul-set]

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [3].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, talks about stalking, talks about death, data privacy violations, so much emotional whiplash yummy, a very long conversation, google dependent historical information. WORD COUNT. 6.3k.

NOTE. this chapter finally made its way out hell 😭😭😭 per usual, please let me know your thoughts on the chapter! a single comment on ao3 inspired me to finish this, so ur feedback really means a lot! enjoy<3

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 3 — can we go back to being parasocial?

IF SOMEONE HEARS YOUR SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS THAT UNFOLDED WITHIN THE PAST FEW DAYS, they may accuse you of lying. Delusional, even. You’d think the same had you not been the center of it all— yet the proof is in your pockets. Your phone. In the album Choi Yeonjun failed to sign, stuffed inside your bag at the last minute before you left your apartment earlier.

The summary. Right. Yes.

“Can they stop sharing that video of Yeonjun excessively flirting with a fan?! I’m going to kill myself if I see it one more time.”

You were lucky enough to nab a fansign slot. But instead of getting Choi Yeonjun’s signature, you ended up getting a kiss of a hand instead, along with a scrawl of numbers on your album that you’re far too terrified to try to dial.

“Hey, send me our photo with Soobin the other day,” nudges Huening from beside you. “I’m gonna print it out and put it in a locket and use it as a family heirloom.”

You bumped into one of your favorite actors, Choi Soobin, in the middle of a late night convenience store run with your friends to fuel your group all nighter, stained his shirt with your ice cream, and got a photo with him in the process.

“By the way, have you called the business card yet? What are you gonna do with your broken phone screen?”

And Choi Beomgyu may or may not have professed his undying love for you, asked for your hand in marriage, and started crying in front of you in less than ten fucking minutes.

“She’s zoned out.”

The problem is, you can’t even bask in the delightful absurdity of it all because one common thread from all those three separate instances has been keeping you up for nights. It’s clawing at your brain, lingering in the back of your mind like an incessant stalker— which, mind you, is not a pleasant feeling when the very causes of such disturbance were once the bringers of joy and all things good in your otherwise meaningless life as a cog in the capitalist machinery that is society.

“Hello? Are you awake?”

Said problem being the fact that you’re pretty sure they all called you by your name at one point.

How the fuck do they know your name?

“I deleted Twitter. I Airdropped it to you. No, I have not called it yet. Now please let me think in peace.”

Crazy. This is all too crazy. In the first place, what are the odds that you bump into three celebrities within one week’s time? Is this some sort of prank, or something? Are those three filming a hidden camera show together? No, no. That couldn’t be because there’s no fucking way a company is sane enough to stage a risky hidden camera prank during a fansign knowing full well how obsessive and insane fans can get. You’re lucky your face wasn’t caught in any of the videos circulating online— video of you and Choi Yeonjun, mostly him, acting out a fucking sageuk. You’re lucky you haven’t been doxxed yet.

“Finish your sandwich,” Taehyun clicks his tongue, nudging your food closer to you, and you sigh heavily. Maybe you’re just wrong, you think, taking a bite from the bread. Maybe this is just a misunderstanding. Maybe you’re just overthinking.

You eat your lunch and steal some wet wipes from Gaeul in between. Right. It’s not like you’re ever gonna bump into them again. You live in, as cliche as it sounds, two different worlds after all. You’re just gonna watch their dramas, listen to their music, enjoy their performances, and that’s it that’s it that’s it.

“Prof Jang sent a message. Class is canceled.”

But still—

“Woohoo! Let’s go to the new dessert shop that opened downtown.”

Choi Beomgyu’s voice saying I love you, Choi Soobin’s cologne wafting in the air you were breathing in, and Choi Yeonjun’s lips pressed against your skin.

How can a sane person just forget about all of that?!

“Why do you look like you’re fantasizing about perverted shit?” Woohyun slaps you in the face with a reality check. This is fucking stupid.

“I’m not fantasizing,” you grunt, because they were events that actually fucking happened— they weren’t birthed from your brain’s insanity. “Anyway, dessert? Where is it?” You ignore your burning face, hoping that your friends decide to ignore it too, but Gaeul has her eyes narrowed at you. Crap. She didn’t recognize that it’s you in the videos right? Holy fucking hell, you’d rather die.

“Aren’t you gonna answer that?”

Oh. Well. That’s— that’s something. A good something because she hasn’t suspected you yet, moitioning instead to your cracked phone that has been buzzing under your notice because you’ve been thinking way too fucking much.

You check the caller ID, but it’s an unknown number, and it doesn’t match the business card you got from your run in with the alleged Choi Beomgyu. “Hello?” you answer, and a voice you don’t recognize says your name and asks if it’s you. “Yes, this is her. Who’s this?”

Another item added to the weird as fuck things that happened to your this week. You excuse yourself from your friends, and with knitted brows, you listen to the stranger at the other end of the line. “You met Choi Soobin the other day at a 7-Eleven in Gangnam, right?” The fuck? Did someone see you that day? Is this a stalker? “This is his manager. Lee Byeongho. I would like to speak with you regarding a certain matter.”

Now, hold the fucking phone.

“Is everything alright?”

You respond to Huening’s concern with a stiff smile before turning away from them. “Did I do something wrong?” you fuss into the call. “I didn’t post any of the photos from that day. I never talked about it online either, and I’m pretty sure my friends haven’t either. Wait. Wait a minute. How did you get my number?”

“Yes, it was difficult to obtain knowing only your first name and university.” That doesn’t answer your question. That just gave you more questions. “But, no. You aren’t in trouble. Actually...I called because you’re the only one who can help us— help Soobin— get out of trouble.”

Your face scrunches up.

“I’m at your campus right now. Parking lot. Do you mind meeting me for a moment?”

Just what did you get yourself into?

“You haven’t finished your food. Where are you going?”

“Somewhere,” you reply, quickly snatching your half-eaten sandwich from the table as your friends follow your swift movements with matching looks of confusion. “I’ll be right back. It’s nothing, don’t worry.” However, you are quite worried. You’re pretty sure Lee Manager, or whatever, is committing some data privacy crimes against you, but the one thing you want at the moment is answers. Your brain is about to explode from all the fucking questions and confusion. There’s a sliver of hope that meeting up with this sketchy guy can answer a few of them. You’d take that chance to air out your head.

There’s a black van in the parking lot. It’s the first thing you noticed because one of its doors are open, and there’s a familiar looking guy waiting just in front of the exposed seats. 

He notices you approaching. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says. What’s with men you’re meeting for the first time treating you with familiarity? You’re going to rip your hair out and throw yourself into moving traffic.

“Sure, but can you get to the point?” you stiffly say. “I’m a little busy. I still have classes in a bit.”

“Of course, I’m sorry. This whole situation must’ve come off as a shock to you.” Great, now you’re feeling bad. Soobin’s manager (allegedly) looks like he’s been through a whole lot as well. “Anyway. You are a fan of Choi Soobin, correct?”

“Well,” you blink. “Yes.”

“How about the dramas Kang Jaehee has written and directed?” he follows up. “Are you a fan of those as well?”

Your brows furrow. “I guess?” Peach Tree. That Summer. Mogi. Those are the titles that come right at the top of your head. “What does that have to do anything with me?” Manager Lee spares you a look of pity. You feel like this meet-up is just set out to making you even more fucking confused.

“I sincerely apologize. I didn’t want to drag you into this either, but I’m afraid you’re the only option I have,” says Manager Lee despondently. “Since...since you are a fan of Soobin, and I assume that means you also care about his career, so—”

He pauses. Like he’s practicing the next set of words he’s about to say inside his head.

“—do you mind meeting up with him to convince him to take the lead role for Kang Jaehee’s upcoming drama?”

But nothing could’ve prepared you for that.

What.

What the fuck?

“Mr Manager. Sir,” you start, appalled beyond comprehension. “I’d appreciate it if you start making a bit more sense.” 

“Trust me, I can’t believe I’m doing this either.”

You’re speechless. Your mouth is hanging open with no words coming out because, again, what the fuck? Manager Lee looks just as defeated as you, as if he weren’t the one who had just presented that ridiculous proposal. You are, quite frankly, at a discernible loss. 

Manager Lee lets out a sigh and digs a hand into his pocket. “I’m afraid this is all the time I have today. But please contact me once you’ve made a decision.” Another business card acquired. This is just dandy. “I am really hoping for your cooperation, miss. I’m sure you’re aware of Soobin’s inactivity lately, and my intention of approaching you today is simply in order to help my star’s career. Please consider the favor positively, and we will compensate you as much as my authority can allow.”

With that, you’re left with another laminated piece of paper in your hands. Gosh. This is a headache. When you get back to your friends, they notice the distress you’re in, further justifying a visit to the new dessert store, and seeing how your soul has completely left your body, you’re dragged along with them with ease.

“Hey, pick one. My treat,” says Woohyun. You let out a grunt and point at a random pastry on display. Next thing you know, you’re seated in between Huening and Gaeul at the store you don’t even know the name of. 

Huening is force feeding you an eclair. “Eat.” Your scowl disappears when you allow the eclair entry into your mouth. “Seriously, what’s going on with you? Who did you meet earlier?” 

Seeing as you show absolutely no intentions of telling them, they refuse to question you about it further. Good on them, because there’s no way in hell you’re spilling your predicament. Not until you find out exactly what kind of situation you’re in, at the very least. The two business cards feel like they’re weighing your pockets down, a constant reminder of their existence along with the scrawl Yeonjun left behind.  

“I know exactly how to make you feel better.”

The declaration comes from Gaeul, who slides her phone over to you, and when you look down to see what exactly her miracle medicine is to make you feel less manic, you hack out a cough upon seeing Choi Yeonjun’s face on her phone screen. “The hell is wrong with you?” asks Taehyun from across, giving you some water to push down the eclair lodged in your throat. “I know you like him, but even that is an overreaction.”

Jesus, you’re close to losing it. When you’ve avoided choking to death, Gaeul puts an airpod into your ear, and you hear Yeonjun reading out some comments. “Choi Yeonjun, you look really happy lately, did something good happen? someone asked,” he says while having snacks of his own. “First of all, why are you calling me Choi Yeonjun? It’s like you’re putting a wall between us. I don’t like it.”

Gaeul makes a noise of some sort and had you not been subjected to this week’s insanities, you might have reacted the same way too. Instead, you simply listen to his live in caution, feigning disinterest as you watch him nibble on some pretzels and churros through the screen, continuing to answer the slew of questions in the comments.

“Anyway, you’re right! Something good did happen.” Yeonjun hums while picking out a pretzel from the paper bag, rustling noise and a lively tune filling the audio for a moment— a short moment, right before he continues speaking. “That’s because I finally met the love of my life.”

Taehyun has to give you his water again.

“Oh? Oho, what’s with the exclamation points?” he laughs. “Did I meet them the other day? Hmm...that’s a secret. You’re curious? You think it might be you? Well, let’s see. Should I describe her?”

“God, he’s so fucking messy,” says Gaeul from beside you. “This is why I like him. How many calls is he getting for his manager and company this time?”

“What’s going on? Why is she so startled?”

“Yeonjun’s talking about his apparent soulmate, I don’t know. Wanna listen?”

“Didn’t he get in trouble for doing the same thing last time too?”

Now, you’re not one to give a shit about his love life, and you like to stay out of that side of celebrity gossip as much as you can, but Choi Yeonjun himself is droning on about the love of his life right now. You can’t not hear about it even if you want to. However, as much as you want to let things come into one ear and out through the other, you can’t. Because— wait. Wait. His description is eerily familiar. His description is making you double take and second guess what you’re fucking hearing.

“Sounds a lot like you,” Taehyun remarks without much thought, right after Choi Yeonjun says that the girl he likes has a bit of an attitude, but he likes that about her.

Huening lets out a snort. “Yeah, that’s definitely you. Why don’t you go in a wedding dress the next time you attend a fansign? Who knows, you might have a shot.”

You snap them a dirty look. Fuck. This is making your head spin. For the second time, Choi Yeonjun’s tendency of putting himself into headlines and the trending searches for doing something insane is giving you nothing but stress.

“I did give her my number, but she hasn’t messaged me yet, so I’m quite hurt.”

Number. Hold on a fucking second.

“The comments are going crazy.”

You grab your bag from underneath you, dropping it down to your lap.

“Hey, if you’re watching this, pl—eeeeease contact me. Kim Noona thinks I have a phone addiction now because I’ve been dying waiting for your call.”

You quickly get up from your seat.

“Yo, where are you going this time?”

“I need a minute,” you announce, eyes scanning the store for a quiet place alone while hugging your bag to your chest. There’s nowhere. Looks like you have to get out. 

“Damn, we were just joking. As if you have a chance with a celebrity like him.”

Huening’s joke is ignored and you quickly leave outside the doors, making a sharp turn around the corner, slipping through the passersby downtown until you find an empty alley. Your heart is racing. Your heart is racing like crazy and you may be reaching right now. You may be acting crazy, but what Choi Beomgyu said during the interview with Yeong-Il the other day is echoing in your mind, and— in conjunction with everything else that had happened— you’re starting to think that maybe he wasn’t joking.

Your cracked phone screen greets you when you take it out of your pocket. On your other hand is the first business card you got this week.

“Who’s this?”

“Hello. Good day.” You tell them your name, the events that led up to you receiving this number, with the hope that maybe you’re finally on to something. “I’d like to talk about the compensation for my broken phone.”

Whatever that something is, you’re gonna get to the bottom of it.

*

It’s already beyond closing time at Kwiyeomdongmoim Cafe (a mouthful, you know), yet your pink apron is still neatly tied around your waist as you pace back and forth, to and fro, in circles inside the breakroom. The time is half-past nine in the evening. You should’ve clocked out thirty minutes ago, but you’re still waiting. 

The knock on the door signified the end of your wait. You turn to see your boss’s head popping in through the half-open crack. 

“Three guys are waiting for you,” informs Seokmin. “They all seem handsome. Are they your suitors?”

When you ditched your friends at the still unnamed dessert store the other day, you did it to make a few calls. Three, to be exact. Today is the culmination of those calls, which is why you’ve been erratically nervous the entire freaking day. Choi Soobin, Choi Beomyu, and Choi Yeonjun’s managers all answered respectively when you called all the sketchy numbers you got and made some negotiations (apparently, the mess on your album is Yeonjun’s number, but he got his phone confiscated after that livestream). 

“As if,” you say, walking up to the door leading back into the cafe. Suitors, more like stalkers. Fans stalking their idols is common, but the other way around is a pretty fresh idea. “Anyway, thanks, Kyeom. Thank you for letting me use the store for a while.” Because this is the only private place you can think of outside of your own home— and there’s no way in hell you’re letting them in there when you don’t even know how they managed to get hold of your personal information.

“We’re closed anyway.” Seokmin smiles and makes way for you to pass by. “Go ahead and do your thing. Do you want me to stay inside or keep watch?” 

“You can stay inside, it’s alright.” 

He nods. “Call me when you’re done. Scream if you need backup. I can handle all of them.”

You laugh and thank him once more, a pat on his arm before you decide to peek out the door first as a precautionary measure. From your spot, you can see three thoroughly covered men in windbreakers, caps, and masks sitting on three separate tables in the store. The blinds have already been rolled down, so you can’t see anything outside, but there doesn’t appear to be any cameras around, so you take it as a safe sign to finally leave your hiding spot.

The moment you do, the break room door creaks, and all three pairs of eyes immediately fall on you. 

They stand up. They call out your name in unison.

Holy shit.

And when they do, they all look at each other with a sudden flash of hostility in the air.

Um. Well. How are you supposed to do this? “H—hello,” you manage to squeak out, prompting their attention once more. Soobin takes off his cap and removes his mask, the other two following suit, and oh my god. Oh my god. You suck in a deep breath. Today, you are not a fan. You are an interrogator. This is not a fansign. This is an interrogation. 

“I— uh, I asked your managers if I can meet you all to—today for a specific reason.” Wow. Good job. Your hands are shaking and you can’t look up from the floor or else you’d start losing your mind. “But—but, before that— would...would you like some drinks…?”

Interrogation paused. You need to get your shit together first.

“Please enjoy.”

With the help of your boss (because your hands wouldn’t stop shaking and you dropped the first one you made), you managed to whip up four iced teas and settle all three of them into one table at the very back of the store. You send a stiff smile at Seokmin after he placed all the drinks on the table.

God, you owe him so much— especially when he’s being unreasonably glared at by the three men sitting with you right now. Choi Beomgyu to your left, Choi Soobin to your right, Choi Yeonjun directly across from you and holy fuck, you have yet to look at them properly yet for your own safety. They haven’t been talking to each other either, simply sitting and waiting for you to speak. You’re pretty sure they know each other though, at least by name, being in the same industry and all. 

To say that the tension in the air is suffocation would be an understatement. How...how do you start this? The fuck should you say first?

“You know, I was really happy when Kim Noona told me you called.”

Apparently you don’t have to start it. Choi Yeonjun does it for you.

“But why are these two crashing our date?”

And that’s when things also start to get messy.

“Date?” Choi Soobin interjects. He sounds offended. Why does he sound offended. “What are you talking about?”

Choi Yeonjun doesn’t get a chance to make his case. Because Choi Beomgyu from your left suddenly snatches one of your hands from the table, prompting you to look at one of them for the first time tonight, and your eyes fly wide open. “I’d...like to apologize for the other day. I was just overtaken by my emotions. I hope you weren’t too freaked out.”

You are quite freaked out because holy shit, this is too much maybe. Not maybe. Yes. This is too much. Too. Much.“Hey, why are you holding her hand?!” you hear Choi Soobin exclaim from your other side. Choi Beomgyu’s soft expression suddenly disappears into a glare and a sneer the moment he shifts his gaze.

“You’re holding her hand too!”

“Why can’t I?!”

“Hey, this isn’t fair! One of you switch with me—”

Dizzy. You’re feeling dizzy. Your head is spinning and you’re suffocating from the heat emanating from your very face. Whatever they’re arguing about isn’t even reaching your ears anymore. You’re getting lightheaded and your sweaty hands start slipping out from the two’s weirdly tender hold on your hands because your body is physically breaking down.

“Shut up! Oh my god, my head—”

Your vision actually starts spinning for a second so you quickly bring the bottom of your palms to your temples, elbows on the table to balance yourself, only to be wobbled and shaken because the three suddenly jolted off their seats in panic.

“Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine, just please—for the love of god— sit down and shut up.”

They sit down and shut up. You massage your temples in silence. You remove your hands from your face and, after sucking in a deep breath and releasing it thereafter, feel your heartbeat settling into a normal rate. As normal as it can get in this situation.

“Whew. Okay. I think I’m ready. Let’s get down to business.” Finally, you’re the one steering the conversation. You give each of them a once over as quickly as possible because now you know that prolonged eye contact will only hurt you. You settle with looking at the gaps between each of them. That’s fine. You’re fine. “Choi Soobin, Choi Yeonjun, Choi Beomgyu.”

It’s like three bulbs just lit up in succession. Your brain is starting to hurt.

“A—as I was saying, you three are some of South Korea’s biggest celebrities and although I am, in fact, a big fan of all three of you—” Why is Choi Soobin growing pink. Why the fuck is he blushing. “—that— that does not make me fail to recognize the amount of weird shit that’s been happening lately, and I think I need answers.”

They are still sitting down and shutting up. They listen to instructions well, at the very least.

“First, how the fuck did all three of you know my name without any prior introduction. Second—”

The words get clamped in your throat. It’s lodged in there very tightly because you make the mistake of looking one of them in the eye, only to notice that all three of them are looking at you with the same expression. An expression you can only describe as longing.

And your face starts burning.

“Se— second, why…why do you all keep looking at me like I’m an ex you want to get back together with…?”

Maybe you asked the wrong question.

Because for some reason they all look sad now. Really sad. Really fucking sad and it’s making your stomach clench and nerves all numb and funky because making three big celebrities all sad simultaneously is a bragging right at one end of the spectrum, and a national crime at the other.

It’s Choi Soobin who cracks the silence. “I…I had a feeling when I saw you again for the first time at the store.” Again? “Do you not remember me?”

Your face furrows. “No…? Did we ever meet before you became an actor?”

Hurt. The look of sadness has now spiraled into hurt and one might think you just stabbed and twisted a knife into his fucking gut.  “How—how about me?” Your attention turns to Choi Yeonjun who isn’t looking any better. It’s like his entire world view was just proven to be wrong and why does it feel like you’re the one to blame. 

What else can you do but shake your head in denial? Now he looks like he’d just been told he’s adopted!

“You’re…you’re joking,” he tries to laugh it off, but it only comes off as strained and shaky, then, in one fell swoop— desperate. “R—right…?”

“Great!”

Before you start feeling even shittier, Choi Beomgyu finally decides to join in. 

“And here I thought her forgetting about me was the worst case scenario.” His tone is bitter. There’s a snap in his words. “I didn’t think there’d be other bastards in the same situation as me. God fucking damn it.”

There’s a moment of silence. You watch as realization hits the other while you’re still left in the dark. Choi Yeonjun juts his seat closer. Choi Soobin tries to reach a hesitant arm to your direction, but you’re  tugged to the other side by Choi Beomgyu, who’s suddenly a little too, too close.

“Hey.”

Your hands are clamped together. 

“I meant it when I said I love you. I do. I have loved you four hundred years ago and I still love you now, and if whatever god or deity decides to make you meet you for the third time, I’ll still love you then.”

Beomgyu’s holding both of them in between his in a firm grip.

“Second life is about you. Blue Spring is about you. You’re the person I’ve been waiting for from the beginning of this life until the last.”

Now, if this situation wasn’t crazy, your heart would be skipping a beat right now.

But it is crazy. This is fucking insane. And you look around to see that there’s a weird look of sympathy and understanding in the other Choi’s eyes, clearly not recognizing the visceral insanity of this situation, which fills you with a swallowing lump of existential dread. You pry your hands out of Beomgyu’s grasp (you swear you can hear glass breaking), and slowly turn to Choi Yeonjun and say, with a very hesitant, very cautious, “Y...you too…?”

The look on his face says it all. And then you swivel over to Choi Soobin.

“And you?” 

“I’ve lo—”

“No!” you snap. “Don’t finish that sentence. Please. Oh my god.”

You see Seokmin popping his head out from the corner, mouthing an are you okay? and you shakily bring up a weak thumbs up. “Well, isn’t this interesting,” you hear Choi Yeonjun say, which feels like a slap in the face because what exactly is interesting about this. “Here I thought I was special.”

“Get off your high horse,” retorts Choi Soobin, a sneer in his voice. You double take. Choi Soobin is supposed to be sweet and gentle and kind. Who is this man? “Whatever kind of past you had with her doesn’t mean anything. I met her first. I met her at the end of King Danjong’s rule.”

“Ha!” Choi Yeonjun starts. “We got married under King Taejong. I’ve loved her before any of you did.”

Now, what the fuck?

Choi Soobin’s face pales and he chokes over his words. “M—married?”

There’s a smug grin on Choi Yeonjun’s face. He leans back against the chair with his arms crossed in victory. “You heard that correctly. Married. Pack up your bags. Unless you want me to tell you everything we did on our we—”

“Shut up, shut up, I don’t want to hear it!”

Marriage. King Danjong. King Taejong. Second life. The gears are churning inside your head. You don’t like the direction where the gears are pointing.

“What about you?”

Choi Yeonjun raises the question and the attention is now on Choi Beomgyu. He’s been quiet. The other two wait for him to say his piece— a feigned air of disdain and arrogance but there’s an unconcealable undertone of nervousness underneath it all. Your iced teas have been left untouched. Choi Beomgyu simply scoffs and presses his crossed arms against his chest.

“I have no reason to tell you any of that. This is between me and her.”

And at your mention, you receive the undivided attention of three pairs of eyes once more. Your heart rattles. God fucking damn it. Listen, you’re an avid consumer of the entertainment industry. You’ve watched a good amount of dramas and have read a good amount of manhwas to surmise a conclusion with the bits and pieces of stray information being tossed back and forth between the three. And it’s all ridiculous. But you have nothing else to work with unless they come spilling their guts themselves.

“So,” you clear your throat. “Are you three, like…a couple…hundred years old…?”

They all look offended. 

“No!”

Well, maybe you’re wrong about that part. But after a very long, convoluted discussion, the “facts” (if you can even call it that), are finally laid down on your feet.

They say you’ve all met before. Separately, in three separate lifetimes, with this one allegedly being your fourth unless there were lives in between that they can’t remember. One thing for certain is that the three of them remember the life they had while loving you— and they loved you very much apparently because those feelings and memories got carried over even after they got reborn into the present day.

The problem is, you don’t have the same symptoms. You don’t remember anything about your past lives. Hell, you can’t even remember anything in this life before you hit two years old. 

You slump in your seat. The table rattles. They get up from their chairs and come circling around you in concern.

“Are— are you okay, do you need to lie down? You could rest in my van for a while and—”

You swat Choi Yeonjun’s hand away before it could land on your shoulder. You’ve now got your hands on your face in stress, and peeking through you see Choi Soobin on your right, crouching down and looking up at you with furrowed brows and big, sad eyes. On your left is Choi Beomgyu, half-seated on the chair. You let out a very long, very anguished and muffled groan. This is too much. “If— if what you guys are saying is true,” you say. “What does it matter?”

There’s a tense pause in the air. 

“What do you mean…?”

You spring up from your seat and turn around, Choi Yeonjun in front of you. 

“I mean what does it all matter? King Sejeong, Joseon era, or whatever— I don’t care about all of that. We’re in the twenty-first century right now. I’m neither your lover nor your wife. I’m just a fan of your dramas and music and performances and that's it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t really want to see their faces right now. You let a huff of air slip past your lips, turning back around to collect the untouched glasses of drinks on the table.

“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet me and explain. I hope it’s all settled. Thanks for clearing everything up today. You can now all leave.”

It’s Choi Yeonjun who races after you when you make your firm and quick strides to the counter. He cuts off your path. “I—I don’t understand,” he chokes out. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze and see the threat of tears glazing his eyes. “What—what do you mean?”

Admittedly, that hurled a giant pang against your ribcage, knocking the air out of your chest, but you move forward. You brush past him, setting the glasses back on the counter, and— after a moment’s pause— you turn around, a heavy weight on your shoulders. It’s like gravity is trying to suck you deep into the mantle. “What I’m trying to say is we should all just get over what happened all those hundreds of years ago and live our lives in the present. I mean, I don’t know any of you. Don’t you think it’s unhealthy to keep clinging onto the past, especially when you guys are nothing but strangers to me in this life?”

Dead silence. You don’t dare look at any of them in the face. You try and retreat to the break room as quickly as you can, hands fumbling to untie your apron along the way, but you stumble over your steps, screeching to a halt the moment you hear someone say—

“Do you think it’s that easy?”

You could hear your heart in your eardrums. 

It takes all the strength in your body for you to look back, to see the pained expression on Choi Beomgyu’s face standing the farthest away from you out of the three. “Do you think I put my name out there so that it’d be easier for you to find me, wrote all those songs about you in the hopes that I could see you again if you’re someone I can just easily forget?”

Your throat tightens. It’s like you’re swallowing a boulder.

“If you wanted me to forget about you, you shouldn’t have died right in front of me then. You shouldn’t have told me you loved me right before you went cold in my arms if you wanted me to fucking forget.”

Oh.

Oh, god.

Choi Yeonjun and Choi Soobin don’t look any better. It hits you that you might have been more than a little bit unfair.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t know your history. You don’t know what the fuck happened between you and them throughout those years that made them feel so strongly about you. But it must be harder for those who remember than for those who forgot.

It’s not like they chose to live in the present with half of their souls stuck in the past, either. You’ve been acting awfully unfair.

“I was being insensitive. I’m so sorry,” you exhale. Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle. Your head is spinning in circles. “But to be honest, this is all still very overwhelming, and I’m having a hard time comprehending and making sense of everything. It doesn’t feel real.” You try to take a step closer, but your legs give in. Choi Yeonjun quickly rushes to balance you back on your feet.

“Don’t push yourself,” he says, softly. You can’t look at him. God, these guys really know how to bring your guilt all the way home.

“Thanks, um, anyway—” You breathe in. Shit, you can’t believe you’re considering this. “Again, I really can’t and won’t be able to understand the magnitude of your— well, uh— feelings, since I really don’t remember anything. But how about…I spend some time with each of you individually, and maybe…maybe it can help in jogging back my memories?”

The atmosphere shifts. Ah. This feels like a fucking trap.

“You— you mean it?”

To be honest, you’d much rather just not deal with any of this, just stay at home and continue living your life with these three men as persons you only know behind the screen. But those looks in their eyes— hopeful and melancholic— make you feel your organs are being rearranged every five seconds, and you’d feel bad leaving them with the pain of this conversation especially after they poured out their hearts to you.

You can’t deny the joy and escape they’ve given you for the past couple of years you’ve spent as their fan. Maybe entertaining this unreality is the least you can do.

“I mean, well,” you start, clearing your throat. “Choi Beomgyu, you still need to pay for my phone. Choi Soobin, your manager wanted me to talk to you about something, and Choi Yeonjun—”

You look at the guy who still has one arm pressed against your back, two hands in a firm grip on your shoulders. He’s looking at you and batting his eyes expectantly. You let out a sigh and set yourself loose.

“I need to discuss something with you soon, too.” As in, please stop vaguely mentioning me in your live streams because I fear I might find an angry mob in front of my house. “I think I have all your contact information anyway.”

There aren’t any more reactions coming from them. This seems like the best possible solution for all of you. You sigh again. This has been an emotionally draining evening. You can’t wait to get some fucking rest.

“I’ll be in touch with you or your managers soon. For now, let’s call it a day.”

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[wardenparker]

Bones Full of Words, ch 6

Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.

He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: sex work, time period appropriate sexism, cursing, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, fatphobia (sometimes internalized and sometimes not), canon typical violence* Fatphobia, internalized fatphobia, self-esteem issues. Flirting and talk of sex. We are starting to pine! Summary: Spending more time around Javi is as awkward as it is anything else, but spending some time with the girls has you approaching the situation a little differently after weeks of uncertainty. Notes: Introducing Elisa! Inner conflict, forced proximity, and a little soul searching are the name of the game.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5

Days tick by until it becomes weeks, and every apartment you look at is deemed either unsafe or unfit or otherwise unacceptable. The rent is too high or it doesn’t come furnished, or they don’t allow dogs. Señora Perrín had told you Chi-Chi couldn’t come to her son’s house because she generally hated men, and had said you should either keep her or bring her to a shelter.

It broke your heart that she could just give the precious guard dog up so easily and you’d been next to tears cuddling Chi-Chi on the living room floor when Javier came home from a stakeout. There was no discussion about it. Javier had just given the dog a half smile and said it was a damn good thing she liked him, because she was already settled.

On this particular morning you’re up before Javier which is incredible in and of itself. Sitting at the table with the local paper circling newspaper ads for apartments you haven’t already seen feels futile, but you have to keep trying.

Javi rolls his shoulders as he shuffles into the kitchen. He had been needing to start the coffee pot, but you’re already there, the pot full except for the cup at your elbow. “Morning.” He grunts, walking by the table and snatching up your already lit cigarette for a quick drag. You smoke the same ones he does and he’s never been shy about sharing a cigarette. “Fuck.” He groans, feeling the nicotine flooding his system. “Ran out last night.” He explains. You’re looking in the paper again and he almost asks why when it’s obvious you are settled here, but he doesn’t. You might want your own space and he doesn’t feel like it’s his place to press. You might share marks and have managed to be somewhat friendly to each other, but it hasn’t gone beyond that.

“Morning.” The ritual is usually the opposite, but he seems to adjust alright today. And today, like every other, you drag your eyes away from the sliver of tanned skin that shows at his waistline when he reaches up for a mug or to scratch the back of his neck like he does when he’s tired. “You wanna take the rest of my pack to work? I can pick more up from that corner store that stocks American while I’m apartment hunting.”

“I’ll stop on the way.” He shakes his head, pouring himself a cup of coffee and taking that first blessed sip, “Fuuuuuuuck.” He groans again in appreciation. “I don’t know how, but your coffee is always so good.”

“I refuse to give up my secret.” The pinch of cinnamon you add to the coffee grounds whenever you make a pot has turned out to be his unexpected favorite. It warms you deep in your chest with something you can’t name, but you always smile at the compliment. “There’s leftovers in the fridge if you want breakfast.” He rarely sticks around long enough in the mornings to eat anything freshly cooked, but at least he’s eating something.

“I don’t have time.” He admits. “Fucking overslept as it is.” He’s been pulling a lot of late nights, but he’s still been insisting on going in on time. Pablo getting fucking elected to office has lit a fire under his ass to prove the bastard is dirty.

It would be domestic — mothering, even — to suggest he take something with him so you swallow it off of the tip of your tongue. “Take my cigarettes, then,” you insist, putting the pack in his hand. Instead you offer something far less invasive. “Don’t waste the time stopping. I got my column in yesterday so I’m free as a bird to get more today.”

“Thanks.” He shoots you a grateful smile and nods as he takes another sip of the coffee before he checks his watch. “Shit.” He gulps down another mouthful and dumps the cup in the sink. “I’ll take care of that when I get home.” He’s noticed you’ve cleaned up when he’s too busy and he doesn’t want you to think you need to do that. “I’ve gotta go.”

“See you later.” Maybe tonight. Maybe not. Sometimes he runs into the apartment for something and then goes out again and you don’t see him until the next day. He doesn’t ever stop working, night and day.

He grabs his keys. “See you.” He manages before the phone in his pocket starts ringing. “Shit. Peña. Yeah, yeah I’m on my way.” He grunts as he closes the door and jogs down the hall towards the front of the building.

"Well girl..." Your eyes slide to the dog as she watches Javier leave, whining mournfully in her well-claimed spot on the living room rug. "Looks like it's just you and me again today. You wanna stretch out on my lap while I call landlords?"

******

The morning goes surprisingly well and there’s even time to meet Connie and one of her work friends for lunch at Steve’s insistence. “We could be working.” Javi grumbles as he lights up the last cigarette from the pack you had given him.

“It wouldn’t kill you to socialize once in a while,” Steve reminds him, nudging him toward whatever little place Connie and her friend had deemed appropriate for lunch.

“I socialize.” Javi snorts, even though he’s not once been to see the girls since you’ve unexpectedly moved in. It’s been limited to his hand in the shower every fucking night.

“When?” Steve grins, infinitely amused. “When you’re grumbling at paperwork in the office? When you’re sleeping? Are you even going to that brothel anymore? You don’t even leave the office at lunch like you used to.” He used to go to see the working girls on lunch break or after work. He knows it — they pretty much all unofficially know it. But not lately. He just doesn’t know what’s changed.

“Why are you so goddamn interested in where I stick my dick?” Javi cuts his eyes over at his partner before he yanks the door open and walks into the little restaurant. It’s annoying that Steve has clocked his habits and even more annoying that he’s noticed the change. He hasn’t told Steve about you. Neither you being his soulmate or living with him temporarily.

“Because you’re fuckin cranky when you don’t get any,” Steve mutters at his back, letting Peña bust past him into the place while he trails behind and snickers.

He rolls his eyes and pulls a chair out at a table. “You’re entirely too fucking cheerful.” He grumbles, wishing he had just told Steve he was working through lunch. He’s exhausted and honestly needs a day off.

“Just needed a little sunshine in my day,” the other man announces, beaming when he sees his own soulmate and wife walk through the door.

“Sunshine.” He huffs, crushing out a cigarette but immediately perking up when a very attractive brunette comes in behind Connie. Obviously an extra and Javi decides that a little flirting is exactly what he needs.

"Hey!" Connie Murphy comes breezing in with a smile on her face and a kiss for her husband. "Sorry I'm late, honey."

"Hey." Steve accepts the gesture of affection readily, taking both of her cheeks in his hands and pressing his lips to hers with a happy hum.

"Javier." When Connie stands up again at the table, she gestures to the brunette who came in in back of her. "This is my friend Elisa." To her friend, she explains: "Javier works with Steve."

Javi gets out of his chair and shakes her hand, enjoying how soft and warm it is. She's got a nice set of tits, and he's not feeling guilty about looking after he had that conversation with you. "Nice to meet you." He greets her and pulls out her chair for her as they both sit down.

"Are you another...janitor at the embassy? Like Steve?" Elisa asks, smirking slightly because that seems to be such a lame excuse.

"No, actually I'm CIA." Javi lies with a straight face. He glances at Steve. "But that's classified, so don't tell anybody."

The Murphys exchange expressions of raised eyebrows with each other and then with Javi, as if to tell him to cool it with the sarcasm. Somebody can and will overhear him and take him seriously.

Javi continues on. “I’m here to hunt communists and prevent the Marxist invasion from Cuba.” He’s lit another cigarette and holds it in his hand. “The janitor thing, that was you?” He asks Steve, who hums unhappily as Javi continues to talk. “No, that’s just a cover.” He tells her, taking a drag from his cigarette.

Elisa laughs, slightly unsure but willing to bet he's nearly telling the truth and that he's doing it in spite of the Murphys. She likes Connie, but the American woman is a little too earnest for her own good. "Thank you for being so honest," she says to Javier instead, and picks up on the overt honesty played like a lie tempo at the table. "Just so you know," she adds playfully. "I'm a communist guerrilla."

Javi laughs, along with Connie, and Steve gives a halfhearted smile. “Perfect.” Javi tells her with a wink.

"Yeah," Steve huffs, looking between the other two at the table before bringing his eyes back to his wife and nearly shrugging. It's obvious Elisa and Javi are on some kind of wavelength that he and Connie are not. "Perfect." He says the word but huffs it doubtfully.

Javi smirks at his partner, picking up on his mood but he doesn’t pay it any attention. “Tell me, how did you just start working at the clinic?” Javier asks Elise, as he looks over the menu. Catching sight of a meal that he thinks you would like since you like those falafel things and hating that he’s thinking about you right now.

"Everyone needs a job, don't they?" Elisa poses, acting like the answer doesn't quite matter when it truly doesn't. Not really anyway. Her work as a nurse is not the work she will be known for.

“That’s right.” Javi blows a ring of smoke up into the air and grins a Connie. He likes Murphy’s wife and it’s obvious that she’s the one that is the more outgoing of the two of them.

“So,” Connie poses, trying to brighten the mood at the table. “Lunch?”

“That sounds good.” Javi glances at the menu again and smirks at his partner. “Need some help?” He asks, knowing Steve’s reading comprehension of Spanish is worse than his speaking abilities.

“Shut up, Peña.” Steve mutters, grateful when Connie leans in to help him instead. His grasp of Spanish is growing, but at a snail’s pace.

Javi snickers quietly, feeling a little better after giving him some shit back after having to listen to Steve bring up soulmates every chance he gets. Thank god he hadn’t told him who his soulmate is, or that you are staying with him right now.

Connie ends up ordering for Steve despite his semi-valiant attempts at pronouncing the menu items, and the amusement at the table lifts the mood considerably. It’s not often any of them get to laugh anymore, and even a moment of it seems to relax everyone considerably.

“It’s good that you can meet us for lunch.” Javi tells them as they finish their sodas and wait for refills.

"I've got to see my soulmate sometimes," Connie teases lightly, leaning into Steve's side. "Dinners aren't a sure thing, so lunch seemed like the best time."

“And that means I get to eat.” Steve huffs, cutting his eyes back at Javi. His partner has a habit of living off coffee and cigarettes.

"Do you not eat?" Elisa asks Javier, curious that he seems to be getting the ire of his friends.

“Too busy working.” Javi shrugs one shoulder. “We grab something if there’s time.”

"Food is one of life's few pleasures." she returns, although she can think of quite a few other pleasures this man might be fun to indulge in with. "Pleasures are few and far between."

Javi takes another drag off his cigarette and grins at Elisa. “You’re right.” He admits.

"So why deny yourself?" She asks, nodding toward the direction their server is approaching from.

“Why indeed?” Javi thinks about you for a moment, before he pushes that out of his mind. You don’t want to do anything about your status so he shouldn’t worry about it.

"Yeah." Steve looks between the two of them with absolute incredulousness. "Why?" He really feels like he should be a reason but Javi won't say a goddamn word about his soulmate so he can't say too much.

Javi rolls his eyes and leans back as the server sets the meal down in front of you. “Hurry up.” He tells his partner. “We have to go meet Carillo after this.”

"Right." Steve snorts, ready to dig into his lunch right away. "No rest for the wicked."

“Never is.” Javi snorts and wishes he had a beer, or a glass of whiskey. When he left the apartment, you had still been asleep. He wonders what you are up to.

"Are you particularly wicked?" Elisa asks, partially for herself and partially because it amuses her to scandalize Connie with that type of question.

“Some might think so.” He admits, thinking about the question from an outsider’s point of view. “I’m flawed, but at the base of my life, I want to do good.”

That seems to surprise the other Americans at the table, but the Murphys choose not to tease – instead settling into their meal and deciding that a small amount of talk amongst themselves is more polite. Javier and Elisa seem to have slipped into a private conversation at the drop of a hat.

"Is that what you're doing?" She asks, picking up her fork and tilting her head toward the man beside her. Elisa didn't come here to flirt, but the man she has been introduced to is interesting and it won't be the worst thing in the world to chat him up for a half hour or more. "Doing good?"

“Some days it doesn’t seem that way.” Javi admits, eating his own food without really paying attention to it. “Not like health care.” More of what he does is unhealth care.

"Health care is...different than people expect it to be." Elisa tells him honestly. Not to mention that that is not the focus of her life. It was once, but not now. "Sometimes you wonder if you have done any good at all."

“I feel the same way.” He agrees, wondering if it’s that way everywhere, with any job. Maybe his pop was right and growing things was the answer all along.

"Maybe that's part of being human?" She wonders aloud, unconsciously echoing his thoughts.

“Who knew you could get philosophical over lunch?” Javi snorts, although he had actually excelled in philosophy in college.

She smiles, admittedly charmed, and she will have to confess later that Connie was right to warn her about her husband's partner. "I would have looked forward to this lunch even more if I had known."

He smirks slightly and glances over at the server as they refill his drink. Nodding his thanks before he looks back at her. “Well, now you can look forward to the next one.”

“I definitely will.” Elisa agrees, and the smile on her lips promises that she hopes to be looking forward to much more than that.

******

When a familiar car pulls up down the block, Freckles is the one that recognizes it. “Holy shit.” She huffs, turning towards the room where Helena and Vanessa are lounging. Helena hasn’t been taking clients, but she had been here to pack. Gathering all the things that she wanted and giving away the things she didn’t. “She’s here.”

“Who?” Helena asks, her attention to focused on carefully braiding Vanessa’s wet hair to achieve some natural waves after it dries. A new style she wanted to try.

She says your name, lifting a brow as she looks at the other two women. “I wonder if she’s just here for a follow up interview for an article.”

“Can’t be for us…” Helena’s head pops up immediately. She knows that you are their friend, but it would be a simple enough thing to see them outside of a professional setting if you just wanted to spend time with friends. “Can it?”

“I don’t know.” Vanessa frowns slightly. “She wasn’t happy with us knowing about her and Javier. She didn’t say it, but she wasn’t.”

“You think she came because she’s mad at us?” Freckles asks, frowning at the thought.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think she will yell at us, if that’s what you’re thinking.” The other woman shrugs. “Maybe she’s tired of Javi.” She snorts. “She does like eating pussy.”

“You think they’re fucking already?” Helena asks, frowning doubtfully. “They seemed…at odds with each other.”

“I didn’t mean they were fucking.” She corrects. “Just tired of him. Isn’t she staying with him since her apartment was raided?”

“Yeah.” Helena nods, shifting up from the couch to peak through the window. You’re just out of sight so you must be on your way in. “With the sweetest dog.”

“Javier has a dog in his apartment?” Freckles finds that hilarious and throws her head back laughing. “How domestic.”

“You know the guard dog?” Helena and Vanessa laugh along with her. They have, at various points now, all been to your apartment. “The sweet girl who sits at the top of the stairs? She is with them now.”

“But doesn’t she hate men?” Her eyes widen for a moment before she giggles again. “I can’t see Javi sneaking around his own apartment.”

“I can’t imagine he’s hiding from both of them.” Freckles shrugs. “Maybe that’s why she’s here. Like you said.”

"We will see." Helena knows that even if you are upset, you wouldn't take it out on them. You weren't that way, more of a defender than an abuser.

The knock on the door comes a moment later, but the door doesn’t open immediately. Unlike other clients, you have always been respectful of their privacy.

Freckles wanders over to the door and opens it, smiling brightly when she sees you and pulls you in for a hug. "It is good to see you!"

You came here with a purpose. You did. But seeing the three of them together — stunning women who know you far too well — seems to spook you out of your resolve. “H—hi,” you murmur instead, kissing her cheek and giving her a gentle squeeze back. Not too tight. Not too close.

"Come in." She offers immediately, stepping back and opening the door wider. "Unless you are here to just see one of us?" She asks curiously, wondering if it is simply the business of pleasure that brings you here.

“I wasn't sure who would be here.” It feels like more of a confession than you meant it to, but there’s nothing you can do about that now.

“Okay.” Freckles glances over at the other two. “We can leave if you want to talk to Helena?” She offers.

"No–no, I..." You deflate a little, realizing that you're far less sure of this plan than you thought you were while driving here. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have come."

Vanessa frowns and shakes her head even though Helena is still working on it. “Don’t be silly.” She chides. “You are always welcomed here.”

"I don't want to intrude." Also, you somehow forgot about the full-length mirror in the corner of the room, which has your own reflection staring back at you in ways you would rather avoid.

“Why would you be intruding?” For a moment, Freckles wants to ask if you were checking to see if Javier is here, or has been here, but she doesn’t. You do seem upset, but not at them.

"I don't know." And that is all the more confusing, which brings you from flustered and embarrassed to emotional all at once. A single chin wobble feels like six with the hyperaware state you're in right now and you look around at three pairs of beautiful eyes that only make you feel all the more ridiculous. "I'm sorry, I...I'm not feeling well, I guess." You turn to go, ready to haul ass and hide yourself in Chi-Chi's fur and try to blot out the world, but Helena has gotten up to block the way in a flash.

“Stay.” She urges you, reaching out and taking your shoulders in her hands to physically turn you back towards the room. “Please.”

"I haven't...been myself lately," you admit, looking around at the three of them again.

“Because of what we told you?” Helena frowns, feeling guilty as she guides you over to the bed.

"Not...directly?" She has you sit down, and the other two girls come to sit on the bed with you, gathered around you as if you were all simply here to gossip instead of you having found yourself in the middle of an existential crisis. "It's a long story."

“If you don’t want to talk…” Vanessa senses that you are pent up and she puts her hand on your thigh. “We can always find other ways to entertain ourselves until you do want to talk.”

“I’m not going to make you do that anymore.” The realization, swift and certain, makes you swallow the lump you hadn’t sensed forming in your throat. Coming here may have been a very bad idea, actually… “I—I mean…I thought that’s what I wanted. And why I came. But I don’t think so anymore.”

Helena reaches out and touches your cheek gently. “Javier?” She asks softly, aware that you might be feeling guilty. “He hasn’t come to see us either. If that’s what you want to know.”

"It doesn't have anything to do with Javier." As soon as it's out of your mouth – defensive and swift – you flinch and shake your head. "It doesn't have to do with him being...what he is to me, I mean."

“Oh.” The girls exchange looks but don’t say anything. There’s obviously something wrong, but they won’t push you if you don’t want to talk. They just wait.

It all comes pouring out in the face of their solid sympathy. The fights you and Javier had in the beginning, everything Alex said. The way every passing week that you live with Javier has you convinced that the universe must have been wrong. That you have stopped being able to even glance past a mirror on any sort of daily basis for fear of what you will find staring back at you. "I thought I was just lonely," you admit, under the gaze of three sets of worried eyes. "I thought I just needed to find some company to feel better again. But I walked through your door and just felt like I would be demeaning any of you by asking you to take me to bed."

Helena frowns and Vanessa and Freckles shake their heads in disagreement. “Do you think that we just fuck you because you pay us?” Freckles asks, folding her arms over her chest. “Because we don’t. We enjoy our time with you. In and out of bed.”

"I'm not thinking straight right now." The wording is unfortunate, but at least it's honest. "I don't really trust my own perspective. So while I know, deeply, because you're my friends, that you've never lied to me about enjoying yourself. I just can't..." Searching for the words has you huffing and shaking your head all over again. "I can't believe it or understand it."

“Because of what that bitch said about you?” Vanessa looks mad enough to spit nails. The fight that had been instigated to defend your honor hadn’t made you feel better and the words that you had learned were said about you had cut deep.

"This is...let's call it a lifelong problem." Sitting back against the pillows on the bed, you just drop your face into your hands and sigh. "I'm sorry to have dumped all of this on the three of you. Really."

“After what you have done for us?” Helena rolls her eyes and grabs a pack of cigarettes to offer you one. “You’re crazy.”

"Probably." You admit, letting out a half-laugh and accepting a cigarette.

“He was wrong.” Freckles tells you. “There is nothing wrong with you.” She promises. “You are soft and gorgeous. Warm and sensuous.”

"It's hard to see any kind of truth through my own doubt." Inhaling fire and exhaling smoke is such a seemingly small ritual, but it centers you in a way that you need right now. Like maybe if you had had just sat down and had a cigarette or two or three, you might not have had to bare your soul to these three kind women. To your friends – you have to remember that point. These are your friends. "I don't know if there is any truth. Looks and attraction and all of that...it's all subjective anyway."

“It is subjective.” That all the women can agree on. “My first love, he was ugly by any standards.” Freckles snorts. “But I fucked his brains out every chance I got.”

“You loved him,” you point out, shrugging your shoulders helplessly. “That makes all the difference.”

“And you don’t love Javier.” She murmurs, bewildered by the idea that you might not even be attracted to your soulmate. She reaches over and takes your hand. “Not all soulmates are sexual.” She reminds you. “Javi would never force you.”

“I barely know Javier.” It feels like an entirely lame defense, but it’s true. And besides which you’re not even sure why you feel the need to defend yourself at all. But you do.

“I thought you were staying at his apartment?” Vanessa looks surprised by the fact you haven’t gotten close to him.

“I am.” It’s been nearly impossible to find a place that will let you keep Chi-Chi that you can afford and is reasonably safe, and you have just ended up there indefinitely. “But it isn’t as though we sit around the kitchen cooking meals together and having some sort of domestic fantasy.”

“So you avoid each other?” Helena frowns, not liking that at all. Javier needs a connection with someone, he is dangerously close to burnout and making mistakes and the physicality has been removed, so the emotional was definitely needed. Unless he had found comfort somewhere else.

“Not actively. I mean I sit in the living room reading at night and sometimes he’s home. We both just work constantly.” Shrugging just feels even more pathetic now but you’re not sure what else to do. “We just…don’t talk a lot when the two of us are there.”

"You are both so alike it's almost scary." Vanessa sighs softly and shakes her head.

“Stubborn and frustrating?” You guess, huffing out a half-laugh.

"YES!" All three women laugh when they answer at the same time.

The suddenness of it startles a chuckle out of you, until all four of you are laughing in a heap on the bed together. “This is what I needed,” you sigh, breathing through another laugh as Freckles hugs you to her side. “To see my friends.”

“Why don’t you fuck Javi?” She suggests playfully. “He will have you feeling good.”

“I walked in here so insecure I couldn’t even kiss any of you.” You remind them gently. “I don’t know that I’m in a place to be fucking anyone.”

"What has made you so insecure?" Helena demands, hating that you would feel that way. "Explain it to me."

You all but huff at her, feeling your shoulders round all over again. “Is being called a whale not enough?”

She frowns, reaching out and lifting your chin. "You – the woman who fought to come to Colombia, who was angry that your bosses would not let you go undercover in a brothel – let a tiny dicked man who never made you cum think badly about yourself?" She asks furiously, although her tone is softly censuring. "When your soulmate was so enraged on your behalf that he started a fight for your honor?"

The other girls murmur their agreement, but you feel all the more sheepish at having it put like that. “You make it sound very romantic.”

“It kind of is romantic.” She grins. “Especially knowing that Javier looks very sexy when he’s angry.”

"If you like him when he's angry, you'd probably be amused as hell at how we fight." It's been a week or so since the last time you argued, but the fights are fewer and farther between now, as well as shorter. Last time it had been as stupid and domestic as you getting annoyed about the schedule you worked out for feeding the dog.

“What could you possibly fight about when you barely talk?” Vanessa asks.

"Stupid things."

"You fight because you don't talk." Helena points out. And knowing you both as well as she does, she has it right on the money.

“Why don’t you do something together?” Freckles suggests. “Watch a movie?”

It's such a small, simple thing. A movie. Not a date, not a spectacle. Just a stupid, normal little movie on tv while you sit on the couch. It's...oddly appealing, actually. But you're still unsure. "Does he ever sit still long enough for something like that?"

“I’m sure you could convince him to.” Helena smirks, although she’s convinced Javier is only still when he’s asleep, or on a stakeout.

"You're all so very certain that I could get him to do anything I wanted." It's frustrating in a completely different way. Because you simply can't see how or why they believe it.

“Javi wants a connection with someone.” Vanessa hums. “Even if he won’t admit it. Even if he fights it.”

"Something else I guess we have in common, then." They know you too well for you to pretend otherwise. They know your tendency to run. To hide. To push away emotional connections. Even Alex had been kept at arm's length, but had managed to crack away at that deep desire for affection enough to hurt you with it. The bastard.

“We told you that you are the exact same.” Freckles rolls her eyes and leans in to press her lips to yours playfully with a smack.

"Apparently so." The gesture is received with gratitude, even if your heart feels a little heavier as you start to really believe what your friends have been telling you. "I'm not sure there is anything to do about it, though."

“Why?” Helena asks, wondering what could be so monumental to keep soulmates from being together.

"We sort of talked about it. The first night I stayed with him. When my building was raided." And the number of times you have gone back over it in your head since then is positively shameful. "He pretty much said he's not interested in being together. So it's all...moot. I guess."

“This was after your argument over me?” Helena asks, tsking when you nod. “The first strike.” She whispers to the other girls and they groan and nod in agreement.

"What do you mean 'strike'?" You ask, frowning.

“He rejected you before you could reject him.” She sighs. “Stupid bastard.”

"Alright, well..." Somehow that hurts far worse than you could have predicted, and you lean back in the pillows with a frown, crossing your arms over your chest. "It's still a rejection."

Vanessa huffs and throws up her hands. “Both of you, stubborn!” She hisses. “You would have done the same and you know it. You are two sides to the same mirror.”

"So what am I supposed to do about it, then?" You hiss back, feeling stung and stuck and just a tad insulted to boot. "Beg him to reconsider? Seduce him? Plead with my soulmate to give me another chance? Fuck that."

“One of you will have to bend.” Helena sighs. “It will just be a matter of who.”

"Now you see why I'm so frustrated." So frustrated that you could not see the light for all the dark around you. But your friends have helped that more than you expected.

“I am surprised Javi let you live with him.” Freckles admits. “He has never lived with anyone.”

"He feels guilty." At least that's what you assumed. It probably doesn't do any good to assume, but that is what you've done. "Because it was his team that raided my building."

“And he could have found you a place to live inside of an hour.” Vanessa snorts.

"I've been looking for weeks," you remind her, sheepish and embarrassed that it has taken you so long.

“Javier has been here for years.” She reminds you. “How do you think he got such an amazing apartment?”

"I can't figure out if you're implying that he's letting me look fruitlessly or that he's actively sabotaging my attempts to find somewhere else to live." Either one is deeply confusing and has complicated connotations, and you're not entirely sure what to do about it.

“That’s something you will have to ask him about.” All three women shrug and give you unsure looks.

“Full, meaningful conversation, huh?” You sigh, knowing they’re right. “That’s probably the respectful thing to do.”

“You do what you need to do.” Freckles tells you. “Only you and Javier can determine what happens. Not anyone else.”

“I’d much rather have it just all work itself out for us,” you admit, though the complaint is half-hearted. Having something handed to you means it’s never quite as satisfactory or as lasting.

Helena snorts and leans against you playfully. “You can do that.” She admits. “It will be an interesting journey.”

******

You’re still trying to figure out what the hell kind of journey could possibly be ahead of you when Javier comes home that night. It’s earlier than usual but still not what any normal person would call early. Thankfully you’re both night owls, so you’re in the process of making some dinner when the door opens. Having managed to track down an Italian market in an immigrant community in Bogotá during your first weeks there, you continue to make the pilgrimage whenever you need to stock up on ingredients.

Tonight you wanted comfort food — chunks of beef slowly stewed with onions, garlic, mushrooms, and carrots in tomatoes and red wine. The whole thing will be ladled over creamy, cheesy polenta and you can’t wait. These recipes your father taught you still mean everything to you as a grown woman.

He smells the food from the hallway. Different than the normal scents of cooking from other apartments and yet it is just as mouthwatering. He comes into the door and groans quietly. “I’m back.” He calls out politely.

“You’re home early.” It’s just an observation, but it feels so incredibly domestic in your current setting. “I got a little nostalgic and made a ton of food. Do you like Italian?”

“Love it.” Javi admits. “We had this little place in Laredo that did the little tea candles on the table. Best damn lasagna I’ve ever had.”

“Lasagna is one of my ultimate comfort meals.” And it sticks somewhere in your head that you’ll have to make it for him sometime. Cooking is soothing for you, after all. And an excellent way to say thank you for letting me live in your apartment and refusing to take my rent money every time I offer. “This is my dad’s version of Italian beef stew with polenta.”

He makes an impressed face and nods. “Sounds good. Do I have time for a shower?” He asks, feeling sticky and wanting to wash away the filth of the day.

"Yeah, absolutely." It's suddenly become a whole to-do, this comfort dinner of yours, but you nod. Somehow it's so much easier to see how handsome he is tonight. Like talking with the girls today had softened some of the sharp edges you had imagined before. "We could...turn on a movie while we eat? If you want to?"

He looks over at you in surprise, but your back is to him, stirring the pot at the stove furiously. Either the stew is temperamental or you are avoiding looking at him. “That sounds good.” He admits. “Cabinet under the tv has some tapes.” He tells you. “A few movies my pop sent me.”

"Okay." Stirring the polenta is just a way to distract yourself so he doesn't catch you staring at him, but that's alright. It needs to be stirred anyway. "I'll pick something out and set it up."

“Okay, uh, I’ll just jump in the shower then.” He mumbles, feeling slightly out of sorts now that you’ve agreed to this. It feels intimate, domestic, like an evening at home between soulmates would be.

"Okay." Repeating the word feels awkward, but you try to dismiss the feeling as nerves or tension. Everything is totally fine. It's just a meal. You've eaten together plenty of times before.

Heading back to his room, his movements are completely in autopilot. Unclipping his badge and gun from his hip, setting them down in his dresser and emptying his pockets. Memories of his parents sitting on the old flowered sofa in their living room watching a movie or tv show when he was younger springs to mind. Peeking around the corner from the kitchen and listening to his mother giggle quietly and seeing them kiss before he scurried back to his room.

By the time he comes back out again, you have dinner set up in bowls, two glasses of wine poured from what was left in the bottle, and his well-loved copy of Raiders of the Lost Ark in the VCR. "Bad day?" You ask, trying to be as casual and normal as possible when you catch the moody expression on his face. You probably haven't hit it at all, but you're trying.

“Every day I don’t catch that bastard is a bad day.” Javi snorts and shakes his head. “It’s frustrating. Feeling like we are just spinning our wheels again.”

"I refuse to believe you got nothing done today." He's too clever and too dedicated for that, but you won't belabor the point. "Anyway, it's late and there's not much you can do for the rest of tonight. But dinner is hot and there's booze."

That sounds fucking amazing and Javi groans in appreciation. “You didn’t have to do all this.” He reminds you, gesturing to the meal set out on the coffee table.

"I thought it would be nice." Technically speaking, you didn't make this meal for him. It is a comfort for you with the added side benefit of there being plenty to share with him. But there is something in his voice that stops you from saying so.

Javi sits down and then second guesses himself. “Do you want to sit here?” He asks, getting back up.

"Sit wherever you want." He's nervous and you're trying not to let it put you on edge too. This was just a spur of the moment idea that seemed like a nice way to spend the night. "It is your couch."

He snorts and shrugs. “I don’t care where I sit, but you might have claimed a certain corner as your own.” He jokes.

"Normally that's just whatever corner Chi-Chi has left for me when she sprawls out over the entire couch." You joke. He had let her up on his furniture on day two of having the two of you in his place and she never looked back.

“I feel like she would take up all the space if you gave her half a chance. Even a king-sized bed.” He rolls his eyes and looks over at the dog that is currently sprawled over the floor.

"Oh, believe me." With your bowls and wine sitting on the coffee table, you come closer and sit down in the corner of the couch that he isn't occupying. "Half the time when I crawl into bed at night, she's sprawled out over the entire mattress. So I have no trouble imagining she would take up a king if she can dominate my full size."

Javi frowns. “Then we should get you a bigger bed.” He hadn’t really thought much about the size of the bed in the guest room. It was just there for someone to sleep if needed and until Helena and you, it had never been used.

"You don't..." You had been reaching for your wine glass when he said it and you almost knock it over by accident. "You don't have to do that. I mean...it's your apartment. I'm just staying here through the seemingly interminable search for an apartment. I really can't figure out why it's so damn hard to find a place this time around."

Javi hums and doesn’t comment on that. Instead, he reaches for his own wine glass. “You’ll find one eventually.” He finally says.

"Eventually." The girls' words float through your mind again, and you glance at him out of the corner of your eye as you pick up your glass more securely. "You know...you've been here longer than me. I'm surprised you don't know anyone looking for a tenant."

His eyes slide he to you and then back to the tv where the beginning of the movie is finally starting after the commercials. “I’ve been keeping an ear out for something that would be good for you.” He tells you vaguely.

"Yeah?" Deciding to play the cards you have, you take a sip of your wine and then set the glass down to pick up your bowl. Dinner smells amazing and it's finally going to be cool enough to eat without burning yourself. "The girls seem to think you wouldn't have had any trouble. And that you might not mind having me around."

Javi nearly drops his spoon, hissing a curse and bobbles it for a second before catching it. “Yeah?” He turns to purse his lips at you grumpily. “The girls don’t know everything, do they?”

"Hey," you shrug, playing it off like you aren't fishing for information but giving something up instead. "I thought it was kind of nice that they thought that. Like we might actually be getting used to each other."

He relaxed slightly and turns back to towards the tv and his stew. “You don’t annoy me as much as you first did.” He snorts. “And you cook.”

"So it's purely functional." It's just light teasing, because you're not really questioning him or calling him out. It's just...nice to hear the good humor in his voice. "Maybe...you would let me pay rent in groceries and cooking? Instead of cash?"

“You don’t have to pay rent.” He huffs out, rolling his eyes as you bring up the idea yet again. “I would have to rent this place even if you didn’t sleep in that room.” He points out again. “And the electricity and water are included. It costs me nothing.”

Your hand, spoon and all, stop halfway to your mouth. "You...don't pay rent? Like at all?"

That wasn’t what he said, but he shrugs. “Technically? No.” He admits. “DEA pays for it. And it’s under the set amount they give us. So I make money every month.”

"Well shit..." The fact that you misunderstood him at first doesn't change the meaning of the thing. His housing stipend more than covers the cost of the space you have both been living in. You almost sputter around the fact, but end up biting your lip and shrugging exaggeratedly. "Fine. I'll just cook because I like to and because we both need to eat." Looking over at him though, your head tilts unconsciously. "But...maybe it would be okay if I stop looking for a different place?"

Even though he’s honestly relieved that you are voicing that, Javi jolts one shoulder up in the air casually, as if it doesn’t matter to him. “Up to you.” He grunts as he spoons up a first bite of the stew and polenta. “If you’re comfortable here.”

“Chi-Chi is.” You nod toward the enormous sprawl of an animal nearby. She’s found a corner of rug and isn’t giving it up for anything. “I guess that settles it.” As if the dog’s comfort and happiness were the only factor, you simply start eating, turning your attention to the screen with a smile curling your lips.

It’s probably the first thing that you’ve not argued with him about and he grunts, wondering if it’s because you feel safer here, or if the fact that he had spread word that the American woman looking for an apartment was important to the DEA had scared people off. He doesn’t regret it at all. Eventually someone would know about your connection to him, and he didn’t want that used and you to be harmed.

It’s several minutes later when you laugh to yourself during the movie that you realize how simultaneously comfortable and tense you are here these days. And that the tension isn’t the walking on eggshells kind of tension you’ve had with other people in the past. But something almost eager. Like it’s on the verge of actually being pleasurable. But that might just be the soulmate bond talking. Either way, you go on eating and smiling to yourself, wondering if he feels it too or if you’re just too convinced by what the girls had to say today.

Hearing you snort in amusement; Javi looks over at you to find you grinning. “Have a think for this guy?” He asks with a smirk, nodding towards the tv. Most of the office girls in the typing pool swoon over Harrison Ford.

“Who doesn’t?” You counter, unashamed to admit to it. “Just like every other woman my age, right? Every guy I know is in love with Michelle Pfeiffer. It’s the same deal.”

He chuckles and shrugs. “She’s alright.” He answers. “I don’t really fantasize about women who wouldn’t even know my name.” He admits. “I like the ones I’ve got a chance with.”

“Fantasizing is an integral part of my day to day,” you tell him, glancing away from the screen to see if he’s looking at you. You can’t tell if you’re hoping for it or not, but you’re curious.

He watches you turn your head and look into his eyes. His curiosity getting the best of him. “And what do you fantasize about?” His voice is suddenly raspier, dropping into a lower, more intimate pitch.

“I—” You hadn’t meant it like that. In fact you’d barely thought about what you were saying when you said it. But now that he’s asked? The coil in your guts tightens and you swallow thickly. “Lots of things.” The truth sparks from you like wildfire. “W—waking up wrapped in someone…those little touches that are electric with someone new…the whole, uh…the whole…work surprise thing…”

“Work surprise?” He frowns slightly. “Like fucking in the broom closet?” He asks, trying to understand you a bit better even if this is more than he ever thought he would know. You aren’t interested in him, but he’s curious.

“Not what I was thinking.” You laugh, though, trying not to pay attention to the way your skin tingles in response to the idea of him dragging you into a closet for anything remotely sexual. “I was thinking more like…the romance of a surprise. My mom used to make excuses to go surprise my dad at work every single week. Just because she knew how hard he worked, and she wanted there to always be something to look forward to on the hardest days.”

“Your mom would go to your dad’s work to fuck him?” He remembers that your dad was a chef and he chuckles. “I heard some kinky shit happens in a kitchen.”

“I mean…” The realization is striking, that that probably is exactly what was happening, and you sputter for a few seconds out of sheer surprise. “She always told us she was just going to spend his breaks with him, but…probably.”

He laughs quietly, watching the realization rush over your face. “It’s always weird to think about your parents fucking.” He reaches over and pats your thigh. “It’s okay.”

“She just always made it sound very romantic,” you admit, dissolving into laughter.

“Fucking can be romantic.” He chuckles. “And romance can be a passionate quickie.” He snorts, ���My parents probably used the hay loft more than I did.”

“See, stripping down in a hayloft to roll around on a blanket does sound romantic.” Or maybe you just have a little bit of a cowboy kink. Who knows? “A restaurant stock room? Not so much.”

He smirks as he shrugs. “Depends on what gets you going.” He argues playfully. “Maybe mayonnaise did it for them.”

“Gross.” But you’re still laughing, the movie forgotten in the background and your dinner sitting in your lap. “I can readily say mayonnaise does not get me going.”

He chuckles as he spoons up another bite of the meal. He almost tells you that he will note that, but you might not want him to do that. “Oh I love this part.” He snorts as he catches sight of the movie again.

Indy’s exploits suddenly seem less interesting to you, but you watch the movie and continue to eat with an undeniable warmth building in your chest.

The problem is that Javi wants to keep talking to you, but he also doesn’t want you to think that all he wants to talk to you about is sex. It’s frankly surprising to a man who enjoys sex and women as much as he does, but sex with you seems to be about as obtainable as climbing Mt. Everest.

“I always wanted to be Marion Ravenwood when I was a teenager…” It comes out as just a little murmur, but it’s true. Marion had been one of your favorite role models. “Her or Lois Lane.”

“She was always way too good for Indy.” Javi points at the screen with his spoon as he reaches for his wine with the other hand. “But I’m sure Lois speaks to you more because of that journalism connection.”

“She’s the one I went with in the end, I guess.” The comment that Marion is too good for Indy makes you glance over at him again and consider. He has that whole dashing-and-daring thing that Indy does —would he think a Marion was too good for him too?

“You’ve got a little bit of Marion in there too.” Javi tells you as he sits back with his wine and takes another sip. It’s pretty damn good with the meal. “Digging for a story down here is kind of like digging for the fucking Arc.” He huffs, halfway grinning.

“I’ve got Marion from plenty of things.” You shrug your shoulders. “Stubborn, persistent, cocky at the wrong times and wildly insecure at others. Plus the drinking.”

“Insecure?” He frowns. “Why? You’re a ball buster. You shouldn’t have an insecure bone in your body.”

“Seriously?” You almost slip and call him Javi, even though you’ve never called him anything but Javier in the whole time you’ve known him. The girls all call him Javi and it feels so intimate. “It’s a total front.”

"It's a good one." He admits. "When you want to exude confidence, you do." He hums to himself as he picks up his bowl again. "You'd make a hell of an actress if it's a front."

“I grew up with older brothers,” you remind him. “You learn to at least pretend to have a spine, or you end up trampled. In my case, I was then stupid enough to go into journalism. So it’s just more men everywhere, and these ones all want me to fail miserably.” Shrugging again, you put down your empty bowl and reach for your wine glass. “Maybe some of it stuck, I don’t know.”

"I don't fucking understand that." Javi shakes his head. "Yeah, there are certain jobs I don't like seeing a woman in. Ones where they are in danger, but that's my own bullshit and I would never want someone to fail."

“Then you were raised with a hell of a lot more respect than any of my colleagues.” There’s nothing really to do about it but keep your head down and keep fighting, so you just wave one hand as if it doesn’t matter. “Which is a comfort, by the way.”

"You don't watch a woman run a ranch, which is fucking hard work, while her husband is in the hospital and not realize that there isn't a whole hell of a lot women can't do." Javi might be old fashioned in some sense, but he had also been raised by a tough woman.

“Cheers to your mother, then.” You raise your glass to that without hesitation. “She sounds like she was a bad ass.”

"She was." He chuckles and lifts his drink in a toast to her. "Just like I'm sure your father was a hell of a man."

“Wherever they are, I’m sure they’re watching us and laughing together.” Tapping your glass against his, the clink rings out, and you share that drink to your parents with pride.

He shakes his head, knowing that his mama is laughing for certain. “She always warned me I would find someone who wouldn’t put up with me just because I was charming.”

“She wanted somebody who saw you for you.” That’s an admirable thing for a parent. For anyone to want for their loved one. “My Dad always said I’d find someone who wouldn’t put up with me talking shit about myself.” He actually said that your soulmate would be that person, but you won’t put that on Javier.

“You shouldn’t talk shit about yourself.” Javi agrees with that. “You have the power in any situation romantically.”

"Absolutely not." The very idea of it earns him a snort from you, and you practically drain your glass to keep from laughing out loud. "That is so far from the truth."

“Why do you think that’s not true?” He asks, curious to hear this answer.

"Because," you reason, finding that last sip of wine and putting your glass back down on the coffee table. "If I had any kind of upper hand, I wouldn't have spent most of my romantic life, I wouldn't have had to settle for weasels that I basically had to beg for attention."

“You have a pussy.” Javi reminds you. “And a nice set of tits and ass.” He rolls his eyes. “If you put your mind to it, you could have all those weasels begging you for attention.”

"That's...not really how it works for girls like me." At least, not in your experience. Or the experience of most other women your size that you've known throughout your life. It makes you lips turn down in a frown and you shift slightly in your place on the couch.

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Javi frowns when he sees you pull in on yourself and turns back to his bowl. “I’m sorry.”

"No." Breathing out, you shake your head again and wipe your hands on your jeans. "No, my shitty self-esteem is not your responsibility. Sorry. Please don't let it ruin tonight."

“It’s not ruining the night.” Javi promises you. “I just didn’t want to make you feel bad.”

"You aren't." You assure him quickly. "I just...I guess I wish it was true. That it was just that easy."

“Just don’t let anyone give you shit.” He tells you. “You are a good girl.”

"Careful." Before you can stop yourself, the joking ball buster comes out of you all over again. "I might like being praised a little more than other girls."

He stares at you a moment before he snorts and shakes his head. “That’s the kind of attitude you should have.”

"Shameless vampy flirt?" You ask, with one eyebrow raised.

“Vampy?” He lifts a brow of his own in challenge.

Competitive. Your teachers and your brothers and your parents and everyone else in your childhood had always called you competitive. Not in the athletic sort of way. But in the way where you could never back down from a challenge. Almost instantly you're tossing the collar of your sweatshirt off your shoulder and batting your eyelashes, shaping your lips into a pout. "Is that what does it for you? Vampy?"

His cock twitches violently and if you weren’t who you are, he would be on you in a second. Taking you up on the invitation in that look. But you aren’t looking for him to jump you. “Maybe.” He manages, trying to not let it seem like it’s taking everything he had in him to act normal.

Something changes. Something in his eyes flashes. He tenses. Something in the moment reacts so assuredly that your heart speeds up and you unconsciously lick your lips, tongue darting out to wet them like some sort of silent and unintentional test to see if he's watching you as carefully and with as devoted focus as you're watching him. If you – when did you get to this place and why didn't you notice before? – actually want to kiss him as badly as you think you do in this moment.

Javi practically dumps the bowl onto the coffee table as he stands up. You licking your lips bothering him so much he has to move. “Gotta pee.” He explains. “Keep watching the movie.”

"I—uh—" He seems to panic and it deflates you instantly, to the point where all you can do is sputter and shrink back in your seat, shoving your stupid sweater back up on your stupid shoulder. "Right. Okay."

Javi does have to pee, but it takes a moment to get the half chub he has going on to go down. “She’s fucking teasing you.” He reminds himself. “Don’t fucking touch her. Just don’t.”

He was just fucking tease you. You reprimand yourself over and over, trying to get yourself under control before he comes back. Before you give yourself away. Before you have to admit to anyone but yourself that you actually had been hoping that he would take you up on the offer. Calm the fuck down!

After a few minutes, Javi slowly walks back down the hall. “Want a beer?” He asks, hovering between the kitchen and the living room. “Water?”

"Water is fine." More alcohol is probably a bad idea. You don't want to get tipsy and do something that will make things awkward again. "Thank you."

“Welcome.” He gets two glasses of water, figuring he better lay off the booze himself. He’s changed the mood and he doesn’t know how to go back to that somewhat easy vibe but he knows more alcohol won’t help.

With a little less than half the movie left, he brings back two glasses of water and you thank him for your again as he settles back down on the couch. Chi-Chi had barely stirred while he was gone but now she shifts, getting up from her corner of rug to move over four feet and flop down in front of the sofa as if she means to tell you that neither of you is allowed to get up again.

Javi snorts to himself and tries to watch the movie again, spreading his arm across the back of the couch towards you. Legs splayed a little to be comfortable and he takes a sip of his water, “Want a cigarette?”

"Sure. Thanks." You've gotten into the habit of sharing packs while you're in the apartment together so this, at least, is relatively normal. Or at least as normal as the two of you are bound to get.

Sharing a cigarette is normal. He reaches for the pack and puts one in his mouth and flicks the lighter. Taking a drag off the smoke before handing it to you.

It's such a little motion, and so practical, but after that moment of flirtation where you could have sworn you saw attraction in his eyes, it feels so intimate to smoke from a cigarette that was just held by his lips. Like if you try hard enough you could taste him instead.

Shit. You really have to stop thinking like this...

Javi leans back and sighs softly. “Needed that.” He admits. “Need to fucking quit, but I’m already cutting back on other things.”

“I keep thinking I should quit,” you admit, but take another drag when he passes it back to you. “But I never do.”

“Stress.” Javi snorts. “Addiction. Habit. Who knows?” He looks at it seriously and then takes another drag. “Smoking a cigarette is more satisfying than chewing some fucking gum.”

“I honestly don’t even like gum that much.” It’s stupid, that little insignificant piece of trivia about yourself, but you feel like you’ve made some tiny bit of headway tonight. At the very least, if you’re going to be roommates for a while, sharing things seems easier than expecting him to read your mind.

“It’s okay.” He doesn’t mind it, but the burn of the nicotine in his chest is what he really wants. “But it doesn’t beat this.” He hands the cigarette back to you, noticing the filter is stained with the last bits of wine from one of your lips, resembling lipstick.

You both silently realize it about the same time, and the smile tugging at your lips grows ever so slightly in silent response. Acts of connection, no matter how small, are making you happy tonight.

“Got another carton in the car.” Javi tells you. “I’ll bring them in before I leave in the morning.”

“Thank you. It’s so much easier than high-tailing it across the city to that American market near my old place.” You’re learning his neighborhood— your neighborhood— little by little. It will be good to put it more of an effort now. Since you’re officially staying put.

“Yeah.” Javi frowns slightly. “Be careful if you go back over on that side of town.” He tells you. “Escobar wasn’t happy about his sicarios.”

“Shit…” You wipe one hand down your face and sigh. “Inez found a new place in that same neighborhood. I’ll have to tell her to watch out.”

“Yeah.” He knows you still talk to the bartender from the club you lived under. She was also your neighbor. “Let her know.”

“Thanks, Javi.” It slips this time, just a nickname. Just a small act of intimacy. But it slips without you even realizing it.

He hears the softness of his nickname on your tongue. Making him want to reach out. To pull you closer to him, but he doesn’t. You two are in this awkward, yet comforting place and he doesn’t want to rock the boat. “You’re welcome.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

BFoW: @haileymorelikestupid @theorganasolo @missladym1981 @alexiamargot06 @southernbe

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Hello!! How are you?? I'm sorry for the difficult week... and thank you very much for answering me, I'm simply delighted! And don't worry, your writing hasn't been affected, it's still great! If she hasn't gotten better! And I'm glad you like the requests... I think they're silly🥹

But get better! And if you don't mind, I have one more request🤭 I imagine something where maybe Rhys went out and left the reader at home, but maybe, some of the boys, Cass or Az, stayed at the house, and they didn't know they weren't alone , so what, they end up attacking the reader thinking she is an enemy? And Rhys senses her fear of the bond and goes to help her? I imagine Rhys super angry, and protective of the reader, taking care of her and being cute...

(I read your recent Azriel story which was based on a movie, just amazing! I loved it!)

Safe.

Rhysand x f!Reader.

Masterlist.

Warnings; abuse, a bit angst.

Thank you so much. I hope you enjoy this too!!! I really enjoy your requests.

Being the High Lord’s mate could be very beneficial when you strolled around Velaris, most faeries didn’t even dare to look at you while others like most store owners gave you the best products they had, not because they fear Rhys, they do it because they love him. If you could take all the hate for him from the court of nightmares and multiply it by one million, then you would have the love for him from Velaris. You and Rhys knew that your whole life would change now so you decided to take things slow so you can adjust better and that is the reason you haven’t moved in together yet. Rhys would come over to your house most nights while the rest you would stay with him at the house of wind, recently though you both started searching for your dream house, a place that would represent both you and him and hopefully the rest of the family you will create.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You woke up in your mate’s arms with your head on his chest and your legs tangled, you loved mornings like this so much. You pressed your body harder into his warmth and glanced up, he was awake too with a smirk on his face and those violet eyes staring back at you. The sun was hitting his eyes in a way that they sparkled and his whole face looked even more sharp.

“Good morning beautiful” his deep morning voice sent shivers down your spine.

“Good morning handsome” you replied and kissed his naked chest.

“I have to go to the day court today, me and Helion have some matters to discuss” he informed you and rubbed your back.

“But today we were supposed to go see the house by the Sidra” you frowned.

“I know but this is urgent” his voice softer than before, a silent plea for you to understand him.

“Okay…” you nodded and pressed yet another kiss on his chest.

“I will take Cassian with me so if you need anything find Azriel” he said as he rolled you on the bed next to him and got up.

“Okay I want to stay in bed for a little longer, I will ask Azriel to fly me home later” you smiled and pulled the blanket higher. Rhys chuckled and started getting ready.

“I’m leaving… don’t miss me much” your mate smiled and leaned over you to give you a soft kiss.

“I’ll survive” you teased him, and he scowled playfully before giving you another kiss and hurrying off.

You rolled over to his side and pressed your face on his pillow, his musky scent of cinnamon and cedar still there. You sighed in content and closed your eyes. Sleep came over easily and a few hours later you felt well rested, so you got ready for the day.

You wore a pair of leggings and threw one of Rhysand’s shirts on, the need to feel him around you growing as you inhaled his scent again. You strolled around the house to find Azriel, you couldn’t see his shadows anywhere. Weird. You thought and kept looking.

Azriel was sitting in his office trying to put some mission reports in order when he heard light footsteps. He glanced around and ordered his shadows to find out who was in the house. They didn’t come back, and this made him tense, he knew that Rhysand and Cassian were at the day court, Amren was doing some research so she spent all day in her apartment and Mor was in the court of nightmares handling some issues with her father. No one else could enter the house without him knowing. The shadowsinger reached for his dagger and cursed when he remembered that he placed all of them in his room in order to clean them. He got up and walked out, walking quietly as a cat down the hall and ready to pounce on the stranger. When he located where the stranger was, he jumped on him, sending both of them on the ground and in one swift motion he manoeuvred himself so he could bang the victim’s head on the ground, when he did a feminine groan filled the silence and he glanced down. The hair looked familiar, and he rolled the female on her back, a gasp leaving him when he noticed it was you.

You were unconscious with blood streaming down your forehead.

“Oh no no no” he cried out and picked you up hurrying off to find Madja.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You woke up with a terrible headache and pains around your whole body. You squinted and noticed an unfamiliar ceiling and then it hit you. As you were walking around the house of wind Azriel jumped on you from behind sending you face-first to the floor and then he banged your head against it. You were too busy playing with his shadows to even realise that someone was behind you. You groaned and tried to sit up when rough arms pushed you back down.

“Hey it’s okay…. you’re okay… you need to rest” it was Azriel who spoke, and you looked at him. His eyes were red, his face swollen and his hair a tangled mess.

“I’m so sorry y/n I didn’t know that Rhys left you in the house”.

“It’s okay Az, you didn’t mean it. It’s not your fault I should’ve shouted your name since I was looking for you. You had no way to know that I was still in there.” You croaked and caressed his scarred palm.

“I feel terrible, and I deserve everything that Rhysand will do to me when he gets here. Please don’t stop him.” His voice was soft.

“No, it’s not your fault and I won’t let Rhysand hurt you” you said and squeezed his hand.

You could feel Rhys frantically pulling the bond and before you had a chance to pull back to reassure him that you’re okay the door almost snapped in half as someone forcibly pushed it open and your mate burst in. He was standing there frozen, his eyes wide as he scanned your form, and his power flowing out of him and suffocating everything. You shivered as you felt it, the power was raw and primal and it felt like the night came, like the sun would run and hide in fear. A low growl left his throat, and he marched closer picking Azriel by his shirt’s collar and pushing him against the wall.

“You fucker” he yelled and pushed him harder. “I’m going to fucking end you”.

“Rhys… baby it’s okay. He didn’t mean it it’s my fault” Rhysand didn’t budge. “Please baby he didn’t know I was there” you tried to get up almost falling on your knees by the pain and dizziness. This snapped your mate out of trance, and he rushed to you helping you back into the bed.

“Stay” he ordered and turned to go back to Azriel. You managed to grab his arm and pull him back to you.

“It’s okay y/n I deserve it” Azriel said and nodded.

“No you don’t, shut up and go. I’m fine. Everything is fine” you said and tightened your grip on Rhysand.

Azriel bowed his head and left, you made a mental note to find him again and reassure him that everything is okay. Your heart couldn’t stand seeing guilt tearing him apart.

“What happened? I felt your fear down the bond and then Azriel reached through his mind and told me he hurt you” Rhysand said as he cupped your jaw.

“I was walking around the house trying to find him and I got distracted by his shadows… I was playing with them and Azriel jumped on me, he didn’t know it was me though.” You explained.

Rhysand shook his head a low growl leaving him. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have let you in the house alone.”

“No, it’s just an unfortunate event, its no one’s fault” you whispered and caressed his arm.

Rhysand took you home and spend the rest days taking care of you, he wouldn’t let you get out of bed and even when you needed to use the bathroom, he would pick you up carry you there and wait outside to take you back to bed.

“Baby I’m okay. Everything healed I want to go out today.” You whined and he smiled sweetly.

“Okay, get dressed I have to show you something” he said and got up.

He picked you up, his wings emerging from darkness and shoot to the sky, after a few minutes you landed next to the Sidra. You looked around and you jaw dropped when you saw the big estate there. It was made from stone and marbles, with a huge garden and the biggest windows and balconies you had ever seen.

“Rhys this is beautiful” you exclaimed.

“This is our home. You will be safe here and we can finally start our family.”  He smiled and wrapped his arms around you from behind.

“Our family” you whispered and leaned back into him.

Requests are open but delayed!

[toutvatoujoursbien]

A (relatively new-ish) fan’s perspective on Luke Newton

(I wrote my very first Tumblr post last month and now I think I’ve chosen the path of essayist/suffering. I’ve also been writing this on and off for four weeks because it seems like every other day, something new pops up or the fandom has a meltdown of some kind. I’m not even sure if it’s worth posting, but I think, like my first one, I needed to get this out of my system in order to TRY and return to being a normal person - which is still unlikely because Lukola has me in a chokehold. NOTE: I finished the majority of this on July 19, before all the weird-ass stuff happened over the weekend, and haven’t had the chance to post until now. Anyway, this is going to be long, full of ramblings that are hopefully organized in a cohesive manner, and all opinions and observations are my own. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings, okay?)

I’ve really struggled to understand why the whole Bridgerton S3 and Luke Newton PR stunt has embedded itself into my brain the way it has. Like, how could the actions of someone I don’t know still be lingering in my thoughts even now, weeks later? After my first post, I realized that there was more to the entire LN situation than I was previously unaware of - so I started digging. None of this information is hidden or secret, it was publicly available and therefore the fans picked up on it quickly. But I, personally, DID NOT KNOW ANY OF IT, going into S3, and I think that’s why everything has hit me like a ton of bricks. So I thought, surely I’m not the only new(ish) fan who has suffered from this emotional and mental whiplash? 

I really, really, really loved Luke’s portrayal of Colin and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed watching all the interviews and behind-the-scenes from S3. I would also love to continue to support him as he builds his acting career. However, I didn’t have a full picture, which unfortunately includes a history of making - what I think are - poor and questionable decisions in his personal life that he also allowed to bleed into his professional one. And that’s how I find myself struggling with the dichotomy of everything I’ve seen him do during Bridgerton promo vs. lots of other actions he’s taken. So let’s talk about it, okay? (Importantly, I reserve the right to update my current opinions as more information comes to light.)

I want it to be clear that I am in no way hating on Luke. Part of my struggle with writing this post has been because I don’t want this to be misconstrued as more hate being thrown his way. That is not my intention, at all. Seeing “fans” over the past few weeks absolutely rip into him on social media has been heartbreaking and deeply unsettling. This type of behavior is ugly and nasty and no one should be subjected to it. Full stop. As others have said: it’s okay to have thoughts and criticisms (criticism ≠ hate), but please keep it to the appropriate corners of the Internet. I think you can admire/support a famous person, but you should also be able to call them out on their conduct, particularly the stuff that happens in public. Blind love/following and putting people on pedestals is never going to allow any room for reflection and/or growth. I think there is a LOT of nuance in the whole discussion around him, his past actions, his handling of things now, and what’s in store for the future.

Okay, deep breaths & continue after the cut (because this got… wordy).

Some brief background on how I got here: As noted previously, I’ve been a longtime fan of both Polin and Bridgerton, first with the book series and then with the tv show. But, for whatever reason, I never even thought about jumping into the fandom until earlier this year, in anticipation of Season 3. I will say that I have been delighted with Nicola and Luke and their work as Polin from the start, but with the nature of the show being what it is, I just didn’t pay as much attention until it was their turn to lead. I watched some behind the scenes and promos occasionally, but not consistently. It wasn’t until around the February/Valentine’s event that I started to take notice and then I fell down the rabbit hole in April (literally, figuratively, and spiritually 😅). I say all this to illustrate that up until the spring, I was part of the General Audience, though admittedly with a bias towards viewing Bridgerton favorably.  Another factor is that I got most of my fandom content from Twitter (again, I’m never going to call it X), with the occasional peek into Instagram and Tumblr. Yes, Twitter is a hellscape. But I am also lazy and only have so much time to scroll online. And since everything seems to get cross-posted everywhere, it was easiest for me to keep mostly to one social media site to consume all my Bridgerton content. But I point this out because I now see this as an error on my part. Why? Because I wasn’t getting a well-rounded picture of the situation around L, N and S3. Remember my own self-admitted social media bubble? Sigh. The fast pace of tweets meant I could blink-and-miss something on Twitter, unless it trended (or really riled the fans up). It’s a breeding ground for the hyperbolic and for discourse, in general. Twitter also seems to be divided into the Luke Haters (let’s be real, most of their “reasoning” is just uncalled for, vile hate) and the Luke Apologists (who have the tendency to exhibit, imo, some gross-excuse-all-his-behaviors-he-never-does-anything-wrong rhetoric). So it wasn’t until I started noticing chatter of Luke’s past actions that it prompted me to start looking deeper into what others have witnessed and noted online, particularly on this platform. Again, it wasn’t like I was trying to find some sort of hush-hush subject matter. Instead, I rather got the impression that those established in the fandom had a sort of unspoken agreement to keep these discussions to DMs and group chats - mostly as to not detract from Polin’s upcoming season. (But seriously, great of y’all to keep it locked down, however it would have really helped a girl out all the times I was like, “why is everyone so mad?” 🤣) And a lot of things started clicking into place once I knew more of the details. So I’ve put together a list of high-level topics/points that I didn’t know before, being relatively new to the fandom. Perhaps this can help other fans who are trying to wrap their heads around the various discussions occurring now and may feel clueless.

One more thing, HUGE shout-out to @jack4132cf for giving me a concise timeline of… well, everything I apparently missed last year+ when I wasn’t part of the fandom 😆🙌🏼 They’ve really helped me fill in the blanks (of which I had many)! Also, darcytaylor has a great 3-part deep dive, and I’ve read (and backtracked) through most of herejusttosufferalong and allsortsofthingsmpov ’s blogs, among others. They’ve provided a place for differing opinions and perspectives to be voiced in a respectful manner (unless you’re a troll, in which any clap-back is justified). I may not agree with everyone’s take, but I firmly believe that hearing views from others has helped shape my own thought process.

Let’s begin, shall we?

The Hot Fuck Boy Summer™️ (which I’m trademarking as HFBS)

Bridgerton S3 wrapped up filming in March 2023 and then Luke starred in the play The Shape of Things, which was in production from around May-July 2023. At some point prior to all this, Luke and his previous gf broke up - this is reported on by several media outlets in March, as well as “news” that he joined the dating app Raya. This is where, I think, his questionable behavior starts to raise eyebrows. It’s not the fact that he’s dating - I feel like fans gave him a pass since he just ended a long-term relationship (Enter the mentality some had of “let him have his hot boy summer!”). No, I think the issue is that he was not at all private or discreet about it. 

Remember when I said I think he let choices in his personal life bleed over into his professional one? Yeah, there were multiple glaring examples happening in real time last year, and the fandom took notice. He started publicly following certain users on IG and liking their posts, (unfortunately) many of whom were young, female models and dancers, under the age of 23. He (foolishly) followed his private account on his public profile, and then tried to backpedal. He engaged with some online flirtations that didn’t sit well with the fans (cough, E. Bear, cough), and then tried to backpedal. Mind you, all of this occurred and at some point later on, it’s then also decided that he’s going to move (aka, clean up) his social media presence to be more work-related. My point is:

Luke was digitally messy and left a trail (several, really). 

In conjunction with the HFBS, we also have:

& That Friend Group

Ah yes, the “boys.” Look, clearly I don’t know his friend group in real life, so all I can speak on is the image they give off based on their public social media accounts. And I, personally, am very unimpressed with what they’ve chosen to share with the world. My general perception is that L’s group of friends love to have a good time and show it off; seem to have an large amount of influence over him, particularly R; and can been seen as reaping the benefits of his success. He has discussed before how he likes to be generous with his friend group. During HFBS, they posted all about their vacations, on public accounts, and tagged Luke in them. They posted thirst trap photos and tagged Luke in them. They took quite a few boat trips and, once again, tagged Luke in them. Are we sensing a pattern here?

His friend group was also digitally messy and left trails.

I am in no way saying his friends aren’t allowed to post whatever they want on their accounts. It’s totally within their rights to have a good time and capture it on their pages, and I completely understand the desire to only show the “memorable” and “fun” stuff on social media. I just think it was short-sighted to NOT consider that Luke’s fans would be interested in seeing what he was up to with his friends - and you know that people will always, always dig around on the Internet. Maybe this was some kind of fun game to them? Maybe they enjoyed the attention? Maybe they didn’t think it was that big a deal? Who knows? But I think, in hindsight, it would have been safer and smarter to not have all this documented and out in the open, imo. 

My other understanding is that around the time the break up was “officially announced,” Luke’s ex began dating someone who was 22/23 at the time. His childhood friend R also ended a relationship last year and began dating a young woman around 22/23. Do I think R may have encouraged Luke in a certain direction dating-wise, especially considering that A was/is a friend of S, R’s new gf? Do I wonder if this was all to get back at J for starting a relationship with a new young thing, too? It seems likely, but of course this is all conjecture on my part. This is giving “high school drama” vibes, being played out in public, which is very, very  unfortunate.

However, Luke was ultimately the person who did not ask his friends to refrain from posting him on social media, as well as publicly following young women on socials and not being very discreet about his dating life, which is what raises my eyebrows…

The Age Gap Thing

Let’s just address this here and now. Remember, these are my opinions, each individual is entitled to their own, and I hope everyone takes a moment to really think and evaluate how they feel about the matter! I’m going to be very transparent and upfront about this:

I do not like the age gap between L and many of the young women he was showing interest in last year.

I’m viewing this from the lens of someone who is an elder Millennial and female. For me, personally, my dislike has more to do with: 1) A's age when they started dating/the age she is now (22/23); but more specifically 2) the power dynamics at play. 

I don’t have a problem with age gaps overall, because I believe that love can find us at many stages in life. However, I’m also of the opinion that a person 30+ should not be dating a someone in their early 20s. I’m not going to use the whole “the brain hasn’t been fully developed” argument, though valid. My issue has more to do with where an individual is in terms of life experience, emotional and overall maturity, and (this ties in with #2) financial stability within age gaps. In general, I find, say, a 45-year-old dating a 37-year-old to be on more even footing, which becomes even more so as you age. But a 22-year-old, presumably fresh out of college/university and about to embark on their next steps into adulthood, is just not in a position to date someone in their 30s. To me, your early 20s are the time for you to gain all the things I mentioned above (life experience, maturity, financial stability that is independently your own) as well as make plenty of mistakes. And that’s not to say any of that stops once you hit 30, or beyond! I know I’m constantly evolving and learning more about myself and my place in the world as each year passes.

My deeper discomfort comes from the inherent power dynamics and power imbalance between L/A. Of course L has lot more of the power in terms of money, resources and status; they are not equal partners. This article here (https://jill.substack.com/p/the-problem-with-men-who-date-much) illustrates these points much better than I can; I think it’s worth the read. 

Is he allowed to date whomever he so chooses? Yes. Are people allowed to feel the ick with the current choice/choices he made last year? Also yes. Does it entitle anyone to post nasty comments on his social media? Absolutely not. I may not personally like his choice, but it’s ultimately his to make. 

NOTE: I also want to address right here that, to me, his behavior isn’t “predatory” or whatever twisted narrative some folks are trying to push. Honestly, I think he’s gone the complete opposite direction from the type of women his ex and N are because it might be less complex/more simple both in terms of emotions and permanence. But obviously, pure speculation on my part. 

Antagonistic A

At some point during HFBS, L meets A and she becomes a part of That Friend Group. During Fall 2023, there are many trips to Soho Farmhouse and other posts made to R/S/A’s social media accounts. A in particular made quite a few posts that could be interpreted as her wanting to show she was with L, but never actually including him fully (these are the arms/legs photos that fans talk about and side-eye). Some of these types of posts have since been conveniently deleted. L and That Friend Group celebrate NYE24 at Soho Farmhouse, where everyone but him share photos and videos. On Jan 2, a photo of L and A kissing was circulated on social media -  they got caught in the video of the band playing. Also at the beginning of this year, A - for whatever fucking reason - started tagging along on various work trips and had a tendency to post TikTok’s from various hotel bathrooms. Again, insinuating that she’s with L but not outright showing it. 

The “InStyle stunt” - end of March/early April, there is a trip to Los Angeles which A posted stories and photos on IG. It’s later revealed that L was going to be featured in InStyle Magazine’s “This Guy” series, which included an interview, video and photoshoot, as well as an IG post that consisted of several polaroid, “boyfriend-style” pictures. The Instyle polariods were released three weeks after A’s posts, and let’s just say that A’s are a little too on the nose to be coincidence (also cue more hand/leg reveals…) Please note, again, that some of these photos on A’s account have been conveniently deleted/removed.

These are only a few examples of how… messy this all is and how it can be viewed as her antagonizing the fans. There is a lot of back and forth debate between “just leave her alone, she’s allowed to post what she wants” against “she’s clearly using social media to taunt the fandom/get attention/chase clout/etc.” When I finally learned about all the social media games being played, I just felt really unsettled for a few reasons.

Luke has stated that he wishes to keep his private life more private (see: social media clean-up from last fall). But, and this is my big issue here, A and That Friend Group don’t seem to WANT to be private. So to me, that can push people to question how much does he know what’s actually going on (he admits to not being online much) and, more importantly, how complicit is he with all of their postings? I personally feel like the narrative being pushed by his friends is very self-serving, and doesn’t seem like it’s in L’s best interest or protecting his privacy. Because I think we all know and understand that if a celebrity wants to keep certain things private, they have the money and resources to do so - some good examples that come to mind are Ryan Gosling and Eva Mendes, Benedict Cumberbatch, Dolly Parton, and our girl Nicola herself.

A has made it a pattern to post shortly after either Nicola or the main Bridgerton account posts something, usually on IG or TT; there is timely evidence of this. So much so that the fandom jokes about how obsessed she must be with N. And these posts don’t really have much substance - other than to show off her body or her latest vacation. It just all comes off as very insecure and seeking attention, whether it’s from L or from the public in general. Again, why do we feel the need to play social media games? But this does not mean she deserves hateful comments either. I personally don’t care for her or her actions, but as an older female, I also can’t help but be saddened by the fact that she’s making many, many poor choices in a very public forum. I can’t help but wonder if she’s going to have regrets later on when/if she reflects back on this time. 

The PR Stunt/Papgate

This has been dissected by the fandom to death and there are a plethora of theories on who exactly was responsible for calling the paparazzi, who knew what was actually going to happen, WHY did this occur, and how much did this impact the season and the press tour overall. It’s enough to make anyone’s head spin - hell, I’ve changed my opinion at least a dozen times over the past several weeks. Regardless, the thing that aggravates me the most about the whole thing is the absolutely terrible and suspicious timing of it. As stated in my previous post: Here’s my point: I think what should have been a moment of triumph and a joyous occasion for Nic, Luke, and Bridgerton season 3, was sadly overshadowed by the aforementioned shitstorm. And that’s a damn shame. Too many cast and crew put in a lot of time, effort, and blood sweat and tears, to pull this all together.

I’m still personally stuck on a few things: 1) How did paps know when L was leaving the official after party? Additionally, how did they know which hotel L was going to for his after-after party? Because that’s where we got the super awkward handhold attempt photos. 2) Did L know about the first location but not the second one - which ties into was this an attempt by his PR team to distance himself from Bridgerton and Nicola now that promo was almost done? Because the way he looks from location 1 to 2 is vastly different. 3) If paps were there, why was literally NO ONE else from the cast also photographed??? 4) Why has DM double (and tripled) down over the past few weeks on how she got those exclusive photos in the first place? And 5) Who ultimately has benefited the most from this whole PR stunt 🤔??? (Because I sure as hell don’t think it’s Luke…)

The Cinnamon Roll vs The Bad Boy

Luke has stated in several interviews that he’s interested in going for edgier, darker roles. I think that’s great that he wants to try something new and diversify; I would love to see him in whichever type of role interests him! However, he’s also spent 4-5 years playing Colin, a character that is quirky, kind and lovable (much more so on the show, thanks to Luke’s portrayal) and known for being the ultimate “wife guy” amongst the fandom. It’s also been mentioned time and time again that Luke is most like his character (by Luke himself and his Bridgerton cast mates). Nic speaks so highly of him, and the way he presented himself during the 6 months of press was really wonderful; I think he has a deep understanding and love for his role, and he was a genuinely supportive partner to his co-lead during filming. Think golden retriever energy - which is NOT a bad thing, at all!

If there is any truth to the PR stunt being organized by his team (and I’m in no way saying this is fact) as a way to differentiate/disassociate him from Bridgerton/Nicola, then I think this was a miscalculation on their part. We know that Luke did a lot of editorial photoshoots during the promo tour; and looking at the pictures now, it seems like there was definitely a narrative/aesthetic that was trying to be pushed of a more intense, moody and provocative L. Which is also fine! I don’t think he must be one personality or the other; humans are multi-faceted and complex, it’s what makes us so interesting.

The (Ongoing) Fallout

This is really difficult to write about because, honestly, I feel like we’re still witnessing it happening in real time, bit by agonizing bit. What we do know is that at this moment, he hasn’t announced any new projects other than returning for Bridgerton Season 4. He hasn’t announced any major brand deals and we don’t know what his next steps are career-wise. Which is completely baffling to me because I would think he and his team would want to capitalize on the momentum of a very successful season of a Netflix/Shondaland production. However, this is his life and his job, so until he comes forward with literally anything to say (a statement, an announcement, hell, he hasn’t even publicly claimed to have a gf FFS), then everything else is just noise and speculation. As much as I hope he’s not taking another HFBS, I also wouldn’t blame him for wanting to step away from the spotlight. He’s been unfairly dragged and smeared since the Part 2 premiere. Do I think he and his team/friend group have made a some missteps along the way? Yes, but again, no one deserves the nasty comments and vitriol that has been flung his way. 

So How Do We Move Forward?

I keep thinking back to the adage: When someone shows you who they are, believe them.*

And isn’t this the root of my (and perhaps others’) struggle? Because it’s been really difficult to reconcile someone Nicola calls “a true gentleman, the kindest friend, a dream costar” with a man who seemingly (?) goes along with pap walks, Instagram subterfuge, and appears to be distancing himself from the very project and costars that helped propel him into the leading man spotlight. For me personally, I go back to my point that people are multi-faceted and deeply complex. I think Luke can be all of those things; I also think he might be struggling right now to figure out who he is and what he wants next after being scrutinized so heavily.

Also from my first post: We have to remember, though, that what we’re shown is only a fraction of their true selves, carefully and deliberately curated to accommodate their status as actors/celebrities/those in the public eye. 

I choose to believe that we saw glimpses of the real Luke throughout the press tour. (ColinBridgey is a rockstar and compiled everything into a master list for our enjoyment!) I choose to believe Nicola knows Luke a hell of a lot better than almost everyone else yapping in this conversation. I choose to believe that his anxiety and quietness could be perceived as standoffish, and unfortunately he wasn’t able to shine as much as Nicola during the press tour, but they are a team and have each other’s backs - there is genuine love there, after all. I choose to believe that social media posting and likes are not indicative of the actual friendship and relationship between L and N. I would love to see him post more, or be more vocal in publicly thanking Bridgerton and Nicola - however, I realize those are expectations I have/desire and he does not owe me anything. 

I choose to believe that despite the mistakes and missteps, he’s a decent human being who deserves to live his life on his own terms and at his own speed. I really, really hope that whenever he announces his next project, I can be joyful and supportive. There’s a lot of talk about giving him grace, which I agree with. I cannot imagine, nor do I desire to be in the public eye this way; it’s easy for us and others to feel entitled to say things behind our screens and keyboards, but these are real, actual people with lives and feelings.

I do think that it is for the best interest of the fandom to try and ignore A and That Friend Group (and DM) as much as possible. And I will be the first to admit that it is really fucking hard to do so. Like I’ve said before, I try to ignore toxicity and hate, but I am also human and therefore imperfect and capable of pettiness. There is just something about this situation (probably how much Lukola captivated me and how much disdain I have for his friend group) that makes me watch everything play out like it’s a train on fire, careening towards an unfinished bridge, over a ravine. Sometimes I feel bad because I wonder if I’m adding to the entire spectacle with my continued interest. But then I remember that I specifically keep it to this corner of the internet, and I’ve found a nice little community where we can gossip and discuss and dissect it all.

If you’ve made it to the end, thank you. This is just everything I’ve been ruminating over the past month, put into word vomit form. I would looove to hear your thoughts and takes on everything/anything discussed above. Maybe you have a different perspective or noticed something that I missed.

*Fun fact: In my research, I learned that this saying comes from Maya Angelou’s “A Song Flung Up to Heaven” and is actually "Believe people when they tell you who they are. They know themselves better than you.” The more well-known version comes out of an Oprah Winfrey interview with Angelou in 1997, where they were discussing life lessons. Okay, I’ll stop being a nerd now.

[greenboyfriend]

choose a fish to fill you with whimsy & glee! (tarot reading)

"what can you look forward to?" image 1: this guy's got it all figured out. he's able to breathe above water due to the bowl of water superglued to his face. one might even assume he has prosthetic legs, or perhaps even feet... image 2: the ideal male figure... you may not like it, but it's a fish with a broom as a tail and no internal organs. image 3: a fish that doesn't resemble anything in particular. no... not at all! image source not everything may resonate with you, and that's ok! take what does & leave the rest. don't force it.

1.・。.・゜✭

you guys!!! there is something very wonderful in store for you, so long as you’re able to get yourself out of this rut! you may be feeling powerless, suffering some sort of attack, and being forced into the role of the victim. however! justice means to tell you that there is a major change that must be made on your part. instead of letting yourself be victimized, take action! use those emotions you’re feeling to tackle this challenge with passion– take that risk!! don’t be afraid to get creative, too. above all, and no matter what it takes, you’re going to need to address this, and with confidence.  in a broader sense, this situation is teaching you how to overcome a fear of yours. maybe you’re not the best at asserting yourself, but that’s ok! we’re all learning!! take this as a step in the right direction.  the extremely right direction, i might add, as the 9 of cups and justice seem to imply, this will be a very fruitful endeavor for you. the 9 of cups is often referred to as the “wish” card, because it represents having your wish fulfilled. after you take action, i see this result leaving you feeling quite pleased with yourself, and even a little smug! as you may know, justice is no card to be trifled with, so keep in mind that the actions you take regarding this situation will heed important results. do what you know is right and believe in yourself! you can do it!!! all of these cards are reversed-- except 10 of swords-- indicating that they're meant to inform your future actions (in the next few days, or next week). so don't worry if you haven't thought about it too much yet. but please remember that justice does not play! believe in yourself, you'll know when the time is right. there is some 18+ info beyond this point... click the link to read the rest but be warned its literally 2 sentences and NO ONE UNDER 18 SHOULD fucking READ IT! /srs link

(10 of swords, page of wands reversed, 9 of cups reversed, justice reversed)

2.・。.・゜✭

hello my silly little broom fish. you’ve been working hard! if you haven’t, expect to work hard soon! you will be taking on a new project or adventure, which will require your full attention. i’m thinking, some of you guys might be taking a new class, or be receiving training of some kind. you’re going to need to put your all into this! you may already have an idea of what to expect, but some things will be new, too. take the time to really get into the minute details, tie up loose ends, and recheck, then rerecheck, and rererecheck just for good measure.  this may also be a way for you to expand your horizons, and become a leader. if you have a good idea, share it! you may end up showing others the way, and being a representative of some kind. remember, though, to be painstaking about this, and really brush up on those fine details.  along the way, make sure you’re keeping yourself on course. if you need a moment to reflect and think about where you’re going, consider it a part of the process. while it is also a good idea to consider other perspectives, keep in mind that you’re here for a reason. you may have to assert your position & really push for your way of doing things. again, if someone else has an idea, don’t underestimate it, but don’t underestimate yourself, either! this may take the form of having to resist authority, and you may have to be firm. in doing this, you may also be able to reap a reward of some kind! remember, there are so many people in the world that would push for their perspective no matter what, even if they haven't researched it at all. based on the 8 of pentacles, you most certainly have researched, so believe in yourself! make that stand!!... well, when it comes to. all of these cards are reversed, so this situation is likely to come into fruition in the future-- in the next few days, or possibly next week. mull over it for a while. when you start to see the signs, seize your opportunity!

(8 of pentacles reversed, 3 of wands reversed, 7 of pentacles reversed, 7 of wands reversed)

3.・。.・゜✭

ok go off!!!! or somefin it’s time to commit to that regimen. whether that’s eating healthier, taking more time for yourself, or, if you’re like me, trying to practice more self kindness, creating an organized structure/routine is likely to help. so, for example, i’ll take my own life into account: i’ll often think certain thoughts can make me feel bad about myself without me totally realizing it, and lately i’ve been trying to change how i talk to myself. i use a systematic approach, in that i recognize the thought, then force myself to replace it with a positive one, instead. it seems silly at first, but the more that i stick to this method, the more success i’m seeing! this is just my example, but can be applied to your own situation! it’s always tough to start something new, but a month or two in, or maybe even a week, you see improvement. & it’s ok to make mistakes! you may be focusing too much on what you lack, or your shortcomings. there may also be setbacks keeping you from achieving your goals, or maybe you’re convinced that you made the wrong decision.  know that it’s always darkest before the dawn!! you may be in a bad place right now, and if you are, consider how you can make things easier on yourself. instead of letting yourself be a martyr, or feel powerless, do what you know will make you feel better. like that new god forsaken ariana venti song, be your own damn best… friend. it’s wise counsel. both of the readings above this are about the future, but for you, i think this is very much about the present. with all cards facing you except temperance, there is a story unfolding, where you complete some unfinished business, and find peace. the peace part is likely in the future, with it being reversed and all, but the time for action seems imminent, or already happening. i think you probably know what you need to do. whatever those plans are that you’ve been sitting on, make them happen! i just keep getting “declare yourself openly”!!! so do with that what you will.  you may even discover some sort of missing truth, keeping you from seeing things fully. you may also be swept up into the tides of change, and witness all the elements fit seamlessly into place. so hey! enjoy!

(the emperor, 5 of cups, 8 of wands, 10 of swords, temperance reversed)

[crguang]

Okay sat, I might’ve forgotten to my anon mark at the end of my last message aand I’ve reread part 4 like 5 times, but still, 

what the fuck, literally was thinking abt it in all my classes. And I will be yapping, as I guessed.

First of all, fuck Kafka really wish I was tbh she is so annoying, like just assuming r isn’t that upset, like they’re just having a little argument when r is grappling w the fact that they fell for a criminal, and literally killed their coworkers and a ton of other people, she is pissing me off. Also the stuff abt Kafka and her nihilism…giving me some thoughts. Btw have himeko and Kafka encountered each other in this, or has Himeko just heard abt her? And shes so nice, calling r everyday and being so understanding…

I can’t imagine what Kafka did when she found out she got blocked. Her going to text u and then realizing she’s blocked…kafka pausing when she sees that r blocked her. Kafka waiting to get unblocked as she orders gifts for u, who keeps checking her phone for messages from u as she sends more gifts, reminiscing abt when your first met in the store, silver wolf and blade noticing how Kafka seems to be waiting for smth, Kafka who decides to text you on an encrypted number to see how you’re doing, Kafka who sees that she isn’t forgiven and orders so many fucking flowers bc she didn’t know ur favorite. Ugh I can imagine her bringing all of them into r’s house, god she’s pathetic, I need to kiss her so bad so she shuts the fuck up.

anyway I may or may not have started writing a Kafka fic 👀 tbh I don’t rlly read romance novels so idk how the typical academic rivals thing usually works, trope wise. For some reason I keep fixating on her fucking nails. Like to me, she has them manicured all fancy, but Im fairly certain shorter not manicured nails are better for fingering. On her violin ofc, obviously. I played cello middle and high school, and I kept them long, bc I liked scratching people don’t ask I was a strange kid, but I feel like she’d keep them short bc she’s rlly serious abt it. Also Kafka is so dislikable, her ego is so big, and she’s always calm, like if she didn’t look like she was trying and still top of the class it’d piss me off too 😭

Also in the wardence event rn, I haven’t played it bc I’ve been sleeping or smth like that, but silver wolf shows up 😭 like ik it makes the most sense, since she has holograms but Kafka showed up as a hologram once ok 😭 but what silver said is like “i heard u we’re joining the wardence, and two whose names I won’t mention insisted I go check on you. Why couldn’t they do it themselves.” Ugh Kafka is so obvious it’s actually gonna kill me. And yes wtf couldn’t Kafka have showed up, she’s worth like 11 billion, so ik she can’t show up all the but cmon. 

-🌠

hehfjfjgjfjfj posting a new chapter and having ppl go “man fuck kafka” is funny as hell because honestly, yeah, fuck her😭 i think it was important for me to portray how her personality can be irritating in certain contexts and how being with her really wouldn’t be bliss all the time cause she doesn’t deal with emotions much, and that includes others’. she’s not totally detached from them which is why she does try but it’s very clumsy. it’ll be elaborated on in the next part but in her mind she really has picked the best outcome here and even if she was acting in her own interest, she was protecting R, she’s just an information hoarder. being on the opposite side means you dont know wtf is going on in her head and cant explain her behavior as anything else but “she doesn’t give a shit about me”. it’s an interesting situation to write that’s for sure but im glad that her efforts, though genuine, make yall feel irritated bc thats the point hehe

what i wrote about kafka’s nihilism was not entirely true, and i did it on purpose because R doesn’t know her. i do think that nihilism/finality creates a certain distance between her and accountability. when you tell yourself that this outcome was always a possibility, that it could have happened anyway, the choice you make is no longer fully yours which means that the consequences aren’t fully on your shoulders as well. i think that makes it easier for the stellaron hunters to do what they do, that and the goal they’re working towards that is supposedly the best outcome for humanity. but kafka is anything but passive. she is not “subjected” to things, she has an active role in her future and the ones of the millions of people that it touches within the constraints of destiny. i think with nihilism it’s easy to fall into a state of learned helplessness, where you suffer through the things happening to you because “nothing matters” and “it was going to happen anyway”, but kafka is not like that at all. “if destiny doesn’t propel me forward, i’ll be the one to push destiny”— this is what she does, so describing her as a drop in the ocean isnt entirely accurate because she’s making waves. R will learn that

himeko and kafka have crossed paths canonically before the trailblazer so it’s the same in this. i like that himeko has an opinion of kafka that has been cemented through their brief meetings over the time. in that one “keeping up with star rail” where kafka’s kit is presented, hime has a lot of shit to say about her 😭 all bad. she’s also aware that kafka plays mind games in it so really for her to hear “kafka manipulated me” was like “fork found in kitchen” there’s no surprise there. one of my favorite qualities in hime is her understanding and ability to understand multiple perspectives at once, it develops her already deep empathy and its just very admirable. shes a very soft character, i love her

AND YESSSSS SHE DEFINITELY REACTED LIKE THAT TO BEING BLOCKED HDJFJFKKG she stared at her phone like “oh. they’re really mad” and decided to give them a few days to cool off which is why she sent the first gift and after that she’d be wondering whether to text you or not for like a week; would open her phone, type in your number, pause for ten seconds then go “they’re probably still upset” and send another gift. silver wolf would be like “damn youre on your phone as often as i am. whats wrong with you” and firefly’s eventually the one telling her to go there herself to apologize and not wtv tf shes doing which is why kafka finally texts 😭 shes funny asf. the sheer ridiculousness of ordering hundreds of flowers and taking over half an hour to place them inside your apartment (that she technically broke into) to surprise you is so patheticcccc i would have swooned a bit im sorry. like omg youre pathetic get out of my house but also kiss me before you go… “forget it i’ll just get all of them” can she die 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

aaaaa im glad you have time to write the academic rivals au!! typically people have the rivals work together in some sort of assigned group project to force them to interact together but you can go about it differently, like one of them’s practicing for a big piece and the other gets to the practice room too late but but the others are taken and they have to practice the same thing anyway so might as well. or the mc is struggling and kafka happens to pass by and give her some (snarky) pointers which turns into her showing her how its done and the mc actually learning from her (which would make me homicidal). they could also just happen to meet outside of the school context and start developing a new relationship that way. do what feels right!! and yeah, kafka’s nonchalance makes it seem like shes effortlessly good when in reality she takes that shit seriously and practices often😭 it’d still piss me off tho idc

silver wolf showed up in the other event and its just so ridiculous how they always have her everywhere man😭 like fine she’s always keeping up with new games coming out and shit but would it kill them to show kafka once im gonna tear my hair out, we even got to text firefly during the wardance like im gonna screammmm. but kafka and her sending SW to check ip on the tb is so stupid they care so bad😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 typical of kafka not to show or text herself i need to strangle her. the lufou hates her tho so it’s WHATEVER.

[stormandforge]

Raw reactions to X-Force #2

60% Sage, 40% Forge, and 100% what I want from a comic.

SPOILER warning.

Sage finding the solution, Forge saving the day. I want to live in this issue.

There’s a conscious effort to remove the big hitters from the action to let the nerds take centre stage, and I am here for it. No offence to the Betsy and Rachel fans: it’s just not every day my darlings get to shine.

Absolutely loving the dynamic between Forge and Sage. It’s everything I wanted it to be, equal and open, if cautious. Here are 2 intellectual people functioning on the same level, and my, is it hot in here? I’ve been shipping them for a while, but they work so well together on the page, I feel vindicated.

Forge has plans for Sage. See: “nothing works without Tessa” in issue #1, and the way he rushes to save her before anyone else when the jet explodes in this issue. He needs her around. I just hope it's not because he plans on sacrificing her.

New pattern detected: every significant relationship Forge has with a woman starts with her insulting him. Weirdo man.

Time to remind the world of a general rule: SAGE IS ALWAYS RIGHT.

Going into this, I was afraid Forge would become some sort of seer character, and that the tinkering would take a back seat. Boy, was I wrong. THERE IS SO MUCH TECH IN THIS. He’s still the master tinkerer I know and love, we just haven’t seen him in his workshop yet.

But we do see him abandon Sage in a hostile jungle to return to his workspace. WTH man, that's rude.

In case you're wondering: Forge is hot. Sizzling. The brains, the mystery, the shiny eyes…He can recruit me for a suicide mission any day.

I’m hoping we’ll get more concrete information about Sage’s goggles. I’m always annoyed by the glasses she wears – it’s never clear how they complement or enhance her power, or what they’re for exactly.

Did we see Forge fixing/improving Sage’s goggles by simply laying his hand on them? If yes, that’s new and that’s hot.

Forge staring into the Analog all day like it’s the ring of power or something. Hey, handsome! Look up and give us a smile!

Of course he stores the Analog in his leg. The ridiculousness of this man.

I actually cheered at the debunking of the “passive” mutation. Mutant nerds represent.

Things that happen when you write Sage in-character: she becomes SEX ON LEGS. Uber smart metaphor for autism who speaks in probabilities and foreign tongues, helloooooo

“Not ‘colonizer’. Mutant.” Ohhhh that’s a bit cringe.

Little Miss Tessa talking in the third person for some reason (there might be a reason...?)

Loving the research Thorne is putting into this. He obviously knows Wakanda, but I love that he can also justify his premise with actual back issues. Gotta love a nerd with receipts.

Speaking of receipts, I stan Sele's bluntness. 'Hi, Stranger who just saved us all. I know everything about you. Didn't you use to screw the queen? Now get off my lawn.'

“Do not finish that sentence”, lol

The duality between science and magic is obviously a crucial part of Forge’s character, even if he hasn’t touched magic in a long time now. He favours science again in this issue, but I’ll be interested to see if he can balance the two again in the future.

Keeping the Tank mystery going, I see.

Nori’s a precious jewel.

I really don’t mind the episodic approach so far, but it could get old.

The average comic book reader might want a bigger scale and more explosions. I don’t. I want more stories of Forge and Sage being their hot nerdy selves.

[nightfurmoon]

BIG VILLAINOUS NEWS FROM FIL GUADALAJARA CONFERENCE WITH ALAN

LOTS OF THINGS ARE HAPPENING. 2023 IS GOING TO BE GREAT. Here are the highlights of the conference, which will be linked below! I’ll start with the biggest... :D

Alan thanks us for being patient because things haven’t been easy for animation lately. Changes within Warner Bros. Discovery delayed production, BUT there’s AMAZING NEWS! WBD showed A LOT of interest in Villainous, and MORE NEW EPISODES are coming!! Apart from the second half of the first season we all know it’s already made, they ordered more episodes!! And Alan said it’s a ‘really nice quantity’ of episodes!! He asks us to be patient though as they’re going through some changes within CN as well. So stay tuned y’all!

Alan really enjoyed making Flug's logbook because he wanted to explain how Flug's gadgets worked. They aren't just magic, they work for a reason, and the substance H3x introduced in the books is that reason. It is a core part of the story of Villainous.

The decoder found in Flug’s logbook will be used to decipher secrets in the show as well, not only other books. It is also an important part of the story, as that language is extremely old and closely linked to Black Hat.

Alan reiterated the importance of the books in the lore as they have tons of information. They will be relevant for the new episodes.

AI Animations is opening a merchandise store, with official products from Villainous and more!

PLANS FOR NEXT YEAR (2023):

Audiobooks of Black Hat’s completely harmless books, with Alan as the narrator (and BH obviously). Kaleb’s voice in that will be official and used for the show as well. The audiobooks will also have extra surprises! They showed a small sneak peek of the audiobook in the conference.

NEW VILLAINOUS BOOKS: BHO’s handbook for villains (the one seen in one of the orientation videos), that will teach you how to be a proper villain, AND a Miss Heed book that will tell her story of how she became so famous, her past at the academy, how she met GoldHeart… Miss Heed’s book will be extra important as it links the events of episode 6 with the new episodes!

There will be another book that’s non-villainous related and it’s about Axo, an AI Animations project with axolotls. This book will be more oriented for little kids.

The image below shows the villain handbook that will be coming soon! It’s the green one.

And here’s the conference:

[gunilslaugh]

Hello, how have you been dear? ^^ Can I ask for Xh reacting to you calling them "baby/love" for the first time? 😍

Hi, I've been good thank you. I hope you're doing good too.

All members ˜^•^˜

Summary: When you call Xdinary Heroes baby/love for the first time.

WC:~1.2k 

Warning:grammar

photo not mine credits to owner.

Gunil

Even before you two got together Gunil called you pet names, but you haven’t called him one yet. There’s no particular reason why, it just hasn’t happened and you never really thought about it either.

“Gunil!” You called out for him. You were currently in the kitchen, both of your hands were dirty and you needed help opening a jar. “Gunil!” you shouted for him a second time. 

“Yes?” Gunil rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. 

“Can you open that jar for me please?” You asked him

“Of course,” he answered pridefully, taking the jar and opening it with ease. “Here you go,” he said, putting the now opened jar back down. 

“Thank you love,” you spoke nonchalantly, not realizing what you just called him. Gunil on the other hand was very aware.

“Say that again!” He tells enthusiastically. 

“Thank you?” You repeated confused. 

“No, the word after that,” he told you. You thought for a moment then it came to you what you just said. 

“Oh,” you chuckled. “You mean love. Thank you love,” you reiterated your sentence. Gunil swoops you up in a hug and kisses your cheek. 

“You’re welcome honey,” he presses another kiss to your cheek, making you giggle.

Jungsu

“Aren’t you the cutest?” You say bending down to pet a stray cat. You and Jungsu were currently walking to go pick up some things from a convenience store. The cat nuzzled into your hand, making your heart melt. 

“Baby look, it likes me,” you said to Jungsu, who was now kneeling beside you to pet the cat as well. The word baby repeated itself over in Jungsu’s mind, it was the first time you called him that. He smiles feeling warm on the inside and maybe the outside too since his cheeks are dusted a light shade of pink. “What?” you questioned noticing the joy filled smile on Jungsu’s face. 

“You called me baby,” he said, slightly bashful. 

“Well you are my baby,” you told him playfully. 

“Yes, I’m your baby and you my baby too,” Jungsu interlaces your free hand with his.  “Come on baby, we can go buy the cat some milk at the store,” Jungsu says standing up. He helps you stand up too. You bid farewell to the cat promising that you’ll be back soon. Jungsu holds your hand the rest of the way to the convenience store. Through the rest of the say the two of you will keep calling each other baby.

Gaon/Jiseok

“There’s my baby,” Jiseok said as he opened the door to let you into the dorm. The two of you aren’t even dating, he just always calls you baby. It always affects your heart too. Both of you were lounging around in his room when you got an idea. Jiseok always calls you baby, but what would happen if you called him baby. You decided to try it out. 

“Baby can you pass me your charger, my phone's dying,” you asked him. Jiseok froze. Did you just call him what he thinks you called him? “Jiseok,” you called him. He snaps back at your call. 

“Uh yeah here,” he goes to grab his charger. He hands it over to you and you decide to try it again.

“Thanks baby,” you said, plugging your phone in. You did it again, Jiseok thinks. He can’t be hearing things.

“Are you playing with me?” He asks. 

“I’m not doing anything,” you answered, acting innocent.

“Yes you are, you just called me baby, twice,” he holds up two fingers. 

“You call me baby. Why can’t I call you baby?” You defended. Jiseok doesn’t know how to answer, this isn’t how he planned on confessing.

O.de/Seugmin

“Seungmin and I aren’t dating,” you informed your friend, who you were currently having lunch with. 

“What’d you mean you aren’t dating? You two constantly call each other pet names,” they state. It never really occurred to you about how much you and Seungmin call each other pet names. You don’t even remember when it started. 

“Seungmin, do you remember the first time we called each other a pet name?” You questioned Seungmin. Both of you are currently sitting on the couch in your living room.

“Why?” he asked. 

“My friend brought up how we always call each other them, but I can’t remember when it started,” you answered. 

“It started a few months back and you started it,” Seungmin told you.

“Really? What did I call you?” You asked curiously. 

“Love,” he tells you. “I bought you your favorite snacks. You got so excited and said ‘Thank you love. You’re the best!’ It was cute,” Seungmin tells you. He left out the part that he hopes he’s the only person that you call love and that he fell even more in love with you that day. 

“I was right. You are the best, love,” you say. Seungmin falls in love again.

Junhan/Hyeongjun

You arrived back home late after having an exhausting day. 

“You’re finally back,” Hyeongjun said, getting up to give you a hug. You felt your exhausting melt away as you sunk into Hyeongjun’s embrace. He soothingly rubbed your back. “You tired?” He asks you gently. You nodded your head against his chest. “Let’s get to bed then,” Hyeongjun tells you. Hyeongjun guides you to the bedroom. You both got ready and climbed into bed. 

“I missed you today baby,” you murmured quietly with your head resting on Hyeongjun’s chest. His heart leaps at your words. He almost wants to sit up in shock, but he knows you’re tired, so he remains laying down. Instead he holds you closer to him. It’s the first time you ever called him that. 

“I missed you too,” he tells you with his heart still beating on the quicker side. He stroked his hand through your hair. “Go to sleep baby,” now he tests out the name. “You’ve had a long day. You deserve to rest,” he finishes.

“Goodnight,” you manage to say before falling asleep.

“Goodnight,” he kisses the top of your head.

Jooyeon

It happened by accident, it just slipped out, but now Jooyeon won’t let you forget about it. 

“Love, can you pass me the remote?” You asked him. You realized what you called him right after you finished your sentence. You hoped that maybe Jooyeon wouldn’t have noticed because you knew that he would tease you about it. 

“Love, I’m your love now? Shouldn’t you at least ask me out first,” he teases you. 

“Jooyeon, just pass me the remote,” you ordered him, wanting to forget the whole situation.

“I don’t know who this Jooyeon is that you speak of,” he continued to tease you. 

“Nevermind, forget it,” you grumbled. 

“Here,” he sticks the remote out in front of your face. 

“Thanks,” you uttered, taking the remote from him.

“Thanks what?” He teases you again. You gave him a deadpan look. What you don’t know is that Jooyeon felt overjoyed to hear that word leave your mouth. He’s liked you for a long time, but didn’t have the courage to confess, however after hearing you call him that he thinks that maybe he should give it a shot. He really just wants to hear you call him love and any other pet name over and over again.

[clu-ven]

White Lies are just Truths covered in Snow

Summary: After arriving on a barren planet to steal the Empire’s hidden cargo, you go along with a lie in the hopes of completing your mission (Mayday x gn!reader)

Word Count: 2.7k

(currently going through my drafts and found this! decided to finish it off even though I initially started this right after the season 2 Mayday episode came out ;-;)

You look down at the planet’s desolate appearance. Despite being nestled in your ship, the very idea of facing the chilly weather makes a shiver creep up your spine.

The comm in your ship momentarily crackles before a familiar voice fills the small cockpit. “Tooka, this is Jaig checking in, are you on schedule for pick up?”.

In other words, it’s Rex, using the code names you all agreed on as a precaution. Even though your comm channel is private, Rex is a cautious man, preferring to stay vague and use code names while on comm channels. The last thing anyone wants is to accidentally give vital information away to anyone who could intercept your line of communication.

“Roger roger” you reply, biting back your smile.

You hear an audible scoff but it’s as if you can hear the smile in his voice “Stay focused, Tooka”. 

A muffled voice is heard in the background before Rex continues “If you run into any complications, let us know and we’ll provide backup. This should be a simple mission but stay sharp nonetheless… oh, and Rishi wants me to tell you he says good luck”.

Your heart warms at that. Echo has only recently decided to join the fight and although you haven’t admitted this to either Rex or Echo, his return is also the reason you’ve decided to do this mission alone.

You’re more than qualified to do this simple pick up of some cargo stored here. The cargo is rumoured to be something that can aid your fight against the Empire and with how dire things are, you’re more than happy to optimistically follow this rumour. 

With Echo still adjusting from being with the Bad Batch to now fighting the Empire on the front lines, you thought some quality time between just him and Rex would help ease him into it. 

Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?

Manoeuvring your ship to land, you peer out at the abandoned base, a thick sheet of snow covering the grey building. It’s not a welcoming sight. In fact, you’ve seen places on the lower levels on Coruscant look more welcoming than here… and a whole lot warmer. 

“Don’t worry, Jaig, I got this” you assure him.

“If you’re sure,” Rex sighs, worry lining his every word.

You laugh, casually sitting back in your seat as the ship descends to the platform below “I think I can handle stealing a few crates, Cap- uh, Jaig”.

“I know you can,” he replies “just remember to lift with your back”.

That earns another laugh from you “You’re kidding me, right? This place is bound to have some droids that can do all the heavy lifting… well, that’s if they aren’t completely frozen”.

After another amused scoff and a brief farewell, Rex disconnects, leaving you alone with your mission.

It takes a few more seconds for your ship to land, giving you the time to peer out at the base. It stands alone. No signs of a local village, a cantina or even grazing wildlife nearby.

The base is truly the only thing here. 

The wind that immediately greets you as you exit your ship is great motivation to pick up your pace and head straight for the building, not wasting time anymore time in surveying the area. The hanger has been left open for all to enter, as if the base is trying to coax the cold winds to follow you inside. 

Huffing, you pull your tattered jacket tighter around your body and walk deeper into the vast space. The dark outlines of empty crates line the hanger, probably full of medical supplies or food for whichever battalion was stationed here long ago.

There is an eerie silence to the place, punctuated by the sound of your own footsteps echoing off the walls. It looks utterly deserted. Now it’s nothing more than another relic of the Republic, frozen in time.

Maybe that’s why you become so rattled when you hear it.

“About time you arrived” the voice takes you completely by surprise, your hand immediately hovering over your holstered blaster.

As much as you want to unholster it and prepare yourself for a fight… you can’t, not when you recognise the voice. It’s the same voice that you know is capable of killing you, a voice that has experienced so much tragedy and the same voice of some of your closest friends. 

A clone. 

And so you simply hover your hand above the blaster, deciding to take your chances without instantly resorting to a standoff. 

You stay rooted in place, eyes darting to each visible nook and cranny, waiting for the clone to reveal himself. Movement catches your eye, your head snapping to the side as you're greeted by not just one clone, but three.

“We were expecting this cargo to get transported 6 months ago,” the clone in the centre states “any reason for the delay?”.

For a moment, you merely stand there, trying your best to comprehend the situation you’ve found yourself in. It’s hard to think of an answer to his question, caught off guard by the unexpected company. 

“Well, uh…” you begin, your eyes trailing down his armour, decorated with ribbons of bandages wrapped around each part of his plastoid gear.

Next, your gaze travels to the clones at either side of him, both with their blasters in hand but thankfully not aimed at you

“Get lost on the way here?” He offers up an excuse. Although his face is covered, his wrapped helmet obscuring his expression, the sarcasm in his voice is thick. “Or did the almighty Empire forget about us already?”.

“A bit of both?” you answer but your uncertain tone makes it sound more like a question. 

Clearing your throat, you try again, this time trying to sound more confident. “They’ve been updating files back at the uh… main base… some data was overlooked, so we’re behind on some missions that should have been completed months ago. Sorry to um… to have kept you waiting”. 

That sounded good, right? And technically it’s not all a lie. Ever since Echo came aboard, he’s been helping Rex gain access to Imperial records thanks to a few tricks Tech taught him. 

The clone replies with a shrug “At least you’re being honest”. The words sting, making you want to wince but you don’t, your expression staying neutral. If only he knew how honest you were truly being. 

“C’mon, I’ll show you where it is,” with the flick of his hand, the clone signals for the other two clones to lower their blasters completely, with one even holstering their weapon. A silent sigh of relief falls from your lips as you step closer to the troopers. 

“Hexx, Veetch, watch the perimetre,” the clone orders, bringing his hands up to detach his helmet. Once his helmet is off, he looks at you, your eyes properly meeting his for the first time as he instructs “This way”.

He takes a few steps forward, venturing deeper into the dim facility and indirectly showing off his mullet to you. His beard was a surprise to see too, though you’ve noticed beards have come into fashion lately within the clone world… mullets on the other hand, well, you’re positive this is the first and last time you’ll ever meet a clone bold enough to try the look and successfully pull it off.

“You coming?” he asks, glancing back at you with one of his brows raised “or did you just stop by for a chat?”.

You silently follow, hoping the less you say the better. 

“Name’s Mayday, by the way” he makes idle conversation “Commander Mayday”.

When you reply with your own name, he nods and leads you through the maze of tall, metallic shelving units. “I know this might be above my…” Mayday lets out a low chuckle “well, above my nonexistent pay grade but what’s in those crates?”.

You choose your next words carefully. Surely this is some type of test and the Commander knows what’s in there, right? Truthfully, you weren’t sure.

All you know is that it’s cargo the Empire won’t let go of, something they feel the need to hold on to even if it means their troopers are freezing to death to guard it.

“They didn’t inform you? Despite you being the Commander here?” You bat a question back at him.

“Clone Commander, they don’t tell us much these days…” he amuses drily, his sentence trailing off as he stops in front of what you assume to be the crates. 

Mayday pats the top of one, quick to change the topic of conversation “Well, I guess these are your problem now”.

You nod, biting your lip as a sudden wave of guilt washes over you. It seemed simple to take the crates when you thought no one else was here. You would even grab them and take out a few droids if that’s what was guarding the cargo… but even the idea of deceiving these clones makes your stomach churn.

You mirror his movement and put your hand on top of the crate too, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“Well then, I best comm the other two and get them moving this out to your ship” he lifts up his comm, giving Veesh and Hexx their new orders. 

While he does, you take the opportunity to look up at him again. You pray he doesn’t notice your guilty expression. By the time he’s off his comm, you’ve already tried to think of a few alternative plans. Would it be possible to persuade them to come with you? Would they be open and understanding when you explain the inhibitor chips and would they willingly get them removed? But then you hear Rex and what he would say:

“We can’t save all of them… but we can fight for all of them, one way or another”.

That’s what he said to you when he told you about what happened with the 501st. You could hear the pain in his voice when he said it and standing in front of Mayday now, it’s like you can feel that same pain making your throat close up.

Mayday seems to notice your shift in mood, a glimmer of curiosity flickering across his eyes. 

“You know, the ship you came here in, it’s pretty small for cargo transportation… not a model I’ve ever seen the Empire use either'' he keeps his head facing downwards but his eyes are locked on yours. The tone of his voice is so balanced, you can’t tell if he’s genuinely being curious or if he’s about to confront you.

A million thoughts race through your head. Should you simply ignore his obvious inquiries? Would that only add to how suspicious you’ve been already? Kriff, are you taking too long to answer?!

“Remind me,” your voice comes out croaky, the words desperate to get stuck in your throat and yet you force them out “when was the last time you were on one of the main Empire bases?”.

Mayday is a contradiction to you. His chocolatey brown eyes are warm and inviting to you and yet his position of Commander during the Empire’s newfound reign makes you apprehensive. The look he gives you isn’t sceptical, nor is it the hardened look of a soldier that you expected. 

“Fair point,” he concedes, his gaze unwavering “so you’re taking them?”.

“That’s what the Empire sent me here for” you lie with the flash of a smile, hoping that’ll win him over. 

You’ve been in worse situations than this, both during the war and afterwards. All you have to do is play along with a lie and despite a few hiccups, you think you’re doing okay.

Kriff, this isn’t even your lie. Mayday’s the one who just presumed that you’re here to collect the cargo for the Empire. 

“And they sent you to retrieve the cargo while you’re off duty?” he gestures to your clothes. 

It’s hard to tell if Mayday is teasing you or if he’s sizing you up for a fight, the smooth tone of his voice disarming yet eerie in the current situation. 

While your clothes aren’t what any civvie would wear, they are quite scruffy and far from the Empire’s pristine uniforms. You tilt your head, eyebrows raised as you feign shock “Commander, are you dissing my style?”.

That earns a laugh from him and you can’t help but feel a spark of pride. “Not at all,” he shakes his head, though his smile stays in place “I just thought the Empire had stricter dress codes”. 

You shrug “I was told this planet experienced extreme weather and I didn’t want to get my clothes dirty… but I do wish I wore something warmer, I knew it would be cold but this is worse than I imagined. I couldn’t even bear the thoughts of living out here and dealing with all you have”. Your tone shifts to a much more solemn note as you say that last part, memories of the war creeping up on you.

There’s a shift in Mayday’s gaze, a cloud of hesitation flickering past his eyes. So close to saying something and yet he stops himself, instead opting to simply nod in response.

It makes you nervous, your brain getting whiplash from constantly going back and forth from being convinced you’re in trouble to thinking Mayday has no idea what your true plan is. 

Instead of commenting on it, you focus on walking in step with Mayday, trying to act calm and bury your instinctive desire to sprint to your ship desperately. Making your way out of the facility, the two other troopers come into view, both of them hauling out one of the crates.

Glancing back at Mayday, you say “I’ll start up the ship, thanks for helping out”.

He gives you a small smile, a telling one though you’re unable to decipher what exactly he’s trying to tell you. Giving him a nod, you pick up your pace, your sights set on your ship. 

Behind you, you hear the Commander reply. “Sure thing, Tooka” he says it so nonchalantly that you almost miss it. 

Your feet jitter to a stop. Suddenly the chill of the wind seems sharper, cutting through you as you slowly turn around to look at him.

“How do you…” you trail off once you see the blaster in his hand, pointed directly at you.

“I should thank you,” Mayday begins, his tone just as smooth and calm as before “listening into your comm channel was the most entertaining thing I’ve heard in months”.

“Mayday, wait just-” you begin, unsure what kind of explanation you're going to give him but determined to at least try. But before you can even attempt to bargain with the Commander, he pulls the trigger. 

A flash of light shoots from his blaster, his aim perfect as you fall to the ground. Before you lose consciousness, there’s only one thought that runs through your mind — at least he has his blaster set to stun.

Mayday approaches you with his blaster held tightly in his hands, his firm grip unwavering. He’s seen it take three or even fours stun blasts to take down insurgents during the war and so he stays prepared, ready to deliver another stun if necessary.

When he reaches you, Mayday lightly nudges your leg with his foot, carefully watching for any movement. You stay still, completely knocked out and he leaves out a long, shaky breath. 

He didn’t want to do that.

And usually in situation like this, he wouldn’t even consider stunning. If any personnel enter the facility without being cleared by the Empire, then they’re trespassers and considered insurgents. In that case, it’s a shoot to kill situation, not shoot to stun. 

But as he watched you clamber out of your ship and survey the base when you first arrived, Mayday could tell this was different, that you were different.

Although every fibre in his being is reminding him that there’s distinct look for raiders or insurgents, you didn’t exactly seem like one. Nor did you act like the other raiders Mayday is forced to deal with on a week to week basis.

Holstering his blaster, he looks over at the other two troopers. “Hexx, go bring the crate back inside. Veetch, go get the binders,” Mayday orders, a satisfied smile creeping up on his face as he announces “boys, we’ve caught ourselves a pirate!”.