#there’s a goat guy and a pink haired girl and they’re married but the pink haired girl dies

[skyward-floored]

I should write down the stuff I know about totk despite still avoiding spoilers like the plague, it’d be funny

[ve1vetyoongi]

better with you | ksj - 01

Chapters: index

Pairing: Seokjin x female reader

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

Word count: 19k

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that something is you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But his face!"

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

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

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

"So you admit he probably has one?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello? Is someone there?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I...work here."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Huh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wait...

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

Well. This is new.

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

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

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

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

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

"What? — Jungkook!"

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

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

"Two?" You and Jimin splutter in unison.

Jungkook looks amused. Too amused for your liking.

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

You narrow your eyes. "Hoseok? Why?"

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

"Then who?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay, elaborate?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What the hell are you doing?"

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

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

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

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

Oh no.

"Seokjin."

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

Ah. So this is Mr Kim?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"This is crazy—"

"I'll repay you!"

You pause. "How?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Don't push it." You warn. 

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

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

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

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

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

09:26, you: — huh? who is this?

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

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

Excuse you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

09:30, you: — your sister??

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

Fuck. His mom?

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

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

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

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look like you belong here.

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

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

Until you remember what you really are. An imposter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is Seokjin's sister?

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're late."

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

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

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

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

You choke. A pro?

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

"Uh-"

"Um-"

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

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

"Not exactly-" You start.

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

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

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

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

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

You can do this..

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

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

You freeze. "Uhhh..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The next forty five minutes pass quicker than you expect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your mouth falls agape with astonishment. "Parasites?"

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

"No I—"

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

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

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

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

"What happened?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Five hundred."

"Five hundred thousand?"

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

Oh. Well now everything makes sense.

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

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

"D-did your sister hate me?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Then yes."

Oh.

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

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

You snort. "Good to know?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sure." You breathe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Make me cum."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He can't take it any longer.

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

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

"Wait, we can't do it in here—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Better?" Seokjin turns to you expectantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm not going to fuck you."

Oh.

You stiffen beneath him, his words shocking you still.

He doesn't want you. Simple as that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

"S-Seokjin..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"P-please!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Me too." You murmur honestly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then what?"

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

"Isn't that what you did today?"

He shakes his head. "The real you."

[lay-d-l]

Zoyalai Modern AU

This spring I joined @grishaversebigbang and for whatever reason I signed up as a writer. Not a very smart idea it was very stressful and I don’t even like it that much, but y’know, next year, I’ll be ready. 

I worked with incredibly talented people who are, generally the sweetest human beings you could meet. 

Materialki:

@someofgennie x

@edmeom x

Corporalki:

@shelbychild

Fic summary: Zoya was living day for day, not caring really, not after him. After she bumps into a guy at her favorite coffee shop, her life gets interesting again. Will she let herself feel again?

you can find my fic here *it’s not there yet, so if you wanna see it, keep reading*

It was a wet Tuesday morning; it had been raining all night and I wasn’t feeling like going out. But things happen 24/7 and that means reporters, like me, work 24/7. I wiggled out of bed and went to the bathroom. Seeing what I saw, I groaned. It's Zoya's-Famous-Bed-Hair. Once, in junior year, I woke up late and didn't have time for hair and makeup. So, naturally, I put on the first thing I got my hands on and ran out. Which is usually okay, right? Yeah, well Os Alta Speciality School has uniforms. Though, they’re not like Ketterdam ones. In Ketterdam, it's regular pants-shirt-jumper; in Os Alta they wore keftas. That's not the point, though; the night before, Genya and I were out, partying, so I wore clothes from last night's party. The principal suspended me for the day. This morning, I braided my hair, took my laptop, and left for the Dragon Scale. Dragon Scale is a coffee shop just around the corner from my apartment. Since I started drinking coffee when I was fifteen I have always gone there; it felt safe. Mostly because no one, not even Genya, knew about it. Just like every other day, it was almost empty. One person at the counter and a few others scattered in the back. I went to the counter and Anna, the barista, smiled at me. "The usual?" she asked. "You know it," I smiled back. "Could you bring it to me though? I have a lot of work today." Not turning from the shelves she said, "No worries." With that I went to sit by the window. I liked looking at people as they passed by, even when it's not a busy day. I opened the laptop and started writing: the elections are nearing, are you ready to decide between our two competitors? Is it going to be the cunning Petyr or the sly Nikolai Lantsov? I was never into politics, but Shelby, my publisher, insisted I write about this year's election. I love my job, I really do, but this is incredibly boring and the campaigns don't start until a few weeks from now, so when Anna brought my frappe, I looked to the street. I was like a less smart Sherlock Holmes. Meaning I can't really deduct, I just notice how people walk and dress, or if they have any ticks. Like if their left shoulder is lower than their right one. There was a woman in a hot pink coat, which was an unusual choice considering not many people wear bright colours at this time of year. A pig tailed girl who had stuck a lollipop to her mother's jacket. And a guy who was trying so hard not to be seen, but who obviously failed. With nothing else to do I packed my laptop, took my cup and went out. As I was turning to say bye to Anna, I bumped into a wall. I said, "Really? Couldn't have told me I'm going into a wall???" She started laughing hysterically. "What?" "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm no wall." I turned around. He definitely wasn't a wall. "Witty remarks are really unnecessary." I said. He put his arms up in surrender. "I am sorry that I bumped into you though." “Don’t worry, it could have been someone not as pretty as you.” “Thank you, I think. I’m going to go now. Bye Anna!” as I was walking out I heard Anna talking to the man.

Next day, I was sitting in the park, trying to write something on the elections but it was a no go. I was closing my laptop when I felt someone sit beside me. I looked to my right and saw the guy from the coffee shop. “What does ‘Z’ stand for?” “What are you doing here?” I asked, “Are you following me?” “No, I was walking, and I saw a familiar face, thought I say ‘Hi’. What does ‘Z’ stand for?” “It stands for Zebra.” “Really?” “No, of course not, it stands for Zoya.” “Oh that’s a nice name, is it yours? What does it mean?” “Yes, of course it’s mine. It means ‘life’”I said. “And you are?” “Nikolai.” he looked at his watch, “As much as I liked this encounter, I must go now.” “Bye?” He bowed to his waist, “Farewell.”

I snoozed my alarm three times, but it kept ringing. Then I realised it's not a regular alarm, it's a Genya alarm. "What is it, Kostyk?" I said into the phone. "Oooh!" she exclaimed, "Kostyk, that sounds nice. Not used to it though." "I know that's why I said it. What's the rush?" "It's Saturday." "Oka-" "ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU FORGOT OUR WEEKLY MEETING???" "Don't yell," I said. "Of course I didn't forget, you'd kill me if I did. I just didn't think it'd be this early." "Early?" she asked, "Zoya it's 11:00 in the morning!" "Oops? Okay, well, I'm obviously awake now, so what were you thinking of doing?" I asked. "The Zoo! Winter is coming, and I want to see all the summer animals before they stop going out." "Sure, meet you at the park in two hours?" "Yeah, love you!" she said, and hung up. I got up and went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. It was empty, guess I forgot to go to the store. So I decided to go to a bakery down the street, hoping they still have something warm. Luckily for me, they did. I bought two dollars worth of mini-whinnies and got back home. It was a relatively sunny day, so I sat at the balcony. And for a Saturday, it wasn't really busy. Besides Genya days, Saturdays are usually the farmers market days too. Most people don't have time to buy groceries during the week. I looked up to the Grand Palace. Tourists always said it was the most beautiful building in Os Alta, but I could never see it. It's not ugly, I just found the Little Palace more interesting. The Grand Palace is like any other palace ever, with big towers and shiny roofs, I can see that in any place that had a royal dynasty. But only we have a huge library with a fountain next to the royal Palace. I looked at my watch and yelped, I'm gonna be late!, I thought. I changed from my sweats and tee, and put on jeans, a jumper and boots, In case it rains. Took the leather jacket and keys from the hanger and ran out. The park wasn't far from my apartment so I walked. When I got to our usual meeting spot, Genya was already there. I waved apologetically. She rolled her eyes: "At least you're here, let's go!" "Fine, fine, I'm going!", I laughed. We sat in her car and went to the zoo. During the ride we talked about what we did during the week, how's married life and how's David in general, but all that was dropped the moment we walked through the gates of the zoo. First we saw the birds; pigeons, eagles and those funny colored ones that sing. Next animals were sheep, llama and deer. Their cages were around a pavilion that had horses and ponies you could ride, but those are mostly for kids. Few years back, Genya asked if we could ride but they wouldn’t let us. She said “it wasn’t fair that only kids can do fun stuff…” and continued to tell me how when she has kids they will be free to do whatever they want. We walked next to the deer cage. David loves them so every time we’re here we tend to stay a bit longer. Today we saw there was a new addition to the family. On the cage it said she was a doe named Lola. Next stop were the ostridges and the emus, we skipped those, mostly because one ostridge bit me a few years back when I tried to feed it. Genya got it on camera. On the other side of the sidewalk were the bison, and we always acted as if they were the flying bison from Avatar: the Last Airbender. We named all of them Appa. The seals were sleeping so we went to the reptiles instead. Most of the snakes were also sleeping, as was the aligator so we decided to skip the hippoes too and went to see the wolves. Though they didn't pay attention to us as they were eating. The monkeys were mostly shitting onto their hands and throwing it at each other… The petting zoo was empty so we had all the little goats to ourselves! When I was a kid, and my mom still my mom, I tried to take one of the goats with me home, but I couldn’t carry it alone so it stayed in the petting zoo. When we got to the bears most of them were in the water, but there was one who went in circles around his pond, like he was trying to catch fish. Lions were lying around, hyenas were laughing at the visitors, which is not creepy at all… At that point we got tired and went to the big pond where the ducks and the swans are. I sat on a bench while Genya bought ice cream. “Strawberry?” she asked. I just nodded. "So," she started, "you're not seeing anyone, right?" I choked, "What?!" "Are you seeing anyone?" "Where is that coming from?!" "David recently got together with a childhood friend and when he got home, he said you'd like him and that you should go on a date." she said, casually. "Genya, you know I'm not the one for dating…" She touched her eye-patch and looked away. "I know, but just try? I mean, just meet with him, then decide what to do. Not everyone is like Alex…" I sighed, "Sure, wh-" "REALLY?", she exclaimed. "Yes, chill. Who is he?" "Oh, oh… I have no idea. David just called him Sobachka, but-" "Genya…" "But he can't be bad if he's friends with David. If you don't feel like staying, I'll pull you out." "Okay, Pinkie Promise?", I asked, and she smiled, "Cross my heart, hope to fly!" We threw the rest of our cones to the ducks, passed the safari animals, and finished this year's last visit to the zoo. Next to the zoo is an empty parking lot that has a small adventure park. Ever since I befriended Genya, after the zoo we go to the ferris wheel and the bumper cars.

Since I agreed to go on a blind date I decided it was best to do it in a familiar setting. So I told Genya that I wanted it to be in a coffee shop near my flat. I put on my battle armor, jeans and a sweater, and went out. The streets were empty, even for a weekday. I went into the shop and looked around to see a familiar face. Anna, behind the counter, Gennie in the corner, drawing probably. I sat in my usual place next to the window and waited. Anna came by the table. “Hey, what can I get you?” I looked up, “Nothing yet, I’m on a date…” “That’s a new one, how did that happen?” “I was out with Genya and she suggested it. And it’s Genya, she thinks he’s good, and she would not stop until I said yes so I’m here to see what happens.” She smiled, “Well, I’m sure it can’t be that bad.” “Yeah,” I said and looked behind her, “Gennie’s calling for you.” She turned around, “Oh, I better get that, she’s trying out a new technique.” Then she left. The set time was 17:00, I came a little earlier, just in case. I took my phone out of my pocket to see the time. He’s late. Door opened and Nikolai came in, he looked around and rolled his eyes when he saw me. He came and sat at the chair opposite of me. “Honestly Zoya, is it not tiring to follow me? You could just ask for my number.” I scoffed; ”Don’t flatter yourself I’m here for a date.” His eyes widened, “Come again?” “You thought you were-” “You’re a friend of David’s.” “What? How do you know that?” I asked. He scratched his head, “I, oh Saints…” “You’re my date, aren’t you?” “I would seem so.” I frowned, “Hey, don’t look so pissed I didn’t know either.” “Do you want to do this?” I asked. “I don't see why not.” he said. “I have no expectations, we sit and talk. If we click, cool. If not, we had an interesting afternoon. Deal?” He put his hand out. I shook it; “Zoya Nazyalenski, nice to meet you.” “Nikolai, my pleasure.” he smiled. Anna came by again, “This, it’s hilarious.” she said. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks that.” Nikolai replied. She laughed; “ What can I get you?” “I’ll have a Frappe.” I said, “ What do you want?” Nikolai looked at me, then at Anna, “I’ll have what she’s having, and a plate of biscuits.” Anna nodded, “Coming right up.” “So,” I started, “do we start again, or do we just continue where we left off?” “We continue, can't pretend like you’re not my biggest fan.” i laughed, “Yeah, keep telling yourself that. On another note, how do you know David?” “We lived in the same neighborhood when we were kids.” he said, “One day, when we were 8, there was an explosion in his garage. I was playing in my backyard when it happened, I came running to see what happened, to see if he was okay. Spoiler alert he was, but I think he burned his eyebrows off.” “What happened?” I asked eagerly. “When?” I sighed, “What caused the explosion?” “Oh.” he looked confused, “I don’t know. I never asked. And how do you know David?” “I’m afraid my story isn’t so interesting, we met at highschool.” “You went to the same school?” “Yes but we were on different courses. I took journaling, he took engineering. He wasn’t social, I barely knew him before my best friend, his now wife Genya, worked up the courage to ask him out in junior year.” “Yeah, he definitely wasn’t a social butterfly. I was really surprised when I heard he was getting married.” “But I didn’t see you at the wedding.” I stated. “My father got sick, I couldn’t come” “I’m sorry to hear that.” he smiled; “I’m not, he’s an ass” “Who’s an ass?” Anna came with our order. “His father.” “My father” we said at the same time. I looked at him and smiled, he winked at me. “I see where you get it form” He gasped; “you didn’t” “I did.” Anna facepalmed. “I can see this is going great, so I’m gonna go.” “Thank you Anna.” Nikolai said. She waved him off. “Since we’re basically playing 20 questions, what else do you want to know?” I asked. He looked out the window, “Cliche, but, what is your favorite season and why?” “Winter, because there is nothing better than a wool jumper. My turn. Why does David call you Sobachka?” “This got very personal, very fast.” “Oh,” i said, “I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” “No it’s okay, no one is ever that direct with me.” he said and ate his last biscuit. “Why? Is it because you’re in this year's elections?” “I thought you didn’t recognise me.” “Oh please, I’m writing an article about you and the other guy” “Huh, he really is ‘the other guy’” he said. “So, are you going to tell me what’s behind your nickname?” “Right, ugh, I’m not my father's son, my mom cheated. Not many people know this. The ones who do call me Sobachka, y’know, like a dog.” “That’s rough buddy… So it doesn’t bother you?”I asked. “No, not really.” I chuckled, “Not many people are like that.” Indeed they are not.” he looked at his watch, “This has been fun, but I’m afraid I must go now. I would like to see you again.” “I would like to see you too.” I smiled.

I was walking down the stairs when I heard my phone ring. “Hello?” “Hi, is this Zoya?”said the voice. “Yes, and you are?” I sighed as I got to the bottom and went to check my mailbox. “Is my voice so plain to you that you do not remember it?” “Nik, it’s not like I have your number saved in my phone. How may I help you this fine evening?” “I was wondering if you are free tonight? For a stroll in the park.” “We saw each other two days ago!” “Please? I need a friendly companion.” he paused, “We’ll eat doughnuts?” “How dare you use doughnuts against me?! Of course I’ll come. Meet in front of the Little Palace fountain in an hour? “Done. I’ll see you there.” I smiled fondly. “Bye Nik.” During the past few weeks I have been seeing him more and more. One Saturday he and David tagged along on our weekly meeting. I got out of the building and went across the street. There were lots of cars so I decided against calling a taxi. It wasn’t a long walk to the Little Palace, but I had to go to the Library first. There weren't many people in the Library so it was a quick stop. The Librarian, Kuwei, is a friend of Nina’s so I paused to chat with him, but he had work to do so I left him to it. When I got to the fountain, Nikolai was already there. I kissed him on the cheek and sat next to him. “What’s up?” He picked up a bag and gave it to me, “Doughnuts first.” “Honestly I don’t know how can someone not like you.” I said and took a bite of the doughnut. “So good…” “Me or the doughnut?” he asked. “What?” “You said it’s good. Me or the doughnut?” “Oh,” I laughed, “definitely the doughnut!” “HA-HA, very funny. Look I didn’t want to ask you, but I really need help with my speech.” I wiped my mouth to get rid of any leftover sugar and took out a notepad out of my bag. “Sure, what's it about?” “Well, this showing is supposed to be about children. Their education, the schools, hospitals, even orphanages.” he rubbed his neck. “That’s great, children should be taken care of, we know that first hand.” “Yeah, but I don’t know how to phrase it. I thought you could help with that.” “Of course. You’re gonna tell me everything that you want to say, we’ll write that down and work our way from there.” We were working on the speech until the sun went down. I looked up at him and said:”It’s getting late, I should go…” Nikolai scratched his head, “Yeah, no, of course, we’ll see eachother on David's birthday, right?” “Yes. This has been fun, I’d like to be more involved with your campaign if you’ll have me.” “You’re always welcome, always.” he hugged me, “I’ll see you in a few days. Bye Zoya.” “Bye Nik.”

“Botkin is making a reunion.” “What, when?” “I don’t know, some time after today.” Genya said. “Hold on, how do you know that?” “Didn’t he call you?” “Not that I know. Wait let me check,'' I took my phone from the table and looked at my phone log, “Oh, right I do have a missed call from an unknown caller. But do I really have to go, I mean I’ll see everyone I like tonight.” Genya sighed, “Zoya, it’s a party, you are going, you are going to have fun.” “But-” “End of discussion.” “EnD oF dIsCuSsIoN” I mocked her. “Oh, piss off. Just don’t be late.” “That’s you Kostyk. Gotta go, love you!” I ended the call. We are celebrating David’s birthday tonight, I had to go and buy him a gift. A normal person would have done that by now, but I just love to do everything last minute. I dressed up, took my wallet and went out to the hardware store. It started to rain during the taxi ride, I was, naturally unprepared for that, thus making me a bit damp when I entered the store. One of the older workers came up to me and said:”A bit unexpected, isn’t it?” “You have no idea.” I replied. “How can I help you?” “It’s my friend's birthday, and he likes to repair regular household items, or just make up new things, so i thought to buy him a new tool kit because his old one is really worn out and probably very rusty or just damaged.” “Right.”he said, “Would you like a completely new tool box, or separate objects and a tool box?” I looked around, “Well, if it were for you what would you get?” “Is there a price range?” “Not really, no. But let’s not make it more than a weekly paycheck.” After a series of isles and relentless explaining of different brands of the same monkey wrench, he recommended a box with wrenches of all sizes, seven different screwdrivers and some kind of special doorknob key that is also in different sizes and very useful. When I bought the tool box, I went to the liquor store to buy Genya’s favorite wine, but the rain hadn’t stopped. I was dripping wet when I came to their apartment. I knocked, twice, when David opened the doors, he went in for a hug, I put my finger up “No, no, we’ll do that when I’m dry.” He shrugged. “If you say so.” “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” “Thank you Zoya, come on in.” he let me through.I pointed my finger at Genya, “See, not late! And not the last one to get here.” “Not to burst your bubble, but you are the last one.” it was Mal. I looked around, Mal and Alina were on the couch, Nina sitting beside them. Toyla was on  the armchair next to the couch. Tamar and Nadia were on the loveseat opposite the couch, near the kitchen. Leoni and Adrik on the floor beside them. Genya was on a stool, her back turned. “No I'm not, Nik isn’t here”. I took off my jacket, and sat on the edge of the couches arm rest.. “Nikolai isn’t coming, his father got worse. Didn’t he tell you?” “No…” I took my phone out of my pocket, “I really need to get this serviced, don’t I?” Nina raised a glass and said: “Yes, yes you do.” I stuck out my tongue to her, “Shut up.” “To change the topic, Zoya, are you going to the reunion?” Leoni asked. I groaned. “Yes… But I don’t really want to.” “Why is that that?” “I don’t like people from highschool, plus, half of them hate me because I acted like a bitch. “ i said, “You all are enough for me.” “That’s cute.” Adrik said. I smiled, “Yeah, cute. And honestly what can we do there and not here? I mean the only highlight of that reunion is Botkin.” Genya looked at me, “Zoya. You are going. You can Ask Nikolai to come with you.” “I doubt Nik would say yes. It’s a highschool reunion full of people he doesn’t know.”   “You’d be surprised.” said Alina. “And with that comment we conclude this topic...” I said.

“That’s enough talking about food, It’s making me hungrier than I already am.” David said after an intense discussion of ‘Are Waffles Better Than Pancakes’. If you ask Nina, they are. Though, for Nina, waffles are better than anything. David stood up, “The boys and I will go to Jess’ to get pizza, you try to be nice and leave some wine for us, okay?” We started to laugh, “We’ll do our best.” said Tamar. “Oh, do you think Darina’s working?” asked Tolya. “Why?” asked Mal. “Well, she likes to draw, if she’s working, we could ask that she draws David with ketchup on one pizza, and write ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ on the other.” “Huh, could be fun.” said Adrik, as he went after the others and walked out of the flat.   “Bring umbrellas, it’s still raining!” yelled Nadia after them, “Idiots…” she muttered. I looked at Genya, “Kostyk.” “What?” “Go bring out the good wine.” I said. “Ooh, yes, bet! Alina, with me, we need to find the wine.” They stood up, and went to the kitchen. "Okay," Tamar started, "so there's this game Tolya and I used to play as kids, when the boys get back do you want to try?" "Yeah, sure." I said and turned my head towards the kitchen, "Girls, Tamar has a game idea, come here!" They stumbled back to the living room. Alina sat down and asked "What's the name of the game?" "Um, I don't really know? We always called it Nervous Breakdown, cause no one would believe Tolya, but I think it's called Werewolves." she said. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" yelled Leoni. "I think I know that game, but we called it Mafia. You played it with cards?" Genya sighed, "That's great and all, but we don't know how to play." "True." I pitched in. "Okay, so this is kinda complicated so no interruptions and questions are after I explain how the game works, cool?" Tamar asked. "Yes mom." we said in usion. "Genya, go grab the cards, rest of you sit around the table." When Genya got back and sat down, Tamar started to take the playing cards. She started explaining: "Point if the game is to find out who's the werewolf. We sit in a circle. Everybody has a card that's in front of them, that's your card and there's a card in the middle. After you see what's your card and  what role are you playing you put it down and don't touch it. You put your hand next to it and close your eyes. Then when I say your role you wake up and do your roles part "Since it's seven of us there's eight playing cards. Two Jokers, they're the werewolf, they change the middle card with anyone's card and touch the person who's card they changed. But they touch with the card not the hand. Nod if you understood." We all nodded. "Then there's a Queen, she's the helper for the werewolfs, she wakes the same time as them and does nothing during that time, but when we all wake she tries to convince the rest of us that she's the werewolf so we'd kill her instead of the real werewolf so that the werewolfs would win. "Then there's the Jacks, he's a psychic, he can see anybody's card and the middle one, but he doesn't touch and he can't see his card in case it's been changed during the werewolf time. "Next up is King, he's a thief. He changes his card with anybody's card and touches the person who's card he changed. And then there's the Aces who are villagers and do nothing." she finished. I looked at all of them one by one and started laughing. Everyone was throwing a fit, there were a lot of spilled drinks. "No joke now, I think we could try, but everytime someone makes a mistake we drink!" Nina said. "You're gonna be the first one!" We started laughing again. And after a few more useless tries, we got serious. They all had so many questions that took a long time answering, boys got back with food before we could even play. So as we ate, we tried to convince them to play, but it was useless since they were drunk off their minds. To be fair I wasn't much better. We spent the night eating and drinking. Mostly drinking. And eating. It was getting late, most of the group left. Alina, Mal and I were still at the flat. David and Mal were talking in the kitchen, Alina was in the bathroom. Genya and I were on the floor.“Zoya?” “Yeah?” “You’re drunk, right?” asked Genya. I looked up and back down, the room was wobbly. “Yeah, definitely.” “Do you like Nikolai?” “Of course I like Nik, he’s a great friend.” She shook her head, “Do you like Nikolai? Like, like-like.” “Oh…” “Well?” “I- no. Maybe, how does one know that? Is there a test I can do online?” Genya started squealing, “HA! I knew it!” She turned toward the kitchen, “I raise my bet to 20 dollars!” But I didn’t hear that. I was thinking of Nikolai, of his face when we see each other.

I came home from Genya and David’s. I showered and put on my pajamas. I fell asleep. I woke up. My phone was ringing. It’s election day. I fell asleep. I woke up. I tried to write. I tried to eat. I fell asleep. I woke up. I got another text. “We won the election. -Nik”. I fell asleep. I woke up. I failed to write. I failed to eat. I fell asleep.

When I finally decided it was time to get out of the house, I went to Dragon Scale. It was extremely windy outside so I put on a beanie. When I walked in, my head was bowed, I went full face into someone. “I’m so sorry.” I said and continued forward,when someone took my hand. I turned around and saw Nikolai. “Zoya.” “Hi.” “Why didn’t you answer my calls? Genya said you were alright but you scared me to death!” I just stared, "Zoya, talk to me!" "Can we go and sit?" I asked. He followed me as I  went to the corner booth and sat down, Nikolai a few steps behind me. "I got really drunk at Genya and David's. And I said something to Genya. And I got scared, because if it's true it might end bad for me, just like last time." "What are you talking about?" "i was in many relationships, but none were very serious until I met this guy, it was years ago, when I was in highschool. He was older than me, and I really liked him, at the beginning. But as it went on I realised he was being toxic. It… escalated." "Ecsalated how? Did he hurt you?" Nikolai asked. "No, not me, but Genya. You know that eye-patch she wears?" He nodded. "He did that, I don't know how, I was at work when it happened. I asked her to tell me but she refused, I just stopped pushing." I bowed my head. "Zoya." I looked up. "Nik, if I were to tell you that I was in love with someone, what would you do?" "I tell you that I'm happy for you and that he is an extremely lucky guy." He looked kinda sad. "And what if I told you that I'm in love with you, what would you do?" He shot up in his seat. "What?" I smiled, "I'm in love with you Nik." "I-" "Do with that what you will, but I don't want it, this, to ruin our friendship." "I'm afraid it did." He got up, leaned across the table and kissed me.

Next month was full of TV screening and restless nights as Nik and I wrote his speeches. But Botkins' reunion was soon, so he would take a few days off to have fun. I spent every free moment with Genya and Alina, shopping for the reunion. As much as I didn't want to go, shopping was fun. Genya found a dress in the same shade as her hair and Alina found a bodysuit in black and gold. I had a really hard time finding something I like. But the day before I found a perfect dress in victorian blue. Nik wore a gray suit and had this beautiful waist coat. When we got to the ball room in the Little Palace, it was already full, but we kept close to the outer ring. Most of the people were dancing, even Genya and David, but I went to talk to Botkin. "Mr. Botkin." He turned to face me, "Oh, Zoya dear, how has life been treating you?" That was his signature line, "Good. I just wanted to see how have you been doing?" "Never better dear." he looked behind me, "Now go off, there's a handsome young man waiting for a dance." "What?" I turned around and saw Nik. "Oh, thank-" he was already off to talk to someone else. I walked towards Nik. He bowed, "May I have this dance?" I looked around, nobody seemed to notice us. "Yes, yes you may." The music changed to a slow dance. We twirled around, and around. Once we stopped, I realised we were alone on the dance floor and there was a light on me. I turned to face Nik, but he was kneeling on the floor. "Nik," I said carefully, "what are you doing?" He took a box out of his inner pocket and opened it. Inside was the most beautiful emerald I have ever seen. I knew what it ment. “Would you do it?” he asked. I looked up at him, puzzled, "What?" "Well, y'know…" "No, I don't." He sighed: "Make me the happiest man alive. Would you do it?" "Yes." He got up and hugged me, I thought I was going to fall over, when these balloons started falling from the ceiling. I kissed him. "I love you." I said. He smiled, "I know." And kissed me again. When all the balloons fell, Genya came through. "Do you like it?" she asked. "What? Wait, how do you know?" "Oh silly we all knew." I looked around to see my friends standing around us, laughing. Mal said: "We had a bet on when are you getting official." Tolya raised a hand, "I won!" "You lot are unbelievable! Come one, you are being punished, this is a group hug!" That night ended up to be one of my favorites.

I didn't want to wait. We booked a venue for our closest friends. Genya bought me my wedding dress for "being strong, and being my best friend". It was a floor length dress with long sleeves. Top of my hair was in a bun, while the bottom part flowed in the wind. Alina even bought me a crown. I was walking down the aisle when someone came bursting in. I turned to see who it was. "I don't know why am I surprised, you always were a bitch." Genya answered, "What do you want Alexander?" Nik ran down to me and took my hand, "That's him?" he whispered. "Yes, stay here." I told him. "What do you mean "what do I want"? Isn't there a part when I get to the object?" I looked at him. "Alex, if you do not walk out right now, I'm gonna call the cops." "They didn't stop me then, they won't stop me now." "Ugh, you're so full of yourself." I said. Long story short, the cops stopped him. We continued with the ceremony. The priestess looked at me, then Nik and said: "If you went through that, on you wedding day, you can go through anything. Are the vows really necessary?" We shook our heads. "Then, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." And oh boy did he kiss me.

We're at McDonald's. And we're celebrating. Genya took her milkshake and stood up. Everyone followed her. "For our friends, may they have a long, happy life. Cheers!" There was a long choir of cheers going around. I sat back and looked at Nik and his Happy Meal, "Is it too early to get a divorce?" He looked me and said, with his mouth full of french fries: "Why'd gou go dhat?"

[undertalefan715]

Doing one of the ask lists for Joyce. :3 @createsy-muffin

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

Never held hands...

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

Umm.. it kinda depends sometimes.

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?

Nobody rn.

4. Are you easy to get along with?

I think so.

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

Well, one: I’m never gonna get drunk. two: I don’t think anyone would give a shit if I was drunk tbh.

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

Oh, Idk! lots.

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

God I hope so..

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

Umm.. you Joyce. heheh.. :3

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

It depends on the person I’m talking too.

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

Probably Spoony.

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

“Jeez..”

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

Oof.. Idk it’s hard for me to choose songs. ‘cause there’s always alot. :’) 

Well um.. Never and 151 Rum from J.I.D, Chris Cornell’s cover of Billie Jean, Chum from Earl Sweatshirt, Hellboy from Trippie Redd, and Pink Maggit from Deftones.

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

Omg yes yessss- (my hair is made to be pet and played with)

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

Yeah. heh.

15. What good thing happened this summer?

(it’s not summer yet)

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

Ooo, yes. (I love to think aliens exist somewhere)

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

Nope.

19. Do you like bubble baths?

Yeah, they’re pretty nice and relaxing.

20. Do you like your neighbors?

Fuck no. ugh.

21. What are you bad habits?

I really don’t know.

22. Where would you like to travel?

Japan. one day.

23. Do you have trust issues?

At times. very very rarely though.

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

Playing guitar. :> (or taking a bath)

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

My eyebrows, or my mustache. (mostly my eyebrows)

26. What do you do when you wake up?

Nothing. :/

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

Idc. but I do wish I was a bit darker.

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

Spoony and Joyce.

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

...No. I could only wish though.

30. Do you ever want to get married?

Eh.. depends.

31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail?

Oh yeah. hahah.

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

Oh, I really don’t know actually. but one of those celebrities would be Jason Momoa, ‘cause godDAMN he is fine. >u>

33. Spell your name with your chin.

.,I,KRF (omfg hah)

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

Nah.

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

Oh definitely TV. if I lived without music, I’d probably die. lol.

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

I don’t think so. no.

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

“Awkward silence..?” then I laugh.

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

Strong, cute and adorable, beautiful and pretty, sweet and caring, affectionate and loving, very cuddly and understanding, kinda feminine, funny... heh.

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

Ingles. (a small local store over here in NC. Idk if some of y’all are familiar with it)

40. What do you want to do after high school?

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

Yes.

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean?

Concentrating, or really upset/depressed.

43. Do you smile at strangers?

Yeah, sometimes. :3

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

Ooo! outer space definitely! :00

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

Nothing. (or my mom lol)

46. What are you paranoid about?

Pretty much everything.

47. Have you ever been high?

No.

48. Have you ever been drunk?

Nope.

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

Uhm.. not necessarily. 

50. What was the color of the last hoodie you wore?

Idk.. black? (everything I wear is black lol)

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

Sometimes. not often.

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

I wish I wasn’t so depressed all the time...

53. Favorite makeup brand?

I don’t do makeup.

54. Favorite store?

Guitar Center. (lol..)

55. Favorite blog?

Idk.. I have lots of faves on here. ;-;

56. Favorite color?

Black and red. (so edgy)

57. Favorite food? 

Doesn’t really matter but, probably pizza tbh.

58. Last thing you ate?

Salisbury Steak and Macaroni.

59. First thing you ate this morning?

Idk. cereal?

60. Ever won a competition? For what?

Idk, I don’t really compete.

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?

Idk. and if I did, it was probably for something completely ridiculous I didn’t do, or didn’t mean to do.

62. Been arrested? For what?

Nope. (again, am gud boyo)

63. Ever been in love? 

Yeah...

65. Are you hungry right now?

Nah.

66. Do you like your Tumblr friends more than your real friends?

Hell yeah! (I don’t even have any friends I know irl)

67. Facebook or Twitter?

Twitter of course. (the fuck is Facebook)

68. Twitter or Tumblr?

Uhm.. Tumblr.

69. Are you watching TV right now?

Bob the Builder. (don’t judge me) (also 69 heheheheheheh)

70. Names of your best friends? 

Orion, Joyce, Rivers, Sam.

71. Craving something? What?

Nah.

72. What color are your towels?

Umm.. beige and a.. dry-ish looking pink.

72. How many pillows do you sleep with?

About 4 or 5.

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

Sometimes. :’3

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

Oof, alot. :’)

75. Favorite animal?

Goats. :33

76. What color is your underwear?

...Black? (weird question but, alright)

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?

Depends, but I’ve always liked vanilla.

78. Favorite ice cream flavor?

Pretty much anything with cookies in it.

79. What color shirt are you wearing?

Dark blue.

80. What color pants?

Black with red stripes.

81. Favorite TV show?

Right now, it’s Umbrella Academy.

82. Favorite movie?

Pretty much any Pixar film.

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

Haven’t watch either. and I don’t think I will.

86. Favorite character from Finding Nemo?

Idk umm.. Gill maybe?

87. First person you talked to today?

Either Galexion or Joyce.

88. Last person you talked to today?

I think, Spoony.

89. Name a person you hate?

*sigh* Idk.

90. Name a person you love?

Pretty much all my friends. :’))

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

One of my sister’s “friends”. she’s such a fucking bitch. a fucking snake.

92. In a fight with someone?

No.

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

I don’t think any.

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

Again, I don’t think I have any. (of my own, that is)

95. Last movie you watched?

Oof, I don’t know.

96. Favorite actress?

I don’t really have one.

97. Favorite actor?

Again, don’t really have one.

98. Do you tan a lot?

Nah. (I’m as white as a ghost actually)

99. Have any pets?

2 cats. :3

100. How are you feeling?

Okay. (tired though)

101. Do you type fast?

Sometimes. not alot though.

102. Do you regret anything from your past?

Yup.

103. Can you spell well?

Nope. hahah.

104. Do you miss anyone from your past?

Yeah.. sometimes..

105. Ever been to a bonfire party?

No..?

106. Ever broken someone’s heart?

I-I hope not...

107. Have you ever been on a horse?

Yes! I was REALLY young though. :’)

108. What should you be doing?

Lots of things... u_u

109. Is something irritating you right now?

No.

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

Yeah...

111. Do you have trust issues?

No. but rn someone is really testing my trust.

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?

I... I’m not sure.

113. What was your childhood nickname?

Idk, I can’t really remember rn...

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?

The furthest I’ve been is tennessee. and that’s right next to us. lol..

115. Do you play the Wii?

Yeah. (I have different 3 Wii’s actually lmao)

116. Are you listening to music right now?

Yeah. Love Hurts. from Incubus..

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?

Fuck yeah!!!

118. Do you like Chinese food?

Not really.

119. Favorite book?

Oof.. Idk.

120. Are you afraid of the dark?

No, not really.

121. Are you mean?

I... probably am rn...

122. Is cheating ever okay?

No. never.

123. Can you keep white shoes clean?

Shoes?

124. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Of course. heheh. uwu

125. Do you believe in true love?

Ofc! >u<

126. Are you currently bored?

Yeah. :T

127. What makes you happy?

Goat boys, my friends, music. etc.

128. Would you change your name?

Nah, I like it. :3

129. What your zodiac sign?

Aries/Pisces cusp. :>

130. Do you like subway?

Nah.

131. Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

Well, I’ll probably have the same feelings. heheh.

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

(didn’t I do this one before?)

133. Favorite lyrics right now?

“Pardon me, while I burst a flame, I’ve had enough of the world, and it’s peoples mindless games.” - Pardon Me from Incubus. (and lots of other lyrics, but that one is stuck in my mind)

134. Can you count to one million?

Hell no. lmao

135. Dumbest lie you ever told?

Pretty much all lies I’ve told. (I can not lie for shit. which can be a good thing I guess)

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

I like them opened, but sometimes I gotta close them ‘cause of my cats. :T

137. How tall are you?

5′8.

138. Curly or Straight hair?

“Straight” hair.

139. Brunette or Blonde?

Brunette.

140. Summer or Winter?

Idk.. I think winter. uwu

141. Night or Day?

Both. but mostly night sometimes.

142. Favorite month?

March. :>

143. Are you a vegetarian?

Nope. lmao.

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?

Milk or white chocolate. dark has always been kinda gross. Idk.

145. Tea or Coffee?

Neither. hot cocoa. :3

146. Was today a good day?

Eh. it was a day.

147. Mars or Snickers?

Eh. neither really.

148. What’s your favorite quote?

Ah.. Idk. I can’t really think of any...

149. Do you believe in ghosts?

Sometimes. :0

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page? 

Um... I can’t rn. it’s a bit late...

[collidinggalaxiesofstars]

The Princess, The Sorceress, and The Pixie (Vixya)

A/N: This is for the Christmas Fic Exchange by the @rpdrficexchange and was made  for the lovey @czarina-chachki that includes Season 7 faves- Violet, Trixie, and Katya (Fame and Adore wanted to make appearances as well). This story is a Peter Pan, Wizard of Oz, Narnia, and Harry Potter inspired world that all overlap to create a new one! I’m sorry this is is a bit long, but I hope you enjoy it babe!

And Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

--

Once upon a time not so near as yesterday, but not so long ago lived a princess in a kingdom far…

“Really bitch? That’s how you want to tell this story?”

It’s tradition!

“Tradition can kiss my ass. This is my story and I’m going to tell it my way.”

Suit yourself, don’t come crying to me when you break Tumblr’s word count  with your run on mouth.

“Whatever. I’m the modern day ‘People’s Princess,’ and before you ask, no, not Diana, no one else could ever be that tragic. I’m Violet Chachki, and this is my story full of deceit, betrayal, and lies, and that’s just my mother, never mind the rest of my royally fucked up family, we’ll get to them later. My father, the King died when I was 17, and my mother claimed the title of Queen of Hybridonia, a pretty common name for a kingdom where the rulers are people and the subjects are half animals and the other half dimwitted human twats.. Just for the record, I was supposed to take over at 18, but those ridiculous hybrids thought I was too much of a bitch, I don’t know where they got that idea from. Anyway, before I run the risk of droning on like my cousin Fame, I’ll take you back to where it all began, the fateful day of my 18th birthday.”

—-

“Mother, do I really have to stay here?”

“It’s your 18th birthday Violet, of course you have to. Look at your cousin Fame over there, socializing with the avian hybrids. Why can’t you be more like her?”

I’m about to make one of my usual retorts when I’m interrupted by a creature with a male face and a lower goat half.

“Hello Prime Minister Satyr,” my mother moves her gloved hand forward for him to kiss.

“My dear, have you told your daughter of our arrangement?”

“It’s her 18th birthday, I wouldn’t want to spoil it for her.”

“Hello, I’m right here!” I was forced to interrupt.

“It’s nothing to worry about dear,” my mother said with a thick sweetness in her voice.

“Bullshit, what’s going on?”

“Your mother and I are getting married,” Prime Minister Satyr explains.

“So?”

“You won’t be Queen.”

“WHAT?”

“With our marriage, it will allow us to rule together as absolute monarchs. You’re out, I’m terribly sorry.”

I felt shocked, even a witty comeback wasn’t in order then, my heart sank to the pit of my stomach, as if I was going to cry, but none shed. I was too strong to break in front of the likes of them.

“Is there any other way?” my voice comes out shakily from the shock.

“Only if you can prove you are pure and good,” the Prime Minister replied.

“Like that'll ever happen,” my mother and the Prime Minister cackle sinsterly at me, I should have thought twice before I asked my next question, but I was young and foolish then.

“What about in the fairy tales? They’re must be a quest I can take. I need to be Queen, I have to be Queen!” I demand, stomping my heel so far into the floor it leaves a crack in its marble.

“There’s nothing I can do, unless you can find a sorceress who will make you pure. I doubt anyone would be so foolish to disobey the law,” the harsh laugh of the Prime Minister and my mother follows.

“Then that’s what I’ll do!”

They laugh harder, walking away from me, their hands tightly clasped together to keep each other from toppling over in laughter.

I kick off my stilettos, running up the long stairs of the palace from the entryway, taking them two by two, the last thing I remember before reaching my room is looking down from the very top- the glittering dresses, shined hooves, combed manes, and top hats. My heart pounded as I ran through the hall, slamming the heavy door to my room which left behind a resounding bang.

I opened my window, a single for my best friend, Trixie, a mortal pink pixie who’d been living in the tree across from my bedroom window for as long as I can remember. Despite the occasional argument and slammed windows, we’ve remained the best of friends.

“Hello!” Trixie flew in, pink pixie dust littering the room.

I remember the shock on her face when I filled her in on the details, as I threw everything into a bag, ready to leave.

“Oh honey, I’m coming with you,” Trixie says excitedly.

“You are?” I could feel my heart fill with joy that someone still had faith in me, at least that somebody still loved me.

“Of course, what would I do without my best friend?”

“We’re going to do it Trix! We’re going to get our kingdom back and I’ll be Queen!”

“Shit,” I mumbled, hearing the footsteps and my name being called out through the halls.

“The window!” Trixie quickly sprinkles pixie dust onto my back which lifted me up and straight out the window.

“Where are we going?” I yelled out to Trixie.

“You’ll last till the beach, face your legs downwards when you’re ready to land.”

Flying up in the air for the first time was incredible, as if the blue skies and sunshine would never end, the world below looked small and insignificant. For  the first time I felt free, and there was no one I trusted more to help me than Trixie. I remember a warm and fuzzy feeling rush over me that I’d never experienced before, maybe it’s true what they say, the heart of a Grinch can grow three sizes in one day.

“Vi, we’re going down now, get ready to land,” Trixie screams into the wind, thankfully waking me from my thoughts and back into concentration.

Holy Shit I was flying.

I stumbled as we landed on a white pebbled beach, all was calm, as mermaids and mermen casually swam in the ocean waters.

I collapsed into the sand by the ocean, trying to catch my breath from the flight.

Trixie swooped down behind me, “you got to work on that landing girl,” she says, perching on my shoulder as she so often did.

“I…” I’m interrupted by a beautiful vocal riff, coming from somewhere in the distance.

“Must be a Mermaid,” Trixie theorizes, “you were saying?”

I didn’t  remember what I was saying, the voice entranced me as I looked deep into the ocean waters.

“Earth to Violet,” Trixie waved a hand in front of my face.

A blue haired mermaid appeared with a long black scaled tale.

I carefully approached the ripples of the tide, staring into the beautiful smoky eyes of the mermaid before her.

“I’m Adore. You guys really shouldn’t be in these parts, it’s not exactly the safest area to be.”

“Crash landing,” I smiled, “I’m Violet and this is my friend Trixie.”

“Hi,” Trixie waves.

“Party,” Adore smiles at us, “where are you off to?”

“It’s difficult to explain.”

“Looking for a sorceress, right?”

“How…”

“A mermaid knows all,” she winks.

“Do you know where we can find one?” Trixie pipes up from behind me.

“Yeah, there’s one down a few miles where the land changes. You know, beach to forest.”

“Yeah, we do, thanks,” I smiled.

“Lovely to meet you Princess,” Adore bows her head, before giving me a wink goodbye and swam back into the blue.

“C’mon Girl, we’ve got magic to do,” Trixie pulls me away from the edge of the water, “I don’t have anymore dust left for you.”

“It’s okay, let’s just walk,” I turn to the direction that Adore had pointed out, walking the miles ahead with determination, and silence, letting the beautiful scenery pass them by.

I remember the moment when we arrived at the fateful point where the neverending ocean and the beach met with the forest.

“Here we are,” I took a deep breath, opening the gate that separates the two worlds.

A tall blonde woman appeared before us, “come, come, I’ve been expecting you,” her words echo through the trees, as she led us to a little hut, at the border between the two lands.

We found out her name was Katya, a sorceress with five generations of sorcery lineage behind her. I found her fast way of speaking and constant movements totally insane, but I knew by the smile on Trixie’s face that she was charmed with infatuation, little did I know, I would soon be too.

“I hear you are the only one who can make me Queen again.”

Katya’s eyes rake over me, before saying, “you are a sorceress at heart.”

“Whatever, I want to be queen.”

“You have the power inside you you to make that happen, you don’t need me,” Katya informed us, using her hand to shoo us away.

“You don’t get off that easily, we came all this way to see you!” I stomp my feet, feeling on the verge of tears as Trixie tries to comfort me.

“Perhaps I was wrong,” Katya says witnessing the scene, “you have three days of observation, I’ll know how to help you by then.”

Those three days passed by quickly, in the mornings Katya would serve tea, and read my palms, by lunch she had read my tarot cards, and by dinner she had guided us in a crystal meditation. More often than not, I’d find her with her notepad observing my every motion, or huddled in a corner whispering with Trixie, who she’d affectionately named Tracey over the last few days. We were all close, and happy, really fucking happy.

By the second night, cold wind began to blow into the hut, forcing the three of us to huddle together under the sheets of Katya’s small rickety bed. Despite the confined space we all shared, I felt as though there was more than I ever had in the palace.

On the third day, Katya made tea for us early in the morning, and left us to our own devices for the day, I knew Katya’s final verdict on my Queendom would come soon, and I could feel myself one edge in great anticipation of her decision.

Katya arrives late in the evening, a glass bottle of a milky white potion in her hand.

“I can make you pure,” Katya informed me matter of factly, I could see the sadness behind her eyes as she does so, “if you take this, you leave all this behind and become Queen. No one will ever look at you with displeasure or remember who you were before.” She hands the potion over to me coldly.

I can recall the internal debate with myself, the hesitation and connotations behind taking the potion. A queen would never stoop so low to change herself, all the signs in the universe were telling me no. If I’m to be queen, fate will control it, as destiny controls us all.

“I’m not taking it,” I announce firmly, handing it back to a softly smiling Katya and a shocked Trixie.

Suddenly, white and gold glow hazes and radiates around me, angelic wings sprout out my back, I couldn’t believe this venture has been in utter vanity, Katya was right!

“Told you so,” Katya smiles smugly.

“She was pure this whole time?” Trixie questions, as I flutter about in my new wings, trying to maintain my balance much to Katya’s amusement.

“Of course, she was the one who didn’t believe me at the start.”

Trixie laughs, “she is quite stubborn.”

“Just one more thing to love about her,” Katya winks, sensing a new founded relationship between the three of us.

“So what’s next Vi?” Trixie asked me, shifting gears to my new transformation.

“I don’t know guys. I’m perfectly content to never be Queen, I think.”

Trixie raises an eyebrow in question.

“I want to dedicate my life to all that is good, to you two, to love and friendship and helping others. Afterall, I look like a fucking Christmas angel.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Katya laughs, and Trixie and I laugh right along with her.

Everything was going to be good from here on in.

[tuckinpodcast-blog]

EPISODE TWO: THE QUEERING OF RUDOLPH VALENTINO

LISTEN: SOUNDCLOUD / ITUNES

NOTES: You can kinda hear my cat crying  this one. (Give me a break, I’m one man recording in my bedroom after my day job.)

SOURCES: listed at the end of transcript

TRANSCRIPT:

Hi. Welcome to Tuck In, We’re Rolling: Queer Hollywood Stories. I’;m Jack, and this week and this week, we’re going to be talking about the queering of Rudolph Valentino. Rudolph Valentino is kind of an interesting person to talk about and I mentioned in, uh, in the episode before this, Episode Zero, that he’s not gay. And we will get to why we’re talking about him Now, I want to talk a little bit about the context of this story. This mostly takes place in the 1920′s, and as most people, I feel, are aware this was like -- the Great Jazz Age, you know, it gave us the -- The Great Gatsby, and the flapper revolution; these girls who smoked a lot of cigarettes and you know, didn’t necessarily want to be tired down. And you know, they did all of these fun things, and it was, you know, it was a mini sexual revolution and there was a lot of ambivalence towards gender roles.

And this is where our boy Rudy Valentino comes into play.

Rudolph Valentino was born in Italy, in Castalanetta – not a paisan, but we'll forgive him. He was born in 1895, and he immigrated to the United States through Ellis Island in 1913. While he was in New York, he made his way as something called a “tango pirate” or a “lounge lizard”. These are very funny names for basically what amounts to a high end male escort. He would take uh, rich older women dancing and spend time with them. And interestingly, this is how Clark Gable and Cary Grant made their living before they became famous.

But, I digress. RV first came into the public eye in 1915 during a divorce trial for a Chilean heiress at which he was giving testimony. And this is when the world kind of first looked at him like, “Who the heck is this guy?” He's very obviously foreign, he's very dark-looking, he's very slim, and there's something just very feminine about him. Now, in the course of this divorce trial, the husband of the heiress had him arrested and put away so that he couldn't give any more testimony, and shortly after he's released off of these um, these charges, the heiress murders her husband. And this point is when Valentino says, “You know, maybe I should get out of town for a little while.”

So, he does. And he goes to Hollywood, and when he gets to Hollywood, he finds a ton of rich older ladies who want to take care of him, and they do. They pay him to teach them how to dance and they give him cars to use. And they – at the same time, he's kind of snapped up to play bit parts by Paramount. And around this time is when he decides to marry a woman by the name of Jean Acker. And this is a huge mistake. Jean Acker is a lesbian who locks him out of their hotel room on their wedding night. That's another story for another day, but let's get back to Valentino himself.

In 1921, he makes a movie called The Four Horseman of the Apocalypse, and this is kind of an important movie because it's one of the highest grossing silent films ever. And in 1921 he also made a movie called The Sheik. And, I'll – things like this are gonna come up a couple of times, where Hollywood doesn't want to cast actual people of color in roles like this. So they look at someone who looks like Valentino, very obviously foreign, very dark, and they're like, “Well, he's fine. We'll use him.” And I don't want to shy away from things like this because I feel like not mentioning it is denying that it ever happened. And yes, it was wrong, but this is what happened.

So after he makes The Sheik, this guy named Dick Dorgan – and that's, I'm not making that up – a guy named Dick Dorgan writes in Photoplay magazine – and Photoplay is kind of the Teen Beat or People of silent era film – and this is a direct quote and the language is a little strong, but it's a direct quote as I said. Dick Dorgan wrote, “The sheik is a bum Arab. He's really an Englishman who's mother is a wop or something.”

Now, this is kind of the first time since Rudolph Valentino has become a movie star that someone's really kinda of thrown down the gauntlet or come at him like this, and he's pretty pissed off about it – I mean, I would be too. So he tries to get Dick Dorgan banned from the studio, and Photoplay is like, “Oh, we're sorry, it won't happen again, you know – the next time we run an article about you, babe, don't worry about it. It's gonna be super positive.”

And then, of course, Photoplay publishes another article that's called A Song Of Hate. And it's supposedly, uh, like a good-natured like, “haha, this guy dances too well and he looks too good, haha, isn't that funny?” But it goes on to say some pretty strong stuff about his 'Roman face', 'patent leather hair', and it made a lot of references to his frilly costumes and the fact that they used to put him in earrings, and he had all this – long eyelashes and he was really pretty. And it is true, I found this picture earlier and I'm gonna reblog it onto the blog later so you folks can take a look at it. I don't know what movie it's from but he's decked out head to toe in pearls. So they did have a point about the costuming, but he was understandably pretty angry about it.

So, in 1922, amidst all of this stuff happening, he gets married to a woman named Natacha Rambova. And Natacha Rambova is … another foreign born person, she's a Russian costume designer, and she is a hard bitch in charge. She's gorgeous. I've reblogged a picture of her as well so you can take a look at her, but she's seen as this really controlling um, you know, strong woman who's steering him in a direction that he shouldn't necessarily be going. And it didn't really help his image as this kind of, like, soft effeminate man. And in 1922 he also stops, or, uh cancels his contract with Paramount and he splits from the studios. And this is seen as even more evidence of Rambova's quote-unquote “controlling influence”.

And people are writing about this, people are talking about this, and it's really, it's kind of – he's still getting very upset about it. So in 1923, he decides to pose for a magazine called How to Keep Fit, and he says, “I'm gonna take my shirt off, and I'm gonna pose, and I'm gonna look really strong, and no one's gonna question me anymore.” Now, I've seen pictures from this shoot. It's lit like a boudoir shot. It's lit like Rita Hayworth's famous Gilda pin-up. He's all soft light and brooding eyes and he just – looks like a pin-up. And it doesn't help him, and instead of people looking at – at these photos of him you know, uh, basically naked and instead of them saying “Wow! That man is super manly!” they look at it and they go, “Oh. That's – that's kinda sad.” So, also during this time, to keep him and – and Natacha afloat, he teaches dance lessons and judges beauty pageants. Really not helping himself, but, simpler times I suppose.

Um, now, after – around 1924, um, he goes back to Hollywood, and he hooks up with Charlie Chaplin and United Artists. And United Artists is a really cool thing, uh, I'm not really gonna talk about Charlie Chaplin, um, or United Artists, but it is a really cool story and you should look it up yourself, it's really interesting. But he makes a movie, again trying to disprove his femininity, called Monsiuer Beaucaire – and I'm sorry if I butchered that pronunciation, I do not speak French. He is overtly feminine in it. He is dressed up in a powdered wig and makeup, with a little fake beauty mark like a – like a French revolutionary fop. It's … it's very bad, I mean, his shirts are undone to his navel and he's got all this makeup and ruffles. And it, it really just – doesn't help him.

And around this time, he's also forced to make a uh, sequel to The Sheik, which originally cemented him as America's foremost, famous, foreign lover. And, he makes this movie, and Photoplay publishes yet another article, this one by a gentleman named Herbert Howe, and I'm gonna quote this directly: “The movie boys haven't been the same since The Four Horsemen.” And Herbert Howe goes on to point out all these feminine qualities in all these leading men. But that really wasn't what got Valentino's goat.

In July of 1926, after seeing a powder vending machine in a public men's restroom, an anonymous author in the Chicago Tribune, writes a pretty scathing article – it's almost infamous at this point, and uh, people start referring to Valentino as “The Pink Powderpuff” because of this article. And I'm gonna quote it directly because uh, the language is a little strong once again, but I won't do it justice trying to paraphrase it without direct quote. So, this is what it said: “A powder vending machine! Homo Americanus! Why didn't someone drown Rudolph Guglielmo, alias Valentino, years ago? [ … ] Do women like this type of 'man' who pats pink powder on is face in a public washroom and arranges his coiffure in a public elevator?”

The long and the short answer is: yeah. Women loved him. And I think it's around this time that it really comes to the forefront that men just really hate what women like or adore. And they sort of, um, equate anything women are associated with as being something that's unmasculine. I mean, think about it, to this day some men see housework and childrearing as quote-unquote “women's work”. And I mean, they even see feminism as something that's you know, rebellious, or something that they shouldn't be associated with. And, you know, men hate musical acts and performers or even some actors that women like. Um, you know, boy bands, female pop artists, think about Justin Beiber, One Direction, even Taylor Swift. You know, straight men aren't allowed to like things like that, which is a damn shame, in my personal opinion. I mean, even think about, um, Jai Courtney's character in, uh, Suicide Squad, Captain Boomerang. He has a pink unicorn, he's obsessed with unicorns, and he hides it in its jacket because – in his jacket because it's a shameful thing. And we're supposed to be laughing at it, it's not supposed to be – you know, it's, we're poking fun at him because he likes unicorns.

And, in the 1920's, the flapper movement kind of started this fear in men that strong women would be their downfall. They started breaking away from these social norms and this terrified men, and they panicked. And, in the same Chicago Tribune article, the 'pink powderpuff' article, it also said: “Better a rule by masculine women than feminine men.”

And Valentino's sex appeal added to his feminine quality instead of taking away from it, or building up his masculinity. And it exacerbated society's anxiety about strong, seemingly masculine women, uh, you know, based on his marriage to Natacha Rambova. Um, it – it – around this time he was often compared to the hyper-masculine Douglas Fairbanks Senior, who is a very, um, masculine gentleman. I've also included some photos of him on the blog. You know, and I've seen a photo of Dougie Fairbanks Senior, where he has an earring on, I think he's some kind of pirate or something, I haven't really uh, looked into what it's from, but it doesn't have the same effect on someone who's, for lack of a better word, as meaty-looking as Dougie Fairbanks as it did on someone as delicate and frankly, pretty, as Rudolph Valentino.

And um, Rudolph Valentino died very young, on August 23, 1926 at age 31. And, women were the vast majority of the mourners. I've seen numbers that range anywhere from 1,000 to 100,000 flappers flooding the streets, tearing off their clothes, trampling through the funeral home. Um, at the time of his death he was supposedly engaged to actress Pola Negri, who literally fainted onto his coffin.

Now, as I said at the beginning of the show, there's no evidence that Valentino was gay. There's no evidence that Natacha Rambova was gay. So, why am I gonna devote an entire episode to him, in a queer history show? I mean, why am I even mentioning him at all?

What happened to Rudolph Valentino is kind of a cautionary tale. He's what happened to early stars when they were perceived as less than ultra-masculine, even if they were well loved. Even if they were good actors, and especially if they were well-loved by women. It wasn't enough that women loved him, men had to want to be him, and almost none of them did. Valentino was 'othered' for being foreign, effeminate, and a “threat” to traditional masculine roles, both in society and in films. He's what happened when the public eye turned sour, and what happens when someone kinda protests too much. Here we have the beginning of men rejecting feminine men and especially women's favorite, both in Hollywood and in – and elsewhere. Uh, maybe Valentino's story contributed to the quote-unquote “celluloid closet” that so many stars later in their life found themselves in. I mean, here's a guy who's a really good actor, but because he's seen as this overtly feminine person, he's completely shut off and completely shut down. So maybe other stars were kind of looking at him and thinking, “Well, geez, if – if people know that I'm uh, that I have sex with other men, I'm never gonna work in this town again.”

So, two interesting facts before I leave you for real. Um, Rudolph Valentino's death left kind of a gaping hole at Paramount Studios, and Paramount Studios was kind of in a fix at the time anyway because, uh, they were one of the last studios to uh, convert to talkies. And they – this was already during the Great Depression, when ticket sales and the movie business itself was just hemorrhaging money. So they were so desperate to replace him with a leading man that they replaced him with Cary Grant. And that's why we have the Cary Grant that we know and love. Um, my other second interesting fact is that I had no idea that in uh, American Horror Story: Hotel, Fin Wittrock actually plays Rudolph Valentino or something? And like there's an actress who plays uh, Natacha Rambova. So, when I was going through the tumblr tags trying to find photos of him to like, actually reblog and, so that when people went on they could see what he looked like and see what I was talking about, I couldn't find many. The tag is just flooded with American Horror Story fans, and I realize my um, that my frustration at this is very ironic in the context of this story, but I was still pretty frustrated.

So, thank you for listening to Tuck In, We're Rolling: Queer Hollywood Stories. This episode was researched, recorded, and kind of edited by me, Jack Segreto. You can find a transcript of this episode and all of our episodes along with our sources and some other fun facts and photos on our tumblr, tuckinpodcast.tumblr.com. You can also give us a like on Facebook at facebook.com/tuckinpodcast. On tumblr, our ask box is open for comments and suggestions, or you can always message us on Facebook. We are on Soundcloud, and as of a couple of hours ago, we are officially on the iTunes Store! So please rate and subscribe to us there so that more people can find us and listen to us. Special thanks today to my friend Greg, who taught me how to properly record without getting that weird tinny reverb, and also special thanks to my friend Min, for being my very first subscriber on iTunes. So, thanks for listening to Tuck In, We're Rolling: Queer Hollywood Stories. I hope to see you next time.

SOURCES:

One Hundred Years Of Men Taking Off Their Shirts by Anne Helen Petersen (BUZZFEED)

The “Latin Lover” and His Enemies by Gilbert King (SMITHSONIAN MAGAZINE)

My dumb high school history class where I had to sit through lots of lectures on the Roaring 20′s and never though any of it would do me any good.

Cary Grant: A Memoir by Marc Eliot (2004, Rebel Road Inc.)

[bleep0bleep]

hi carrie, i just found out one of the cats we've had for a good decade is having to be put down and i was wondering if you had any feel good sterek/zimbits fic recs to make me less sad? maybe where they have pets and and super happy bc in fanfiction the cruel reality of outliving your pets doesn't exist? hope you're having a better day than me :)

i’m so sorry to hear about your cats, bb. i know that you are sad that you outlived them, but i hope you can think of it as you giving them the best lives that they had while they were here, and i bet your cat appreciated and loved you a lot.

here are some fluffy sterek fics featuring pets and i hope you feel better soon. ❤❤❤

Light Up My World Like Nobody Else by lissadiane (T, 6k) In which Stiles Stilinski has a little too much to drink, and steals a baby goat.

Care and Feeding by otter (T, 3k) Derek desperately needs to fire the newest volunteer at the kitten nursery. Mostly because the guy keeps saying things.

BunBun the Bunny by DomesticatedChaos (G, 6k) Derek gets a pet. It’s not what anyone expects. 

Barking Bad by lazarusthefirst (E, 28k) ‘I wish you wouldn’t call the dogs “customers”, Derek,’ Cora complained, rubbing an acetone-soaked rag over her jeans to get the paint splashes off. ‘It’s not like they pay or anything.’‘I cut off their nails and Kira pins bows to their collars,’ Derek said, flatly. ‘They pay, alright.’

I Know Who I Want To Take Me Home by WhoNatural (T, 5k) "I was digging in my garden and I found your time capsule with a bunch of weird stuff in it, sorry I went through it" AU (That’s not exactly what happens, but kind of.)

derek has too many cats by pantstomatch (T, 2k) “I thought it would be funny,” Scott says. His smile wavers. “It’s not?” Stiles looks at the lock screen of his phone again—Derek is scowling at the camera, Henley unbuttoned. He looks sleep-mussed and unamused and there are two fuzzy balls of floof cradled in his arms. One is pawing at Derek’s mouth, the other is asleep in the curve of his elbow. Both are stripy orange and fluffy-furred with pink noses and pink beans, they are so super cute it makes Stiles’s eyes water a little. “No, Scott,” Stiles says slowly, “it is not.” What it is is devastating, never mind the fact that Stiles immediately set the picture as his wallpaper as soon as Scott sent it to him.

Dog’s Best Friend by otter (G, 9k) Other people might have found the name of the place off-putting. Stiles didn’t. He was actually relieved, when Scott handed him a business card that said “HALEHOUNDS” across the top, because clearly, if anybody could recognize and understand the evil that lurked within his dog’s fluffy precious body, it was these people.

Puppy Love by Jerakeen (T, 7k) "You stole half the dogs in town,“ his dad says, hands on his hips. “I should arrest you.” “They’re in protective custody,” Stiles corrects him. He’s trying to sound serious, but it’s almost impossible when you have a Pomeranian eating your hair.

why do birds suddenly appear by trilliastra (G, 1k) “I’m going to kill you.” Derek says. “I’m going to kill you then bring you back just so I can kill you again.” He glares which would be more scary if there wasn’t a bunny trying to make its way under Derek’s shirt and two birds building a nest on the top of his head. In which a spell goes wrong and suddenly Derek is being followed by all kinds of cute animals.

best in show by thegirlgrey (T, 9k) Derek adopts a cat. Or the cat adopts Derek. It all depends on who’s telling the story really.(Stop telling people the cat is psychic, Stiles.)

five times Derek and Stiles weren’t actually boyfriends (and one time they were) by halfffizzbin (T, 3k) In which Derek and Stiles are essentially a married couple. Except they’re not actually dating.

Of Dogs and Dads by nighunpossible (G, 1k) Beleaguered dad Derek has a dog who wanders into Stiles’ house for daily naps.

Introducing Miss Ladybug Lydia Stilinski by 1001cranes (T, 2k) When Stiles adopts a vampire kitten, no one really believes him.“It’s like the vampire abyss stared into the werewolf abyss and decided they need to be bros,” Stiles whispers, horrified.

Interspecies Friendships Are The Best by hazelnglasz (T, 1k)  i thought your large dog was going kill my cat but they seem to really like each other, and maybe i kinda like you too au.

Full On Rainstorm by BarlowGirl (E, 11k) He catches Derek by the arm and Derek lets himself be turned, surprised when Stiles shoves a small box into his hands. “I don’t know if you still celebrate it or what but… I wanted you to know someone was thinking about you. Happy birthday.” Then he squeezes Derek’s arm and bolts, gone before Derek can think to stop him. He opens the box standing there, only to find one singular, misshapen, sloppily-frosted, cupcake, with a candle in the box next to it. It’s kind of squished despite the paper towel all around it to keep it from banging around in the box.Derek has to take a moment to sit down because yeah, he can’t deny it anymore.He’s gone on Stiles.

Another Brilliant Idea, Steinberg! by calrissian18 (T, 3k) ‘Get a dog, or get a therapist.’ A dog had to be less annoying.

and home before dark by verity (G, 3k) The mystery of the absent Hale brother was hardly a mystery at all until he appeared at last, set on taking up residence out in the woods.(In which Derek is a hedgewitch. With a cat.)

The Obvious Solution to Obliviousness is Kittens, Obviously by crossroadswrite (G, 2k) (708): This is worse than naked and afraid. This is drunk and confused. (409): Fuck baseball, getting drunk and playing with kittens is the REAL national pastime. When Doctor Deaton calls Scott to come pick Stiles up, he’s not really sure what to expect.Stiles was supposed to be over at Derek’s watching the ball game and pretending not to be in love with him, not here doing whatever the hell it is he’s doing.He slowly pushes the back door open and sees Stiles on the floor with about seven cats on top of him, petting them and cooing into their soft fur.“Stiles,” he says carefully, “what are you doing?”

Garden Variety by lissadiane (G, 11k) In which Stiles Stilinski attempts to finish his first draft of his new novel while being utterly distracted by the shenanigans happening next door - which generally involve his hot new neighbour engaging in physical labour. Whether it's a hoe, a trowel, a hammer or a nail gun, watching Derek get dirty and sweaty is a thousand times more interesting than meeting a deadline.Stiles has a crush and a dog, Derek has baggage and a little girl, and together, they just might make it work.

[onlyonewoman]

A Family As Weird As Ours

Ficlet I may use later in my ace lowbones verse. This is when Billy and Ned are very new daddies and John and James get to meet little Roisin for the first time. This happens about 3,5 years after “Down Foreverdark Woods Trail” series. *** ”Can I hold her?” John was practically beaming when Ned carefully placed the little bundle in his arms. Roisin looked at the new face like she wasn’t sure wheather to start screaming or not. Ned hoovered over with a smile. ”Gonna say hi to uncle John, Roisin?” ”I’m hardly her uncle, Ned.” John’s protest was not serious and Billy smiled. ”Since I have no siblings and you and James are my closest friends, I think there’s a pretty huge risk you’ll be her uncles of honour. Right, babe?” ”Quite huge.” Billy kissed his husband. They were both a little tired and mostly in awe over their one month old daughter. Mary Read watched them from the carpet and Ned bent down to pet her. ”Hey there, girl. Don’t worry. Haven’t forgotten ’bout ye.” Roisin started protesting and Ned very gently took her back. Billy looked at his husband and daughter with awe. Ned had his hair in a ponytail and wore a Behemoth t-shirt. He held their little girl so carefully in his arms. John looked at her babygro. ”I take it the rule about no band logos on babies got overruled.” Billy snorted. ”You mean I got overruled. Never had a chance to make an actual rule about it.” ”Wanker.” Ned grinned and Billy gave him a soft tug in the hair. Their daughter’s babygro was black with the Bathory goat printed on it. Ned smiled at John. ”Don’t worry. This little bundle has plenty of colorful stuff too.” ”I’m already planning our first uncle and niece of honour clothes shopping… I strongly feel she’ll need me, since you two have no taste what so ever.” ”Hey!” ”Look who’s talking!” John just laughed and let Roisin grab his finger. The human poodle, by the way dressed in a cyan blue v-neck t-shirt and brown slacks and not exactly a fashion oracle, looked a little mesmerized by her. ”How big a risk? For the uncle thing?” Billy exchanged a look with Ned and then cleared his throat. ”Well, you two are family and you, John, are the closest I’ve ever had to a brother so…” John immedately got teary-eyed and James, as always a bit uncomfortable with that, frowned and handed his husband a tissue. Billy patted John’s shoulder and got pulled down for a kiss on cheek. Then the human poodle grinned. ”It just happens that I went on a little shopping trip a while ago and…” The other three men groaned in unison and John’s smile widened. He left the sofa, walked out in the hallway and came back with a bag. James sighed and his husband pinched him. He gave Billy the bag containing a pair of soft ballerina baby slippers in pink satin and small teddy in ballet clothes. Ned almost squeaked. ”God, John, they’re adorable! How did ye even find them?” ”Lets just say an old dancer has his connections.” John practically beamed and James tried to look unaffected but failed. Billy gave them a teasing look. ”Sure you’re not re-thinking this childfree thing, John?” ”No way, mama. I just want to be a very gay uncle who can show this little bundle where to shop, how to dance, which guys and girls to avoid and how to get away with murder.” Billy smiled. He didn’t mean a word about John changing his mind. Roisin yawned and Ned arranged the blue baby sling and rose from the sofa. ”She sleeps faster if ye walk around with’er.” He started walking with the bundle and Billy made more tea. James entangled a hand in his husband’s unruly curls. ”You think that would work with poodles too?” ”Say that again and I’ll send your mother nudes on you.” ”Fucks sake, John!” ”Gross!” The two ace husbands made disgusted faces and James muttered something about giving John a cold bath and follow Billy’s and Ned’s example with separate bedrooms. John looked hurt. ”You don’t love me anymore.” ”Separate bedrooms doesn’t mean you don’t love each other. Just look at Ned and Billy.” Billy refilled the teacups. ”Actually we mostly share beds. Especially now.” Ned, who walked around with their now almost sleeping daughter, rocking her gently, nodded at his husband. ”Hon, can ye get me the pills?” ”Of course, babe.” John looked at Ned, smiling very mild. ”Are you tired, Ned?” ”No more than other new parents, I guess. Don’t worry, John, ti’s me regular afternoon meds.” The reassuring smile that reached Ned’s one seeing eye, was warm. John didn’t let people close easily, but the few he opened up to, he cared deeply for. Billy put the pill in Ned’s mouth and handed over a glass of water. The bundle was now asleep on her da’s chest and James obliviously stroke away one of his husband’s unruly curls. ”What’s she gonna call you?” Billy, who was embracing his husband and daughter from behind, resting his chin on Ned’s hair, looked surprised. ”Daddy and da, of course.” ”And who’s which one?” ”Ned’s Irish, James. Who do you think will be da?” John laughed at them. ”I bet she’ll call you Marky Mark and One-Eye.” ”Oh, piss off, uncle poodle.” There was no heat in Ned’s voice and John beamed again, nudging James who swirled a freckled arm around his human poodle in a, for him, unusually affectionate way around others. ”Are you gonna have a christening?” Ned shook his head. ”We’re not Christian, so that would be a bit hypocritical. And besides, we’d just end up in a fight between me parents. Da hasn’t gotten over our wedding yet, and he’d raise hell if we’d get her baptized in another church than the Catholic. And then he’d start nagging at maw, then me siblings and the rest of our family.” ”But… you’ve been married for almost six years. He’s not over that yet?” ”Of course not. He’s a complete eejit and always has been.” ”Your mother’s happy tho?” James looked concerned and Ned smiled. ”She’s over the moon.” He kissed the tiny, curly head in the baby sling. John nodded at her. ”Where were her biological parents from?” ”Her maw was Lebanese but her da’s unknown.” ”So, half Lebanese with one English and one Irish dad, one Aussie uncle and one English.” James rolled his eyes. ”You sound like a dog breeder. We’re not a fucking pet zoo.” ”You’re the one petting my hair, hon.” James blushed and removed his hand from John’s curls. ”You’ve thought of more names than Roisin yet?” He was trying to change subject and everyone knew that. Billy scratched his head. ”Well, since Roisin is after Ned’s granny, we decided on Nour, after her biological mom and Haley after my dad.” ”Roisin Nour Haley Manderly-Low then. Roisin Nour Haley Manderly-Low, dinner’s on the table. Roisin Nour Haley Manderly-Low, do you take this…” Billy, Ned and James all sighed. ”You think you could let her grow out of the ballet slippers before you start looking for wedding dresses, babe? You’re already harrassing Elle and Charles about Thomas’ wardrobe.” ”But he’s so damn cute in bowtie…” ”He’s two.” ”Oh my God, they grow so fast…” John was teary-eyed again and Ned had a hard time not laughing. ”I promise, that if the bundle would want to start dancing, ye’ll get to pick out the clothes with her on one condition.” ”And that would be?” ”That ye don’t get upset if she quits and becomes a true metal head like her da.” Billy just shook his head. ”I bet she’ll ditch ballet, metal and football completely just because we want her to like it.” Roisin, who still slept in the babysling, made a little sound in her sleep, drooling on her da’s chest and Ned grinned. ”Look, she’s  already drooling over Behemoth. We’re gonna sacrifice so many virgins and goats to Lucifer, aren’t we, duckling? Yeah, yer da’s gonna teach ye all about Asa Bay, the number of the beast, Cliff Burton and how to cook priests…” John crossed his arms and looked at Billy and James. ”That’s it. From now on, I demand to to be erased from your list of people to be used as bad examples.” Billy exchanged an exasperated look with James and then looked at his apparently soon-to-be ballet dancing, goat killing and priest cooking daughter and the man who couldn’t take his one seeing eye off her. ”With a family as weird as ours, I think she’ll turn out just fine.”

[jameypants1-blog]

Reading Makes A Country Great MY PET GOAT Emergency 911 The Terror War begins Ignorance is Bliss stand Proud and United rally around the Flag cross your heart swear to Sacrifice thank the least among you for their military home invasion mass murder Service keeping Authority placated rock the Vote respect the Law and State's Finest army of police who serve and protect them, Respect the Honor and Authority of the blind justice arbitrated by ritual black robed Judges and the prejudiced juries of peers any skilled Liar can persuade to Verdict The educated are educated to Accept The Free are not Brave enough to Resist Swear to tell the Truth so help you God is an Obscenity and offensive to a populace bursting with the enlightenment of Science, the premise that Flesh is the Origin of Species and Intelligence a side effect of gas Love thy Leader Hate thy neighbor Kill and chain thy neighbor Earn your Keep Pay your Taxes Death is certain It is not the size of the horn but how it's used that betrays best gets praised for elite public service Performance How fortunate it is for leaders that men do not think, Hitler intimated, forthcoming as any candidate for Office who smiles kissing maggot babies and shaking fools hands telling each in line thanks for their support couldn't do this without them Hell hides behind details and simpering political correctness, kind words expressing best intentions the enemies of which are branded crazy and evil and dealt with. How fortunate men do not think. Lest leaders and the Hell they maintain be naked by Light of the Truth. You can handle the Truth. You can be brave and free. It's these so called elite who can't. Never ask what they can do for you or you for them. Don't give up your food stamps just yet they trade for drugs just don't Serve them, Loyalty to them is so universal I am ignored and insulted. In Contempt. That's the price of Love. Let's change that. Perception is reality is their constant refrain. It is not. Reality is this fraction of a single percent of the population is a basket of deplorables in perpetual conspiracy to violate and ruin every human being on Earth. It's shocking and horrific but people can handle the Truth. Here is Wisdom: Had a customer tonight guy in his sixties cropped back hair going gray one of those Freddy Mercury mustaches adopted by law enforcement to remind everyone they're tops cocksuckers not pigs bc pigs don't have mustaches. he was wearing a black tshirt and jeans, never seen him before, recognize most of the customers, we have the same regulars rotating through for the most part. He came in right after I did, like my second grill order after clocking in. Gave me the stinkeye, and instead of going to sit in the dining room until his order was called he stayed in the lobby, got behind the Pepsi ketchup fridge by register, from the nose up visible over the fridgetop. I was on second flip before I noticed him again, glaring at me still. Eye contact, rage in his eyes. Made his burgers to perfection, ignoring him but for sidelong peeks to see if he still there; he was still there looking pissed off. I strongly suspect him to have been involved with lie enforcement, that or ive got one of those faces brings out the hate in frustrated Dom bondage specialists. kept my face expressionless, sent the burgers out and he left not long after. Felt the loathing in the air leave with him. He hates me for my freedom, like to put me in cuffs and bugger me into some Respect for his Authority lavished from God unto Moses unto the Chosen People, the Elite, who gifted us all with the world's two biggest religions Islam and Christianity to refer to in the establishent of State, Islamic States still widely fundamentalist in extrapolations and ammendments to the fundamentals Law, even today stones striking pleading girls in the face until the glistening bone pulp shows, eyeball popped out shattered socket debt paid for her adultry of being raped by a man she wasn't married to, lacivious temptress women not tolerated, kept virtuous by Ordained killers sanctimonious witless butchers in judicious black robes black masks, love and peace delegates, spread the beautiful religion into Eastern Europe and jerusalm, effective Evangelical technique of the option to submit you are the slave of Allah, either submit or get your head looped off. Beautiful religion. The castles of Europe erected to fortify against the sacred Islamic state conquering all of Elite Europe, price of doing Business, business of giving people the business, keep them stoneage and in check until final act, today thousands of Muslim migrants fleeing Syria region where isis, the royal president, Russia and the United States are mass murdering the population in alternating sweeps all claiming success against the terrorists who are any one of the four mass destroyers depending on which regions fake news one watches, the cities in ruins, the people still left sparse and debilitated, the dregs, hundreds of thousands more turning sections of Germany France great Britain etc into ghettos, young girls being raped in public parks, a seven yo girl in France gang raped in Germany lone German teens stalked in the streets by packs of Muslim youth and beaten half to death teens boasting they will take multiple wives across region have dozens of children each and breed out the natives, conquer Europe with their cocks now that the dear leaders of the region had welcomed them in. Beautiful religion. on their knees five times a day to take a facefull of dirt groveling praises toward the black cube in Mecca which Abraham built and shat inside marking the turf, holy kabba, over ten feet tall and ten feet wide the wonder of the Islamic world which one day all of Islamic Europe shall pilgrimage to link arms and dance ring around the cubicle singing and shouting trampling each other then setting off across hard desert terrain, many every haj die along the route hail Allah that the prophet Mahomet, may he rest in stink took wandering the sand ocean from sand dune to sand valley to sand mount where pilgrims collapse into the sand and commune with Allah catching spiderwebs of shade from the spray of spindly limbed trees rising several feet high here and there, terrain as beautiful as Islam itself and straight to Judgement for those sun dried brain fried dead before completing the last leg of the blessed trudge to the sacrificial slaughter barns where depending on what slaves of Allah can afford to slice the throat of a variety of animals await blood ritual, goats camels sheep sand chickens and coming soon pigs once the half breed desert princes of Frankfurt introuce fat juicy pork weenies into the Islamic diet, blonde haired blue eyed pink bellied pigs recognized to be far too majestic to be interbred with Jews, fine swine imported from outside the East where the scruffy big snout kosher breed forages in feral packs, hear them oinking Hebrew and Yiddish gibberish rooting in alley trash like dogs, dirtiest animals in all of creation, howling and squealing together during crawl in place borg prayers tuned in to Abraham's outhouse ever amid ring around the square dancing, stumbling, trampled underfoot weaklings hoe down haj stop in the stadium built around the squat edifice that thousands may sit and cheer rendering inaudible the tinny prayers from around the globe every couple hours, dogs howling offended every prayer, kick the snarling curs at risk of losing toes and sandles get tangled up in black man dress and fall down surrounded by curly tailed rabbi and black dogs foaming at the mouth eyes rolling from echoes of lalalalalalalala eeeeeek eeeeeeek eeeeeeek barnyardesque broadcasts from loud speakers leading the haj hails between free time to marry and divorce multiple times a day and trade goats for girls to marry and divorce trade back for chickens or a dozen eggs if she's missing ears tip of her nose or digits from administering divine law rehabilitation mutilations, sometimes new divorcees only fetch a bucket of fertile shit, hobbled hunchback prolapsed asshole tounge sliced into fork for her hissing disobedience to swallow the donkey load of bountiful seed diligently fed her everyday in lieu of lunch meanwhile back at the last stop of holy haj long walk baby animals and ton tall spitting camels shriek and wail, hawk lunger loads of camel snot pink with slashed throat blood spew onto the walls, slick spots on the straw, bled out into tubs and running down beards drank in hot clotted toasts to Allah who the sacrificed animals were stacked like cordwood into earthen pits and burned to appease blessings to all and to all a good time at the hotel after parties where newly married couples meet, consumate, get divorced and the just single ladies reintroduced to next end of haj celebratent to be smitten and fallen in love until the boredom of domestic life after orgasm left him dissatisfied with this woman who used to be useful but went back to the singles mixer sore and cooperative awaiting true love perhaps next bus in full of blood spattered fresh inducties into the walkabout God's country for days purification event everyone owed it themselves to do at least once a lifetime to truly get the most out of Islam the impending new religion of the well served everywhere from Africa to Piccadilly square, to be renamed Mahomet Kaba King Boulevard erected in the center of the square a scale replica of the Kaba with Mahomet himself weilding scrimtar of faith from head to toe dressed in black mounted upon his goat horse chimera Pegasus thingy reared up like a reindeer representing the flight taken to heaven to lead the prayer circle in heaven where all had deferred to him to lead the prayer circle of Prophets in Allah's den, Jesus fresh as the Daisy he'd been since the day he'd cleverly avoided crucifixion by Jerry curling his big black bushy beard and sneaking out of town on his gf's ass while another fellow, whose beard was styled similarly to his and who had assembled a small crowd outside town to demonstrate a new stain removal product for even the toughest stains like days caked Hersey splats from loincloths see comes right out and with the herbal infused formula eliminates some of the stench of urine baked in since pissing it in a wine induced stupor earlier that afternoon as jews were known to do between assuming their posts begging for pennies outside the bank, that guy had looked and sounded like the upstart they were looking for and after his miracle product failed to impress the honorable pontus Pilate with any supernatural stain removal properties except when applied to soiled underpants, a demonstration he didn't need to see twice since his underpants indeed came out clean the first attempt, hardly a miracle but in a good mood since his ass felt and smelled so fresh after the man who kept persisting I am not the Jew you were looking for I'm just an alchemist with a revolutionary new product for removing stains the secret formula is just leavening soda and grapeseed pumice mixed with water and lavender leaves ofc it's not a miracle I am not the king of the universe I've never even met the guy no one does but he doesn't travel alone with a bucket of my new secret formula removing shit stains from underwear, he's a stand up magician or something, heard there's strippers too, Im just a humble asshole freshener your honor and feeling magnanimous floral fragrance of his anus clinging to the finger he scratched along his craft to sniff while contemplating opens the honorable Pilate said let's let these Jews outside demanding their picked pockets wallets and jewelery back stolen by the whores and at least a dozen confidence men known to be traveling with this wanted man who said fuck the centurions fuck the flag fuck hannaka fuck Elysian fields fuck the Senate fuck caesaer fuck Rome fuck caiphus fuck the Torah fuck yo mama and fuck all of you cringing sex slave submissives bending over and getting fucked everyday to earn wheat penny Caesars that aren't worth a tin shit except for your belief in Caesar says, Caesar says hail Caesar I say fuck Caesar render unto casear these piles of Caesars ugly cunt lips embossed nickles and dimes and shove em up Caesars ass let him go pawn these pieces of shit off on some other idiots bc we're Jews brothers and sisters and Jews don't need no stinking sick economy sicker fools who'd diminish themselves by going along with this madness, Caesar is a paper god you drunks this money charade is just a game and your the losers for playing so fuck him fuck Rome and fuck all these fake ass God's and curly tailed shit eating elites got us all playing along counting stacks of worthless legal tender whoopty Doo what caesar says and fuck his court of whimsy and don't bend over only ever acquire what he gives you and dont obey every stupid lie he tells you is the law, tell him to take this Nation of lies and the shiney lie sanctioned house chips he rode in on and shove it up his ass bc if you don't you'll all be spending your lives sucking Satan's cock doing as Satan says and get paid in Satan tokens worth your life loyalty and labors and in return a flag to admire and fight for a song of the murder glory of this shithole to cross your hearts and sing that all who hear it know how unified and proud you are and you'll be paid to with every Betrayal his crown can afford to give you now that you've given him lives to spend. Have a free flag coffin shroud a medal of Honor for service unto Casear human sacrife pin and a bedpan full of shiney Benjamin's to spend at super Caesars super savers everywhere Rome is maurading, hail Caesar full of grace give you nothing give him everything and that sumbitch drugged the watered down wine him and his whores and degenerates robbed us and fuck yes that's him I recognize the beard kill him set Barbarossa free and so despite insisting he was not their King nor a crook the wrong man was crucified that day and Jesus told this straight to Mahomet so you know it's true bc Mahomet word is gold then Jesus said I am the slave of Allah and Mo he's instructed me to let his biggest ho Mo lead the ass in the air prayers from now on bc I'm always broke have never tipped a red Satan cent to tithe and insist that Allah sound a dry heave so does every single thing you said Mo so you're deffo the man to lead prayer to that bullshitters bullshit, guess it keep you busy long enough not to butcher or mutilate anyone for five minutes at least. Raise your Voice be offended by this beastial religion we're diminished under by these sneering aristocrats who practice it, they're the crew can't handle the Truth. Lies are all they got. Be eloquent. Knowing and not choosing a side is just a mess. I bring you. Pallid incompotence hanging from a mic stand. Prime example of why there's no having it both ways. Fuck it 🌊 https://g.co/kgs/ACnHqS