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torreshalstead · 1 year

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It Seemed Like a Good Idea - Chapter 1

Summary - Hailey’s US visa was due to expire, which normally wouldn’t be an issue as the CPD would get it renewed but due to a backlog of paperwork, this wasn’t possible. This meant Hailey was faced with the real possibility of having to leave the country, her job and everything she held dear. That was until Jay offered up a solution which would allow her to stay in Chicago, in Intelligence, with him - they could get married. Getting married was a good idea, right?

Chapter - 1/18

Notes - I really hope you enjoy the first chapter, I am so excited to be sharing this one finally, I’ve been working on it for a few months and I absolutely adore it. It’s full of all my favourite tropes and definitely some factual inaccuracies of the US visa process (going off my own limited experiences/friends) but it’s fiction! AO3 Link

It was a slow day in the bullpen, filled only with the sounds of fingers on keyboards and the rustle of papers. The tapping of Adam’s pen against the desk was starting to wear on Hailey’s last nerve. In an attempt to get away from it without snapping at him, she stood up and headed into the break room. Maybe coffee would be the solution.

‘Ruzeks' insistent pen tapping driving you crazy again?’ Unbeknownst to her, her partner had followed her into the break room and was leaning against the fridge. Being an ex-sniper, he had a way of walking without making any sound, it creeped Hailey out to no end and she had told him as much.

‘It wouldn’t be so bad if he could actually keep a steady beat to it’, she huffed, leaning her elbows on the counter and resting her head in her hands. ‘Thought coffee might help to clear my head but I can still hear it even from here’.

‘One second’, Jay said, excusing himself and leaving Hailey alone with the sound of the coffee machine bubbling away, the hot elixir dripping into her mug, the nonsensical tapping still echoing in her brain.

Hailey let her mind drift away from the bullpen and its noises but instead of zoning out to a place of peace, her mind was instead filled with worry; deadlines and dates swimming around her brain. It wasn’t unusual that she hadn’t heard anything by now, no reason to worry about anything.

‘I’ve sent him out to go get us actual coffee’, the smooth sound of Jay’s voice broke through her reverie. ‘You alright?’ he asked, her lack of a comment about him creeping up on her clearly concerning him. ‘You were somewhere else for a second.’

Hailey stood herself up straight, running a hand over her face and then over her hair, tugging her ponytail tighter. ‘All good, just a daydream’, she smiled, an empty smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes so she turned away from Jay quickly, focusing instead on the notice board instead. They had been partners for 3 years now, long enough for him to be able to tell when she was lying to him. He had the uncanny ability to be able to read her like a book.

‘Anything good?’ he asked with a smirk as he came to lean against the counter next to her.

‘Now that would be telling,’ she responded, her voice laced with sass.

‘Touché.’

‘There you are Upton’, Sergeant Trudy Platt said as she walked into the break room. The usually stern desk sergeant had a soft spot for Hailey, something that the rest of the unit never let her forget. Trudy had been the first person Hailey had spoken to when she entered the district 3 years ago, fresh faced and eager. It didn’t hurt that she had turned up armed with warm loukoumades, fresh from the Greek restaurant near her new apartment. Turns out it didn’t take much to get Trudy Platt on side.

‘Hey Sarge, what can I do for you?’ Hailey smiled at the older officer, unlike the one she had given her partner earlier, this one was warm and genuine.

‘This was sent down from the Ivory Tower, marked urgent so thought I’d best deliver it straight into your dainty little hands,’ she smirked as she handed over the envelope. Jay stifled a chuckle next to her which was met with a dainty elbow into his ribs.

‘Thanks Sarge, Ruzek’s just gone out for coffee, I’m sure if you stay long enough you could convince him to hand his over to you. That’s if you don’t mind the milky-est of coffees with far too much cinnamon.’

‘Trust that kid to have the worst taste in coffee’, Trudy made a look of disgust. ‘Chuckles, your order any better?’ She shot Jay a questioning look.

‘You’re more than welcome to have my iced mocha,’ he said with a smirk.

‘There’s not a snowball's chance in hell that you ordered an iced mocha,’ Trudy crossed her arms and pondered for a second, a calculating look appearing on her face. ‘You’ve got a coffee with a splash of oat milk, one sweetener and an extra shot but only on Friday’s right?’

Jay’s mouth hung open as Hailey laughed. Trudy had got it in one. ‘Hh.. how?’ Jay stuttered, the look of shock etched across his face.

‘There’s a reason I’ve got these stripes and you haven’t, Chuckles, don’t you forget it,’ she smirked. ‘Anyway that’s better than Goldilocks’s order of a vanilla latte. I mean do you want to be more of a millennial Upton’.

It was Jay’s turn to laugh as Hailey muttered under her breath that it was delicious.

Just then Kim burst into the room, her jacket half on, ‘Adam caught a case. He needs us down on Wabush, now.’

‘Sorry to cut this short Sarge, but duty calls,’ Jay said with a grin as he ran over to his desk, grabbing his jacket and plucking Hailey’s from the back of her chair with ease.

‘Can you put this in my drawer?’ Hailey said, holding out the envelope that Trudy had brought upstairs as Jay handed her jacket over.

‘No problem, stay safe,’ she responded, accepting the envelope back and watching as Jay and Hailey followed the rest of the unit down the back staircase to the rollup.

——————————————————————————

It was early evening by the time the team returned back to the district, tired and sweaty from a long foot chase that had ended the case.

‘Next time you catch a case Ruze, make sure the guy can’t run like some Olympic sprinter,’ Kevin said dramatically as he flung himself down in his chair, pulling at his damp orange shirt that was sticking to his skin.

‘Ha ha, if Halstead hadn’t sent me out for coffee then none of us would have had to endure such a lengthy workout,’ Adam said grumpily, wiping the dirt off his jeans. He had fallen flat on his face trying to take a left corner too fast and his jeans had paid the price.

‘But now the streets of Chicago are safer because of it, Ruzek,’ Jay said, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. ‘So really you should be thanking me for sending you on the errand.’

‘Yes, thank you for ruining my favourite pants.’

‘I didn’t tell you to deck it Ruze, not my fault you can’t stay upright when you run,’ Jay laughed and the rest of the unit joined in, Adam excluded who sat with his arms crossed in a grump.

‘Anyway, let’s get cleaned up and head out. Paperwork can wait for a day, Molly’s?’ Jay suggested, everyone else nodding in agreement. ‘Hails, you in?’ he asked Hailey.

‘Yeah, I’ll meet you all there, just going to shower at home,’ she said, gesturing to her hair which was sticking to her head with a sheen of sweet, speckled with dirt.

‘Too good for the district showers,’ Jay smirked, ‘the more I know about you Upton,’ he winked as he followed the others into the locker room.

Hailey opened the top drawer of her desk, the letter from earlier sat on top of the pile of pens and post-its that littered it. She sighed as she picked it up, folding and shoving it into her back pocket. She'd read it once she got home, she already knew what it was going to say.

——————————————————————————

Hailey sat on her couch, hair still damp from the shower, the open letter clutched tightly in her hands.

She had thought she would know what it would say, know exactly what would be written on the official letter headed paper. But she had been wrong.

She was now blankly staring at it, the future she thought she was going to have disappearing before her eyes.

The letter from the ivory tower which she had believed would tell her that her visa was being renewed and she would need to head to the Canadian Embassy in Chicago for a quick meeting and to provide the evidence that she had continued employment at the Chicago Police Department, hadn’t said that at all.

It had said that at this time the department was unable to support her visa renewal request. The department was over 12 months behind on applications and as such her visa would expire before the renewal request was even seen to. It stated that once her visa expired, she would need to return to Canada and that the new application would need to be started from there and could take a further 12 months. That was if it was approved.

There was no way that Voight would be able to hold her spot open in Intelligence for 12 months, it wouldn’t be possible. So she could end up stuck in Canada, a place she had tried so desperately hard to get away from, with no hope of returning to the city that she loved, the district she loved and the job she loved for at least 12 months. And then there was no promise that her job would be waiting for her when she would finally make it back.

When she had submitted her request with 6 months remaining on her visa, she had thought it would take at most 8 weeks for the department to review her application and make their ruling. She knew that as long as the renewal process was in process and the initial application had been received by the embassy then she would be able to remain in the US and continue working until such a time as a decision was made.

But if they weren’t able to review the application for over a year, then she had just 4 months left on her visa. 4 months until she had to leave Chicago. 4 months until she had to leave the home she had made here, the friends she had made here, the job that had made her.

The letter fell to the floor as Hailey walked over to the kitchen and poured a glass of whiskey. This night called for it.

Whilst Hailey was at home, Jay was sitting in Molly’s with the rest of the unit, his head constantly jerking towards the door whenever he heard it open.

‘You’re going to get a crick in your neck if you keep doing that all night man, she’ll be here,’ Adam said loudly, currently finishing his third beer of the evening.

‘It can take us girls a while to get ready,’ chimed Kim with a grin. But Jay knew Hailey, she showered quicker than he did and was never one to make people wait unless she had a good reason to.

‘I’ll be right back,’ he said, heading out to the patio to find a quiet spot in which he could give Hailey a call without any of their friends eavesdropping.

She picked up after the third ring, only a fraction slower than she normally would. ‘Hey Jay.’

‘Hey, we’re all waiting for you, something hold you up?’ he asked, concerned. There was something off in her voice but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

The line went quiet for a moment. ‘Umm, no, I just didn’t feel like it,’ she said, her voice sounding slightly timid, missing that bubbly nature it usually had.

‘You alright?’ he asked again, the worry in him starting to increase. She had been fine when they had left her at the district, sure she had been a bit more irritable earlier when they were working on paperwork but he had just assumed she was bored. She was never one who particularly enjoyed being stuck in the bullpen surrounded by paperwork. Hailey was the kind of cop who flourished on the street and in the interrogation room, not putting pen to paper writing it all up.

‘I’m fine Jay, just wanted a quiet night in.’

‘I’m coming over,’ he said firmly, coming to the decision that there was something wrong with his partner.

‘Honestly Jay I’m okay,’ she said but the finality in her voice wasn’t there, he took that as a sign.

‘I’m your partner Hailey, I’m coming over.’

‘Okay,’ she said quietly.

That was as close as he was going to get with Hailey admitting that she needed him. So he ducked out of the patio via the back entrance, his friends were already a few sheets to the wind so he doubted he would be missed. And if he was honest, they would only need one guess to figure out where he was going anyway.

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It took him only 10 minutes to get from Molly’s to Hailey’s apartment block. He’d been nursing the same beer the whole time they had been sitting there so he was fine to drive. She buzzed him in without saying a word when he let her know he had arrived. Unsure of what to expect at her apartment, he approached with caution.

‘Hails, it’s me,’ he said as he knocked twice on the door. It opened slowly after a second, a dishevelled Hailey with red rimmed eyes opened the door.

They had been partners for 3 years so had seen each other in a variety of ways; post shootings, illnesses, an array of undercover attire, but he had never seen her like this. She looked so small, so sad, swamped in an old CPD t-shirt, leggings with paint stains adorning the fabric and her hair thrown up into a messy bun.

‘Hey,’ she said quietly, moving out of his way to let him into the apartment.

‘I was worried,’ he said as he looked around. There was a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting on her coffee table, an empty glass sat next to it and a piece of paper lying on the table. Everything else in the apartment was as he expected.

‘I’m okay, I just felt like drinking alone tonight,’ she said as she walked back to the coach, pouring some more of the amber liquid into the glass and taking a long swing.

‘Well, you’re drinking with me now,’ Jay said as he went over to grab himself a glass from the kitchen. The two had often shared a drink after a difficult case so he knew exactly where to find the whiskey glasses.

‘Can’t promise to be the best company,’ Hailey muttered, tucking her legs up under herself as he took a seat next to her.

‘That’s alright, you going to tell me what’s going on?’ Jay asked softly, glancing over at Hailey. For someone who was normally so confident and who radiates positive energy, the Hailey that was sitting next to him now was starkly different. He could tell that she was tipsy, the amount of liquor left in the bottle told him as much. But instead of being happy, outlandish and on occasion a bit flirty when she had had a few drinks, she was withdrawn, avoiding eye contact and attempting to make herself as small as possible on the couch.

‘You don’t need to worry about my problems,’ she said. There was no venom in her voice, more a lack of belief that anyone would want to listen to her. Jay knew enough about Hailey’s past to know that sometimes it had been the truth, that she had spent more time isolated and alone than someone should do. But that was no longer the case, she had people here that cared about her. He cared about her.

‘I know I don’t need to, but I’m your partner Hails, I want to,’ Jay said, still unsure what was going on behind those ocean blue eyes. He was usually quite good at getting a read on Hailey, even if she did keep things close to the chest. ‘If you tell me, I might be able to help you.’

‘I don’t think your charm is going to work on the US immigration office,’ Hailey scoffed lightly and downed the remains of her drink, slamming the glass down a little too loudly on the table as she picked up the letter and all but threw it into Jay’s lap.

Ignoring her comment, Jay started to read the letter.

Dear Ms Upton,

We regret to inform you that owing to circumstances quite beyond our control, we are unable to process your visa extension application within the given time frame. The current estimated wait time is 12 months. As your current work visa expires within this period, you will need to return to Canada and reapply for your visa from within your home country. You must ensure you exit the United States of America on or before the expiry of your current visa. Failure to comply with this could have a negative impact on any future visa applications you wish to make.

Unfortunately we, the Chicago Police Department, cannot guarantee that the position you currently hold in The Intelligence Unit under the command of Sergeant Hank Voight will still be available upon your return, should your visa extension be granted. We will endeavour to find a role that is equally suitable and of the same level should this occur.

We understand this is not the news you were expecting but please contact our personnel department should you wish to discuss the matter in any further detail.

Yours sincerely,

The Personnel Division, Chicago Police Department.

‘Your visa is expiring?’ he asked slowly, looking up from the letter that suddenly felt like lead in his hands.

Hailey nodded, ‘in 4 months.’

‘And there’s no way for you to stay?’

‘Not unless I can magically pull a green card out from somewhere,’ she said with a harsh laugh.

‘Surely there’s some other way-’ Jay started but Hailey jumped to her feet, her shins bumping into the coffee table and causing the glasses on it to wobble slightly.

‘There’s not Jay, don’t you think I’ve spent the last few hours thinking about this!’ Hailey said loudly as she started to pace up and down the living room, her hand rubbing over her face. ‘CPD should have been able to extend it no problem, I submitted the application 6 months before it was due to expire. Like I was supposed to do. And then 8 weeks later instead of getting confirmation that my visa is in hand and I can stay, I get this. Banishing me back to Canada and pretty much telling me too bad your job won’t be here when you return.’

‘I’m sure Voight-’

‘Even if Voight wanted to keep my spot open, there’s no way the unit could be down a detective for 12 months Jay, that’s a whole year! I’m not being the reason that there isn’t enough cover on a case and you get hurt. Or anyone else,’ she added after a second. ‘I’ll just have to try my luck when I come back. But it’s just not fair,’ she dramatically threw her arms in the air. ‘I worked so hard to get to where I am, to put together a life for myself here in Chicago. A life I was proud of. And I’m going to lose it because of some administration backlog at the Ivory Tower. Are you kidding me?’ She said loudly, falling back onto the couch next to Jay with a soft thud. ‘It’s not fair,’ she muttered, pouring another glass and downing it in one before the bottle had even been set down.

Jay was speechless. He had never seen Hailey so out of control before, she was spiralling and if he was being honest with himself, he was too. She was the best partner he had ever had on the job. She kept him on the straight and narrow, without her he never would have gone to therapy and goodness knows where he would be without that. She made him laugh, made him smile, always gave him crap about something or other but he didn’t care. She was his partner. His best friend. The possibility of her moving away, even if it was just for 12 months was not something he was willing to entertain.

‘I have an idea,’ he said, slowly swirling his untouched whiskey in the glass.

‘Okay?’ Hailey said from where she had through her arm over her eyes, her body completely relaxed into the back of the couch.

‘We get married.’

Hailey froze. ‘I know it’s crazy,’ Jay continued.

‘Crazy?!’ Hailey exclaimed, her arm flying off her face as she sat upright, spinning around to stare at Jay. ‘That’s actually mental Jay, you can’t marry me!’

‘It would just be until the department was able to get to your visa application, but in the meantime, we could get the paperwork started for a spousal visa, you’ll be able to stay in the country whilst we do the application, simultaneously the department would be putting your work visa together. Once that comes through, we’ll be able to get the marriage annulled and go about our business as usual. You’ll get to stay in the country and keep your job’.

Jay was aware that the idea was ridiculous, illegal if he was being truthful but he would do anything to keep Hailey here in Chicago, in Intelligence, with him.

‘I can’t ask you to do that Jay’, Hailey said, almost deflating at the words, pulling her legs back up on the couch and wrapping her arms around them.

‘You’re not asking Hails. I’m offering. I’ll marry you.’ Jay turned so his whole body was facing her, trying to show her that he meant everything he was saying.

‘You’re serious?’ Hailey said quietly, her eyes filling with tears as she raised her gaze to meet his.

‘As I’ve ever been.’

‘You don’t have to,’ she sniffed, wiping a finger underneath her eye to catch any escaping tears.

‘I know I don’t,’ Jay responded with a small smirk.

‘But then why?’ Hailey asked, confusion etched across her face.

‘You’re my partner and my best friend. I don’t want to lose you. Even for a year. So I’ll marry you.’

‘You know this won’t be easy. We’ll have to fool everyone,’ Hailey said after a second, the gears in her head grinding into action. ‘There can’t be any cracks, it’s not exactly the most legal thing to do.’

‘I know Hailey. We can do it.’ He smiled, the soft smile that made his green eyes twinkle slightly more than they usually did.

‘So, we’re getting married?’ She raised her glass up towards him.

‘We’re getting married.’ He touched his glass to hers, to her it was just an agreement but to Jay it was a promise. A promise that he was going to do everything within his power to ensure that she didn’t have to leave Chicago and Intelligence. That she didn’t have to leave him.

#upstead #Chicago pd #hailey upton #jay halstead #one chicago #hailey x jay #upstead fic #chicago pd fanfic #upstead fanfic #chicago pd fanfiction #upstead fanfiction #chicago pd fic

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partnersrelief · 4 months

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This is personal.

“Teacher, I am so sad I can’t sleep.”

This message appeared on my phone at 3AM.

How do you respond to that? Is, “I’m so sorry,” good enough?

How can you sleep when you know that your parents can hear the sounds of fighting all around their village at home in Myanmar?

How can you focus on studying when you're scared that the next time you try to go home or even renew your passport, you will be drafted into the army that is killing your own people?

I’m used to my students' laughter and smiles, their enthusiasm for life and their incredible motivation in the face of difficult odds, but there is a point where reality becomes overwhelming and anyone would feel trapped.

The recent announcement about the enactment of the draft by the Myanmar military is causing worry and fear for young people from Myanmar both inside and outside the country. To try to enforce this law, the government will not allow young people to leave the country or renew passports until they have fulfilled the draft requirement. This will affect almost all of my students who are studying for their GED Exams within the next couple years if not months as their current passports expire or their visas for Thailand run out.

Here are some glimpses into the lives of my students as they grapple with this new reality:

A 17-year-old girl will have to return to Myanmar in 6 months when her visa expires unless she can find some alternative visa to transfer to in the meantime, which is very unlikely. By that time, she will be 18 and would not be let out of the country again. She said to me, “I’m so worried, I just want to cry. I can’t go back. I don’t know what to do.”

Another student told me that the active fighting has now reached his home village. Even though his relatives had scraped together enough money to pay for a flight out, they were turned back at the airport. Apparently, all flights had been grounded to prevent people from leaving the country.

A young man summed up his feelings saying, “I just don’t know what to do anymore. My country doesn’t care about me, and no one else wants us. I don’t belong anywhere.”

“My country doesn’t care about me, and no one else wants us. I don’t belong anywhere.”

As my students were confronted by the news and public discussions surrounding this draft order, the conversation spilled over into our class time. Many of the students expressed anger and frustration, obviously fueled by the fear they are feeling. They reacted to the way that academics handle this topic as a theoretical problem to be examined and debated, rather than an alarming reality. For the students, this is personal and is already impacting their lives. It is not just a projection of what might happen in the future.

In their own words:

“This has been our life for years already. Our people have been forced out of their homes continuously over the past decades. That is why there are so many of us in Thailand. It is not easy for us. We did not want to leave our homes.”

"We did not want to leave our homes.”

“What about the poor people who cannot pay money to leave the country? What about the children who are trapped by the fighting? What about the old people who can’t get visas for anything and have to stay where the fighting is? Who is thinking about them?”

Together we contemplated how we can turn these feelings of frustration and helplessness into something productive. What small goal can each of the students set their sights on to give them purpose right now, so they are not dragged down by despair?

At the end of the conversation a 19 year old girl who had listened quietly to the others came to me and said, “I am not going to get angry, because that won’t change anything now. Right now I will just focus on my studying. Then in the future I will be able to teach and help improve things and help people. That is the only thing I can do now.”

#myanmar #whatshappeninginmyanmar #education for all #partnersrelief #toloveistoact #thailand #migrants

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j-a-smiths-blog · 5 months

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1012 14Feb24: Chapter 45.

I made progress writing my script/storyline for my first ever attempt on a stop motion animated film. I find myself slightly struggling because as I write, my creative side wants to run wild, but then I look at the practical side.

It's like, I can't write it this way because how am I going to portray that with the figures, at the same time... I can't really show emotion on faces because the head sculpts don't have facial expressions. So unless I do intensive editing, I have to write my story accordingly.

With that all being said, I am one week from landing in Australia. So I kind of don't want to start any big projects. I have to make sure I get to a notary and take care of this title for my car back in the States so we can mail it out to my friend that I gave the car to. We need to go ahead and pack the stuff we are taking to Australia so we can weigh it and be ready for our long day that starts Tuesday late morning and ends late on Wednesday. Sounds crazy but the truth is we have to meet up with a friend to get some mail they are bringing from the US then head to the airport which our flight is late so we'd fly through the night and land just before lunch in Sydney. Then we would wait around at the airport until some other family members join us before we catch our flight to Adelaide. So that means getting to Adelaide late Wednesday night. Not sure why I am slightly stressing timeline... I'm not on leave from the Navy any more... if I really wanted I could stay in Australia up to three months on my visa.

Well... I'm kind of tired... so I might go take a bit of a nap or atleast see what the wife is planning.

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janaeofficiall · 2 years

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Chapter 13: Your Turn Fieldwork

Who are today's Migrants?

Introduction:

My name is Janae Vincent and in this fieldwork, we are getting perspectives of migrants. I've decided to interview my mentor and former teacher, Charissa Pretto-Huie. I have received full consent to conduct this interview.

Interview information:

Childhood Life

Charissa was born in San Fransisco to Rogelio Pretto and Judy Von Tress when they were 19 years old. Charissa's father is from Colon, Panama. Her mother is from Her parents temporarily stayed in the United States after she was born for about a year or two until her father's father passed away and left his business to his son to run it in Panama. She was raised in Colon, Panama. Seeing that the United States had territory in Panama, she attended American schools there. Charissa there learned how to speak English. She had to have a divide between her American school life and her Panamanian home life. Charissa described the Panamanian life as beautiful at times but she knew that she couldn’t stay there forever because there wasn’t much resources to further your education after high school in Panama. Charissa knew that this was not somewhere she could stay long.

Push and Pull Factors: Leaving Panama

Charissa had to make the decision to leave Panama after high school was over. There were no colleges in Panama. She knew people who left Panama but then came back but she said that if she were to come back to Panama with a degree, she wouldn’t be able to obtain an efficient job. She had always had the dream of attending college. She did not want to live in the same place that she grew up in so she also dreamed of living in the US. When she graduated, her graduating class was approximately 50 students. After high school, she went to a community college in Panama. She then went to the University of South Florida and entered there as a sophomore. Charissa there met her future husband. Charissa's mother was forced to move to the states as that is where her job in Panama was moving to. So, seeing that Charissa wanted a much better future than she knew what she could be given to her in Panama, she knew she had no choice but to move back to the U.S.

Bridges and Barriers:

Since Charissa was technically a U.S. citizen, she didn’t have to encounter the same conflicts as other immigrants with obtaining a visa and more. She also deems herself “privileged” in away because she luckily knew the American culture and language because of the American schools that she went to in Panama.

Charissa's Words:

"I came to America like any other immigrant. The only reason is because of opportunity. Like for example, imagine if you were living in Baltimore, you went to high school in Baltimore, but there were no universities, there were no community colleges, there was nothing for you to pursue a life after your high school years. That's how living in a country, let alone Panama, anywhere, any kind of immigrant sees it. Like I could have gone to the University of Panama City but that would have gotten me a job in Panama and it's not a great education. I knew that it wouldn't be a great education and I knew that it wouldn't get me a great job so I knew that I had to get out. So the bottom line is that an immigrant's attitude of why they come to America, it might sound cliche but it is for the opportunity. You know you have the opportunity to do anything you want here in the United States."

Charissa's Impact:

When I began my senior year of high school, I was completely lost and had no clue where I wanted to go with my life. That was until I walked into the office of Charissa Pretto-Huie and my whole perspective was changed. I used to not have the intention to go to college because I thought school was not for me. But, I was looked into and guided by this woman by who I was first intimidated. As time passed, I began learning more about Charissa and was introduced to her culture. She would tell me and my peers about her experiences and bring foods of her culture for our class. Charissa would give consistent words of advice to me especially when I was going through my darkest times. I can tell at times that there are still certain aspects of our culture that Charissa doesn’t understand. But, being around her has forced me to learn a new culture and the languages of that culture which is something I have always wanted. Charissa wanted to give students the opportunity at an amazing head start in life which was something that she didn’t see in Panama. That’s what she gave to me and my peers and I wouldn’t change that experience for the world.

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inthiseternalmoment · 10 months

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An interesting tower moment

Looks like my tattoos will be postponed until next year, on the same day we were finally able to experience Bite of Chicago a year after it was postponed for us

9/10/2023

I did not see this coming, but that’s the whole point of tower moments.

The towers of Chicago hinting at the tower moment of today. This was before we had any idea on if we could even get into Bite of Chicago – we were just visiting an underwhelming, one-off farmers market at this point

To start: today was absolutely beautiful, and Aprille and I had the chance to check out Bite of Chicago for the first time – we had missed it last year.

Last summer, the crowds at the entrance were absolutely insane. People were shoulder to shoulder and barely moving. We knew that we were not willing to put our safety on the line for the experience, so we did something else that day.

Being able to visit today on such a beautiful day was an absolute blessing. We ate good food and walked around Grant Park, and the synchronicity was not lost on us that we were finally able to experience this. A year ago, it felt as if the universe was saying “not now, it isn’t time yet.”

This wasn’t a “no.” And we realized today that we were in a much better headspace to come have the experience. I had my UPF rated umbrella to shade us (something I didn’t have last year) as it was a hot day and we were going to stand in lines for a while. I’ve also changed my relationship with money over the last year, so I was happy to spend more on the experience than I would’ve before.

Today was when we were meant to experience Bite of Chicago, and I see that now.

Towers all around on a truly beautiful day having a delicious experience we did not see coming

…

When we got home, Aprille began explaining how she was feeling sad about the fact that our Japan trip had yet to be planned, and how it was a reminder of how the timing of her return to the country kept getting delayed, over and over.

As she spoke, I realized that there was an anxiety I had myself about the experience, which was if I would be turned away for having my neck tattoos and not having them on my passport photo.

This was something that I had convinced myself wasn’t a serious issue, because I believed that I could wear a turtleneck to get through security. Beyond that, I did have a worry that maybe I would be asked to show my neck under a turtleneck upon arrival, but again, I was wondering if I was being overly concerned about something that might not have mattered in the long run.

As we began discussing the duration of the stay, we also came across the issue of remote working on a tourist visa. We found that while it might be done by individuals here and there, it was technically illegal. This gray area reminded me of the gray area the my tattoo lived in, and so I brought it up.

As we discussed it, Aprille mentioned the important fact that a passport is an ID in a foreign country, and having such a visible placement might increase the chance of getting stopped by police and asked for identification. If that ID didn’t match me completely, it could spell trouble for the trip.

I didn’t want that hanging over us so I had to come to the hard decision of cancelling the appointment. I plan on messaging Felipe tomorrow about all of this, and I’m in mourning of the experience.

…

It’s no coincidence that the same day we get to go to Bite of Chicago a year after we felt like the universe told us “not yet, it’s not the right time” is the same day that I come to understand that it’s not the right time for my final tattoos for my upper-body theme.

I know enough about life now to know that this is simply a redirection, and it will make sense why when I’m able to finally get the last tattoos I wanted to close out my theme with.

That being said, I did (and believe I still do) feel a sadness around this. It was something I was genuinely really excited for (as you can see in my earlier posts), and now the wind has been taken out of my sails completely. I feel a little bit like a kid again, scolding myself for not having “known better” or “known sooner.”

The interesting thing that comes to mind as I write all of this is that I don’t feel too down on myself after having sat with the synchronicity of today. I don’t need to “know better/sooner” because I will know everything in time.

I have been writing about this over the last few posts on how timing is always perfect. Nothing that is meant for me will miss me, even if I feel as if it’s getting delayed.

This tattoo snafu is similar to how I feel about meeting my romantic partner. It will happen when it happens, even if that timing is not when I envisioned it to be. My ego is not meant to know exactly when any of this stuff is supposed to happen, or how any of this is supposed to happen. Yes, my ego made the appointments and set many intentions, but that is all it is meant to do. It has no control over the outcomes, and that’s something I am taking to heart.

…

I see more and more how my posts connect to one another with each passing day. There’s absolutely nothing boring about my life because there’s always something building up, moving around, or shifting into new and unexpected experiences.

You can literally see the progression – my posts went from:

Tattoos are coming

My negative ego came out

Another perfect day in Chicago

Two nightmares in a row

And now, An interesting tower moment.

Who comes up with this?? What kind of life is this, where the days ebb and flow so unexpectedly? Was my waking life always this chaotic?

…

I remember how Bashar mentioned that this waking life is just another level of the dream. In order to lucid dream more easily, he suggested creating a token (like in Inception) that was wholly unique to the dreamer so that they could identify it in the dream. In addition, the individual with the token needed to attach to it some idea that was so out of alignment in terms of what they preferred so that this unique token would then trigger a figurative head-jerking polarization reaction in the dreamers mind, reminding them that they are dreaming.

He spoke of how his people began using this practice to the point where they were able to use the same tactic in “real life,” and began to wake up in it as well.

I was advised by the psychic in Edgewater to journal and log my dreams, and in this way I am doing both at the same time because they are one and the same. My dreams are just another level of this experience, and my waking life is another level of the dream. Except here, the recall is much easier (at least for now).

I’ve been saying lately that time has felt like it’s been speeding up significantly and the days have been blurring together. What’s more dream-like than that? Dreams constantly shift scenes to explore the same theme in different ways and different themes in similar ways, and my journal entries are proof that my waking life is doing exactly that.

Every day I’m just exploring the same group of themes as I continually come back to myself in an endless cycle of self reflection. I have the visual of the “circle closing” which is similar to the “chapter coming to an end” only for another chapter to immediately open.

Even as I think about it now – this process isn’t relegated to a daily schedule. It is literally every single moment.

There’s proof in this post alone: above I wrote about Bashar’s insights on how waking life is another dream state, and that wasn’t something I heard technically today. While I can’t pinpoint exactly when I heard it, my guess would be somewhere in the past two weeks.

This estimate is hazy because of how warped my perception of time has become, but that warping is actually what I believe to be the true nature of time is. It’s malleable and formless, and fits your current moment however you need it to. I hadn’t written about that specific insight from Bashar in a pervious post, and it was because I didn’t need to.

Callback: it wasn’t the right time yet.

“Not yet, it’s not the right time.”

This waking dream is just an endless loop of callbacks.

I feel the ever present nature of time folding in on itself. It’s like these chronologically ordered journal entries are the only thing keeping me “sane” or “tethered” to some form of order in the chaos, because I’m stretching out the eternal now and pinpointing the different ways in which it can fold in on itself.

Maybe that’s why my personal psychic abilities aren’t specifically for “sensing” the future right now. If they were, I wouldn’t be as interested in whatever unexpected or mundane experiences await me tomorrow because they would cease to be surprises.

Maybe there are still some surprises left for me.

#personal #september #2023 #9/10/2023 #27

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rainsmediaradio · 1 year

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Joyner Lucas & Future - Blackout Lyrics

Joyner Lucas & Future - Blackout Lyrics Part I Verse: Joyner Lucas Yeah, I can't hide my pain no more (Joyner), this shit gon' make me lash out (Lash out) I ain't playing games no more, I really might just blackout (Blackout) She can't feel her legs no more, I blew her fucking back out (Back out) Run up on me, bitch, on God, I'll blow your fucking back out (Brr, back out) Where I'm from, this shit go down, a lot of niggas crash out (Crash out) I just seen my cousin cop some work up out the crack house (Crack house) He ain't got nothing to lose, he might just bring the mask out (Mask out) He gon' take your Visa too, I hope your credit card don't max out (Brr, max out) Watch me take some bricks and soap and turn it to a bankroll (Yeah) Used to wanna get rich like Hov, until I met Jeff Bezos (Bezos) Billionaire invitеs, that's the shit that you can't pay for (Yeah, yeah) Lеvelled up and made some pesos, now your bitch wanna give me besos (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, besos) Mwah, first to do it, bitch, I'm Draco (Draco) If you want that drama, you gon' get just what you paid for (Grrah, grrah, grrah, paid for) 'Fore I got a check, I went and bought my mom a Range Rover (Woah) Wasn't new, but it was paid for, I said "One day, we'll be straight though" (Straight though) Part II Intro: Joyner Lucas & Future One day, I'ma change everything, I swear Toxic Verse 1: Future Like a kilo dropped inside the pot, my niggas spinning, ayy (Spinning) I just heard a hater just got shot, now I'm grinning, ayy (Grinning) I just took more dope, that's just gon' keep me out my feelings (Feelings) If I wasn't rapping, I'd be trapping, making millions (Millions) I ain't worried 'bout nothing, I got more money than my ex (Ex, ayy) I don't have to call, bitches pulling up off my texts (Texts, ayy) First day, I bought her that AP, 'cause she wet (Wet, ayy) I done spent so much money on bitches, I forget (Get, ayy) One of one, spill, you can't find this in a store (Store, ayy) Heard that was your wifey, I turned her to my whore (Whore) Let me be your sponsor, you a baddie, you can get endorsed (Endorsed) New Chanel, you know damn well it make girls get moist (Moist, super) Whipped up in a Maybach and I came back in a Royce (Super) I'ma pop my shit, drop a brick and I'm popping (Freebandz) Shorty can't complain, bitch, the whole world toxic (Toxic) She belong to the streets, bitch, go and fuck on everybody Verse 2: Joyner Lucas I got coke plugs, I got bass plugs, and I think I'm Pablo (Brr, think I'm Pablo) If this rap shit never worked out, then I'd be El Chapo (Brr, be El Chapo) Got a stash spot for the cash drops and a blacked-out Tahoe (For the blacked-out Tahoe) Put a ten of cash in a duffel bag, shit, back to Cabo (For real) If my phone ring and I'm busy, I'ma just straight ignore it (Okay) If you ain't calling 'bout money, then that shit ain't important (Okay) I used to want me a good girl, but they way too boring (Yeah, woah) Baby, we can fuck, but you can't stay till morning (Morning) And if I wasn't rapping, I'd be trapping, making Ms (Ms) Twenty SUVs, you'd never know which one I'm in (Skrrt) Travel 'cross the country, selling drugs to all your friends (Woah) And if I lose it all, then I'd just do it all again I still got big connects, I could hit the rec' from a bag of foam (From a bag of foam, bah, bah) If a nigga ever fall off, then I'll be Al Capone (Be Al Capone, ayy, ayy, ayy) Couple bad bitches in the kitchen, naked, they counting Os (Counting Os) I got niggas crossing the border for me, who down to go? (Ayy, oh, oh, oh) I need to know Read the full article

#Future #JoynerLucas

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cutecutebibaforever · 1 year

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Expiration Date

My visa to Neverland expired, so I am forced to grow up starting today. (Damnit!)

What is this “adulting” thingy?

I thank God for another year, walking, running freely and using my purpose well in this world that seems to give me a hundred of reasons to give up. I would have given up this race, if it weren’t the support from my family and real friends. I would, if it weren’t defeating the purpose of my existence. Today is yet another day of thanking God and the pure lessons I have accumulated for the last 365 days as of this writing.

I am nearing thirty and with this comes the realization of so many things physically, emotionally and spiritually. Physically, nearing thirty can be saddening if you live up to the negative side that you are aging but since I am oozing with positivity, I am always on the brighter side of aging. After all, it is in this calm realization that you become a blessing to others, that aging is a gift that one must cherish and that aging is obliging you to become more comfortable with your skin, with your beliefs (no matter how radical it may be) and with your choices in life regardless of what other people may say. Aging is a gift, and if you decide to follow your own choices and decisions in life and standing up for it, then you are growing up.

I love to be in this generation, especially when down-meaning friends and relatives try to ask me when I’m getting married and have kids, most especially! They can’t really try to understand that raising a kid right now is very expensive, especially if I am the mother! I may sound bizarre but I believe that the only acceptable reason to have kids is that you want to nurture and care for another being. That’s all. That’s all the good reasons. Not because you want someone to take care of you in your old age, not because you want them to take a certain career, to give you grandkids, to further your religion. None of that. To bring a child into this world with expectations makes it unethical to have one. It lays the foundation of emotional blackmail, like“I brought you in to this world and raised you, had you for this reason so give me that happiness.” No one owes you anything for the things you do out of your own will for your own sake not even your children. Likewise of getting married. I love my independence. It is scary for me, to live the rest of your life with someone full of uncertainties. I believe two people should get married because they love each other and decided to be together forever, no returns, no exchanges. I am still fascinated with all the possibilities life might bring and many times, as I have seen, marriage can weigh a woman down. I am not yet ready to be submissive and I will live up to that choice and decision until now. And my success doesn’t include a marriage and a baby yet. I am putting a comma for those. Who knows in the middle of 2019 maybe? Yeah, so please, stop asking me when to get married and have a child, I am too selfish with my time now. I don’t want to cause emotional turmoil to my future children and husband. I am taking my time and learning from the best.

I wish I will never grow old. I wish Nanay Ludy is still here, and my parents, Nanay Bebie and Tatay Pilar will live forever. I wish Kendra never gets old so we wouldn’t fight about a lot of things. I want her to stay by my side forever. More often than not, I wish to be in this age physically. I wish time will stop when I was just 22, having the good life and living each moment feeling invincible and not caring about what tomorrow might bring. There would be no pressure and I would be living in my own pace on my own right time. I used to sleep at 2am on my early and middle twenties, now sleeping at 9pm to get a full 7 hours of sleep to make way for a great workout first thing in the morning every week days (yeah, I cheat on weekends) is a real great achievement. Yeah, sure, I can sleep at 2am but I can’t endure the fatigue that goes along with it anymore. I want my skin to be radiant as long as they can be. Now, I have to do a beauty regimen at night, drink a lot of water and making exercise on top of my priority. I wanted to stay young, for my skin to never be damned due to over exposure from the sun, to drink 1 bottle of tequila with wine shots in between without dealing with any hangover the next day, to smoke as long as I can and never felt my lungs failing, to carry a 100L backpack while trotting from airports or ports for the rest of my life, to eat anything (especially ice creams, cakes and chocolates) without thinking of workout, to shop without thinking of the bills, to live in different places every time I had the chance, to speak more languages fluently, to be able to move and move far and wide and to just freeze in time. Age is just a number has been a mantra for the last 8 years but it is never true and YOLO (You Only Live Once) has a limit.

Priorities have changed, and a year can bring so much unexpected and valuable lessons to be learned. I am now more forgiving. I respect my parents more and I have learned never to let them be mad because they are in their twilight zone. I don’t give a damn towards my detractors for I am sure of my beliefs, my actions and thoughts. We can’t please everybody and that they will have something to say even if I am doing my best to be better, it’s always like this in the Philippines, a toxic culture of judging people based on the opposite of what you believe and do. But I smile with radical thoughts in my mind. People should be left hanging of what is going on with your life (love life especially, hahahaha). I am done with my comprehensive exam, in God’s grace, the thesis stage for next semester. Looking back, I never in one way or another thought could reach such an achievement in my career until I fully love it. I am honestly tired of it and can’t wait to finish it so that real life could begin. I am working with the local government unit of Dalaguete for 17 months and it is beyond incomparable with teaching. I have learned so many things and that this job is a “thankless” job and one should never be in to it unless he or she has a full heart for service. Albeit this is a “thankless” job, my happiness swells up to the idea that I have helped people without expecting anything in return, and I consider that a success. When I go to far-flung areas in my hometown I felt valued, it’s as if I am a purveyor of dreams. If we, Dalaguetnons, do not support our children through education, then we sacrifice our imagination on the altar of crude reality and we end up believing in nothing and having worthless dreams. I am happy of actually letting my dreams closer to the reality of others.

I lost special people who taught me incredible lessons in life and a part of them made me who I am today. I thought 2017 was the most painful year that I have to go through, but this year has brought enumerable pain yet so much growth emotionally. It is like life played a joke for me to realize that I have emotions too, that I just can’t rely on logic alone but I have to be hurt to know what is more important in life. I lost Nanay Ludy, who was 64, Sarge’s sister, our second mother, who took care of us and devoted her life for 34 years to the family! I lost my closest nephew (Sarge’s side), Allen who is a pastor to cancer and he was just 23 years old. I lost Tim, who was 31, instantly and I was never prepared for that sudden jolt of pain. Indeed aging is not just decaying (Albom 2008). It is on the positive side that we are all going to die so we have to make the most of what life brings and using our purpose well in the service of others. Relationship matters and forming a real one without judgements and biases means it is to be kept either way from family, friends or that special someone. We should count the days to be of service to others, to be the “gift” and continue to inspire them by just simply being there for them. I know I have a long road to learn but at least I am taking my time and learning a lot and I believe learning is an every day journey.

I am nearing 30 and my successes don’t yet include a wedding or a baby.

READ: I AM NOT WHAT SOCIETY WANTS OR EXPECTS ME TO BE.

Instead, my success is the ability to witness the sun sets on different sides of the sky. It is the collection of languages under my tongue and the imprint of countries and places along my spine, so I can stand tall knowing the world is within me. My success is a heart that unfolds like a map to reveal the path towards God.

My success lies in the conviction I possess for what I want to do and WHY. It is the clarity I have about how to use my gifts of my purpose. My success is in the strength and resilience I’ve cultivated from showing up for myself every single day. It is in my audacity to escape my comfort zones and going the distance to follow my highest dreams. I may fail along the way but my success lies in the action of getting up and reassuring my footing to climb higher grounds in this mountain called life. Finally, my success is the ability to love especially to those who hated me for who I am in the outside context.

Success is being rich in all the ways that matter. May you be encouraged to cultivate the kind of wealth and success that truly fills and inspires you, no matter how untraditional or unconventional your path may be.

Here’s going to 30...

Allow me before stretch marks, uneven skin tones, varicose veins and cellulites engulf my beautiful body! Hahahahah!

*Thank you Mother and Sarge for letting me extend longer in your house and still providing me with everything J like, EVERYTHING (except sakung iphone and allowance sa school). To my younger siblings who always understand that I eat a 3-piece chicken on ordinary times and additional 2 when I am super hungry. I so love you guys! 2019 is a must for an adventure to take!

*To my second parents, Nanay Bebie, for providing me with all fabulous things from bags, slippers up to dresses and Tatay Pilar for your unlimited supply of spontaneous cash and what-nots. Hahahaha!

*To Ate Darlene, Ate Wawe-Kevin Bonner and the breakfast club, I love you guys! Thank you so much for the love dresses, chocolates, teas and lipsticks!

*Porch, you really are a plot twist.

*Sir Crisanto Toledo, you humbled me so much by giving me a No Grade in Spanish last summer. I have learned a lot from you and hope to continue re-training in Spain soon (charot lang hahahaha). You let me realize that no matter how good I am in my major subject, I should also be focus to the cognate subjects for they are a part of the Macro levels of Grad School.

*Glendie and Johnly, thank you for processing all my papers, cramming and filing in your assigned offices. I will be forever indebted by your love and concern for me to go to the next level. Thank you for encouraging me to push through it all.

*Shynette, Bea and Sheila, thank for laughing with me and bearing all the stress and pressures of Grad school. I so love you girls.. Normalites gyud ta!

*To my MA COMM family, thank you for providing me an avenue to learn, explore, love and be loved in return.. Shima ngals! Haahaha.

*To my literature family with Doctor Cotejo, I so love you. Thank you for understanding my time and for never really asking my time most of the time! HAHAHAH. I appreciate you all for adjusting on my heavy schedules and just trying to make me feel comfortable in our Cebuano Bisaya class. In as much as I had fun, I have learned that relationships to colleagues are important no matter how burdensome the subject is.

*To my LGU family, thank you for the incredible 15 months! It’s a short time and I am thankful for letting me grow

*Kram, I honestly can’t wait to start another adventure with you! God-willing, 2019 should be our year! HAHAHA!

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bestlocalswitz · 2 years

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Book Your Vacations Online

You can save lots of money by doing some research online before you book your vacation. You will pay much more if you book your vacation through a travel agent. While internet booking was not popular a few years ago, there are many safe transactions that now make it more accessible to consumers.

Although booking online can be tedious, it is worth the effort. You can find many sites that offer different hotel booking options. Each hotel has its own cancellation policy. Before deciding on a hotel, it is important to read the entire agreement. Online bookings can be cheaper than offline and prices change daily. Some days are very affordable. Start planning your trip three months in advance so that you have plenty of time to find the best deals. Booking online has the added advantage of being able to select the location and type of hotel you want to stay at Switzerland. These options are not available to you from travel agents.

My honeymoon was planned 15 days before the date of travel. I was able save a lot of money. With 60,000Rs, we planned a 10-day trip to Singapore and Kuala Lumpur. Hotels.com was my booking platform for the hotels. We had a problem at the Penang hotel and our rooms weren't reserved, but they immediately fixed it when we called their customer service. Other than this small issue, there were no other problems. It was easy to explore all of the sites at our own pace. This was more of a vacation than a scheduled tour that starts at 8 AM and ends at 9 PM. It's like a vacation turned into a bootcamp by the tourist agent. Singapore is quite expensive in terms of food, but our hotel was near a food court. This was a good thing for my husband who hates trying new foods. Fortunately there was an Indian counter nearby and it was very affordable to fly from Singapore to Malaysia with Air Asia.

A couple I know loves to travel. Agoda.com is the most popular way they book their tickets. Agoda.com points are earned for every dollar spent. These points can be used to get a free two-night stay in Bangkok. Other sites offer a variety of rooms at discounted rates. You can also save more money if you travel outside of peak season. You can get rooms at half the price, or stay for two nights and get the third night free. You will also find very affordable airfares. A travel agent is the best way to get my visa. Although it might be more affordable to do it yourself, it can be a hassle to obtain the required documents and run around to different locations.

Online vacation planning can cause problems for tourists. However, there are many options. Locals are available to show you the area. Every hotel has a tourist desk that can help you organize your trip according to your schedule. Every day, there will be a schedule for sightseeing activities.

Online booking has its pros and cons. It can take a while to search for the right place to stay online. It can be tedious to search for and compare different places. There is always a catch when we book at discounted rates. If there are any changes to the plan, there is no cancellation fee and the entire amount will be lost. When booking online, consumers need to be sure of the dates. You cannot change the travel dates. Before booking your rooms or tickets, be sure to read the terms. It can be difficult to resolve any problems in a foreign country. You won't have to worry about this if you book through an agent. They will arrange everything from pick-up at the airport until drop-off. There are some consumers who prefer to travel safely and have everything planned out. They also don't mind spending more.

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plainlo-inthemorning · 3 years

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The Night Father Paul Went Shopping for Slim Fit Jeans

Warning: PRIEST SMUT. No minors, please.

Always remember protection irl when not having spontaneous sex with vampiric beings. But also then.

Brief: The previously untold story of how Father Paul Hill acquired a wardrobe stuffed with slim-fit jeans and snug boyfriend cardies before returning to Crockett Island.

His large, warm hand covers your lips. In between moans you lick at his fingers, until he slips one of them into your mouth. You bite down softly, letting your tongue swirl around the digit.

When he looks up from what he’s doing further down your body, his eyes have turned black.

Earlier that same day.

“Hey, y/n, a hot priest just walked through the door”.

Your colleague Rachel pops her head into the back office and winks at you. You barely look up from your magazine.

“Mmkay”.

The clock on the wall above the manager’s desk showed twenty-five minutes to closing time a while ago, but the day has been so slow on customer traffic and thus so mind-numbingly boring, that you’re afraid if you look directly at the clock to check if you can finally escape, the hands will slow to a full stop, and you’ll be forever trapped in this too-stuffy purgatory of a hip menswear store in a part of town where only men with bad hips ever pass by on their way to the holy sites.

What was the owner thinking when he rented the space? That he could tempt a couple of Fathers on vacation to consider accessorizing their robes with figure-hugging t-shirts adorned with Ramones logos?

You have no idea; you’ve never met the owner in person.

You’re only in the country for a few months on a work visa, and before you ended up in the store, you had a few very enjoyable, raucous weeks serving cocktails in an altogether differently bustling, young neighborhood. You had wanted to spend the remaining weeks exploring the rural areas and perhaps have someone else serve you a few cocktails for a change, but somehow (well…) your money had gone too quickly. And then a girl at the hostel you’d been staying at had pointed you to the store where they needed shopgirl for two weeks during the owner’s holiday (my holiday too, you think, bitterly).

Rachel, your one and only co-worker who has two young children and an ice-hockey obsessed spouse she complains about non-stop, is still standing in the doorway to the office, waiting. Really, is she expecting you to deal with a customer at five or so minutes to freedom?

If there even is a customer out there.

A hot priest.

In Rachel speak, this most likely translates to an old, excessively sweaty priest of which there are many on these streets. But a hot one? This is your life, not Fleabag’s.

Still, Rachel seems determined on making you do…something.

You look up, annoyed. “What? If there’s an actual live customer in the building, why can’t you just help him? I’m almost off anyway”.

“Oh, there’s someone here alright”. Rachel’s voice is a high whisper with notes of daytime soap suspense. Dear God, you’re both so bored.

“But the thing is, y/n, I have to go pick up one of the boys from swim lessons. Now. Apparently, someone accidentally showed one of the girls his…well, it doesn’t matter, point is, I must go. So sorry. You’ll have to lock up tonight, okay?”

You level her a death stare. “Are you kidding me, Rachel?”

“I’m sorry, y/n”, she hisses (why is she still whispering?), but she looks anything but. In fact, she looks oddly excited. “Let’s just say I’m leaving you with a little something that might make up for the extra time you have to put in”.

Fine, consider your curiosity vaguely piqued.

“I’ll tell him you’ll be right out, okay? And…” Rachel looks you over, “maybe just run your fingers through your hair?”

Say what?

Before you can respond, Rachel has disappeared. You hear her say something to the customer, and then it’s all quiet. She must have left. You sigh and close the magazine.

Okay, so-called hot priest, here we go.

When you stand up, you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror next to the door. Yes, you look a bit tired (no wonder), but your long, shiny hair falls prettily around your shoulders, and the remains of the tan you worked up traveling around Asia in February is still making your eye color pop. Perfectly presentable.

You make your way to the front of the store, smoothing down your bright red t-shirt as you go.

“Hello, sir, what can I…”

You look around.

And gasp.

Perhaps it’s because you were fully expecting Rachel to be kidding.

Perhaps your guard is just a little down after the long day.

Or perhaps the man in front of you is simply downright hot.

And a priest.

Holy shit, they do exist.

His raven locks are 1960s movie star wavy, and his brown eyes at once adorably doe-like and mysteriously cautious. A man with a secret or two.

“Hello … ?” He smiles, more sheepishly than you’d expect from a man this handsome, and you realize that you’ve been staring at him with your mouth agape. Excellent customer service approach.

The timbre of his voice at that one word alone sends a shiver down your spine (an American. You won’t hold it against him. After all, you’re headed back to Boston yourself after the holiday).

You offer the stranger your most professional smile and an apologetic hand gesture. “Sorry, I think I lost my train of thought for a second. Long day, you know”. Hopefully he didn’t clock your less than saintly appreciation of his obvious good looks. An image of a rapt church audience hanging on his every word flashes through your mind.

He eyes you quizzically, but the corner of his mouth twitches a little.

“What can I do for you?”, you ask, clasping your hands together in front of you, firm that his handsomeness will not compromise your skills as a salesperson.

“Well…”. He looks around as if he’s not sure. You’ve dealt with clueless male shoppers before, so this is nothing out of the ordinary. Usually, they just need a few nudges to get the ball rolling. Which is why the owner prefers to have younger, female employees work the front room (incredibly sexist, really, but hey, you’re only here for two weeks).

“I’ll be honest with you, I’m not quite sure…”, he says (yup, here we go). “It’s been a very long time since I went shopping for clothes. A very long time”. He chuckles at the last part, mostly to himself it seems, and you secretly thrill at how melodic his voice is, the way it rises and falls on the words with a strangely unpredictable rhythm.

While his eyes wander over the displays, you take in the outfit he’s currently wearing. The white collar was the first thing you spotted, naturally, but now the rest of the attire strikes you as positively bizarre. Even for a priest. It’s a traditional long black robe, but it seems to be at least a couple of sizes too short, and the same goes for the black pants he’s wearing underneath. Also, you think you see the faint outline of a large stain on the front of his robe-shirt-thing (you’ve never bothered to learn the proper terms).

You quickly look away before he catches you gawking at him again. “Are you thinking shirts, jeans…? We got some really cool sweaters in last week, but they may be a bit too hot for this weather we’re having…”

“I’m leaving to go home soon. To Maine. So, sweaters are not a bad idea”. He smiles at you and warmth spreads through your veins in a way not usually associated with Tuesday afternoons in an airless clothing store. The man’s got charisma in spades.

“Okay, well, then let me pull a few things out for you. What’s your usual size?”

Normally, you’d be able to tell, but the priest get-up is throwing you a bit. And that stain…it looks like he has tried to wash it off, but most likely just in the sink or it wouldn’t still be noticeable on the black fabric. A classic pasta sauce incident, maybe? Or a sticky cocktail? You can’t imagine the latter, although just thinking about it makes you grin before you can catch yourself.

“Miss…?”

The stranger is smiling politely at you, if a little tentative. Did it look like you were amused at his expense? Then again, he knows what he’s wearing, surely? With the size of the shirt so off on his tall, lean frame it reminds you of a Halloween costume.

Deciding that a man of the cloth probably welcomes honesty, you exhale and give it to him. Kind of.

“Again, sorry. I’m a little distracted. It’s just, and please don’t take this the wrong way, we don’t get a lot of priests coming in here. Or, none. I think the only priest I’ve assisted was a guy asking for directions to the coach stop. And he was definitely not as…” You search for the word, careful not to throw a Freudian slip at the poor man, “…young as you. I haven’t met a lot of…young priests”. God, you sound like an imbecile. “But I’m here to help! Whatever you need”.

He doesn’t look well at ease and for a second you think he’s going to make his excuses and walk out. But then, thank heavens, he sighs and shrugs. “I get it, don’t worry. There’s a mirror in my room. Thing is my luggage was stolen so I’ve had to borrow something of one of the other…guests at the place I’m staying at. As you can imagine, I’d rather like to get out of it again”. He gives you a grin that’s surprisingly close to being cheeky, and you can feel yourself blush – a detail he clearly notices as his smile grows. At the same time, though, he appears somewhat befuddled.

Fine, he’s a priest and embracing superficial beauty is for the weak of spirit or whatnot (you’re guessing), but he must be at least a tiny bit aware of how attractive he is?

Apparently not. Of course, that only makes him more attractive. If he were to pull out a pair of Clark Kent glasses, you’d melt into the floor.

“Although…” He suddenly seems to remember something and looks around the empty store. “Wait, did I walk in just as you were about to close? So sorry, I can come back tomorrow…”. He makes to leave, and you manage to startle the both of you as you immediately step in front him, practically blocking his way. “No! I mean, please stay. It’s been so quiet today I’d really like to help you pick out some stuff. Honestly”.

You smile sweetly up at him. He looks more befuddled than ever, but also...intrigued. Or maybe you’re reading him wrong.

He clears his throat. “Well, thank you so much. I’ll be quick”. He maintains eye contact with you, and the moment drags out just a beat longer than you expect is the social norm for devout professionals.

It’s not just you then. Interesting.

You can feel his gaze following you as you walk from shelf to shelf, picking out items. It makes you straighten your back and sway your hips a bit more than usual. You’re wearing low-cut jeans and trainers in ridiculously stark sartorial contrast to his gothic ensemble, and something about that is a major turn on.

You wonder how long he’s been a priest. If he’s ever actually touched anyone in that way before strapping on the collar. Maybe it gives him electric shocks if he has impure thoughts, like one of those dog collars.

He still hasn’t told you his size, so now you’re going by eye measurements after all, pulling out a couple of grey and white t-shirts in baby soft cotton (no band logos for this one you reckon), and casual but slim-fitting sweaters and cardigans in dark blue and charcoal. You pause in front of the jeans. He’s young and fit enough for slim jeans, and you bet they would look great on him. Sexy.

But perhaps that’s taking it a step too far, even for a 21st Century priest?

What the heck, he can try them on and just say no if he doesn’t like them. Making fashion choices for him gives you a sense of sexual power. You’ve assisted other men his age select jeans, good looking guys among them, but putting a hot priest in skinny jeans while all alone with him in the store is up there with the most stirring non-sex acts you’ve participated in lately.

“My name is Paul, by the way. What’s yours?”

You nearly jump as his soft voice sounds right behind you while you’re standing on tiptoes trying to reach the shelf with the jeans you want to show him. You turn around and come directly face to face with him. Or face to chest.

“Um, it’s y/n”. He smells faintly of pines and musk. It’s a little dizzying, frankly, and you dare not think about what you smell like yourself after stewing away indoors all day.

“Nice to meet you, y/n”. His eyes drink you up in a way that suddenly feels quite intimate. You swallow and try not to focus on how he subtly wets his bottom lip. “Do you need help reaching those up there?” Without taking his eyes off you, he nods towards the jeans. “Uh, yes. The grey ones on top. Thank you…Paul”. You taste his name and for some reason it makes him smile mischievously. He reaches over your head to grab the jeans, effectively trapping you between him and the wall of shelves.

He’s so close you can feel his body heat, and your breathing is fast becoming unsteady. The way he’s positioned, he has an excellent view down your v-neck, should he care to look. You feel a rush of adrenaline when his eyes briefly do.

If he wasn’t a man of the cloth, you’d think he seemed...hungry.

You lead him to the changing rooms, and he dutifully follows closely behind you. He’s so tall his head and the top of his chest are visible above the curtain, so you turn your back on him to give him some privacy while he changes.

There’s ruffling of fabric, and then he steps out again - a completely different man. You audibly inhale, you can’t help it. He’s wearing the slim, grey jeans that fit him perfectly, a white t-shirt and the charcoal cardigan in ribbed knit. His feet are now bare, which gives the outfit an effortless air of a man who once played in an indie band in the noughties. The collar he's left in the changing room.

Lord, he has Dream Boyfriend written all over him. You literally see yourself wearing that cardigan over nothing while padding around his kitchen the morning after.

If he even has a kitchen in his priest home (house? Priest lodgings?).

“You look great. Those jeans suit you very well”. You eye him up and down, appraisingly, while he inspects himself in the full-length mirrors on the wall next to the changing rooms. There’s that tiny smirk again, mixed with something akin to surprise.

“It’s definitely…different compared to what I have hanging in my closet back home”, he says, turning from side to side and fiddling with the buttons on the cardigan.

“And…?” you ask with an expectant smile.

“I like it”, he concedes and smiles back at you. “It feels rather rejuvenating”.

“Ah, famous last words of the shopaholic”. You wink at him and earn a laugh. It’s a glorious, warm sound.

When he continues to struggle with the buttons (it’s almost as if he’s not quite used to the size and movements of his own hands), you gingerly step forward to help him, and he lets you, arms falling to his side. You slowly button up the cardigan without looking into his face, but you’re acutely aware of his breath tickling your eyelashes. Who knew putting clothes on someone could be this tantalizing? Your lower arm grazes his abdomen, and there’s a definite change in the rise and fall of his chest that assures you that whatever this little semi-flirty scenario is, he’s into it as well.

Still, best not to tempt faith and earn a bad review for being a thirsty shopgirl.

Mentally forcing yourself to Stop. Touching. The. Man, you instead go to grab a black leather belt from a basket near the counter that would go well with the jeans. “Try this” You hand the belt over the curtain to the changing room, where Paul’s now pulling one of the other t-shirts over his head, and for the next half hour or so, the two of you chat easily as he tries on more jeans (the slim fit works best, you promise him, perhaps a little too heartedly), and you keep throwing new items of clothing at him. Closing time has come and gone, but you couldn’t care less. You want to drag out this weird encounter for as long as you can.

Every time you make him laugh you feel like you’ve won a prize. And he appears to be enjoying your company too, indulging your every stylist impulse and asking questions about where you’re from, your work (freelance writer) and your travels.

And he genuinely listens. Part of the job, you think to yourself, taking confessions and acting like the town’s charity psychologist (okay, maybe a bit harsh). But still, the way he looks at you makes you feel like you’re special. Like he’s seeing something in you he can’t quite pinpoint himself.

You try to ask about his life as well, but other than telling you that he’s the priest of a very small island and what the community is like in general terms (hardworking fishermen struggling to preserve their livelihood, a place where no one locks their doors), you get a feeling that he’s delicately evading your questions, turning the conversation back to you at every opportunity.

Maybe priests are just not used to talking about themselves? Or it’s perceived as arrogance. Either way, the layer of mystery is not exactly making him any less interesting, if that’s what he’s going for. Men underestimating the power of female intuition is a tale as old as time.

“So, is there a lucky someone waiting for you when you get back?”, he asks at one point coming out from the changing room. His hair has become ruffled in a very endearing way, and he’s definitely giving the lining of the new sweater he’s wearing a little more attention than seem warranted. You make an effort not to smirk.

My, my, Father. Not so sly after all.

“No”, you reply, and when he looks up, you’d swear he just stifled a smirk himself. “I’m free as a bird”.

“A little swallow”, he says. “Coming home for spring”. Had any other strange man called you ‘little”, you would have found it condescending, but dammit if you’re not blushing again. Somehow it doesn’t feel like there’s a patronizing bone in his body. He’s just truly sweet and if this had been a date, you would be mentally preparing his breakfast by now. You can’t remember the last time you sparked with a guy in this way.

Isn’t it ironic, don’t you think, a little too ironic…?

Finally, he’s left with three pairs of jeans, a belt, a couple of t-shirts and three sweater cardigans, and your heart sinks as your time with him is running out. He keeps the grey jeans and a long-sleeved, dusty blue t-shirt on (he’s not put the collar back on, you notice with a last tinge of intrigue), and you give him a separate bag for the Halloween costume, secretly hoping he’ll just throw it away.

He pays for the items in cash, not seeming to worry about or even notice the amount. Being a countryside priest obviously pays better than you would have thought.

“Thank you so much for your help. I feel bad for having made you keep the place open for me, and-”

“Really, it was no trouble. I enjoyed it”, you interrupt him.

You smile at each other as he lingers by the counter, folding the receipt once, twice between his fingers before shoving it in his pocket. Outside it’s gone dark, but you’re not even thinking about the walk back to the hostel. The universe has shrunk to just the two of you and a very loaded silence.

“I’ll … walk you out”, you say, not at all wanting to but not knowing what else to do either. Although there are only a few paces to the door so really, it’s totally silly. He nods, those brown eyes studying your face with a touch of melancholia. He collects himself. “Okay, yes, I should be headed back too…”

You step around the counter, coming to stand in front of him; you have to push past him to get to the entrance of the store, but now you can’t get yourself to move an inch. Neither can you make yourself meet his eyes seeing as you might throw your arms around his neck and bury your fingers in his curls if he smiles at you just one more time.

The mental image fills your brain when he slowly puts down both bags and reaches for you. An involuntary shiver runs through you, and he pulls his hand back from your arm as if you’d slapped him. “Sorry! I’m so sorry”, he begins but you don’t let him finish the sentences, stepping into his arms and putting a finger to his lips. “Shh, don’t. It’s okay”, you hush him and his hands find your waist, pulling you to him. His eyes drop to your lips. “We shouldn’t…I want to, I do, but it shouldn’t happen…it’s too risky”, he mumbles.

Absurdly, it feels like the sexiest thing you’ve ever had a man say to you. There’s a new hoarseness to his voice and he’s flexing his jaw. He’s clearly trying to exercise restraint, but at the same time his thumbs brush against the soft, exposed skin between your t-shirt and jeans. “Because of the collar, I know”, you offer softly, licking at the forbidden fruit. He looks back to your eyes like you pulled him out of a daydream. “Uh, yes, also that…”.

Also? What is he-

His hands grip your waist tighter, but instead of waiting to find out if it’s meant as a last squeeze before letting you go, or if he’s decided to throw caution to the wind, you crane your neck up and kiss the side of his throat – mainly because you can’t reach his mouth. He inhales sharply and freezes.

But he doesn’t say no.

You breathe in the smell of his skin and feel his pulse beat fast, and while weaving your fingers into his hair you kiss him again. He doesn’t resist when you pull his face down towards you so you can kiss his jawline, his cheekbone… When your lips lightly touch the side of his mouth, he snaps back to life, taking your face in his large hands and capturing your mouth in a kiss. It’s almost chaste at first, like he’s not sure if you’ll pull away, but when you press your body against his, it quickly turns into something richer, greedier.

When you part your lips, his tongue smoothly enters your mouth, and you moan a little with surprise and lust. One hand still cupping your face, his other travels down your side, fingers tracing your curves until your scalp prickles with sensations. He doesn’t stop though, and you gasp into his mouth when his hand slides under your t-shirt and starts making it way upwards again. His touch is so feather light, it makes you throb with desire for him to just grab you and throw you up onto one of the display tables. When you tighten your grip in his hair, a chuckle rumbles through his chest.

His fingers graze the lace of your flimsy bra, and he hesitates and breaks the kiss. “Are you sure…?” His eyes are hooded. Has he done this before? “Yes”, you whisper. “Please put your hands on me �� Father”. Even as you’re adding the holy title, you wonder if it’s too much, too sacrilegious, but turns out it’s the magic word. Paul growls – actually growls – and buries his face in your neck while his fingers push under the bra to explore your breast. His other hand is firmly on your lower back, keeping you in place against him, and you throw your head back when he starts drawing circles around your hardening nipple in a way that leaves little doubt that he’s had at least some prior experience with a woman’s intimate anatomy. He nibbles at your neck, and you’re sure your underwear is already soaked. But you want to do something for him before…

At first, he looks confused when you softly push him away and his hand leaves your breast, but when you smile teasingly up at him and place your palm on his chest, he obligingly takes a few steps back until he’s up against the counter. His breath hitches in his throat when you reach for the buttons of his jeans, and he grabs your wrists. “Y/n, I don’t think … ”, he stammers, but you fix him a calm, yet defiant look.

“This is happening, Paul”, you say matter of fact, hoping your boldness won’t be a turn off.

For a few seconds you look into each other’s eyes, waging a silent war of wills. And for his part, reason, perhaps. Maybe there’s an order to which things are more sinful than others with heavy petting considered a forgivable slip, whereas…

Then the crinkles around his eyes return.

“Yes ma’am”.

He lets go of your wrists and you kneel in front of him, keeping eye contact while slowly unbuttoning his jeans. You deliberately lick your lips just to watch him gasp and his eyes go black. He’s gripping the edge of the counter. You pull the jeans down and are met with his large erection, barely contained by his black boxers (seemingly new as well). When you lick the stretched fabric, he hisses between his teeth in a way that makes the heat pool between your own legs. Deciding for both your sakes not to tease him unnecessarily, you tug at his underwear, freeing his length. You swallow at the size of it, but you can manage. Ain’t no mountain high enough, right?

You smile devilishly up at him as you stroke him with both hands and get a kick out of his hypnotized eyes. He’s lost in your ministrations, while gripping the counter so hard his knuckles go white. When you trace the underside of his cock with your tongue, he growls loudly and closes his eyes briefly, and you feel almost certain that while he may have been with a woman before, this is his first blowjob. You let your tongue swirl around the head of his cock, and he positively mewls, making you smile around him.

When you finally take him into your mouth as far as you can, he yelps and grabs your hair, and you start moving slowly, still caressing him with your tongue and sucking lightly. Though he keeps hold of a fistful of your hair, he doesn’t try to steer your movements, as some guys have a nasty habit of doing, or push himself deeper, but stays as still as he can.

You have one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, moving in sync with your mouth, and the other is grabbing his thigh. His muscles are tight under your palm, but when you suck a little harder, a spasm runs through his body, and he moans. His fingers twitch in your hair, and you can feel his cock throbbing harder. You know you have to stop soon if you want to him to last longer, and you need to feel him inside you. His breathing is fast and shallow when you remove your mouth from him, and the look on his face feral as he pulls you to your feet, lifts you up and puts you down on the counter.

“My turn”, he rasps, pulling your t-shirt over your head and making quick work of unhooking your bra. He kisses your neck, your collarbone, the curve of your breast and you arch your back into his touch. He takes your left nipple into his mouth and teases it with his tongue, before moving on to bestow the same attention to the right one while unbuttoning your jeans with one hand.

He’s radiating body heat like a furnace, and you moan in anticipation when he pulls your jeans down. You wriggle to help him tug them all the way off, and he kneels between your legs, planting soft kisses up the insides of your thighs while hooking his hands under your knees and pulling you to the edge of the counter. When he gets to your panties, his breath hot on the damp fabric, you’re the one gripping his hair tightly and feeling your legs quiver (the fact that today of all days you chose to put on your sexier, matching underwear must surely have been spurred on by a sense of divine premonition).

Only when he pulls the garment down your legs and tosses it aside do you remember that the lights in the store are still on. Anyone who were to walk by outside would be able to see you.

He doesn’t have his collar on, but still.

“Paul”, you pant before he can bury his face between your legs again. “The lights. We have to turn off the lights”. His eyes are so hazy with desire that he looks at you like you’re speaking a foreign language, but then he comes to and stands up, pulling his boxers and jeans with him. “Right”, he says, comically businesslike. “Where?” “On the wall to the left of the entrance”. You point and he quickly shuffles over and flips the switch, leaving the room in near darkness, the weak glare from the streetlamps outside turning the space into a cave of strange shadows. At least you’re not as visible as before and no way are you dragging him to the stale back office.

It’s not that dark that you can’t appreciate the look of him when he positions himself between your legs again, his hair a mess and his face flushed, and you eagerly help him pull his t-shirt over his head before he kneels once again and pushes your legs wider apart, his fingers digging into the flesh on your thighs. You shiver as your most intimate parts are exposed, but then his warm mouth is on you, and you nearly cry out when his tongue parts your slick folds, then lightly taps at your clit before engulfing it in a deep, wet kiss. You whimper, and he looks up at you with an expression so unashamedly lascivious, it seems impossible to you that this is a man whose job requires him to place little pieces of dry bread directly in the mouths of young, kneeling women and keep a straight face.

He reaches a hand up to cup your jaw, then trace your mouth, and you lick and bite at his fingers as he gets back to lapping at you. When his tongue finds your clit again and sucks, you moan loudly and lean all the way back on the counter, so dizzy from his touch the room might as well be upside down. That is nothing, however, compared to the sensation when Paul carefully inserts first one, then two fingers into your soaked core, and moves them slowly in and out, stretching you and curling the tips ever so lightly to massage that magical spot. A third finger is added. Who taught this guy?! He twirls his tongue around your clit and reduces you to a shaking mess, your orgasm building quickly.

“Paul!” you gasp, but he puts an arm across your abdomen to keep you securely in place. You so want to feel him, feel his cock inside you as well, but he shows no signs of stopping, and you’re so close you can’t muster any protests. A few more adept flicks of his tongue against your most sensitive spot combined with quicker thrusts with his fingers, and the priest makes you come harder than you ever have before. The ceiling of the store disappears in blinding white light, and you thrash on the counter as he keeps moving his fingers inside you, driving your orgasm higher still until it feels like you’re going to pass out from sensitivity.

You’re so out of it, you don’t notice him standing up before he pulls out his fingers, and you feel something else, something larger press against your entrance. You push yourself up on your elbows and try to focus on him, and he leans forward and kisses you on the mouth, his hand coming up to cradle your neck. He leans his forehead against yours. “You’ve been such a good girl, so good. But I’m afraid I’m not quite done with you yet”, he whispers huskily. “Don’t worry, I promise I’ll do most of the work, okay?”.

You can only nod, and he smiles a little triumphantly (oh, he’s pleased with himself, that’s for sure), letting you lie down on your back again before grabbing hold of your hips. You’re still in the last throes of your orgasm when he pushes into you, and your walls spasm around his length, provoking a guttural sound from deep within his chest. “You feel amazing”, he gasps in between thrusts that rapidly become deeper, harder.

Little beads of sweat glisten on his brow, and you wrap your legs around his waist, and try not to drown in pleasure – it feels like he’s intent on fucking you from one orgasm to the next with no recovery in between, and when he places a hand over your swollen clit, you cry out from oversensitivity.

It’s almost too much, but he’s not letting you go, snapping his hips against you while continuing to work you with his fingers as well. Your helpless moans make him flash you a wolfish grin, despite his obvious efforts to not lose control himself, and when you try to reach for him, to pull him down for a kiss, he removes his hand from your hip and instead seizes hold of your wrists to pin them both over your head. He doesn’t slow his thrusts, nor does his fingers (his incredible fingers!) stop massaging your clit when he leans over you. “You will stay there and come for me again”, he drawls. “I’m breaking my sacred vows for your pleasure, so you better believe I’m going to make you scream for me. Over and over”.

Oh god, is he gearing up for a marathon? That’s what you get for seducing a priest with decades worth of repressed sexual urges. If he wasn’t so fantastically good at what he was doing to you, you might have been slightly worried. As it is, you have no braincells left to worry about anything but whether or not it will be embarrassing if you faint from orgasming next. Then he increases the pressure against your little nub and you think you may not have a choice in the matter.

Paul’s eyes stay locked on your face as he fucks you, and when he licks his teeth, you have a crazy thought that he’s actually going to sink them into you. He doesn’t. Instead, he lowers his head to whisper into your ear: “You’re mine tonight, as I’m yours”. “Yes … Father”, you manage between gasps, and immediately feel him tense up. His thrusts become more erratic. “Say that again”, he growls. “Yes, Father”, you oblige, breathlessly. “Please punish me for tempting you”.

Paul lets go of your wrists and straightens up again to grip your hip, slamming into you so hard, you can’t say anything else. That is until he changes his angle just so, pressing down on your sex, and you come undone with a scream, sending papers, pens and an unopened box of ties flying down from the counter (thankfully, there are only empty offices above the store). Paul follows you immediately after and groans as he spills himself inside you.

He lets go of your hips and instead supports himself on the counter, and for a long while the only sounds in the store are those of your collective hard breathing.

Splayed out in front of him, skin flushed and glistening with sweat, you’re not sure you remember how to use any of your limbs, but when Paul pulls up his pants and then scoops you up in his arms, you slowly come alive. Lifting you like you weigh nothing, the priest carries you to one of the larger display tables covered with sweaters where, freeing one hand while still holding you with the other, he pushes a stack of the soft garments onto the carpet. “Don’t worry, I’ll buy them all if we leave a stain on them”, he mumbles into your hair. Then he sets you down on your feet but keeps hold of your hand (your legs are seriously wobbly) while he arranges the sweaters as if he were laying out a picnic blanket. “Here, come relax”, he motions for you to join him on the floor, and you happily take the invitation to lie down.

You curl up on the sweaters, and Paul drapes one of them over you. “Hmm, no that won’t do”, he says, seeing how little the garment covers. “But this…” He gets up and pulls a large coat from a hanger nearby.

Lying down next to you, he pulls the coat over the both of you (well, mostly you), and you snuggle into his side, not caring that you’re both slightly sticky. Paul adjusts so he can put his arms around you, and kisses your cheek. You have lost all track of time, but it matters not. Everything about this, him, feels more real, more intimate than any one-night stands or dates you’ve been on in ages. Maybe ever.

“This was most unexpected”, Paul murmurs, and you smile against his chest. “You know, these services simply come with any purchase of more than three items”, you say. He chuckles and nips at your shoulder.

Now that you've caught your breath, your curiosity demands a couple of answers to a couple of hundred questions, but he speaks first:

“I’m not going to forget this. Or you”. His voice is so tender, it wraps itself around your heart. Suddenly it feels like a tragedy of Jack and Rose’esque proportions if he simply walks out of the store and out of your life. “When are you flying back?” you ask and don’t fail to notice how he hesitates for just a beat before answering. “In a week or so. I hope. I have some final, er, logistics to work out”.

“Logistics?”

You shouldn’t prod him, it’s none of your business. And if he wanted to see you again before leaving, he’d probably say so himself. But you can’t help it. Again, there’s a pause, and you’re becoming fairly certain that he’s either coming up with a story about why he doesn’t have time to check in with you again, have a nice life, bye, bye, or that he’s up to some kind of shady business.

What would that be, though, him being a priest and all?

“Ha!” a voice in your head scoffs.

“A priest? Devout? He just bought a bunch of clothes suited for a lead guitarist turned cool playwright without so much as looking at the prices, and then proceeded with great expertise to give you two consecutive orgasms on the counter of your place of work. You have absolutely no idea who this man is”.

“Paul”. You twist in his arms so you can look up at his face before he can say anything. Or tell you a lie. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business. I’m just nosy by nature”. You smile, and he exhales a little. “But”, you continue, “give it to me straight: Are you actually a priest or did you just spin a little story to see if I had a secret fetich?”

Paul stares at you with a completely blank expression for what feels like a good long minute.

Then he bursts out laughing. Really laughing.

“Oh, y/n, no, don’t worry about that. I’m a priest alright. Even if I haven’t made for a very convincing one for the past few hours”.

He tries to put on a serious face, perhaps even reaching for a bit of remorse for good measure, but he can’t stop laughing.

He rolls onto his back. “I’m so sorry for the confusion. You have every right to be suspicious”. He shakes his head. “I don’t even know why I’m laughing! This is so inappropriate, truly, I’m so sorry. I think I just…I can’t remember when I last felt this good”. He turns his face to you, and you pop yourself up on one elbow, looking down into his eyes. They’re endlessly kind. Confused, yes. Hiding something, abso-fucking-lutely.

But above all else, kind.

He’s a man who means well. Although you’re old enough to know that that doesn’t guarantee he knows what well means.

“What made you change your mind about this, then?" You wan't to know.

Paul looks to the ceiling while seemingly mulling over his answer.

“I saw you, and I wanted you", he says simply, and you're taken aback by the raw honesty (if that's what it is).

“You mean you wanted to see if you could?"

He looks back at you, and there's a glint in his eyes telling you that he knew.

He knew he could.

Reaching up to twist a strand of your hair around his finger, he gently pulls at it so you'll lower your face to his. “I am a priest. And as such I shouldn’t have...courted temptation. To say that I haven’t been feeling like my old self lately would be an understatement, but it’s true, nevertheless. My time here in this country has opened my eyes in many ways, made me see both myself and my purpose clearer. Perhaps that’s also why this”, he lifts his chin and kisses you, “feels somehow part of the larger picture".

He's being deliberately, infuriatingly cryptic, but there’s a look of gentle wonder and boyish optimism in his brown eyes that complicates the urgent question of whether you should surrender your soul or get up, grab your panties and run away from what may be a potentially thorny midlife crisis of faith.

Buy new wardrobe, check. Fuck pretty young thing, check.

Perhaps the “logistics” he has to work out is how to get his new sports car through customs.

He lifts himself up a little to kiss the tip of your nose. Man sure knows how to play irresistibly cute, the manipulative devil in disguise he may be.

“Okay then, Father”, you sigh. “You don’t owe me the whole story. Although”, you narrow your eyes at him playfully, “I can smell it’s a juicy one”.

A very strange look passes over Paul’s face, but then he pulls you in for another kiss and you forget about it when his tongue invades your mouth. Before you know it, you’re lying on top of him, kissing him heatedly while his hands roam down your naked body. He’s still wearing the jeans, but you can feel him growing hard again. When you reach for the buttons, he flips you on your back, straddling you. “So eager”, he says, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Maybe I should restrain you, so I can better toy with you…”.

His words make you ache between your legs, as if you weren’t already wet enough from his cum. “Wait there”. Paul gets up and points his finger at you, then goes to pick up something from the floor over by the counter. When he comes back, he places one knee on either side of your body. He has a cardboard box in his hands.

The unopened box of ties.

///

When you and Paul leave the store sometime just before the night gives way to dawn, the world as you know it has stopped existing. Replaced instead with a world in which being naked with your hot priest is the be all and end all.

You don’t even know how many orgasms he gave you. Your brain is mushy from sex, your body pliable as a ragdoll. You haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday, but you don’t feel hungry. You lock the front door to the store, and the two of you walk along the empty cobblestone streets, his arm slung around you like it always belonged there, the shopping bags swinging by his other side. To outsiders, you’d look like a loved-up couple with tellingly unruly tresses and clothes slightly askew. He’s offered to walk you to your hostel, but the short way is blessedly long and winding when you stop to make out every other block. You don’t know how you’ll be able to let him go. It feels like you’re starring in a surreal, very R-rated version of one of your favorite movies, ‘Before Sunrise’.

“So, tell me, do you actually have a secret priest fetich?” Paul squeezes your shoulder as you walk past a small church. “All girls do,” you say, looking innocently up at him and loving the way he raises his eyebrows at you. “Sorry to break it to you, Father, but you can’t be all tall, dark and handsome and go around asking people to confess their dirty desires to you without earning yourself a few groupies”.

He laughs and shakes his head. “For the sake of my once revered professional credibility, which has been somewhat dented as of late, I’ll admit, I hope I can limit the number of groupies to just the one going forward”. He nuzzles your hair with his nose.

You run a finger along the waistband of his jeans. “Trust me, this slim fit is going to bring your entire island congregation to their knees”.

He almost chokes.

“Just wait and see. People will be banging at your door at all hours for private ‘advice’”. You shoot him a lecherous smile.

“I’ll…have to take my precautions, then”. If he’s trying to suppress his smirk, he’s doing a very poor job of it.

“Perhaps I should come with you. Protect you from the screaming masses, you know”. You regret the words as they leave your mouth, even if you’re half joking. Problem is, the other half is showing.

If he wants to see you, he’ll just say so.

Paul stops and puts the bags down so both his arms are free to wrap around you. You brush a lock of curly black hair out of his face. “What am I going to do with you?”, he muses quietly. He’s looking at you, but you know the conversation is between him and his conscience alone. Or something else.

You stand on tiptoes to brush your lips against his. “Hide me in your luggage and smuggle me onto the island”, you say, and nearly jump when he lets out a bark of laughter. It doesn’t sound like he’s all that amused, though. “No room, I’m afraid”. He caresses your cheek. A million different emotions seem to be swimming in his eyes, and you have no idea how to interpret any of them. You’ve only known him for a night.

“Oh well”, you say casually, shrugging your shoulders and trying not to even think of crying. “It’s probably for the best. If you kept me around, you’d end up telling me all your little secrets eventually. And then I guess you’d have to kill me”.

You swat a hand at his chest. He doesn’t move. Or blink.

“Yes”, he says, looking down at you with weird resolve. “I think I’ll have to”.

“What?” You laugh a little nervously, but then Paul’s face breaks into a dazzling smile, and all the shadows disappear. He hugs you tighter, and proceeds to kiss you so thoroughly, one large hand coming up to cup your chin, that you have to cling to his shirt not to lose your balance.

When he releases you, he presses his forehead to yours. “You are my little secret”, he whispers. You grab his hand. “Okay, Father. Let’s go then”.

You’re so high on endorphins that you don’t even notice when he leads you in the wrong direction down a dark alleyway.

Two months later.

You’re awoken by the shrill sound of your phone ringing next to your pillow. No; under your pillow. You’ve fallen asleep with it again.

God, your head is pounding, you’re so dehydrated. Without bothering to check the display, you pull the phone to your ear and answer it with a grunt.

“Hello, little swallow”.

His soft voice makes your heart leap straight into your throat. You sit up so fast you almost fall out of bed.

“Is it time?” you ask, trying to keep your voice calm. You close your eyes and imagine you can feel his warm breath in your ear.

“Yes ma’am”, comes the husky reply.

Alone in the dark of your room, you grin like an idiot.

Of course, he didn’t forget you. And now he’s finally calling you back to him.

“I’m coming … Father”.

---

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

PART II: The Night Father Paul Got Tied Up

You can find all my other Father Paul and John Tyler smut fics here:

MASTERLIST

#father paul #midnight mass #father paul smut #father paul x reader #father paul hill #midnight mass fanfiction #midnight mass smut #midnight mass spoilers #father paul fanfiction #hamish linklater #monsignor pruitt #priest smut #priest kink #hamish linklater x reader

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

Nie Huaisang is the cutest thing monsters have ever seen, they can be yao dragons or giant turtles one look at nhs and they want to feed hug or kidnapt him nmj trainning involved recovering his baby brother from every monsters nest around qinge

ao3

“I’m sorry,” Nie Mingjue said, his teeth gritted together and his arms shaking from the strain of holding Baxia up. “He’s mine.”

The massive tiger glared down at him over Baxia’s blade, currently stuck in its teeth, and growled something.

“I know,” Nie Mingjue said. His legs were shaking now, too. “I know, trust me, I know! I’m human, he’s – young, yes, yes, I know. But he’s my little brother! I’m not giving him up!”

The tiger spat out the blade, knocking Nie Mingjue backwards on his ass.

“And when you change your mind?” the tiger demanded. “Will you abandon him then?”

“No!” Nie Mingjue exclaimed. “Never! He’s my brother!”

“Mark your words,” the tiger said ominously. “Or else.”

It turned and stalked off, its tail waving arrogantly in the air, until its towering white form disappeared into the distance.

Nie Mingjue sighed in relief. “Huaisang?” he called, and a small head popped out of the nest the tiger had started building, blinking owlishly at him. “Come on, come to da-ge. It’s time to go home.”

“But Master Tiger said we were going to play…”

“Yes, well, he wanted to play for too long,” Nie Mingjue said. “Only a few centuries, give or take. Let’s go.”

It started back when Nie Huaisang was born.

No, more accurately, it started when Nie Mingjue’s father fell in love with someone he probably oughtn’t have, which according to the sect was not a terribly uncommon problem for him to have, and decided to bring home a bride.

Nie Mingjue could still remember the first time he’d seen the Second Madame Nie. They’d all been lined up to greet her, all the sect and close members of the clan in rows according to rank, Nie Mingjue fidgeting in the inside of the house proper in his first tangle with formal clothing outside of the discussion conferences. She had come sweeping in with her head held as high as a princess, seductive and bewitching.

Every movement had been perfect, the eyes of all the men fogging over in lust and the women in admiration – or visa versa, depending on their personal preferences – and a wicked smile had lit up her face when she had stepped across the threshold, officially becoming the sect leader’s wife, and maybe everything would have gone along with whatever plan she’d had back then if she hadn’t next seen him.

“Oh, look at you,” she exclaimed, rushing over to pinch Nie Mingjue’s cheeks between her hands. “What a delectable little morsel you are!”

“Uh,” Nie Mingjue said, staring up at her with big round somewhat-worried eyes.

“You charming little dumpling,” she said. “You adorable mouthful of meat! Spoonful of egg yolk!”

Nie Mingjue cast his eyes around to see if anyone would be willing to help him.

“My eldest son,” Nie Mingjue’s father said, not without pride – albeit perhaps a puzzled sort of pride. “He’s probably just about old enough to come to the forecourt, if you don’t want him to live with you –”

“Oh no,” she said. “He’s definitely living with me.”

And so she stayed, and Nie Mingjue stayed with her, and she doted on him in a way he found pleasant if mildly disconcerting. Within a year, she was pregnant, and irritated with it; six months after that, she was round and complaining, even though Nie Mingjue solemnly assured her that she was as beautiful as ever.

“This is your fault, you know,” she told him, and he blinked at her. “It is! Don’t get me wrong, your father’s a charming bull when he wants to be, and of course he fucks like a champion stud, but I stayed here for you, my little cabbage roll, my charming chunk of liver.”

She patted her belly.

“That means this here is all because of you. So you’d better take responsibility!”

Nie Mingjue considered the issue for a little. The argument seemed plausible, so he raised his hands and put them on her rounded stomach. “I will take care and watch over him for all my life,” he vowed, and the baby inside kicked his hand in response, sealing the pact.

“Oh you are so cute,” she said, pressing her hands to her cheeks. “My darling pork bun! My little fish cake! I could eat you right up, if only you were just a little bit older!”

When Nie Huaisang was born, she disappeared in a welter of blood, but Nie Mingjue’s oath remained.

The trouble started after that.

“You can’t raise a cub like that properly,” the winged lion argued, bating its wings as if that would help it make its point better.

Nie Mingjue glared at him. “Watch me!”

“It’s for your own good, little human. He needs his own kind –”

“I’m not listening to a treasure-seeker!”

The lion scowled at him. “I’ll have you know that most humans think I’m good luck!”

“You’re not trying to steal most humans’ little brothers, are you?!”

The winged lion sighed, a deep sound, so very noble and long-suffering that Nie Mingjue couldn’t resist the urge to lift his foot and kick the lion right in the paw.

“Brat!”

“Don’t care!” he shouted. “You leave my brother alone! He’s my responsibility, not yours! Piss off!”

“You can’t even feed him properly -”

“I’ll figure it out!” Nie Mingjue bared his teeth and wished he was old enough for a saber.

“You little…fine. Fine! I’ll bring you a book on how to feed a huli jing kit, and you keep to it, you hear me?”

“I will,” Nie Mingjue said. “But don’t you even think of taking him away!”

“On your own head be it,” the winged lion grumbled. “Not everyone’s as understanding as me.”

“Why are you wet?” Nie Mingjue’s father asked him.

“Water monkeys,” Nie Mingjue said shortly. “There was a nest.”

“Water monkeys? Don’t they normally stay away from people…? Or, I suppose, were these ones feral?”

“Thieves.”

“Ah. Well, nothing to be done about it, I suppose…bad luck for you to run into them here, of all places. But good experience! How many people your age can say that they fought water monkeys?”

“Can we go home?” Nie Mingjue asked, a little plaintively, and rubbed his nose. “How much can you really have to say to the Jiang sect, anyway?”

His father chuckled. “More than either of us would like, unfortunately. But if you’ve had enough of water, which no one can blame you for, maybe you and Huaisang can go shopping in the pier instead?”

That would work, Nie Mingjue thought, and nodded happily.

(Sect Leader Jiang was extremely embarrassed about the ghostly rats in the night-market – he claimed they’d never seen neither nose nor tail of them before the Nie brothers had accidentally tripped over their trap and had to flee from the swarm...)

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nie-er-gongzi,” the white-clad cultivator from the mountain said, smiling broadly and saluting deeply.

Xiao Xingchen had made himself famous during his first half-dozen night-hunts alone for his extraordinary grace, bearing and strength, and he said he was on a mission to help the world. He was beautiful, virtuous, and matched each ideal of gentlemanly arts.

Sects throughout the cultivation world were drooling at the thought of enticing him to join them, fighting for the opportunity to put in a good word with him.

Not all sects.

Nie Mingjue stepped forward, purposely putting Nie Huaisang behind him.

“Don’t you even think about it,” he said, hand on the hilt of his saber. “Buzz off, birdbrain.”

Xiao Xingchen might wear white, but Nie Mingjue knew a zhuque chick when he saw one.

“I found something for my aviary, da-ge!” Nie Huaisang, seven years old and delighted with his clumsy autonomy, announced.

Nie Mingjue, less than a full year into his new role as sect leader, rubbed his eyes. “Oh?” he asked, only somewhat wanting to scream endlessly into the void, which was better than usual. “That’s nice, Huaisang…”

“Come look! It’s so pretty!”

“I’m a bit busy –”

“But da-ge!”

Nie Mingjue sighed and got up, following Nie Huaisang to the door only to come to a complete stop.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he said to the fenghuang currently pretending to be a rooster in a cage, as if anyone would actually mistake phoenix flames for regular feathers. “Do you have no dignity left?!”

“You can’t adopt the bashe,” Nie Mingjue said to Nie Huaisang, who pouted. “It eats elephants; we’d be broke within three months.”

He turned to the giant python.

“You can’t adopt Huaisang,” he said. “I will literally murder you.”

“Why can’t I go watch the eclipse?” Nie Huaisang complained. “Everyone else is going!”

“I’m not risking a tiangou.”

“The…dog that eats the sun? Really, da-ge, is that even real?”

“You know what,” Nie Mingjue said, “you’re grounded just for saying that.”

Nie Huaisang grinned.

“Maybe I want to go and live among the qilin!” Nie Huaisang screamed, fourteen and hormonal about it.

“Well you don’t get a choice!” Nie Mingjue bellowed back.

“You’re not my father! I don’t have to listen to what you say!”

“I’m your fucking sect leader and yes you do!”

“I hate you!”

“I don’t care if you hate me! You still aren’t going to go live in a field with some magic pointy deer and that’s final!”

The qilin herd wisely chose to withdraw.

“Da-ge,” Jin Guangyao hissed, and Nie Mingjue looked up from his work at him – he hadn’t heard Meng Yao this upset since he’d shoved him into a closet to get him out of way during the whole dangkang boar hunt debacle. “Da-ge, there’s a dragon outside.”

“Again?” Nie Mingjue said, standing up to stretch and feeling oddly unbalanced. They’d just finished another session with the song of Clarity, so he really shouldn’t be feeling like this; he would need to write to Lan Xichen again about his fears that the treatment really wasn’t working. Lan Xichen would probably only say to give it more time, another chance, but still… “Let me go talk to them. Dragons are the worst.”

“No, da-ge, you don’t understand,” Jin Guangyao said. “It’s not a water-serpent or – or even a jiaolong – it’s a dragon.”

“A flood-dragon is a type of dragon,” Nie Mingjue said, following Jin Guangyao outside. “You know that, it’s in the name, what’s the big – oh, I see. It’s a celestial dragon.”

Jin Guangyao glared at him with an expression suggesting that he was under-reacting, but Nie Mingjue really didn’t have the capacity in him to reach with appropriate fervor at the moment. He and Nie Huaisang had been fighting a lot recently, every little thing escalating into a giant argument, and he was no longer sure if he was doing the right thing in trying to force Nie Huaisang onto the path of his ancestors. After all, unlike Nie Mingjue, Nie Huaisang had – somewhat different ancestors, on his maternal side.

And, he supposed, Nie Huaisang was old enough to decide otherwise, if he truly wished…

Still, Nie Mingjue was as stubborn as a mule and had no intention of giving up his baby brother without a fight, so he braced himself and went over to the frankly massive creature draped over the entrance gateway and much of the training yard that the entirety of the Nie sect was doing its utmost best to pretend that they weren’t seeing.

Nie Huaisang was sitting on the thing’s five claws – an imperial celestial dragon, apparently – because of course he was.

“Excuse me,” Nie Mingjue called up to the dragon, which turned its head to regard him, an entire production that took nearly a quarter ké to accomplish. “The brat there is mine, please return him.”

“Da-ge!” Jin Guangyao hissed again, but Nie Mingjue waved him away.

“You have raised him well,” the dragon said, which was…a good deal nicer than most of these interactions usually went.

“…thanks?” Nie Mingjue said suspiciously, ignoring Jin Guangyao’s splutters of “It talks?!” “I think?”

“I have chosen to grant you a boon,” the dragon announced.

“…right,” Nie Mingjue said. “If this ‘boon’ is that you’ll take him off my hands, I’m afraid I’m going to have to refuse. He may be trouble, but he’s still my brother.”

“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, indignant. “Don’t be rude. I asked him for this!”

Nie Mingjue frowned at him, unable to resist the feeling of hurt even though he’d already told himself to expect something like this. “…you want to leave?”

“No, da-ge, don’t be ridiculous. I asked him to improve your health!”

Ah.

“Huaisang –” he started to say.

“Don’t you ‘Huaisang’ me!” his little brother shouted. “I know you’re trying to hide it, but it’s getting worse, isn’t it? San-ge told me so! He said I should get ready!”

Nie Mingjue made a mental note to strangle Jin Guangyao, who had no right to say something like that to Nie Huaisang even if maybe it wasn’t the worst idea in the world to emotionally prepare Nie Huaisang for the upcoming bereavement and inheritance he would need to face.

“Anyway, he said to get ready, so I did!”

“You can’t just ask a divine dragon to fix me, Huaisang. That’s not how this works.”

“Uh, it totally does, and I did, and he agreed. So there!”

Nie Mingjue crossed his arms and glared. “And what did he want in return?”

“The boon is a reward for your past merit, not a trade for the deeds of the future,” the dragon said, not even slightly hiding how its whiskers were shaking with suppressed laughter. “You have travelled a difficult road, and borne the weight of it well. And besides…”

“Besides?”

“If you were to die, he would undoubtedly petition the creatures of the underworld to return you.”

“Well, fuck,” Nie Mingjue said, having not considered that. “Fine. Whatever. Heal me and I’ll try to keep an eye on my health going forward.”

Maybe more Clarity? He could try to free up his schedule, get in a few more sessions…

“I just give up,” Jin Guangyao said behind him. “I just fucking give up.”

Nie Mingjue, assuming that he was talking about Nie Huaisang’s nonsense, agreed whole-heartedly.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #nie huaisang's mom #my fic #my fics #child development #same headcanons as three times the charm #Anonymous

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tennessoui · 3 years

Note

49!!!!!! Please

finally!!!! baby, finally!!!!

49. Boss/Intern (35yo!Boss!Anakin, 19yo!Intern!Obi-Wan)

(2.4k)

Obi-Wan rubs his hands rapidly down his face. He feels distinctly like he’s about to burst into tears, which would be a very bad thing to do here and now. His supervisor had come in fifteen minutes ago to tell him everyone was going to lunch. She’d invited him along, but he’d said no.

He always says no.

Lunch for the rest of the office means he gets to have a scheduled breakdown at his little cubicle.

He just. He just doesn’t know anything.

He’s only had this internship at Temple Tech for one week and already he’s floundered and fucked up more than anyone else probably has put together in their lifetimes.

He shouldn’t have ever applied, but he had been getting so desperate for summer employment, any sort of employment and, yes, this internship was out of his career field, and yes, he did have to lie at least five times on his resume, but it was an internship and it was paid.

It had felt like a good idea at the time. But then he actually got the job by some stroke of hellish luck, and he’s been learning every day since that it was actually probably a terrible idea. The learning curve is too steep. Obi-Wan is trying, but wow is he bad at it. Tech. Data stuff.

On his open computer, the sound of an email pinging rushes through his ears and he takes his hands off of his face to look. It’s from Anakin Skywalker. The boss.

Obi-Wan thinks he can feel his fingers grow numb. His heart feels like it’s stuttering in his chest, like it’s about to stop once and for all.

Temple Tech is a start-up company, still small but growing quickly. At its head is thirty-five year old Anakin Skywalker, which shouldn’t be any sort of a problem because Obi-Wan’s nineteen now and he can keep it in his pants, even if Anakin is hot as hell, smart as well, and so terribly kind whenever they run into each other.

Which happens a lot. Because it’s a small company, operating out of one renovated warehouse turned office. The floor plan is open enough that Obi-Wan’s able to see Anakin’s space--he gets a proper office, as part of being the boss, but he’s chosen to make the walls glass so it doesn’t feel as if he’s cut off from everyone else--from across the room. And Anakin is big on making everyone who works with him feel like family. A lot of companies say they do that or support that, but Anakin actually does. For one thing, he tells them to call him Anakin, not Mr. Skywalker. For another, he’s open about his personal life, but not so much that it makes anyone feel uncomfortable.

He’s quick with a smile and so understanding, and if he ever gets mad—and from his stories of his younger days, Obi-Wan knows he must have a temper—it’s never been in public.

And Anakin has never commented on how often Obi-Wan blushes around him, or how hard it is for him to focus on his work if Anakin sits on the edge of his desk to talk with him. Or any of the other employees, Obi-Wan has had to remind himself many times. Even though Obi-Wan feels hypersensitive and like a schoolgirl whenever Anakin is in his general vicinity, Anakin is a professional. He’s Obi-Wan’s boss. Nothing could ever happen between them. Not while Obi-Wan works under Anakin.

Even if Anakin is so nice and so kind and has asked to meet him now when everyone else is out of the building. It’s not suspicious and it’s definitely not cause for concern of any kind.

He thinks about shooting back an email, confirming it, but he’s never been good at the whole office environment thing. Instead, he logs off his computer and stands up.

It’s a short walk to Anakin’s office, hardly enough time for his palms to get sweaty.

Anakin’s typing something when Obi-Wan enters the room and he looks up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan says, aghast when he realizes he’s forgotten to knock. “I’m sorry, I--”

“Obi-Wan, come in, please,” Anakin gives him a slight smile and gestures for him to sit on the couch next to his desk. Obi-Wan takes a seat hesitantly. It’s as soft as it’s always looked.

Anakin types for a few more seconds on his computer before pushing away from his desk all together and taking a seat next to Obi-Wan on the couch.

“I’ve noticed you never go out to lunch with your coworkers,” Anakin says, positioning himself so he’s facing Obi-Wan completely. His body language is open, like he’s read one of those business books on how to sit so everyone knows you’re nice but you have an agenda.

It puts Obi-Wan on edge, and he fidgets around on his seat.

“You’re not in trouble, b--Obi-Wan,” his boss murmurs. “I just want to know why. Do you not like them? Have they been mean to you?”

“No!” Obi-Wan denies immediately, looking up at Anakin and biting his lip when he sees that the man’s attention is fixed so squarely on him. “No, of course not. Everyone here has been amazing.” He widens his eyes and raises both eyebrows. “Really, sir.”

Anakin looks distinctly uncomfortable. “I’ve told you to call me Anakin,” he criticizes, and Obi-Wan blushes more.

He’s really messing this up.

“Sorry, sir, I mean. Anakin. Sorry. Anakin,” he coughs. His palms are sweaty. He’s sitting on his attractive boss’s couch when everyone’s gone on lunch, and his palms are sweaty.

He doesn’t even want anything to happen.

Alright, so that’s a lie. He definitely has spent a lot of late nights thinking about something happening between them, just like this, but those are fantasies and Anakin is his boss. More than that, Anakin is a good man. He’d never take advantage of an intern in that way, no matter how frequently Obi-Wan feels as if he’s walking around with a sign around his neck that says, Take Advantage of Me, Mr. Anakin, Sir!

“Why don’t you go to lunch with them, Obi-Wan?” Anakin asks softly, gently.

Obi-Wan’s hands clench down on themselves. It’s really the moment of truth, now. He really can’t keep lying, not when Anakin sounds so concerned. He has no right to be concerned! He shouldn’t care about Obi-Wan at all; hell, he shouldn’t even know him!

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he mumbles, staring down at the stretch of fabric on his knees.

Anakin hums. Obi-Wan wonders if he learned that from his fancy How to Run a Business books as well: don’t say anything, just let the other person talk until you know everything you need to know to crush them.

Damn if the silence doesn’t work to get Obi-Wan speaking again though.

“I...I’m behind on the work,” he admits. “I don’t have time to go to lunch because I need to figure out how to do my work.”

Anakin makes a sympathetic noise deep in his throat. “If...if your workload is too heavy, Obi-Wan, we can look into cutting it. I don’t want to be known as the company that runs its interns into the ground.”

Obi-Wan’s throat tightens too much and he shrugs. He can’t cry. He really shouldn’t cry. He did this to himself. “It wouldn’t help,” he whispers.

“What?” Anakin asks, leaning forward to hear him better.

“It wouldn’t help,” Obi-Wan says again, louder this time. Anakin blinks at him, and Obi-Wan finally tells him the truth. “I don’t know how to do any of this. I...I lied on my resume. I needed a job, for my student visa. I needed the money to keep it while not in school. And...and internships are supposed to look good on your resume, so I...I thought I could figure it out, I’m smart, sir, I’m so smart. I don’t know why I can’t figure it out.”

He drops his gaze to his hands again and breathes out shakily. He’d been carrying the weight of that secret for far longer than he should have been. It should have been a relief of the utmost degree to give it away. But instead he’s waiting for the punishment. Anakin will have to fire him now. Anakin might even get mad at him for lying.

When his boss doesn’t say anything for several long seconds, Obi-Wan chances a glance up at him through his lashes. Instead of anger on his face, there’s only a confused sort of sympathy.

“I’m...not sure I understand, Obi-Wan,” he says slowly. “You lied on your resume to get this internship, but...why couldn’t you have just applied to an internship in a different field? One you actually want to study? I know you like biology, you’ve told me more about biology in the past few weeks than you’ve told me about yourself.”

“None of them wanted me,” Obi-Wan sniffles and hates himself for it. “I tried, I promise. I promise I didn’t want to lie, but I needed the money, and this internship paid so much better than working at a coffeehouse would.”

Anakin puts his hand gently on his shoulder and Obi-Wan can’t stop himself from turning into the pressure of it. “It’s alright,” Anakin murmurs. “Oh no, please don’t--please don’t cry, b--Obi.”

“It’s Obi-Wan,” Obi-Wan wails.

Anakin hushs him. “Alright, Obi-Wan, alright. Let’s see what we can do.”

“You’re going to fire me,” he says with absolute certainty. He doesn’t even much like his job at Temple Tech, but how is he supposed to find another one on such short notice?

Anakin is quiet. He doesn’t say no.

“Look, I’ll try harder, I promise,” Obi-Wan stutters out, turning to look up at Anakin with wet eyes. What a picture he must make. Nothing professional about him at all. Nothing worth keeping around either. “I promise, please, don’t--I’ll--I’ll stay after hours, I’ll work late, come early. I need this job, sir.”

Anakin’s eyebrows furrow and he looks genuinely regretful, which is little comfort. “Obi-Wan, it’s not about...your work ethic. I promise, your work ethic is stronger and better than most of the people on my team.”

Obi-Wan wipes at his eyes hastily. He knows there’s a but coming soon.

“But I can’t...if you’ve lied on your resume, you can’t put Temple Tech there later. That’s not fair for anyone else who applied and was rejected in favor of you. The spot you have...I need someone there who knows what they’re doing with computers. Who wants to be there. Obi, it makes sense that you don’t know anything about tech. You never look like you really want to be here unless you’re talking to someone else.”

Obi-Wan’s bottom lip trembles and he can feel another wave of tears coming. “I understand, sir,” he mumbles, standing up and preparing to leave the office and Anakin Skywalker behind forever. He’s never been fired before. He doesn’t know what the decorum really is in this situation.

Being tugged back and into his boss’ arms doesn’t feel like how it normally goes, though.

But he can’t resist melting into Anakin’s tight hug, rubbing his cheek on the man’s nice shirt. He wants to give him something to remember him by, even if it’s just tear stains on expensive cotton.

“Lemme help you,” Anakin suddenly says, voice very gruff. Obi-Wan freezes in his arms and tilts his head to try and see Anakin’s face. Help him?

“I don’t understand,” he admits, biting his lip.

“I like you, Obi-Wan,” Anakin confesses. “I do. I’ll be sad to see you leave. I was already going to be sad to see you leave when your internship concluded, but this is much sooner. I…”

He trails off as if trying to make up his mind. It doesn’t take him long to nod to himself.

“Be honest,” he warns him, but there’s a joking lilt to his voice. Obi-Wan, personally, thinks that’s a little too soon. “Do you know how to clean house?”

Obi-Wan pulls out of Anakin’s arms to stare at him.

“Or walk dogs,” Anakin adds.

Slowly, Obi-Wan nods. Cleaning up a house and walking dogs feels like something he can figure out how to do. Feels pretty self-explanatory for the most part. The only thing he’s confused by is why Anakin is asking this of him.

“Would you...that is, just for the rest of the summer, until your classes start again--how would you feel about cleaning my house? And walking my dogs?” Anakin seems to hold his breath.

Obi-Wan feels like he’s stepped into the Twilight Zone or something.

“You’re...firing me,” he says slowly. “But...you’re offering me a job? As your….maid?”

“‘We should call it housekeeper,” Anakin says quickly, a pained look flashing across his face. “Too...many connotations with maid.”

“Why?” he has to ask. “I mean. I lied to you, sir. I...you’re firing me.”

“Because I need someone in that position who knows what they’re doing,” Anakin explains slowly.

“Do you want me in another position, sir?” Obi-Wan asks. He blushes furiously as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

Anakin’s eyes darken and he clears his throat. He doesn’t say no, and his silence, the double entendre of his silence, makes the breath catch in Obi-Wan’s throat.

“You said you needed money to keep your visa,” Anakin says. “I’m trying to offer you an honest means of employment. I need someone to keep up my house and walk my dogs. If you can do it, I’d hire you over anyone else in a second.”

“Why?” Obi-Wan whispers, suddenly so very aware of how close they’re still standing to each other, how nice Anakin smells, how handsome he looks with just the beginning of a silver streak at his temple.

Anakin sweeps his gaze over Obi-Wan’s face and chest, and Obi-Wan has to wonder what he sees there. Whatever he does, he must like because he smirks. “Work ethic,” he murmurs.

#probably the next sentence out of obi-wans mouth is 'can you wait like fifteen minutes before you hire me after you fire me'#and anakin is like 'why'#and obi-wan is like 'so i can blow you and have you not be my boss'#and anakin is like 🤭😳😏👀 'baby you can have forty-five'#asks #prompt fill #cant believe i turned kinky boss/intern prompt #into just as kinky maid/boss prompt tbh #anakins about to start working from home a lot more #obikin #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker

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127-mile · 3 years

Text

Alice in the land of horrors.

Pairing: player!Jaehyun x player!fem!reader.

Genre: Alice in Borderland, strangers to lovers / fluff, angst, mature content.

Warnings: Violence, blood, explicit and non-explicit deaths, injuries, survival games, weapons, smut (oral (male receiving), marking, riding, unprotected sex (be smart kids), coming inside).

Plot: Welcome, as you might have noticed, the world as we know has changed after yesterday's total blackout. To survive, you will have to participate in life-size deadly games or you will be disintegrated. Be ready to kill, to sacrifice what you love the most in order to survive. Good luck.

Jaehyun is one of the few survivors in town, and unlike you who are more than willing to hurt and kill to find your way back to your family and roommates, he is a little more fragile when it comes to this. But together, you make a pretty good team.

Word count: +12.4k.

A/N: You don’t have to know the show or the manga to read, see this as big escape games. I am not using the characters from the show, so no spoilers about them.

Chapter one: Meeting the lonely soul.

You do not know why you are here, you just needed some fresh air, you were not expecting to stumblr across a game zone. You watch, head cocked to the side, wondering what the game was that night. A man steps out of the play zone, he is covered in blood, and even from your place across the street, you can see how bad he is shaking. For a second, you wonder how he can still walk. He whispers something between his teeth, and when he walks past you, he does not even realize he pushed you, nearly tripping you on the sidewalk.

After a few days in this world, you know there is no need to worry about someone else, and yet, you turn around.

"Do you need help?" you ask, and it takes a minute for the man to realize you are talking to him. He stops, and he looks at you. In his eyes, you read nothing but hear, sadness and so much fatigue that your heart breaks a little. In this world, it's everyone on their own, and yet, you approach him, and put your hand on his shoulder. He flinches at the sudden contact, but after a few seconds, he relaxes and looks into your eyes. "Are you okay?"

The man shakes his head, and his eyes fill with tears, and you find yourself confused for a moment, not knowing what to do with the stranger. "So much blood." he whispers in such a low voice that you have to bring your face close to his to hear him. His smell is metallic, the smell of blood, and sweat. "I did not mean to do this." he says in a slightly louder voice, and you take his hands in yours, not worrying about the blood. "You didn't have a choice. We don't have a choice, we have to survive."

"Survive? But what is the point of surviving?" you do not really have the answer, and no one does to be honest. All you know is that everyone wants to live, that survival is once again the most important thing. "We all have a reason to survive, and you have to find yours. Once you have it, killing won't seem so bad, trust me." your family and your roommates are the only reasons you've done so much harm since you found yourself here, and it is your family and roommates who will push you to go through the other games.

"Where are you staying?" you ask him, and the man seems to think about it for a moment. "Nowhere. I rest when I can, and where I can until the next game." he whispers, and you sigh as you look around. Other players are also exiting the game zone, and all of them are covered in blood as well. But neither is in the same state as the stranger, they all knew they had no choice than to do whatever they did in there. "Come with me."

"Why?" he asks, and you understand his hesitation, you would have done the same if some random stranger had offered to follow them. "I have no reason to hurt you. Killing each other outside of the games won't help us end it, or to find a reason for everything that happened." you say, poiting to the deserted city around you. "We have to stay together, and help each other as much as possible." the man sighs, and he nods. "My name is Y/n, by the way."

"Jaehyun." he answers.

Chapter two: Three of Spades.

"Where are you going?"

You jump when you hear Jaehyun's voice, and you turn to the man whose eyes are still half closed. When he sits up in bed, the blanket slips off his shoulders, and you grimace when you see the bandage covered in blood. Three days before, when you met him, the blood he was covered with was not only that of other players, but also his. He cut himself while passing through a broken window, and it was difficult to stop the blood from flowing without the help on any medical skills. But you did it. After he passed out.

"My *visa* ends today." you say, and that seems to be enough for the young man who sits up on the edge of the bed, ignoring the sudden nausea that threatens to make him throw up. "What do you think you are doing, young man?" you ask narrowing your eyes, and he shrugs his shoulders before growling at the throbbing pain. "I am coming with you." you shake your head, laughing softly, and you take your backpack which you swing on your shoulders. "Your visa does not end for two more days, so you are going to stay here and rest, you'll have plenty of time to find another game later."

*visa: the visa, and the number of days left on it is what allow you to stay alive, you have to play to earn more days, or you’ll be killed.*

"I don't want you to go alone." Jaehyun mumbles and sighs. "Jaehyun, it's going to be fine, I'll do everything I can to come back after the game. I'd rather you stay here and get some rest." The young man pouts, but it is not enough to change your mind. "Eat something, and drink a lot of water. You cried like a baby yesterday, you need to rehydrate your body." the mention of the night before is enough to make Jaehyun blush prettily. "That's a low blow."

"Whatever, see you later." you walk down the stairs to the back door of the shopping mall you found yourself a few hours after waking up alone. You are not one to steal, but you thought that the mall was the best place to get food, a bed, and items you could need. It is huge, and even if other survivors could break in in the middle of the night, you feel quite safe in there. At least, you had a pharmacy on the floor below when you brought Jaehyun back. You do not know if he would still be alive without it.

The door is locked from the inside, and you get the padlock off of the only chain you found to keep the door closed. The air outside is warm and stuffy, and the sun is slowly setting, which means the next game is about the be announced. It only takes a few minutes for you to find the first light signs showing the way to the new game zone. And when you finally get there, beads of sweat are sliding down your spine. You frown.

You are in front of a theme park.

Several players are already waiting on the other side of the security gates, their eyes riveted on their phones, impatiently for the registrations to close and the rules to be given. You go through the gates, and you hear the little click as you pass the lasers that will prevent you from going out before the end of the game. You avoid the curious looks of some of the players, and you pick up a phone.

Immediately, the facial recognition is done, and on the screen, you see that your visa is at 0, and you also see the card. Three of Spades. The cards of Spades show that the game will be a physical one, and the number indicates that the difficulty level is three. It's good, you've had worse before, it will certainly be a snap, you think.

Behind you, you hear footsteps, and when the last phone is retrieved, the speakers sizzle around you. "Registration is closed, wait for the rules." the mechanical voice says, and you take a big gulp of warm air. You are startled when you feel a hand resting on your shoulder, and when you are ready to attack, Jaehyun turns around to face you. "What are you doing here?" you ask, and he shrugs. "I told you, I don't want you to play alone."

"Fucker." you mumble, you should have tied him to the bed frame. The mechanical voice comes back. "The purpose of the game is to run away from the mascots. Find the exit to the park before the mascots find you, and you will clear the game. The game ends when all the players are dead, or have escaped. You have 30 minutes." Jaehyun sighs as he digs his hands into the pocket of his jacket. "See, it's only a little race, it was a good idea to come." if the countdown had not started, you would have gladly slapped him on his injured shoulder to make his regret his words, and all of his decisions.

Before all the players start running, all the phones ring one after the other, and you frown, looking at the screen. A mesage is displayed there. "Weapons are strewn around the park, you can use them." you bite your lower lip while turning your head towards Jaehyun who seems much less confident. "If we have weapons, the mascots have them too." the young man growls, throwing his head back, and with one accord, you both start to run.

Running is not a difficult task, what is difficult is running in the heat. "Have you been here before?" Jaehyun asks you, and you nod. "A few times, but when I was very young." you know the park has had changes done since you were a child, so you can't trust your memory to find the exit. "We should find the park's map, and grab one or two weapons just in case." Jaehyun is okay with that, and he sidesteps an attraction whose lights make him blind several times.

Suddenly, the loud music from the park rings out, and that will make the game much more difficult. You will not be able to hear if anyone is approaching you, be it another player or a mascot. You hate that the organizers of the games have thought of every little detail to make your life as difficult as possible. "Here!" Jaehyun screams and you join him in front of a massive wooden sign where a map of the park is hung. "We are here." Jaehyun begins by placing his fingers on the map. "And we have to go there."

"It's way too simple." you comment with a frown. It is a simple straight line, with the attractions on either side of the main path to the exit. "That's what the mascots are armed for." Jaehyun mumbles, and yes, he is right. "25 minutes left." the mechanical voice echoes above the music, and you both look at each other. "Let's go." you start running again, and you stop only when a few weapons are in your way. Jaehyun grabs a machete and you grab a simple knife.

You do not do guns, too scared to miss your target and hurt an innocent. In a way, you are all innocent. The players never asked to be here, and the mascots are also probably players who ended up on the wrong side of the games.

The sounding scream makes your hair straighten out on your arms, and before you stop to look at where the scream is coming from, Jaehyun takes your hand to stop you from doing so. "We don't have time. We have to get out." it's not the Jaehyun you saw when the game ended last time, he is completely different, more determined. Maybe he has finally found his reason to survive, his reason to kill. You will ask him later, if you can get out of the park in one piece.

"Fuck."

You stop immediately when a mascot comes between you and Jaehyun. Of course, he noticed that you were no longer holding his hand, and he turns around, his eyes wide open. "Leave, Jaehyun, I'll take care of it." you say, and he shakes his head. "Jaehyun, for fuck's sake." you mumble, and you know he can't hear you. The mascot is heavily armed which makes your little knife look absolutely stupid and harmless.

The mascot pounces on you, and you avoid several stab wounds. You try to stab it a couple of times, but the mascot is way too fast for you. Fucking hell. When the mascot's knife blade cut your t-shirt, and your arm, you hiss heavily. "I liked this t-shirt." you whisper. On the other side, Jaehyun is also struggling with a mascot, and for a second, you wonder if you are not being traced because of the phones, to make the game easier for the mascots.

"Duck!"

A man's voice echoes behind your back, and though you are not quite sure he is talking to you, you drop onto your knees, so that you are out of sights of whatever he is planning on doing. Immediately, an arrow passes over your head and sinks between the two eyes of the mascot who collapses, mouth open in a silent cry. "No need to thank me!" the person with the bow says, and when you turn, he is gone.

What the fuck. But you should not be surprised, some people take more pleasure in hurting the people around them than trying to survive during games. But at least he most certainly saved your life.

"Y/n, come on!"

Jaehyun is safe and the mascot attacking him is on the ground. It is not dead, just unconscious. You nod, ignoring the burn in your arm from the cut, and follow Jaehyun. You see two players on the ground, dead, blood covering the asphalt. "We are almost there!" Jaehyun says, breathless. You are really wondering if you will be able to run to the exist. Your lungs are aching, screaming in pain, and your mouth is so dry and you wonder if you'll also ever be able to speak again in your life.

"Help me! Help me!"

Your head, and Jaehyun's, turn to another player. He is pinned to the ground, a mascot crushing him witl all its weight, a sharp weapon against his throat. "Jaehyun?" you ask, but the man is already running towads the other player who is in danger. He takes his machete and without hesitation, he hits and hits and hits. He doesn't watch where he hits, but only stops when he hears the heavy sound of the body falling to the ground.

"Thank you." the player says in a low voice. His face is covered in the mascot's blood, and the three players jump when the music stops and the attraction lights go out. "10 minutes left." you search for Jaehyun's hand, and when you find it, he intertwines your fingers before giving it a little squeeze. "Go."

Jaehyun starts running, and without a word, you follow him. Unfortunately, in the dark it's much easier to get lost, but you don't get lost. You do not know how, but soon you see the sign indicating the exit of the park. "Finally!" of course, you do not claim victory too soon, you know a mascot could be waiting for you, but no. There is nothing. There is no one other than the players who already made it out.

"Game clear." your phone screen indicates, and you pass the exist security gates, to drop to the ground, ignoring the sharp pain in your lower back. You bring your legs back to your chest, and nestle your face in between your knee, trying somehow to catch your breath. "You're injured." Jaehyun says, poiting to your arm, and you shake your head. "I don't care. We'll see later."

"Thanks again for helping me man." you hear someone say to Jaehyun, and the man doesn't say anything, he is probably smiling. Yes, he has found a reason to survive and kill, but that doesn't mean he won't seek to save the people closest to him. And you appreciate that. Because without Jaehyun, you most likely would have ignored the player about to have his throat slashed by the mascot.

"Let's go home." Jaehyun says, helping you up and you nod. Home. It's a word you would not have thought to hear in the middle of a world like this. You look at your phone, and sigh in relief when you see that your visa has gone from 0, to 3. Which means you have three days before playing, or being killed by whoever is behind these games. Jaehyun is at 5 now. Good for him. Good for the both of you.

Even though you told Jaehyun that he didn't have to fear the other players outside of the games a few days ago, that does not stop you from looking over your shoulder. It's certainly selfish to think that way, but you do not want to be followed to the mall. There are enough space for other people, but you do not want to be on guard every time you close your eyes, because some players, of course, are there to make the most of it. They want blood during, and after a game, and you do not want.

"Is your arm okay?" Jaehyun asks, breaking you out of your trance. You nod, only nothing that he has not let go of your hand. "Yeah, it's okay, the wound has stopped bleeding, so it's probably not that deep." perfect, because you feel too tired to stitch yourself up, and it's not that you do not trust Jaehyun, but with his hands constantly shaking, you do not want him to push the needle where it should definitely not go.

"I'll desinfect the wound when we get home." he says, and you resume your silent walk back to the mall. As usual, the surroundings are silent. You wonder where the players are, where they rest in between games, because there a still a lot of them, and you have not had the opportunity to see them outside. "We should find another padlock to lock the door when we leave." Jaehyun mumbles as you push open the back door and shrug. "Some players keep the weapons given after the games, they will still be able to break it no matter what."

You go up the stairs to the decoration store where you found refuge when you were still alone. At least it gives you the opportunity to have beds and blankets to sleep on, even if the store is constantly bathed in a rather unpleasant heat. "Sit down and take off your shirt." Jaehyun orders, and you obey without saying a word. You sit on the edge of the young man's bed, and take off your dirty, sweat-soaked, blood-stained t-shirt to throw it away. You won't need it anymore.

Jaehyun sits down next to you as he opens the first aid kit which he puts on his lap. He pulls out the disinfectant, and a bandage, and he goes to work. "I never asked you, but what were you doing before the world turned to shit?" you ask, teeth clenched, so as not to think about the burning sensation that crosses your arm when Jaehyun pours the disinfectant directly onto the wound.

You hiss when he cleans the wound, and surprisingly, his hands do not shake as much as usual. "I was working in my parents' bookstore. I started studying law, then they talked about selling the bookstore I basically grew up in, to travel, so I decided to take over." you nod, watching him wrap your arm in a bandage. "And do you like? Working there?" he puts the first aid kit on the bed and admires his work. "It is not as exciting as being a lawyer, but I always loved books, so yeah, I'm enjoying it."

"And you?" Jaehyun asks, and you lie down on the bed, your good arm slipped under your neck, and immediately, Jaehyun imitates you. Your arms are touching, but you do not comment on it. "I worked in an elementary school." you say. "No what I dreamed of, but at least, it allowed me to earn some money to work on my dream. I was not alone, to be honest with you, it's a dream my roommates and I shared ever since we were little." Jaehyun closes his eyes, but he nods, still attentive. He drinks your words like a thirsty man.

"What is this dream?" you gently shrug your shoulders, also closing your eyes. "It does not matter anymore. We are never going to leave this place, and you know what sucks the most? It's working my ass off for years, and I will never get the chance to spend my damn money." he laughs softly, and you smile at the sound. "You know, someone told me that I needed to find a reason to survive, to make the killings easier. But I also think that you should always remember the reason you chose to survive, to just keep going, to not lose hope." you turn your head toward him, and you observe his side profile. "That's some wise words. I wonder who is this person."

"I'll introduce her to you, if you want. She always finds the right words at the right time." he whispers, and you roll your eyes. For a moment, he remains silent so much that you wonder if he has fallen asleep, but suddenly, he turns on his side to watch you. "I never said it before, but thank you. Thank you for helping me that night. You saved my life." You too, turn onto your side, and reach out to place a lock of hair behind Jaehyun's ear. "You do not have to thank me. It was the right thing to do."

Jaehyun shakes his head, biting his lower lip. "No, it wasn't. You could have walked away, but you didn't. And to be honest, I don't know where I would be without you." you let your fingers wander over his face, and even in the darkness only cut off my a flashlight, you see the way his cheeks take on a soft pinkish hue. "You know, at first, my reason to survive was my family, even if we have not seen each other in a long time, but now, I realize that you are my reason to survive. I want us both to win, and to find a way out of this hell."

You do not know if it's because of the days you've been alone in this place, the constant sadness in your heart, or some other reason, but when he says these words, you lean in, and put your lips against his. It's a terrible idea, you think, but before you have time to step back, Jaehyun kisses you back. He puts his hand on your cheek, nibbling your lower lip. You open your mouth and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, playing with yours. What was meant to be a simple, sweet kiss turns into something more languid, more desesperate. You kiss like you need this to be able to breathe.

You sit up slightly, and you pass one of your legs across Jaehyun's hips to straddle him without ever breaking the kiss. You rest your hands flat on his chest, and when you finally end the kiss to catch your breath, Jaehyun's cold fingers wander over the burning skin of your back. You slep your lips down Jaehyun's neck, kissing and biting the skin hard enough to leave traces that will bloom into beautiful shades of purple. "Do you really think of me as your reason to survive?" you ask, mouthing at his jaw, and he nods. "Yes."

"Good."

"Can I?" you ask after sitting up, your fingers playing with the hem of Jaehyun's t-shirt. He nods vigorously and helps you take off his shirt. Jaehyun has a god-sculpted body, and if you had the time, you would spend hours worshipping his body, leaving kisses and marks on his skin. But unfortunately time is not something you have, at least your time is not unlimited. So you kiss his shoulder, his collarbone, and you slowly go down his breastbone to his navel.

"You are beautiful, Jaehyun." he opens his mouth to answer, but you bite the skin above his navel, and his words come out in a long moan. You smile softly, you appreciate this kind of reaction, and you particulary want to hear more. When you look down, you notice the tent in his pants, and poor boy, he probably feels really uncomfortable right now. "Can I?" you ask, once again and he nods his head, he doesn't trust his voice to speak anymore, he is afraid of being betrayed once more. Cute.

You remove his belt which you swing from the bed, and you unbutton his pants to bring them down with his underwear, just enough to bring out his hardening member, hitting against his toned stomach, leaving a shiny trail of pre-cum on his skin. Slowly, you run your tongue down the side of his cock, along a vein, and he inhales sharply. You look up, and you see that he's closed his eyes, and his hands are on either side of his body, fists clenched, he does not know what to do. He does not know if he is allowed to touch you.

You run your tongue through the slit, and he bucks his hips. "Eager?" you ask, and he makes a needy sound. "What do you want?" your voice is low, and when he does not respond, you stop and sit up. "You have to answer me, otherwise I won't know what you want, Jaehyun." you explain, and the boy sighs. "Touch me, please." he is so polite, you think, taking the head of his cock in your mouth, rolling your tongue around. You swallow the beds of pre-cum that ooze, but you do not take the time to appreciate the salty taste before going down more on his cock.

You go up, and pull the cock out of your mouth with a wet pop, pressing your lips together. You open your mouth slightly, and you let a drop of saliva fall on his member before jerking him off slowly. You are not the teaser type, but you do know, with Jaehyun, you want to do it. You want to see him fall apart in front of you. Another moan escapes his lips as you take his cock back into your mouth, relaxing your throat to take it a little deeper, caressing with your hand what you cannot fit.

"Fuck." Jaehyun whimpers, and finally, he puts one of his hands in your hair, gripping it to force you further down his cock. You feel the head of his cock against the back of your throat, making you gag a little, but you let him, you let him take some control. But not for long, you are also not one to give out your control. You fondle his balls, and he tenses up suddenly, trying to get you away from his cock. "Stop, stop, or I'll cum." he says, breathless.

When he releases his hold on your hair, he sits up, while continuing to stoke his cock with your hand, and tilts your head. "So what? Don't you want to cum?" you ask in a small voice, and he nods so violently that you wonder if he hasn't hurt himself. Although you begin to notice that he does not seem to be against a little pain. "Yes, yes, I fucking want it, but not now."

"Oh, you don't think you can go a second time if you cum now? How cute." Jaehyun's cheeks turn as red as his chest, and he looks away. "Of course I can." he mumbles like a brat who can't stand hearing that he can't do something as simple as cumming two times in a row. "Then show me."

You take his cock back into your mouth, and you hollow your cheeks, making him roll his eyes into the back of his skull. You bob your head quickly, resting your hands on Jaehyun's thighs, you moan, the vibration causing the young man's hips to buck. You feel him close, you know it's only a matter of second, so you dig your fingernails into the skin of his thighs, enough to draw blood, and that seems to be enough. His stomach contracts, and with a long moan, he cums deeps in your throat.

You inhale through your nose, and you swallow all the salty cum before sitting up. The vision offered to you is heavenly. Jaehyun has his eyes closed, he is out of breath, panting, his chest is rising and falling rapidly. Beads of sweat stick his hair against his forehead, and damn it, it turns you on to see him like that, so fucked out from a simple blowjob.

"Welcome back."

After several minutes, Jaehyun opens his eyes. As for you, you are sitting next to him, your fingers threading through the hair of the man who looks up at you. "It was awesome." you laugh softly before putting your hands on your thighs. "Do you think you can go for a second round?" It's not really the question you expected to hear from Jaehyun, seeing how he reacted earlier, but you nod nonetheless. "Of course."

You get out of bed, and take off your last pieces of clothing, and Jaehyun takes the opportunity to completely remove his pants and underwear to throw them out of bed. Before he can make a move, you straddle his hips once more, and he bites his lip when he sees you in that position. "Do you like the view?" you ask, and he nods. "A lot."

You rub your heating core against his cock which come to life once more, and you smirk, resting your hands on his chest. Jaehyun can feel the wetness against his member, and he can't wait to feel what it will be like once he is inside. "Don't tease." he whines lowly, and you sigh, tilting your head. "I never said I was going to do it." and he remains silent. You stroke his cock to full hardness, and with your right hand, you hold it straight to nudge it against your clit.

And finally, very gently, you ease his cock inside you, dropping onto his cock inch by inch, biting your lower lip to muffle any noises you could make. Maybe you should have stretched yourself a bit before, because Jaehyun is thick, but you are way too horny, you did not want to wait any longer. Jaehyun chokes on a moan when he feels the wet and hot walls around his cock. You let your first real moan when you bottom out. "Oh fuck, yes."

"You are so big, Jaehyun." you say under your breath, closing your eyes. You roll your hips when you finally get used to the stretch and let your head fall back. A small yelp escapes your lips when Jaehyun sits up, his torso against your chest, and his fingers digging firmly into your waist. He kisses the column of your throat, biting the skin like you did so well earlier and you bring your arms around Jaehyun's neck, playing with the hair at the back of his head.

When you get tired of the too slow pace, you bounce on his cock, Jaehyun's lips crashing onto yours for a kiss that's nothing delicate, it's full of teeth and tongues, with saliva coating your chins, it's disgusting, but you don't find it in you to care. All you want is pleasure, all you want is to taste this sweet sweet release.

Jaehyun's pace gets faster and faster, and you grip your shoulders, nestling your face in the crook of his neck. "You are so fucking hot." he whispers close to your ear before nibbling on your earlobe and you begin to feel that heat in the pit of your stomach. It's quick, you kknow, you it is not your fault, you had to watch Jaehyun get lost in the pleasure of a blowjob, and wait for him to come back to his senses after that, so if it someone's fault, it's Jaehyun's fault.

After two or three minutes, Jaehyun's rythm begins to become irregular, it's sloppy, and you hear his breathing getting shorter and shorter. He is close too. "Are you going to cum?" you ask and he nods. "Me too. Come on, cum in me." the both of you moan together, and Jaehyun makes you lie down on the bed, slipping your legs over his shoulders to fuck you deeper, and way harder. He is reaching places he had not reached with your last position, and when he rams against your g-spot over and over again, you see stars behind your eyelids.

You roll your eyes, your thighs starting to shake as Jaehyun bites your ankle. "Y/n, Y/n". he repeats your name like a mantra, and when you finally climax, your walls contract around Jaehyun's cock, and he is cumming too. Your mouth open with a silent moan as you feel the ropes of hot cum against your walls. Jaehyun does not stop his thrusts, but he slows down, riding his high, letting your legs fall back onto the bed.

"Fuuuuuuck." you let out and open your eyes when you finally feel like sensations are coming back into your limbs. Jaehyun drops down on you, but he catches himself on his hands to avoid crushing you with his weight. He kisses you softly, and you kiss back, but you spend more time breathing into each other's mouth rather than kissing, far too exhausted to do so. "That was fucking mind blowing." you say in a soft laugh.

"I agree." Jaehyun whispers, placing a simple kiss on your cheek before sitting up. He pulls out, and you grimace when you feel the cum dripping onto the sheet. Jaehyun drops down beside you, running his fingers through his damp hair, trying as best as he can to catch his breath. "Thank you." he says, and you roll your eyes. "Idiot."

Chapter three: Five of Spades.

When you wake up the next morning, you are in Jaehyun's arms, your head resting on his chest and for a while, it does not look so bad. For a while, you forget everything about this world where you have to kill to survive, where you have to earn the right to live. You know you have three days before your visa expires, and yet, when you begin to regain consciousness, to remember your situation, Jaehyun's situation, a weight drops on your stomach.

You have to play, and you do not know how long you will have to continue playing and if you have a chance to reunite with your family, and your roommates.

For a minute, you think back to that morning when everything changed.

You think back to when you woke up, all alone. You remember getting up from the bed, surprised you had not heard your alarm, only to notice that your phone had stopped working. You thought your roommates had played a trick on you, and you came out of your room to give them a piece of your mind.

You remember that feeling in the pit of your stomach when you found the rooms empty, despite their things being in their usual places. The strangest thing was finding their phones, their shoes, things they should have taken of they were out.

But that feeling was nothing compared to walking in the street. The street was so quiet, it was honestly scary. For a second, when you stopped in front of your parents' house, you wondered if this was all just a bad dream. Maybe you were sleeping, you thought, walking into the house, the door of which was not locked. But no, you were not sleeping. You were well and truly awake.

You were alone.

And you will never forget this feeling of abandonment, loneliness, anger and sadness.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

You snap out of your thoughts when you hear Jaehyun's deep, sleepy voice, you look up at him and see that he is watching you, his brows furrowed, he looks worried. Have you started to share your memories? Have you started to rehash your memories you tried somehow to bury in the depths of your mind, out loud? Probably, yes. "Nothing really important." you whisper, shrugging your shoulders. "Just a few memories, I guess."

You feel extremely vulnerable for some reason, and you do not like that feeling. You would not have minded that normally, but here, in this world, you can't afford to be vulnerable, to be weak when you have to be strong enough to survive. When you have to be strong for the both of you, when you know Jaehyun is always on the verge of breaking. What you can understand, of course, we are not all made to live in a world where death reigns supreme.

"You want to talk about it?" he asks, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, and you shake your head. "I'd prefer not to, if you don't mind." you whisper, and Jaehyun nods, of course he understands. "What do you want to do today?" you are trying to change the subject, you do not want Jaehyun to worry about you any longer. You both have to focus. "Do you want to rest? look for answers, or find another game?"

Jaehyun runs his fingers through your hair, and you close your eyes to the touch. "You know, I noticed something yesterday when we finished the game. Several of the players all had a stamp on their hand, you know, the kind you have at a nightclub." you nod as you sit up in bed, it's true, you just didn't really have time to talk about it last night. "Do you think they're like, a group?"

He sits up too, the blanket slipping off his shoulders, and giving you the opportunity to see the marks you left on his body, and you smile briefly. He really looks like a work of art. "Seeing two people with the same stamp, that's a coincidence, but 7? That's a lot, so I think there must be a bunch of survivors, gathering together. Maybe we should look for answers? They will definitely be at the next game."

"It's a good idea, but we'll have to be quiet and discreet, okay?" what you do not say is that you do not want Jaehyun to get hurt, you do not want to lose him. He told you that he found a reason to survive in you, and you would be lying if you said it was not mutual, but you do not want to say it out loud. Maybe you are afraid that he will laugh, and explain to you that he only said that in the heat of the moment, not because he meant it.

"Discretion is my middle name." he says, and you roll your eyes, laughing softly. "You are an idiot, Jaehyun." he smiles with a certain pride. "Yeah, that's what you told me last night."

While Jaehyun is preparing breakfast with the products you found in a small grocery store, you take the opportunity to take a shower. It's not luxury, just a water bottle stuck in a shower stall in the gum on the top floor of the mall, but it's already something. You get rid of the sticky feeling between your thighs, and when you hear a noise, you immediately freeze. "Jaehyun?" you ask in a low voice, and the noise you heard resume. It's a metallic sound, like someone knocking on the pipe.

You grab your towel, and you quickly dry yourself off before putting on clean clothes. The noises have stopped, but you do not feel confident, you are afraid to get out of the shower, wondering what the fell is going to be waiting for you on the other side of the curtain. But you have no choice, Jaehyun might worry if you take too long, and you do not want him to venture into the mall if you are no longer alone.

When you push back the curtain, you heave a sigh you didn't know you were holding back, when you see that you are alone, and that nothing has changed. You quickly leave the showers, and the gym to go down the decoration store. What if... What if this was just a way to waste your time while they went after Jaehyun?

Your heart skips a beat as you start running around the store, and when you find the breakfast abandoned, you nearly crumble on the spot. "Jaehyun?" you ask in a panicked voice. "Jaehyun?" your voice is louder this time, and when a hand lands on your shoulder, you are ready to attack, or cry, you are not sure. "Hey, you're shaking, what's wrong?"

Tears run down your face as Jaehyun walks around to face you. He opens his eye wide and without waiting, he pulls you to his chest. "Hey, everything is fine, I am here." he whispers, rubbing your back. "I-I thought something happened to you." you answer between sobs, and he shakes his head; "I was off to get something for breakfast, I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry." he says, placing a kiss on top on your head. "I'm so sorry, I won't do it again."

When you feel calmer, you take a step back with a long sigh. "It's no't you, Jaehyun. I heard noises when I was in the shower, so when I didn't see you, I thought something had happened to you." you mumble, and he smiles tenderly. A tenderness that you had not yet seen on his beautiful face. "I don't hear anything here, maybe it was rats? Who knows. But I'm fine. You are fine. We are fine, so there is not need to worry, I promise."

Before night falls, you and Jaehyun exit the mall. Despite what you said the day before, he still found a padlock to put on the door before going out, and you watch him, rolling your eyes. "It's an added security." Jaehyun mumbles when he sees you do it, and you shrug. "Yeah, or another reason for a player to force it open."

"Anyway."

Jaehyun takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers and you walk into the city center. You do not yet know where the next play zone will be, but you know it's only a matter of a minute or two before sings appear to show you the way. "Do you think we're right to go there?" Jaehyun asks. "That we will see these people with the stamp on their hands?" you shrug your shoulders, inhaling a gulp of air, it's cooler than the days before, and that makes walking and breathing much easier.

"I don't know." you begin, looking around for a sign. "Whether we see them or not, as long as we get home in one piece, that's all that matters." you do not care to see someone and have answers, all that matters to you is your safety. If you had been alone, you certainly would not have been looking for any kind of answers, but Jaehyun is here, so you have to adjust. "You're right." of course you are.

"Oh, look!"

You look where Jaehyun is pointing, and you smile thinly when you see the first glowing arrow. As you walk, the arrows are more and more numerous, and in no time, you find yourselves in front of an apartment complex. The hallways are outside, which gives them the opportunity to see what is going on. There is a glass door through which you can see a single player.

"Let's hide." you whisper when you hear voices behind you. You hide behind a car, as useless as phones, and you watch the new players. They are 5, or maybe 6, they all speak with big movements of their arms, which allows you to see the stamp on the back of their hands. "They are here." Jaehyun says under his breath, and you nod.

When they have all entered inside, you come out of your hiding place. "We're going to have to wait for the game to end if we want to learn a bit more." you explain, and that's the problem, you do not know how long the game is going to last. Or if the players will come out alive.

"Learn a little bit more, about what?"

You turn when you hear a voice that is unknown to you, and you swallow hardly when you see a man who is not unknown to you. This is the man who helped you during the tag game in the them park. The one who shot an arrow between the mascot's eyes. "May I know what you are looking to learn?" he asks, and you shake your head. You do not trust him. Yes, he saves your life, but that does not mean you are going to talk.

"You don't want to tell me? So what about you, maybe you're more inclined to talk?" Jaehyun shakes his head, standing next to you, arms crossed against his chest. He does not shake, he does not look down at the man, which is a pretty drastic change. "Ah, that's too bad, because it looks like you were spying and talking about my friends." he explains by showing his hand on which is the same stamp.

"You should go inside, the game will start soon." you say, and the man grins. He is attractive, you cannot say otherwise, but you are not sure that his personality is as attractive. "You are right." rather than going toward the door, he approaches you, and without waiting, he grips your wrist to pull you towards the door. "Maybe this will make you speak." he says.

"Stop!" Jaehyun screams, walking towards you to prevent the man from dragging you into the apartment's lobby. "Jaehyun, help me!" but it's too late, the apartment door opens under the force of the man, and you find yourself pushed inside, in the middle of the other players who look at you with curiosity. Jaehyun tries to open the door, but it is suddenly blocked.

"Registration is closed."

The mechanical voice rings out, and your blood freezes. Jaehyun's too. He is outside. You are inside. You will be forced to play without him.

"Fuck." you both say at the same time.

"Take this, you are going to need it." The man takes the last phone from the table in the middle of the room, and he throws it on your lap. You get it back, and you have no choice but to let the facial recognition do its job. You still have three days on your visa, but before you can look at the card, someone else speaks. "Johnny, who is this?" you look up at the man, Johnny, who shrugs.

"I found her outside. She looked bored, so I offered her to play." he replies with a laugh, and you frown. Why didn't he tell them you were watching them? "You are such a good man." someone says in a giggle. So finally, you get back to your feet.

"Five of Spades."

A spades card. It is going to be a physical game, like in the theme park, but a little bit more complicated. The television hangs on the wall in the corner of the room, and the rules appear as the mechanical voice begins to speak again. "The time limit of the game is 30 minutes. There is an unlocked apartment in the complex, the safe zone. Find it to clear the game."

"That's it?" someone asks, and you shove the phone in the pocket of your pants. "It's a five, Doyoung, we're not just going to have to find a stupid door." Johnny mumbles, and you agree. No game is that easy, what's the point? You take one last look over your shoulder, and Jaehyun is still there, watching you. You wave to him, and you leave the lobby.

"The game begins now."

The players who belong to the same group, get together, probably to talk about strategy, and the player who was here alone, goes on his own. So you do the same. You do not care about any answers, or to know which group they belong to, all you want now is to win the game, and return to Jaehyun. And maybe to hit him for coming up with such a stupid idea. Well, he just mentioned the stamps, you practically came up with the idea.

You go up to the first floor, and you begin to try to open the doors, one after the other. There are 8 doos on each side, making 16 on each floor. There are 5 floors. 80 doors to open, and only one to allow you to win the game. It's not going to be easy, especially if you are all alone, what you hope is that the players will also try to open the doors, to make it easier for you. For everyone.

You try to open the next doors, but without success, they are all blocked. It's way too easy, so you stop with your hands in the pockets of your pants, and though you have a limited time, you wait. Something is going to happen. An explostion? A flood? Electrocution every time someone puts their hand on a doorknob? You do not know, but you wish you did. You wish you could be in the organizers' heads, to know what to expect.

"Oh fuck!"

You turn when you hear a voice, followed by gunshots. There, that's what you were talking about. It was too good and easy to be true. You open your eyes wide when your gaze falls on a person whose face is hidden by a horse mask. What the fuck, you think, but not for too long, especially when you see the weapons that the horse person is carrying. Guns, knives, and even a fucking crossbow.

When the person raises their gun, you start to run, maybe it's suicidal, but you try to turn every handle as you pass by, but they all resist. Rather than turn, you rush up the stairs, and you go upstairs. On the second floor landing, you find a bloody body, that of one of the players in the group. "Oh shit." you mumble as you continue to clim. You stop, placing a hand over your mouth to listen if the horse person is following you.

"Hey! Stop!"

You stop when you hear Johnny's voice behind you, and you turn. "What do you want? We don't really have time to talk, if you have not noticed yet." you say, and he rolls his eyes. "If you want to survive, and see your little boyfriend again, you're going to have to help us." you scoff, going town a step to be closer to him, but still higher. "And why would I do that? You forced me to play!" Johnny shrugs. "If you help us, not only will you find your boyfriend, but I won't tell the other, and our boss that you were spying on us."

So they have a boss, you think, biting the inside of your cheek. "And how can I trust you?" you ask, and Johnny sighs. "I have no reason to lie to you. The others don't know about the spying thing, and trust me, the two of you are safer together than with us." so he is not the one in control of this group, that's good to know, but he might be lying to you. "Ok, what should I do?"

"Jungwoo is checking the second floor, Doyoung is taking care of the third. Mark is going to do the fourth, so you should check the fifth floor." you nod, then you fold your arms against your chest. "What about the person with the mask? Have you seen the weapons they have? We have no chance of survivint if we cross their path." Johnny listens when he hears a screm, but he does not say anything about it. "They are not alone. There are two of them. And don't worry about them, the others and I, we'll take care of them. We'll keep them on the first floor so you can find the safe zone."

"While you are trying not to get yourself killed, try checking out the doors to the first floor. I did the right side, but did not have time to do the left side." Johnny nods, and you go your separate ways. He comes down the stairs, and you turn on your heels to go up to the top floor. Once upstairs, you are out of breath, but at least you haven't seen a human horse in your path. This is a good thing.

"20 minutes left."

"Come on, you can do it." you whisper to yourself. "For you, and for Jaehyun." yes, for you and for Jaehyun who must be scared to death outside. You'll find a way to apologize properly when you get out of there, it's a promise you make to yourself. You come out of the stairwell, and you begin to check the doors to one side. Non opens. You stop briefly when you hear a gunshot, or a scream, but do not take the time to check around. Johnny is tall, and strong, and he will be able to take care of a human horse. At least, you hope so.

You do not want to have to kick his dead ass for not keeping his promise.

You walk over to the other side, when you hear a voice that overcomes the noises around you. "I have it! I found the door!" in a way, not saying where the door is, is a good idea, although you think the human horses know where it is, but on ther other hand, you have no fucking idea where you have to do to be safe. You leave over the deck of the balcony that separated the corridor from the void, and you see ap erson running towards the stairs.

It's not on the fourth floor.

A hand grips your leg and forces it to the other side of the balcony, and a cry strangles in your throat at you try to catch yourself at the edge. "Help, help:" you scream, hoping to get the attention of one of the boys. When you look up, you see a bit of the horse mask. It's the end, you think, when you feel the burn in your arms from holding on. You won't be able to last long in this position, and there is no way you'll survive a fall from a five stories apartment.

Jaehyun, you think. Poor Jaehyun to whom you have promised so many things to help him better endure the idea of this world without faith or law. He is going to be alone, and that's what bothers you the most. You are his reason for surviving, so what if he loses you? You refuse to think about it, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

This is not the way you saw yourself dying. A fall from an apartment's balcony, that's not how it should end. You try to pull yourself up, but it's impossible. "Hold on, Johnny is coming!" a voice scream, just below you, and you are grateful, you really are, but it might be too late. "I'm out of strenght already." you say in a sob. "I know that, but you have to hold on. Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and think about something else." the voice tells you, and you shake your head. "I can't."

The horse person disappears from your field of vision, and what your hear next is the sound of a fight. You bite your lower lip, hard enough to make it bleed, but at least, the metallic taste in your mouth helps you stay grounded. "Hey, grab my hand!" it's not Johnny watching you, but a man with long red hair. "I can't do it." you whisper, and he shakes his head. "Of course you can! Come on, I won't let you fall. Never."

Another gunshot sound makes you freeze, your arms straining even more, and you begin to shake dangerously. Did the humain horse kill Johnny? Is the red-haired stranger next? So if he is, you are next too. It is nly a matter of seconds before you fall to your death.

"Come on kid!"

Johnny is there, and although he is hurt, he is alive. You would not have thought you would ever be grateful to see him alive after he forced you into the game. The two men bend down, and with a little effort, they manage to pull you up, and put you back on your feet. "It's okay, you are safe. Open your eyes. Look, you made it." the man says, close to your ear, his hand resting on your shoulder. "We have to go. They found the door."

"10 minutes left."

The human horse is sprawled on the ground, and you do not know if they are dead or not, but you do not have time to think about it, Johnny grabs your arm and forces you down the stairs to the second floor. All the other players, those who are still alive, are fighting against the second horse, in front of a door which must be the one enclosing the safe zone.

You feel like the figh goes one for hours, as you stand there, still, watching them. But no, it only lasts five minutes.

"5 minutes left."

One of them manages to push the horse back far enough so that everyone can rush into the room. "Jungwoo, press the button on the right, I'll take care of the left." in the room, which is quite small, there are two buttons facing each other on the walls. For a chance to win, you need two people to press at the same time. Which means, that being the only survivor is completely unnecessary. Although the spades card is a physical card, it is also a group work card. Without a group work, no victory.

What you also understand is that the safe zone will not be safe until the buttons are activated, because the second horse enters, and swings a knife that cuts the hand of the boy named Jungwoo. He falls to the ground, pressing against the wound, a long, painful sob escaping his lips. "Oh, god damn it!" Johnny growls, rushing towards the horse to punch them, while trying not to get stabbed. "You! Press the button!"

You nod, and you walk over to the switch with a nod from the other boy, you flip the switch. A ringing sound is heard, and the horse drops their weapons.

"The players cleared the game."

The moment the sizzle in the speakers stop, the collar around the horse's neck flash, and it explodes. The collar, but not only, the head of the horse too, covering the walls and the players with blood.

"You may leave the play zone."

The players look at each other, and with one accord, they leave the room. They descend the stairs in dad silence, ignoring the blood on the stairs, and the scene they all just witnessed. The human horse was not just a person here to kill you all, but a player. Like in the park during the tag game.

Johnny is the one who pushes the door of the apartment complex, and he lets out the players one after the other, making sure they are feeling alright. When it's your turn, you stop beside him. "Thanks for saving me. Again." you say, and he nods. "Y/n!" you head turns to Jaehyun who runs towards you and engulfs you in a long hug. "My god, I was so scared!" he whispers, his lips against your neck, and you wrap your arms around his waist, refusing to let him go.

"Stay safe, you two." Johnny says before joining his group to leave the play zone.

Now, the visa on your phone indicates 8 days. You have 8 days before playing, or dying. 3 days longer than Jaehyun.

Chapter four: Seven of Hearts.

For four days after the game, you did not leave the mall. You only came out of the store to collect food, and to shower, but otherwise, you were lying in bed, glued to each other, whispering sweet words to each other, or naughty ones. For four days, you cut yourselves off from the world, you stopped thinking about the games, the visas, and the blood that is becoming more and more difficult to clean up.

But today, you can no longer pretend nothing is different. Today, you have to go out.

"I am coming with you." you mumble while lacing your shoes. Jaehyun, who is pulling on his hoodie, shakes his head. "You are not coming. You still have 4 days." you get up from the bed, crossing your arms over your chest, daring Jaehyun to see anything. "I am coming." when he opens his mouth to speak, you raise your hand to silence him. "Last time I told you not to come, and you still did. It's my turn. You know you'll see me there, even if you leave without me."

Jaehyun nibbles on his lower lip, at a loss for words. "We are stronger together, Jaehyun." you know this is not true, that although teamwork is sometimes recommended, being together can be a weakness too, most of the time. "If you hurt yourself there, I swear to god, I'll make you pay for it." he mumbles through greeted teeth, and you smile, victorious. "I'll let you do it."

"I hope it won't be a physical game, I'm exhausted." Jaehyun says, closing the door behind you. You wait for him, reaching out your hand to him, and he chuckles softly, taking your hand in his. "Exhausted? You've spent the last few days sleeping, there is no reason for you to be exhausted!" Jaehyun whines loudly, and you bite your lower lip so as not to laugh. "You have exhausted me. You are insatiable!"

"You are hot, it's not my fault." you say in your defense, and you start to walk. It's later than usual, so the arrows are already there, showing the way to the next game zone. It's further than usual, but you don't mind. It bothers Jaehyun a bit, sicne it's the last day on his visa, and he is worried he won't be able to take part in the game.

"Everything will be alright." you say, squeezing his hand when you feel him tighten. "We'll be there on time. Win the game together. And go home together." he nods, though unconvinced, and you stop in front of the game zone. "The botanical garden?" you ask, frowning. "You already came?" you turn your head towards Jaehyun. "Yeah, with school when I was younger. It's pretty cool inside. But I wonder what kind of game they are going to give us."

"Maybe taste the flowers, and find which one is poisonous, and will slowly kill us if we can't find the antidote in another plant?" you ask, and Jaehyun narrows his eyes. "Hey, if we get out of this and make our own game world, we could use your idea and make some money out of it." you laugh softly, yeah that's not gonna do it. "The player already wants to surpass the master? You surprise me, Jaehyun."

Jaehyun opens the double glass door, and you walk inside, thanking him with a small kisso n the tip of his lips. The entrance is nothing unusual. There is a counter in the middle, pictures of plants on the walls, and a strong smell surrounds you. The lights are dimmed, and the heat is much more important than outside. This is what it takes to keep the plants alive, you think, taking a new phone, followed immeidately by Jaehyun.

"Seven of Hearts."

You both look at each other, frowning. You never had a heart game. The heart card being a psychological game. And seven? You never had such a difficult game either. "It's going to be complicated." you whisper. A post-card is places on the table next to it. "Take wathever items you want." and on the table are placed weapons of all kinds. "Look." Jaehyun nods to show you the headphones on another table. They are connected to a collar, which will certainly prevent them from removing it, glasses and a microphone. Perfect to communicate between each other.

"Oh, hi."

When you hear a voice, you turn to the new player. He looks young, really young. His lower lip is bleeding, and he looks like he has not slept in weeks. You frown, tilting you head. "Are you sure you want to play this game? It's a seven of Hearts." you say, and he shrugs. "I've already walked through the door, so it's too late." he walks up to you, and picks up a phone. You take a look and see that like Jaehyun, it's his last day to play.

You are about to ask him how old he is, and how long he's been here when the mechanical voice rings out. This is also when the door bursts open, on a clearly breathless person, and when your gaze lands on the new player, you sigh heavily. "Johnny." the man puts his hands on his knees, bending down, trying as best as he can to catch his breath, and when he hears his name, he straightens up, smiling. "Hey there! Look time no see."

"Registration is closed." the screens light up, and the speakers sizzle. You take a headphones, and you put it on. When you turn your head towards the boys, you see their names. Jaehyun, and the boy, Hendery imitate her. Johnny is the last one to do so, whisteling at the technology.

"The time limit is ten minutes. One player becomes the wolf, and the rest of the players become the sheep. The wolf must avoid the sheep's gaze. If the wolf has eye-contact with a sheep, the sentor reacts and the sheep becomes the wolf. After a new wolf is created, the sheep cannot become the wolf for 3 seconds. Once the time limit is reached, the wolf clears the game, and it is game over for the sheep. Attempting to remove the collar will result in a game over."

You and Jaehyun look at each other, it's a game where there will be only one winner.

The design of the wolf appears on the side of Jaehyun's headset, and on one of the screens, the symbol of the wolf is posed on the photo of Jaehyun who raises his head with a frown. "But I don't want to be the wolf!"

"Excuse me?" the boy, Hendery, asks. The two of you turn your heads toward him, and when Jaehyun's gaze meets Hendery's, he becomes the wolf. "Sorry." that's all he says before he starts running towards the botanical garden. "What are we doing?" you ask, and Jaehyun shrug. "I have absolutely no idea." if you don't know what to do, Johnny knows what to do. "Come back here, you little shit!" he shouts, running after the kid in the garden. "We have to go too, we can't just stay here."

You don't have much time, so you get going. The botanical garden is hot, and very humid, it is very unpleasant to be in this place. Through your headphones, you hear Hendery's plowed breathing, and his complaints every time he walks on the roots of a plant. "Kid, come back here!" Johnny says, and you bite your lip. Johnny is not alone, he's got a whole bunch of people around him, so you know he will not take pity on Hendery. He will not take pity on neither of you.

You cannot speak without taking the risk of being heard by Johnny, although for now, as sheep, you do not risk anything. "You go this way, and I go this way." Jaehyun says, and you nod. "We'll meet up after." you do not want to leave him, especially if it's your last time with him, but you have no choice. "Hendery, where are you?" you ask, in a voice you want soft, unlike Johnny who growls regulary into the microphone.

"I deserve to live, I am the youngest!" Hendery pants, and you sigh. You hear his voice clearly, he must be close to you, you think, looking around. "You don't deserve anything at all! What's the poing of letting you live, if you're going to get fucking killed tomorrow in another game. We can play. We have to survive, you don't, you're too young." Johnny mumbles, and in a way, he is not wrong.

You hear a rustling sound behind you, so you turn around quickly enough to see Hendery dig his foot into the tall grass to hide. You approach silently. "Hendery?" you whisper, and the boy is stupid, so he looks at you, making you the wolf. "Y/n, it's your turn now." Johnny says. "I saved you twice, I can't do that another time, I have to go back to my boys, I'm sorry."

"Jaehyun? Jaehyun where are you?" you ask, but you hear nothing but silence. Even the other two boys are silent, perhaps to make the hunt easier. "Jaehyun, please answer me." you start to panic, what if Johnny had killed him to have one more chance to making it out alive? Your blood runs cold, and you begin to run through the garden.

"5 minutes left."

"Jaehyun please, tell me where you are." you say in what sounds like a sob. You have to see him. You have to see him one last time and give him the role of the wolf. "Jaehyun." you whisper, but again, you ahve no response. What you do not know is that you are close to the man, much closer than you think, but he just refuses to say anything, he even hides when he sees you.

"Do you remember when I told you that you were my reason to survive?" Jaehyun's voice is finally heard, and you sigh in relief. "I meant it. Not only did you give me reason to survive, you also gave ma safe place to stay. You healed me, you fed me, and you loved me." you continue to run, you have to find him. "You have me more in a few days than anyone in my entire life, and for that, I want to thank you."

"Jaehyun, tell me where you are! We can find a solution, we can both live!" you say in a quick voice, and he laughs softly. "We can't, Y/n, it's a game where there is only one winner. There might be a way to win together, but we don't have time to find the solution." out of the corner of your eye, you see a bridge that connects two parts of the garden, and you head for it.

"You had a reason to survive from the start, Y/n. Even if you did not find me, you had a reason to play, and to win. I didn't. You deserve to live." he says in a weak voice, so full of emotions, and your heart breaks. "Jaehyun, please, I'm begging you, tell me where you are, stop hiding." you say in a sob, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"1 minute left."

"You have to live, you have to find a way to leave, and find the people you love. Do it for me, please." when he closes his mouth, your gaze finally falls on Jaehyun. He is sitting on a bench, with his head back, looking up at the night sky through the glass ceiling. "I can't life if you are not here." you say as you approach. When he hears your voice clearly, he smiles, looking at you. "You won't have a choice. You are the only person who deserves to survive. To win. You deserve the whole entire world."

"20 seconds left."

"I love you, Y/n. Thanks for everything." you walk up to him, and notice that he too, is crying. But he is also smiling, as if he is happy. Happy to know that you will be able to live.

"5 seconds left."

"Close your eyes, my love." he whispers, and you obey.

You do not see Jaehyun's collar flashing red, but you it. You hear the detonation. Well, the three detonations that echo from every corner of the botanical garden.

"I love you too, Jaehyun."

"Game clear for the wolf."

#cznnet #nct #nct imagines #nct scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #nct smut #jaehyun smut

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