#replies: wolf and hunter

[secrettyrant]

closed starter, cross trailer wolf and hunter @manybcdthings

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There's a rev of engines as Wolf's dented, banged up truck reaches the stretch of lawn at the same time as Hunter's. He etches his forward a little, also at the same time as his brother. Usually, there'd be a flurry of horns and laughter over who got the first space but not now. The older Cross has slept most nights between Xo, Rhea and Halo's trailers to avoid the inevitable run in with Hunter. Not for any other reason than he hates locking horns with any of his brothers and it seems to be happening more often with Hunter. He worries, if there's a spiral waiting to pull Hunter down but he's also angry. Sad. Hurt. Instead of a playful fight over the space, Wolf just leaves his truck strewn half on grass and gravel as he exits and plods towards their trailer. "You get it." he waves his hand for Hunter to take the space.

[secrettyrant]

"I know that you don't want to risk Jude losing the connection if something happened to Kat, and I understand, but I think there's room for a compromise." Wolf speaks with a level tone but he can't shake the undeniable sensation that washes over him. As if he's sat opposite Jeffrey, from the mannerisms to the very same words. It's sometimes the hardest thing Wolf faces whenever he tries to reason with Hunter, the stark reminder that Jeffrey's claws are still embedded deeply within his brother's flesh. As Hunter sings their old Alpha's praises, Wolf lowers his gaze. "I don't disagree, but there's a way to be both fair and strong. We'd be stronger if we were fairer." he speaks in a sullen tone, not expecting Hunter to listen or register what he's saying. Wolf only lifts his head to watch as his brother leaves the table, about to tell Hunter to sit down again before the words are spilled that can't be taken back. Wolf already struggles with his choices with the pack, wondering if he makes the right ones, the supply run happening behind his back made him question if he's respected. Wounds that are susceptible to the infectious words that Hunter says. "I don't want people to be scared of me, Hunter." he confesses firmly, shaking his head. "They received the same warning that anything like this again and they'll have to leave. You received the same warning. I believe in second chances, Hunter. I'm not Jeffrey and I can see that you struggle with that but I'm never going to be him." Wolf states, moving to his feet next to make his walk to the cabin door. But his eyes fix on his brother, a sadness in his tone and yet an unmovable glare from his eyes. "You know what to do if you can't accept it."

Hunter retreated into a silence, watching his older brother for a moment as he attempted to register the conflict happening within. All his mind could conjure was how a problem like this wouldn't have ever happened under Jeffrey's leadership and how he was slowly resenting the conversation even taking place. "I don't think it matters much what I gotta say." he shrugged but spoke from a genuine place. "But just know when she comes to you cryin' because even that won't feel like enough, I'ma be sayin' I told you so." he added, and predicted that Wolf's reaction wouldn't be positive. Not when essentially he had just questioned his brother's capabilities. "We got through everythin' so far because of the way he raised us, I don't know why I'm the only fucker who can see that. And now, you're tryin' to undo all that shit and all it's gonna do is make people think their emotions fucking matter. Like this whole fucking Kat and Lia and Rory shit. You know what woulda dealt with them? Being shunned for several months 'til they can fuckin' wake up and know their place." he said harshly, each word like an angry bite before he shook his head. "I don't wanna be Alpha, Wolf. I ain't comin' for that title, couldn't give a rats ass about it. I just think you're fuckin' up and in a few years time, that'll be when we pay the price. If this town gets discovered, what the fuck we gonna do? Hold hands around the tanks and ask 'em to stop?" he scoffed, moving to his feet to be done with the conversation but then he still couldn't stop. "You know why Kat ain't ever pulled this shit with Jeffrey before? Because she knew she'd lose her head. The fact she's thought now was the right time to do it, is because she knew you wouldn't give her consequences. I know damn well I'm talking sense, Wolf. Women with kids sit out the hard work, everyone else fuckin' fights. If that pisses her off so much, she woulda shut her legs. Same for Lia. And as for Rory? What the fuck, Wolf. She can't even walk too fast without fallin' over. What the fuck are we doing? We're the reject wolves now?"

[pinkrose05]

Soooooo very normal about this skit btw

[crimeronan]

On the Gus sneaks into the castle a bunch to check in on Willow point, several possible implied things that may happen as a result

First option, Amity blunders into him whilst invisible, and recognizes him... and depending on when this happens (ie has she reconciled things with Willow yet, and is she aware he's been sneaking in) for the former, she's paranoid that clearly Willow hates her and has gotten her best friend and the best illusionist-wild witch around in to get rid of her (paranoia brain from her murdery roommates, also thinking she deserves it ) If it's a little later on (Hunter's looking for Gus, but he does not know he's Willow's bestie yet but Willow and Amity have patched things up) Amity recognises Willow's old friend and puts things together quickly... cooperation for anti grimwalker terrorism in the name of fun. What could be a lot more fun... Gus accidentally bumping into Luz. And having a little celebrity moment... not because she's the Empress, but because she's human and also doesn't suck and did all the cool stuff she did and Luz doesn't know how to handle it all. Does not know how to handle genuine unprompted praise from a stranger that isn't for just being the Empress, but for the things she's actually doing to fix things. She isn't doing it for anyone's praise and actually getting it unexpectedly is... jarring to say the least.

AW. both of these amity options are fun but the luz one is Getting Me. i do love the idea of gus having been fascinated by luz for a long time simply on account of her being The Human Princess. and then when she becomes empress, he's like actually she might just be based. like as a person. Cool Beans

gus earnestly tells her how much her outlook on magic means to him and to any other anti-coven people he knows (he probably has a network. he feels to me like a guy who can network shenanigans Especially once he's older). and then luz looks so taken aback and uncertain that gus is like "uh oh! too earnest!!" and so he cracks a joke about how if luz wasn't empress, he'd have had to join adrian's coven

and a second after he says it, he's like "...whoops, probably should not be shit-talking the coven heads to the empress."

but luz LAUGHS.

and then is like oh NO. pretend i didn't laugh.

highlight of gus's year. i think he and luz could get up to Shenanigans.

[somestorythoughts]

An arrogant legend

I think Death would have left Puss alone if he'd stayed retired.

I mean maybe he wouldn't have, maybe he was just taking his time or busy, but Puss does literally bury the legend when he goes to Mama Luna's. He's not happy with his end just gloomily resigned to it, but he no longer laughs at Death and kinda stopped being the legend. Probably not in a way that's good for him, but he did stop.

Death is here to kill an "arrogant legend who think's he's immortal." And Puss buried that legend. And then he digs it up again. But even when he says he's Puss in Boots he doesn't commit to it, flat out tells Perrito that he isn't Puss in Boots yet.

Then when stealing the map he declares himself Puss in Boots, offering up gold in a way we know he's done before. Declaring that the legend his back. He revives the arrogant legend.

And that's when Death shows up again.

[secrettyrant]

Isla's voice carries above the sounds of life in the town street. As he hears her words, Wolf's head bows and his eyes close. Then, Elliot's voice is next. Their words tangle together and their anguish is a low foreshadowing toll of a bell. It rings over their heads in pained chimes until the sting from forming tears force open Wolf's eyes. His head lifts to see Elliot and Isla collapse to the ground and their fall mimics the drop they all experience. Years waiting and searching wind to a close and yet multiply at once. Wolf wants to rush there, to embrace his brother and the woman Elliot loves. He wants to shield them from the gathering crowd. From the pain.

Hunter moves to Elliot first but the plead and worry in his eyes cause Wolf to follow next. There's a gentle touch to their little brother's shoulder and then one to Isla's. Wolf doesn't hesitate to nod for Ryan, eager for the three older brothers to form around their youngest. It's the oldest form of protection in the book, to encase around the one who needs it most. Wolf in front of them, Hunter to Elliot's side and Ryan to Isla's. He leads them in a slow walk, knowing that the pain is a weight strapped to Elliot and Isla's feet. But, he doesn't want their pain to be a spectacle. He parts a link of onlookers with a wave of his arm, a firm but not unkind push to another wolf that doesn't move away fast enough. Walking like this is the closest they can get to carrying Elliot and Isla to the cabin. It's the closest they can get to helping, to taking away their hurt.

;

The exhilaration cuts through Isla as she clings to him, palms glued to his back as her arms wrap around under his. She squeezes him. Tighter and tighter. Her whole body trying to adjust that he's here, the weight she feels in her arms is him. She has to look at him, see him. It's real, he's here. After so many years of feeling an emptiness, an unrelenting fear that she would never feel this again, she's scared to even blink. When he says he's sorry, Isla's head is shaking and her hands are back to holding his face, pressing her forehead to his. "No, no, don't, I-" because it's her that has to be sorry but she can barely speak, the words are just blubbering from her. "I missed you so much." Isla holds his face, studying his features that she has been so scared of never being able to see again. And all she can do is cry because right beside the incomprehensible joy is something unspeakable.

"Amaris- I...." it takes all of her strength to try and form the words, but each one chokes her and her head is still shaking. "She let them take her so me and Cece could get away, and I...I've been looking everywhere but-" her breaths inward are sharp and shaking. "Cece, she...in April, they took her- right from me, I was...the wolfsbane, I couldn't even fight. She hasn't been with me, Elliot." it's the first time she's been able to say it to someone who she knows will feel the same pain as she does. It's the first time she can cry about their daughter knowing that her tears are understood. The past six months she's only been able to say it while reaching other towns and staring into faces of pity looking back at her. "I'm so sorry, please...don't hate me- I couldn't fight back, I-failed her, I'm so sorry."

[fozmeadows]

The Parable of the Wolf

On a fine spring day, an errant young Wolf wandered away from his pack and, in a sunny forest glade, encountered a Hunter.

"Please don't kill me!" said the Wolf, as the Hunter raised his gun. "I'm not here to hurt you!"

"I don't believe you," replied the Hunter. "Everyone knows that wolves are vile, dangerous creatures. You have claws that rip and tear - how can I possibly trust you?"

"If I pull out my claws," said the Wolf, "will you let me go?"

"Of course," said the Hunter. "Why would I lie to you?"

One by one, the Wolf pulled out his claws. The Hunter watched with a lazy smirk, and when the Wolf was done, he lowered his gun.

"I believe you now," said the Hunter. "You're free to go."

"Thank you!" said the Wolf, who tottered home on bloody paws and told his pack of the Hunter's benevolence. "It's only clawed wolves that the hunters don't like," he said. "So long as we remove them, we'll never be shot." And though some wolves disagreed with this, the most fearful of them listened, and soon a third of the pack was clawless.

A month went by, and in due course, the young Wolf found himself once more alone in the forest. A twig cracked behind him, and when he turned, there was the Hunter, his shiny gun at the ready.

"Wait!" said the Wolf. "I've got no claws, remember? I'm not dangerous!."

"I'd like to believe you," the Hunter said, "but last week, I heard that a little girl was mauled by something with big, sharp teeth, and your teeth look pretty sharp to me."

"If I pull out my teeth," said the Wolf, "will you let me go?"

"Of course," said the Hunter. "Why would I lie to you?"

One by one, the Wolf pulled out his teeth. The Hunter watched with silent intent, and when the Wolf was finished, he let his gun droop low.

"I can see you're a well-behaved pup," said the Hunter. "Go, be on your way."

"Thank you!" said the Wolf, and lolloped home, his jaws dripping blood, to tell the pack of the Hunter's caution. "Something with fangs has committed a terrible crime," he said. "So long as we don't look like them, we'll never be mistaken for monsters." And though the eldest wolves exchanged worried looks, the younger ones listened, and soon a third of the pack was toothless, too.

Another month went by, until one day, drinking at his favourite part of the river, the Wolf realised he wasn't alone, and raised his head to see the Hunter walking towards him, his gun once more at the ready.

"This stream is in my territory," the Wolf said, panicked and puzzled. "What are you doing here? I have neither claws nor teeth, and pose no possible threat to you."

"You don't, it's true," said the Hunter, "but many among your pack have both teeth and claws. How am I to trust your good intentions when you associate with such creatures?"

"If I chased away the toothed and clawed members of my pack," said the Wolf, "will you no longer be afraid of me?"

"Of course," said the Hunter. "Why would I lie to you?"

"I'll do it, then," said the Wolf, and when the Hunter gave the nod, he hurried back to his pack, assembled all the obedient wolves, and told them what had to be done. Though some were troubled by the Hunter's presence in their territory, they all agreed it made no sense to have sacrificed their claws and teeth while still associating with those who hadn't - after all, their stance was a principled one, and what good was principle if it wasn't firmly applied? With that, they banded together to chase the other wolves away, and when they were finished, more than a third of the pack was gone.

His task achieved, the Wolf returned to the river, where the Hunter was patiently waiting, and told him the good news.

"It's done!" he said. "The only wolves left are those without claws, or those without teeth, or those without both, like me."

"I'm glad to hear it," said the Hunter. "I hope the others didn't give you too much trouble?"

"Some of them snapped at us, it's true," said the Wolf, "and others swiped at us with their claws. It was frightening; I understand now why you were afraid."

"That's good," said the Hunter, and tipped his hat as he strolled back the way he'd come.

That night, as the remaining wolves lay sleeping, the Hunter and his fellows snuck up on the den and started shooting. The Wolf awoke in terror and confusion to the sound of gunshots and the howls of his dying friends. Desperately, he tried to fight back, but his toothless jaws found no grip on the limbs of the hunters, and his clawless paws left not a dent in their sturdy coats. All too soon, he was knocked to the ground, and as he lay there, panting in fear, the Hunter came and stood over him.

"Why are you doing this?" cried the Wolf. "I did everything you asked!"

The Hunter shrugged. "At the end of the day, a wolf's a wolf. We never could've trusted you."

Horrified, the Wolf asked, "Then why did you have us pull out our claws and remove our teeth and chase away our friends?"

"Because you were strong together," came the reply. "Like this, you're weak."

"But you said you weren't afraid of us!" begged the Wolf.

The Hunter smiled, and sighed, and raised his gun. "Oh, little pup," he said, "this was never about fear. Why would I lie to you?" And before the Wolf could answer, he pulled the trigger.

[lowkeyren]

—reject me not!

in which : when your sudden confession catches blade off guard, his response comes across as a rejection. though he realises his mistake, and tries his best to make things right. (...it gives the whole hq a headache)

slight humor, idiots in love, mutual pining, misunderstanding, you tease him w/o realizing (n he gets back at u hehe), reader is a stellaron hunter, stellaron hunters wingwomen!!!, art by @/kkuekkue on x. reblogs are appreciated! please enjoy <3

wc: 4.2k // hm secret santa? HOHOHO @mikashisus, rayray!! u might pull ur hair out at some parts idk :joy: happy reading n merry christmas my little elf xx

"i think i like you."

the words leave your mouth quicker than your brain can second-guess them. 

blade freezes mid-step, his back visibly stiffening. when he turns to face you, his sharp, cold eyes betray a fleeting glimmer of surprise, perhaps, or confusion —but it disappears as quickly as it came.

he stares at you, his eyes widening just slightly, the faintest crack in his carefully maintained composure.

but then, his lips part, and all he gives you is a single, flat response.

"i see."

two short, dismissive words. not a smile, not a frown —just two clipped words. you tilt your head, expecting some form of elaboration, but instead he just turns on his heel, his coat swishing behind him as he starts to walk away.

(what you don’t see is the way his hands curl into fists as he walks off, how his steps falter just around the corner, or the way he presses a hand against his chest to steady the sudden, overwhelming ache blooming there.)

…must this guy really be so blunt?!?!!

you sigh, a little laugh escaping despite your current situation. of all the possible responses you could’ve imagined, ‘i see’ definitely wasn’t one of them. you shake your head, a part of you wonders if elio is watching, silently laughing at your predicament right now.

it’s fine. really. you should’ve known better than to think he’d say anything different.

though the big problem now is, blade knows about your silly crush on him, so facing him in the future is going to be a total nightmare that you’re not ready to accept. you can already feel the embarrassment creeping up like it’s going to suffocate you.

“where's [name]?” 

blade steps into the base. silver wolf, tucked in the corner, engrossed in her console, raises a hand in greeting without looking up. blade nods in acknowledgment, before replying to kafka, "i went ahead of them," his voice sounds a little more strained than usual, before quickly turning to make a beeline for his room.

but kafka, ever perceptive, senses something’s off. she tilts her head with a smirk, "bladie, did something happen?"

he denies it with a quick shake of his head before slipping past her. having no other option, she resorts to… unconventional methods. 

with a flick of her wrist and a soft, almost melodic whisper, she purrs, "listen to me.”

the moment those familiar words hit his ears, a wave of calm washes over him, and against his will, he halts mid-step. "now tell me what happened, will you?"

he sighs and he rubs the back of his neck. “take your time, bladie.” after a long pause he speaks again, "[name] said they... they liked me."

kafka watches him closely, a grin slowly spreading across her face. "and then what happened, hmm?" she teases.

out of the corner of his eyes, he sees silver wolf perk up at his words, but he pays her no mind as his thoughts are too tangled in what he’s about to say next, the words barely scraping past his throat.

...

the next hour consists of him being ‘lectured’ by his fellow coworkers.

he tries to tune out the barrage of teasing, but something about  “bladie, that's not how you reciprocate,” to “ain’t no way bro fumbled that badly,” managed to stick with him, unfortunately. (he looks over to firefly standing to the side, but she only giggles and shakes her head at him.)

but really, how was he supposed to tell them that he panicked? that he was so stunned by your confession, so overwhelmed, that he could barely form a coherent sentence? that his awkward, dismissive reply wasn’t rejection, but a pathetic attempt to mask his own vulnerability?

the thought of you avoiding him, of thinking he doesn’t care, makes his chest ache with a pain he hadn't experienced for the past few centuries. 

blade makes a mental note to find you as soon as possible. he doesn’t know how to explain himself, not entirely; words have never been his strong suit, but somehow, some way, he’ll make it up to you.

later, you return to the base, your steps hesitant as you walk in. the moment you enter, the group falls silent, all eyes snapping to you. there’s an awkward stillness in the air, like they were caught in the middle of something. your gaze sweeps over the room, and it lands on blade. when you lock eyes with him, a flush creeps up your neck, and you quickly avert your gaze.

"excuse me!" you blurt out and almost sprint to your room.

...do they all know?! this has to be the most embarrassing day of your life.

you agreed to meet kafka at a bar near your current mission to discuss your next task. the magenta haired woman had mentioned it casually when you’d asked, cryptic as usual, only revealing that the task was important but leaving out certain key details —such as conveniently leaving out the part about blade being there too, of course.

(“bladie,” kafka’s voice took on a singsong lilt, her playful smile unmistakable as she glanced at him. “you’re going to use this chance to make it up to them, ‘kay?” 

blade only kept his eyes trained on the entrance, silently waiting for you to arrive.)

running late, your prior mission having dragged on longer than expected, you found yourself hurrying to the bar, weaving through the sparse but lingering foot traffic of the evening.

after what feels like hours, you finally make it to the bar. stepping in, your eyes scan the room for kafka, when suddenly, a man steps right into your path.

the man smiles warmly, though you could tell he’s had a few to drink tonight. his tone is friendly, with just a hint of flirtation as he strikes up a conversation, casually asking if you’d be interested in grabbing a drink sometime.

he’s polite, respectful even, and there’s nothing about him that feels overly forward or aggressive —just a man who’s trying his luck, that’s all. still, you can't help but feel a slight annoyance at the timing.

as you try to figure out a way to decline his invitation, you remain oblivious to blade’s gaze —specifically, how it's fixed on you, or rather, more pointedly on the back of the man’s neck.

“you’re going to snap his neck if you keep looking at him like that.” kafka’s voice cuts through the tension, her tone teasing as she watches the exchange from the side.

“i don’t like what he’s doing,” blade mutters, his voice low and filled with an edge that suggests far more than just mild annoyance.

kafka chuckles softly to herself, already knowing where this is headed. it’s not an outright confession of jealousy, of course —he would never admit to something as petty as that, and she knows better than to push him on this one. 

nevertheless, she still catches it, her lips curling into a knowing smile. even if blade would never call it jealousy, it’s enough to push him into doing something completely out of character —something he’ll never, ever do (until now).

kafka notices immediately. her eyes widen just a fraction before she sets down her wine glass with a graceful motion, amusement dancing in her eyes. and perhaps to make sure he doesn’t look too foolish, she decides to play along and help him act the part.

a sharp clang of glass hitting the table catches your attention. your brows knit in confusion; you glance over instinctively, your eyes meeting kafka's for a brief moment. her expression is unreadable, but the faint curve of her lips makes you wonder what’s really going on.

curiosity pulls your gaze lower, to the drunk figure slumped over at her table, seemingly drunk, his head resting heavily on his arm. the spilled drink pools on the floor beside him, glinting under the dim light. 

at first, you only catch a glimpse of dark, tousled hair, streaked faintly with deep crimson at the ends —so strikingly familiar it makes you pause. then, as your eyes trace over the sharp line of his jaw and the stiff set of his shoulders, realisation dawns on you. 

wait a second.

your jaw nearly drops as you piece it together. the man lying there, seemingly drunk out of his mind, is none other than the last person you would want to see right now.

blade.

your gaze darts between him and the polite man still standing awkwardly in front of you. blade, on the other hand, never lets his guard down, so this... state of his? unprecedented. 

apologetically, you offer a small smile to the man before rushing to blade’s side, urgency in every step as you push past the tables, heart hammering in your chest.

blade’s eyes subtly flicker over to you as you approach, and you can almost sense the slightest shift in his demeanor, the thought of you giving your time to someone else, especially someone so... ineffectual —grates at him.

he swallows the ugly feeling down his throat. perhaps he’s let this irked him more than it should. but it’s too late to back out now that you��re standing right beside him, the weight of your presence making the tension in his chest only more pronounced.

as if on cue, kafka’s voice breaks the silence, “as you can see, [name], our dear bladie here has gotten himself a bit... roughed up,” she says, casually catching the wine glass that had been teetering on the edge of the table.

her lips curl into a playful smile as she glances at blade, whose jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. “drinking doesn’t seem to suit him, wouldn’t you agree?” kafka continues, her tone light but unmistakably amused. her eyes flicker between the two of you, as if she’s thoroughly enjoying the situation unraveling before her far more than she should.

you blink, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected scene. your worry only deepens as you shift your attention back to blade, who remains uncharacteristically silent, his head now resting on his arm as though he really had overindulged. 

“blade,” you say softly, your voice carrying just the slightest edge of concern. “what happened?” 

before he can answer —or before he’s forced to lie —kafka chuckles, waving a hand as if to dismiss your worry. 

“oh, nothing serious. he just got a little too carried away with his drink.” she leans back in her chair, a sly glint in her eye that you’re too preoccupied to notice. your gaze falls back to blade, his hair slightly tousled.

without thinking, you reach out, gently brushing a strand strand from his forehead. his eyes flutter open at the contact —those striking, sharp eyes you’ve always found yourself drawn to, dark yet you can’t bring yourself to look away from. 

you notice the faint redness creeping across his cheeks and the line of his jaw, down to his neck. his skin hot to the touch under your fingers. “you’re warm,” you murmur softly, assuming the alcohol is to blame.

if only you knew the warmth searing through him has nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with you. 

“ah,” kafka hums, pulling you out of your thoughts. “it seems something urgent has come up that needs my attention.” there’s an unmistakable glint of mischief in her eyes. “i’ll leave you two to it.”

you glance at her, startled. “wait, what about—?”

“don’t worry about it,” she interjects, already getting up from her seat. “the bill is already on my tab.” 

well, that wasn’t what you were about to ask anyway! 

a sly smile curls her lips, and she tilts her head ever so slightly. “hmm, it’s rare to see him like this. [name], you’ll take good care of him, won’t you?” her tone is light, but the underlying implication is clear, leaving you flustered as she turns on her heel, striding off, leaving the two of you alone.

blade leans heavily against you, his tall frame making it an awkward challenge to keep him upright as you guide him out of the bar. one arm is slung over your shoulder, while his other hangs haphazardly against his side.

his head is tilted forward, strands of his dark, crimson-tipped hair brushing against your cheek, and you can feel the warmth radiating from him —whether from his predicament or his proximity, you’re not sure.

you shift your grip, looping an arm around his waist for better support, and his body tenses slightly under your touch. for someone playing the part of drunk so convincingly, he’s strangely aware of your every movement, his hand tightening just faintly on your shoulder when you stumble over a crack in the pavement.

“blade,” you murmur under your breath, trying to shift his weight more evenly as you inch forward. “you’re not making this very easy, you know.”

casting a glance his way, you’re met with a low, almost lazy hum in response. his expression is nothing short of a hazy indifference, though you swear you catch a flicker of clarity in his eyes —a brief, focused intensity that seems out of place, before he looks away.

you can feel the heat of his breath against your temple as he wavers with every step. the night air is cool, but the warmth radiating from his body is undeniable, pressing against your side in a way that sends an unexpected shiver down your spine. the closeness between you feels almost intimate in a way that will surely have you screaming into your pillow later that night. 

as you continue down the empty street, blade’s mind races; this is his chance. he knows it. he should say something now, anything, to make it clear —to tell you how he feels. (and how it’s been eating at him for longer than he cares to admit.)

this is it, the moment he’s been waiting for, but all he can do is breathe in the scent of your skin and the warmth of your touch. the sensation is all too familiar, like the pounding in his chest —but this time, it’s not from the heat of battle.

just how much longer he has to deal with this utterly insufferable feeling?

it’s worse now, because as you navigate through the halls of the base, he’s beginning to wonder if this is what it means to care for someone —to be vulnerable. 

“here,” you say softly as you stop in front of the door to his room.

he doesn’t want this moment to end. 

you glance at him then, finally meeting his eyes, and the look in them knocks the breath from your lungs. they’re hazy, yes, but there's a sharpness beneath the mask of drunkenness, a quiet intensity that makes your heart beat a little faster.

you clear your throat, breaking the silence. "do you need anything else?"

"no," he answers, almost reluctantly. "i’ll be alright."

a twinge of disappointment surges through you. right… it was foolish to expect anything different. he’s already rejected you, and you can’t help but feel a bit ridiculous for thinking it would be any other way.

you stand there for a moment, the silence between you growing thicker with each passing second, before you force yourself to nod, your voice soft as you try to mask the heaviness in your chest.

“goodnight then."

just as you turn to leave, you feel a sudden pull on your hand, your wrist tugged back with surprising gentleness.

"wait," blade suddenly says, and this time, there's no mistaking the sincerity in it. "thank you.”

his bandaged hand rests over yours, and a soft breath escapes you; flustered, you open your mouth to respond, ready to brush it off.

"oh! It's no pro—"

but you’re cut off before you can finish. he raises your hand, pressing his lips to the back of your palm in a soft, lingering kiss.

"—blem..."

your voice falters slightly as a rush of warmth spreads through you. every nerve in your body seems to spark awake all at once, making you hyper-aware of the spot from where his lips brushed against your skin. you freeze, your breath caught in your throat, unable to do anything but stand there, your hand still resting in his.

then, as if nothing happened, he steps back into his room and shuts the door behind him, leaving you standing there, still processing the unexpected moment.

safe to say you got little to no sleep that night. you roll over, staring at the ceiling, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. it feels ridiculous, embarrassing even, how many times you've replayed that scene in your head every time you close your eyes.

you couldn’t help but smile to yourself like a fool. 

(“so bladie, how’d it go?” / “...”) 

you hadn’t even planned on leaving the base today, let alone stepping foot into the brightly lit chaos of an arcade, but silver wolf had insisted —no, nagged, until you caved. and somehow she’d managed to drag blade (of all people) along, her smug grin all too telling as she pushed the two of you together and skipped off to “go play some gachas”

now, you stand awkwardly by blade’s side, the flashing lights casting a colorful glow over his impassive face. it’s hard to ignore how out of place he looks, his dark coat, sunglasses, and the mask covering his lower face a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere. 

yet, somehow, he doesn’t seem to mind the sharp sounds of arcade machines beeping nor the kids screaming in excitement. he just stands there, hands in his pockets, watching you fumble with a stack of game tokens.

“you look thrilled,” you mutter, a sarcastic tone in your voice as you glance at him.  it’s strange, though —there’s something oddly endearing about the way he’s standing there, the dark lenses of his sunglasses reflecting a faint outline of your own face. you catch yourself staring for just a moment too long, wishing you could see beyond the lens, wishing you could read his eyes—

you shake the thought off, it’s all just wishful thinking.

behind the shield of his sunglasses, blade’s eyes tracked your every subtle movement, almost unconsciously. he caught the way your expression softened as you turned toward the claw machine, how your lips curved ever so slightly when your gaze settled on that… thing.

it was maddening, how effortlessly you held his focus, how even a trivial moment like this could stir something deep in him. he told himself it was nothing, but the tightening in his chest said otherwise. 

he wasn’t one to indulge in sentiment, yet something about the way you stared at that silly plush made him restless, made him want to do something about it, if only to keep that smile on your face a little longer.

would your smile grow brighter if that plush were in your hands? 

“let’s go.”

“to where…?” you asked, glancing back at him, the curiosity evident in your voice.

he didn’t answer immediately, but you felt the familiar tug at your hand once again, gentle and insistent, as his gaze slips toward the claw machine where you had been staring earlier.

it’s not hard to imagine the scene as a sweet little moment, with him focused on the claw machine, trying to win you a plush like a doting partner would. 

with a soft click, the claw tightens around the plush, and before you can react, it’s being lifted out of the pile, swinging toward the prize chute. you can't help but stare as he pulls the soft toy from the machine with a sense of quiet satisfaction.

(you pocket the rest of the tokens. guess he won’t be needing those…  for a first-timer, he sure got lucky —must be beginners' luck, huh?)

you blink, slightly impressed. “wow, you’re good at this,” you remark, unable to hide the surprise in your voice. 

without a word, he hands the plushie to you. 

you tilt your head slightly, a bit unsure. “for me...?”

“it's yours. take it." he looks to the side; suddenly thankful for the mask —if it weren't for that, you'd surely see the crimson tint creeping up his cheeks right now.

you hesitate for a second longer before reaching out to take it, your fingers brushing against his, a tingle of heat pulses through you, leaving your hand feeling strangely warm.

“th-thank you," you manage to spit out, and your eyes dart away, suddenly very aware of how close he is. surely, this isn’t good for your heart!

the twilight sky stretches wide, the clouds are heavy, and you’re looking oh so earnestly at him. his heart beats a little faster, louder now, as if his body knows exactly what he wants but refuses to let him act on it.

but then, he blinks —once, twice; snapping himself back to reality. he can feel the space between you growing smaller, your presence growing closer.

his eyelids flutter shut instinctively.

and then, the soft press of your lips against his cheek.

a soft sigh escapes him, and his eyes crack open. if you could see his expression right now, you'd catch the vulnerability that flashes in his gaze. he swears he can feel the warmth of your kiss in his very bones.

though not quite the kiss he imagined… it was something. (re: you got his hopes up)

the shock of your own actions hits you like a wave. you swallow thickly, “sorry —i'll go find silver wolf.” avoiding his gaze as you fumble with the tokens in your hand. "i… i’ll pass the extra tokens to her."

without waiting for a response, you turn and hurry off, your pulse pounding in your ears, praying that the ground would swallow you whole.

that night, you lay in bed, the plushie clutched tightly in your arms. the softness of it contrasts sharply with the rush of confusion filling your chest. 

why was he being so kind to you? after everything, after the way he rejected you just a few days ago, it made no sense. his actions felt contradictory.

you try to push the memory of the kiss out of your mind; impulsive decisions… often lead to mortifying outcomes. though when you glanced at him afterward, you could’ve sworn his ears were tinged with red, just peeking out from beneath his hair. nevermind, it’s probably your mind playing tricks on you.

blade, who’s as cold as the frost-kissed dusk, walks beside you through the lively festival, his dark coat a striking contrast to the vibrant reds and greens around you.

the faint scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider fills the air, mingling with the sound of distant carolers. he doesn’t say much, but there’s something about the way his gloved hand brushes yours, intentionally or not —that makes the chill in the air feel less biting.

you swallow, focusing on the festive stalls ahead, the decorations glittering in the night. “you don't have to stick around, you know. i can manage by myself.”

his steps slow just slightly, and he turns his head toward you, finally speaking. “you think i’d just leave you here?”

the words catch you off guard, and you fumble for a response. “i-i just meant—”

“relax.” he interrupts, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips; his hand grazing yours again. this time, his fingers linger for a moment longer, almost as if testing the waters, before retreating back into the safety of his pocket.

your cheeks flush, and you pretend to be deeply interested in a nearby stall selling hand-knit scarves. just then, his voice cuts through the festive hum. “last week… when you said you liked me,” he starts, and your breath catches.

you whirl back to face him, your heart pounding. “don’t worry about it! really, i—”

“i wasn’t rejecting you,” he says, with an unexpected gentleness in his gaze. “i like you too, [name].”

blade removes his coat, the fabric warm against the cold air as he drapes it around your shoulders, pulling you closer. you stumble, your hand instinctively pressing against his chest to catch your balance.

you look up at him, your breath quickening, as his face draws closer, his eyes locked on yours with that familiar intensity. you let your eyelids flutter shut, lips trembling, heart pounding in your chest as the space between you narrows.

but instead of the kiss you were anticipating, you feel the gentle warmth of his lips brush against your forehead.

your eyes snap open in confusion, only to meet his smirking face. oh... this asshole!

“what?" he teases, his tone deceptively casual. “you seem pretty eager,” his voice drops an octave, hand gently tilting your chin as he leans in just close enough for you to feel his breath against your skin.

you glare up at him, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. the way your lips quiver, unable to hold his gaze for long; the fact that he actually adores that flustered expression on your face... well, that’s when he realises. he’s too far gone.

what a dumbass lmfaoo

MASTERLIST.

[jebunkle]

is this the real life?...

806 wc, gn!reader, all of them are having a mental breakdown

i saw some awesome sahsrau (self-aware hsr au) from @aventurineswife and they seemed a bit tired of making it...so i thought i'd give it a shot :p maybe ooc on some parts, sorry

the astral express who, while visiting a planet, begin to sense something amiss. it feels as if something, someone, has eyes on them occasionally.

while you're just logging in to play the game and pulling for new characters, everyone starts to freak out. what is watching over them? it can't be the aeons, something much more divine. hell, maybe even the aeons sense something is different.

himeko brews coffee while chatting quietly with welt, "you've felt it too, yes?" she asked him nervously, as if someone would hear if they were too loud. she sips her drink while glancing around every moment or so, displaying her franticness.

the express notices her off putting attitude, but before they can dwell on it, they begin to feel the same as her. it's almost like an illness, if this plague's symptoms were paranoia and impending doom.

the stellaron hunters are hardly different. kafka's smooth demeanor falters as she gazes off into the deep null of space. "who are you, divine being?" she asks into the nothingness, her sultry voice filling the otherwise empty air. as blade is sat on a couch, arms crossed over his chest, his posture seemed to be more tense than usual. of course, he was always uptight, but his behavior was extra rigid as of lately. silver wolf on the other hand, can't help but chuckle at kafka's philosophical rants and blade's silent pondering. she can tell that they're all puppets on a larger stage, meaning close to nothing in the vast universe — both her universe and yours.

aventurine, ever relaxed, has been carrying himself with a bit more of a troubled expression. his typical flamboyance has faltered and few around him have noticed. as aventurine sits on a red leather chair in an empty casino, he does not feel alone; tossing a golden coin between his fingers, aventurine begins thinking aloud. "i see you've chosen to reveal yourself, huh?" the blonde's voice is low and almost soft, as if he's trying not to offend whoever he may be speaking to.

dr. ratio's hair is a slightly unkempt, his eyebrows are pinched together much more frequently, and his papers and studies are left askew on his desk. a few members of the intellegentsia guild slowly catch onto how he's acting, and it's truly unbecoming of the infamous strict professor. his employees can be seen wearing a concerned expression when glancing over at him, yet are too afraid to inquire on his troubled state. "i will uncover whoever is ensuing this chaos amongst us all." ratio promises himself.

the xianzhou luofu is eerily quiet. the arbiter general himself has gone silent as well, as if the ship has been submerged into an ocean of solitude. jing yuan sits in his chair with his fingers intertwined atop his lap. internally, he wonders about this rumored 'creator'; are they real? is it an aeon? what does this mean for him? his companions? is something terrible on the horizon? his endless inquiries are certainly unlike him, causing the master diviner fu xuan to worry about him.

she feels that the world has been tilted also, however she's more concerned about jing yuan's scrambled state. "please, go home and rest, general." she pleads annoyedly, "mm. give me a moment, diviner fu." jing yuan replies quietly, his words melancholic. "you know as much as i do that something has changed." he states to the shorter woman.

boothill's shoes tap eagerly against the pavement that lined the roof of the building, echoing an ambience of anticipation. "what in the world are you?" the man questions the air rhetorically. he cannot, for the life of him, figure out what's causing such a stir in the mood of everyone, himself included. the silver cowboy's hand is rested on his hip, the other lifted to his neck with a finger pressed to his chin. "i dunno, but yer rackin' all our brains here.." boothill remarks, hoping that whoever is watching over him will hear it.

the enigmatic memokeeper is seen with a more defined smirk recently. black swan has taken interest is this unknown deity that has spiked fear and franticness all over the universe. she rests her palm against her chin, staring up into the stars that decorate the black outside of the express's windows. "i hope you'd be willing to speak with me, demiurge." she exclaims in a calm yet excited tone.

the head of the oak family stands in his obnoxiously large office, hands pressed against the polished table as he stares down at it. there's a few scattered documents thrown astray, but they're not important right now. all sunday can think of is you. he knows you exist, he's sure of it, and he won't rest until the day comes that you visit him and grace the world with your presence.

im so happy the eagles won the super bowl and kendricks performance was goated

dividers by @/hyuneskkami

[secrettyrant]

Wolf's face scrunches as the slap sounds across Elliot's face, but he's laughing and unable to control it because of Hunter and Ryan's involvement. "Come on, we got plenty of room for another kiddo!" he waves a hand to try and encourage Elliot to take the woman's number, excited to be an Uncle for the millionth time. However, Wolf notices Elliot's reaction to be genuine but before he can say anything else he hears Hunter's bark and instantly joins in with a howl, slamming his fist rhythmically against the side of the trailer as he laughs and ruffs along with his brothers. Until Hunter is trying to approach her with intimidation and Wolf is quickly tutting. "I guess Hunt gets a kick out of being told no twice?" he goads, chuckling loudly and only stepping forward slightly to drop a hand onto Elliot's shoulder not realizing that it means there's now three men etching far too close into a woman's space.

"Oh of course, got no idea who she is." Connie seethed, trying to yell above the rowdy noise but also not caring about the show when it came to her sister. "Well, you knew her well enough a few weeks ago Elliot!" she waved her hands, frantically. "You dropped her off, gave her your name and then sped off." she explained in a rush and then glanced to...Hunter? as he spoke, fuming that he had the audacity to laugh about it. "Pig." she bit at him, but her focus was more on Elliot and she turned back and quickly grabbed the taller Cross by the ear with a pinch between her fingers to pull him down to her level. "You!" she began, using her other hand to grab her phone from her pocket. "You're gonna take her damn number, you're gonna text her. Apologize. And then, I want to see your stupid face at every appointment. Every scan. Everything. I want to see you so often that I end up hating you even more than I do right now. You hear me!?"

[ikeuverse]

detour plans | pjs

pairing: mafiaboss!jay x mobster's daughter fem!reader genres: angst, almost nothing fluff, smut wc: 9.2k+

꒰ 𝅄 warnings ꒱ : swearing, description of not-so-explicit fights. mention of crimes, robberies. mention of blood, weapons. rivalry between mafias, kidnapping, bohr is yn's last name. mention of themes such as prostitution (but i'll try not to describe so much about it, but if i do, i'll put it in the warnings). lmk if i missed anything.

꒰ 𝅄 synopsis ꒱ : jongseong wanted to avenge his father's death and his disrespect for the patriarch's bed, and the best plan he could think of was to take revenge and kidnap the daughter of his greatest rival. he just didn't realize that his plans would take a different path, one he had never thought of.

꒰ 𝅄 notes ꒱ : joining my baby's request @hoonprksung. i wanted to make the story into a single part, but i can't. my mind flies away and i always end up writing more than i should, so... welcome to the first part (i can't call it a synopsis, can i?). i hope you like it!

꒰ 𝅄 part 2 | masterlist ꒱

“So, did you do what I asked?” Jongseong’s voice echoed throughout the room, making the boys stop everything they were doing to pay attention to the man who had just arrived.

He commanded respect not only for his title as the boss of that mafia but also for the way he behaved in front of people. Jongseong was respected for his tone of voice, and for how he could deal with situations the same way his father did when he was alive. Maybe with a little less empathy since it was rare to see a small smile or even a second chance in the boy’s eyes.

“We did, boss” Heeseung replied in a sarcastic tone, raising one of his eyebrows as he wiped the only drop of sweat from his temple that was about to run down.

Jongseong let his rigid posture falter a little, rolling his eyes as he approached his best friend. Calling him boss was a way of bothering him even though he was Park's right-hand man in everything he did in that place, in the middle of that world he was introduced to without having the chance to choose whether he wanted to stay or not.

Heeseung welcomed him because that was how it was with him too. The Lee family was allied with the Park family, so growing up with Jongseong hadn't been a choice, but staying and making him practically a brother was the best choice he made in life even more so because Park decided to stay that he allowed Heeseung to be the only one there.

“Then I want you to report it, please” he said. “Or do you want me to bring Charlotte and Hunter here to threaten them into talking?” with the look of fear on his men's faces – even though Heeseung was the only one trying to hide it – Jongseong smiled.

The mention of the two Park mafia dogs was synonymous with respect and empowerment. Charlotte was a wolf-dog with a physical build that none of them had seen before. Defined muscles and very well-groomed caramel and white fur, while Hunter was a Doberman who, standing up, was almost as tall as Heeseung. Fast as a rocket and as brave as Jongseong. The owner's personality, anyone who knew him would answer.

“You can let your children rest, they worked hard today” Sunghoon sighed, a little more tired than usual. He sat in the chair in front of him and took a deep breath, running his hand through the sweaty strands as he pulled out the small notebook that was on the table in front of him.

Showing images from the security cameras for Chief Park to analyze every step of that day.

Jongseong approached with slow, careful steps until he leaned one of his hands next to Sunghoon, looking at the screen he had just opened.

The time indicated eleven in the morning, the estimated time he asked his men to move on that mission. A little too early for what they were all used to, but if it had been a little later, there might not have been enough time to do what he had in mind.

As the footage played, Jongseong managed to see the moment Heeseung entered that restaurant, wearing elegant clothes, but not as conspicuous as anyone could see. He sat down next to the table of that day's target, alternating his gaze between the seated figure and the cell phone in his hands.

The footage remained still for several seconds until the person stood up, and walked towards the bathroom. And it was at that moment that Jongseong's heart beat a little faster. He knew he knew that his best friend would not hesitate when he stood up and walked behind. Not long after, the footage was turned off without showing that he had reached his destination or done what had been proposed.

“Heeseung” Jongseong called. His eyes were still glazed over in the dark reflection of the computer screen, showing only him and Sunghoon at that moment. He saw the boy exchange a quick second of glances with him, before turning and facing the others present there “What happened after that?”

“Riki cut the camera feed so I wouldn’t get caught,” he leaned back on the table, taking a deep breath. “She was a pain, man.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe her dad trained her on how to react to a kidnapping,” it was Sunghoon’s turn to answer, closing the laptop screen and getting up from his chair. “Hee and I almost couldn’t get her to sleep and put her in the car.”

It was going to be difficult. Jongseong knew that when he decided he would have to kidnap the daughter of his biggest rival in the mafia world. He was aware of how much the plan, planned for two whole months, could go wrong if they didn’t do things meticulously.

“Were you followed?” he asked.

“No car, no sign” Sunghoon said once more. “We had Jake’s cover along with Keeho and we took a completely different route to get to the mansion. We weren’t followed.”

Great, he thought to himself. He was proud of how well he had trained his men, some even considering them his friends besides Heeseung, who was practically his brother. Even so, Jongseong was still a little apprehensive because things had changed at the last minute.

Kidnapping the daughter of a mafia boss would never be easy, especially for someone who had reasons to hate the Park family. He knew that revenge was not easy, but Jongseong did not want to let what his father had tried to do all his life go unpunished.

The patriarch wanted to kill Stephen Bohr, from the Bohr mafia family. He was the worst in that circle, denouncing his rivals, making them fall one by one as if they were not part of that scheme. If things didn't work out the way he wanted, boom. It was the end for that family that had gone head to head with him.

Jongseong felt his blood boil just remembering Bohr's disrespect and disloyalty. How he became his father's rival, just because he didn't want to be part of the worst schemes involving shady things. He felt like vomiting just remembering vague mentions of prostitution involving minors and even kidnappings of girls who were going to school and were never seen again.

That was the fetish of the most disgusting and grotesque man Jongseong had the displeasure of knowing. That's why he so easily became a rival of the Park family and many others, but because of his influence, no one dared to do anything, for fear of the empire falling and being denounced.

But Park didn't. He wanted to see Bohr crumble. He wanted that disgusting, disgusting and rude man to be hit in the worst possible way, for everything he had done that went beyond what Jongseong's family believed and followed.

It wasn't normal to be part of the mafia, it wasn't a clean job, but many things could be spared and he knew that Stephen didn't care about any of that. He just needed something that could hit him as hard as it had hit him when he heard that news, when he realized how much Bohr wanted to bring down his father for not accepting to invest millions in that disgusting scheme, almost costing his life twice.

“Where did you put her?” he asked after a very contemplative moment, analyzing everything that had happened until he reached the present moment.

“In the dark room, she was the only one available” Heeseung answered “She wasn't awake the last time we went to check on her.”

“Okay, I'll go see her.”

“Are you sure?” Sunghoon asked, looking deeply at Jongseong. Going to see her could be the moment you could wake up and finally recognize him. Bohr must have said about the Park family, for sure. Or omitted much of the scheme since her father saw her as an untouched princess. The immaculate one of the family that no one had the right to get close to.

That's why Jongseong planned to kidnap you in the first place because regardless of your father's dirty and disgusting thoughts, he treated you as if you were the only woman to be respected in the universe. Maybe Bohr's Achilles heel, so it was the hardest thing he had tried to do since he took over the leadership of the Park mafia after his father passed away.

There was no way he could get close to you given all the security and how your father kept you, but no one was prepared to accompany you to a simple lunch on a random Wednesday, at a fancy restaurant that you usually went to alone because no one knew that place.

Only Jongseong, after observing you for months, sees your routine like a disgusting stalker would. But he just wanted to be sure what your routine was and at what times you would be less protected so he could act, put the plan into action, and make your father suffer just like he had done to so many other people.

"What if she recognizes you?" Heeseung asked.

“I’ll introduce myself properly and tell you why I did this” he replied, stepping away from the table and walking towards the door of that room. But before leaving, he turned to the two boys who were still there. “And in the worst-case scenario, if she doesn’t behave, Hunter and Charlotte will have a feast for dinner tonight.”

He gave a small smile before leaving, leaving a chill running down Heeseung and Sunghoon’s spine. Not because the threat was empty and untouchable, but because the two of them knew what Park Jongseong was capable of doing.

The only light in that room was the dim bulb of the small rusty chandelier, casting a shadow on any silhouette that stood against it.

Your head was throbbing, as if you had been run over five times, back and forth. Your entire body was hurting, and what was more, you felt afraid. Like never before in your life.

Living in the environment your father chose to live in had consequences, and one of them was that you were always alert, far from danger, and consequently, afraid. Because the next day was uncertain, or even if it would come. There was no way to predict it. One day you would be sleeping in your warm, cozy bed, and the next you wouldn't even know if you would be there to tell the story. Especially since you were the daughter of a mafia boss.

Your years of life were made up of staying away from danger, learning to defend yourself, and trying to identify any hint of wrongdoing around you. Knowing who approached you willingly or out of interest, when you could leave the house, and who you would be with. Everything around you was controlled by your father and the men who worked for him. But unfortunately that morning it hadn't been that way.

You just wanted to have lunch at the best restaurant in the area, after all, it was fancy without attracting too much attention and you knew you could go there without any security because no one knew you were a regular there.

Well… That's what you thought until the last time.

Your father had many enemies in this circle, many people who would give anything to get their hands on him… But you? At least you were seen as often as he was. You hadn't even been mentioned in any meeting, only people close enough to him knew about the existence of Stephen Bohr's only daughter.

But a lot of things weren't adding up there, because someone knew about your existence. Someone knew who your father was and, even worse, the restaurant you frequented and when you frequented it. So they were keeping an eye on you, but for how long? And why?

The creaking of the door in the background made you wake up, open your eyes, and curl up a little more wherever you were. What you had learned was that, in that situation, you should stay still and try to identify a voice, if someone was alone or if they were going to talk while you pretended to still be asleep. But you had been through so much in the last few hours that everything you had learned had gone down the drain.

Your back quickly found the wall to support yourself, you looked around noticing that you were sitting on an old and worn mattress, so thin that you could almost feel the floor. Your eyes quickly scanned the room until stopping at the tall silhouette that had entered at that moment.

“How wonderful, you're awake!" an imposing, deep, and serious voice was being directed at you. A wave of shivers ran through your body as the man slowly approached. You didn't know if you were still afraid or anxious to see who was there.

The short walk to where you were wasn't long, but he had made sure to take as long as possible until the dim light in the room reached your entire body and face, thus revealing who was behind it.

“I'm glad to meet you in person, Miss Bohr” he smiled at you.

A smile that made your entire body freeze. It was cold, calculating, and devoid of any good feeling. You shrank a little more, noticing the restriction of your feet that, when your eyes ran over the area, you noticed they were tied.

"What do you want?” your throat burned as you asked, you had certainly not used your voice for so long. The last time you remember speaking or asserting your voice was when you felt large, strong hands grabbing you in the restaurant. You screamed, even with something covering your mouth as you were taken out of the establishment through the back door.

The man laughed darkly, even more than his previous smile. Walking a little further, he lowered himself to your body height, almost sitting on the floor with you.

“I want to make your father’s life hell” he widened his smile a little more after the startled reaction you had. It seemed that any negative response to what he said or did fed that bad ego a little more.

“I—” you stuttered, trying to find words that could help you in some way. How could you save yourself from that?

“You’re his only weak point, let’s face it” The man forced one of his knees to the floor, while the other leg was bent to balance his body a little more in that position “And since your father got involved in a dirty scheme and disrespected my father’s deathbed, I need to make him pay.”

“By kidnapping me?” Your voice came out shaky, your throat burning again as a ball of saliva formed in your mouth with the urge to cry when your eyes began to burn. “What do I have to do with what my father did?”

“I hope nothing” He didn’t take his eyes off you, even though he wasn’t making any movement. It seemed like that man wanted to study every little part of you to have some advantage because you didn’t know how long you could be stuck there. “But this is the only way to make him pay for what he did.”

“And what did he do?”

You noticed how his jaw – well-defined and sharp – twitched at your question. So you had no idea of ​​the rottenness your father had gotten himself into beyond what he was showing you.

Jongseong wondered how much Stephen had told you if he knew anything at all. Meanwhile, your bright eyes almost made him falter. Because he only had you as the weak point of the man he wanted to take down, this was the only way to make him pay for everything wrong.

“If he didn’t tell you, do you think I should do it? Under these conditions?” he asked. For the first time, he looked away from your face to focus on any corner of the dimly lit room.

At that moment, your vision became blurred because you didn’t know if you were crying out of fear or because your father was hiding much more than you knew. Leading to them kidnapping you because of it. The man didn’t even notice that you let a few tears escape, or if he did, he didn’t comment out loud much less showed any regret for what he had done.

“I— Please tell me what my father did” you sobbed softly, begging for who knows what, you just wanted to know “I won’t tell him anything if I find out.”

“I know you won’t tell anything.” That gaze stared at you again, coldly and fixedly. Causing a shiver all over your body as he became serious for the first time, but the glow in his eyes was different from yours. “Otherwise I’ll have to silence you.”

“Killing me?” came out before you could even think to say it. He denied it vehemently, sighing slowly.

“Giving one part as a gift to your father and the other to Charlotte and Hunter.”

“And who are Charlotte and Hunter?” you asked, almost regretting it when you saw a glimpse of approach. An almost subtle movement on his part as he leaned in a little, a mischievous smile threatening to appear on those small, well-shaped lips.

Your eyes returned to his eyes when you saw him open his mouth to respond, but quickly shut up when fierce barking was heard a little further away, showing that those animals were approaching.

“They will be our greatest companions in the coming times,” he replied. “Treat them well or you will be dinner.”

What you thought would be just a few days locked up in that poorly lit place, that your father would soon find a way to call one of his men to get you out of there… Turned into weeks. Your only human interaction was with the person who came to bring you meals with a simple wave and your thanks in return.

That man with the devilish features and the darkest smile you had ever seen hadn't come to see you for many days. Not that you were counting on that, but you honestly thought you would be dog food after the first – and only – time you two had seen each other. If he wasn't there to scare you, then had he gone after your father?

And speaking of the older man, you hadn't even heard about him, listened to his voice. Nothing about your father was mentioned when anyone came in there. It seemed like the men weren't allowed to talk to you, or they had nothing to talk about since you didn't speak to any of them.

But what if your father had given up looking for you? Or he had no clue where you were? Because the guy who took you there seemed very smart and younger than anyone you'd ever seen in that environment. Not that you had contact with many people, but you don't remember someone like him working with things like that.

The sound of the door locks made you stop analyzing the whole situation, stop thinking about the reasons and circumstances, and focus on who was coming in. The precise steps towards you as the boy brings a tray with things that you would take a while to eat. He placed it on the rusty table a little further away from the mattress you were on, the thud against the iron making your body shrink a little.

As soon as he put the object down, he approached you slowly until you finally recognized him. It was the dark-haired man from the first time he was there. He looked even more serious, his face completely wrinkled as he ran one of his hands over his sharp jaw.

“Your father is an idiot,” he said suddenly, taking you by surprise with the slightly louder tone that echoed throughout the room. “He thinks he can corner my friends, the men who work for me, and still get away with it.”

“You—” your eyes suddenly burned, and your chest began to hurt at the thought that that man could have done something to your father. “Did you do something to him?”

“Not yet” his gaze made you more and more afraid, but this time you wanted to try to find some other feeling other than something bad. You wanted to understand the real reason why he hated your father so much.

He didn't wait for you to give any response after that, so he quickly approached the food tray to pick up the plate that had been prepared and the glass of juice. He bent down again right in front of you to hand you the meal.

Jongseong didn't even roll his eyes anymore when you refused to eat, remembering the many untouched meals he received back after his friends came to you to feed you.

“Eat” he practically ordered, gently pushing – or at least trying to – the plate onto the small mattress, trying not to knock anything over.

“No, I—” you cringed a little more “You did something to my father and now you're feeding me… This could be poisoned and—”

“I've been feeding you for weeks, Bohr” he finally rolled his eyes, snorting at your attitude at that moment “If I was going to poison you, I would have done it already.”

“But today is the second time you've come to see me since you kidnapped me.”

“Oh, so daddy’s little girl noticed my absence?” He seemed a little bolder and more convinced now. It was your turn to roll your eyes, even though fear was coursing through every drop of your blood.

“Please, just tell me what you did to my father,” you begged, not even caring if he would listen to you or not. Trying could be worth it while he was there.

“Only if you eat,” he replied. “I want to have the pleasure of killing you if the time comes, I don’t want you to starve to death before then.”

You prayed mentally that your stomach wouldn’t give you away at that moment, trying to appear as strong as possible in the face of that situation. It wasn’t like you had gone without food all that time, but eating as little food as possible from a completely unknown place was the best thing to do.

Your eyes were fixed on the man in front of you, he also held your gaze the whole time, as if he was waiting for something to say from you. Some movement, a request. And when it didn't come, Jongseong sighed loudly and reached out to grab the bread that was there. He cut a generous piece with his fingers, placing the largest half on the plate, while the other half, he chewed with a little anger without taking his eyes off you.

“See? No poison, Bohr girl” he was still chewing as he spoke, cleaning the corner of his mouth with the tip of his tongue before feeling a slight numbness in his legs from the position he was in. Then he decided to sit in front of you on the hard, cold floor “Now eat if you want to know things about your father.”

You had never seen anyone as crazy as Stephen Bohr, but that man in front of you made everything fall apart as you watched him. The way he carried himself, the way he talked about his father, and even when he talked to you in the few days he showed up there. Everything was strange.

It didn't seem like a deal made between the two of you, but if he had fulfilled his part by showing that he didn't want to poison you with the food he offered, you could give in a little and eat. Both because you were very hungry and also because you wanted to know about your father. Weeks without news and without knowing if he was that worried, so that man should say something.

Your eyes looked away for a few seconds to look at the half-eaten snack, taking that part and slowly bringing it to your lips. The first bite felt surreal inside your mouth and the mix of flavors was incredible.

“Did you like it?” he asked with a hint of compassion that bordered almost on pride when you took the second bite and almost moaned at how good it was. Your eyes lit up at that and when you took the third bite, you nodded positively to him “I made the sandwich, so thank you.”

You stopped chewing for a few seconds, and your eyes widened.

“Do you cook?” It was your turn to speak with your mouth full, apologizing softly and going back to eating.

“I don’t think you want to know about me right now, Miss Bohr” he smiled, for the first time, in a different way than the times you had seen him – even if it had been few.

He seemed to respect your time as he watched you eat your snack, carefully waiting for you to drink the juice and even the sweet biscuit he left.

How kind, it even seemed ironic to think that of someone who had kidnapped you.

After a long time of your first – and complete – meal, he put all the utensils away to return them to the table and sit down again in front of you. It seemed like the mattress was much smaller without any plate to separate you and him, although the boy wasn’t even on the mattress, per se.

Your eyes stared at him with a wordless request, he knew he should tell you even if that wasn't the goal.

Jongseong just wanted to scare Stephen, make him pay for everything, and after your father suffered whatever he deemed necessary, he could let you go.

“Your father gets involved in some very bad things” his look said it was nothing new, after all, he was the head of a mafia. Good things didn't come from there.

“Tell me something I don't know, Mr…”

“Park” he answered, preferring to refer to you only by your last name. It was fair since he knew yours.

“Mr. Park” you repeated, and Jongseong just nodded.

“Do you know the mafia's black market?” the question came out so strange on his tongue, such a bitter taste that, for the first time since you saw him, he seemed shaken. And even more so after you shook your head.

Was it his mission to tell you how it all worked? Was he the one who should ruin the image of everything he hated the most by saying things out loud?

Jongseong sighed loudly, one of his hands running through his hair and then letting it fall to his lap between his legs when, once again, his gaze fixed on you. His expression was severe, his dark eyes reflecting so little of the – almost non-existent – ​​light in that room.

“Sorry to make you hear that, then” was the last light thing he said after starting a conversation and introducing you to a world that you never imagined your father, the one who was supposed to protect you, was a regular consumer of.

At first, Jongseong thought it was a brilliant idea to kidnap Stephen Bohr's daughter and make him pay for all the robberies that happened to the Park family because they didn't want to join him in the mafia's black market.

But why, a week since he told you everything, couldn't your horrified and crying face leave his mind?

The way you vehemently denied every word that came out of Jongseong's mouth, how you held back a scream and cried copiously. Repeating countless times that no, your father wouldn't do that. Girls your age or even younger than you were suffering something you never imagined. Meanwhile, the Park family was robbed of millions because they didn't want to finance such horrible smuggling and trafficking.

Jongseong didn't forget how Stephen wanted to rob his family at all costs, even with his father on the verge of death. He wanted to make that man pay and when the idea of ​​kidnapping the only precious thing in Bohr's life – you – came up, he couldn't turn back. He couldn't deny that it had been something completely insane, considering that you were the same age as almost all the girls your father had lured. But Park wanted to do it to get the stolen money as ransom and then release you back.

He just didn't count on a slight regret starting to set in since he saw your teary eyes for the last time. It was obvious that you would cry, after all, no one would like to know that their father was involved in something as horrible as that. But the way you were crying, how much you held back from sliding down that mattress and asking for a hug when you just needed a friendly shoulder to unload that whole bombshell.

No. He couldn't have compassion for a suffering look and a person who was just a reason why an entire empire could fall.

Jongseong had even forgotten how pleasurable Stephen's agonizing voice on the phone had been, screaming and looking for his daughter. How he swore to go after Park and everyone who worked for him, kill them one by one, and get his daughter back.

But that wouldn't happen. He wouldn't let him. The purpose of all of that was to make that man waste away and return everything he had stolen, but what was stopping him was that discomfort in his chest that he felt every time he thought about you.

There was no reason for Jongseong to be like that, but why did he avoid going back to that room after he told you everything? Why did he send all his friends instead of going himself just to see how you were doing?

Besides, did he care about that? Since when did he want to know how you were? That wasn't part of the plan.

“What the hell?" he cursed softly, clenching his hands into fists and punching the table. This woke Charlotte who was lying on the leather sofa, looking at the boy and searching for something that was bothering him “Sorry, I woke you up, didn't I?”

She moved a little, adjusted her body on the sofa, and went back to lie down, but without sleeping. Looking at Jongseong as he heard him sigh loudly.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me, Charlie” he looked at the dog in front of him. “Am I worrying or is it just because I’ve never kidnapped a girl?”

The dog threatened to bark, as if to answer him, but knocks on the door quickly interrupted him, which he was grateful for.

“Come in” Jongseong said, motioning for Charlotte not to move. So well trained, waiting for any command if it was necessary to attack.

“Your coffee, you little shit” Heeseung came in with a thermos in his hand, and the other free hand waved towards Charlotte. “Hey girl, your brother is taking a shower downstairs.”

At the word shower, Charlotte grunted a bark and cringed.

“She hates baths just like her father, how is it possible?”

The argument could go on, Jongseong would curse Heeseung and this would go on for long minutes. But the boss knew why his best friend had come there, especially with a thermos of steaming coffee.

“You can start talking” he replied immediately, as soon as Heeseung placed the coffee on the table and sat down next to Charlotte.

He seemed to hesitate a little, a single moment when he looked away from his friend to any corner of the room.

“Stephen almost found us” Heeseung said.

Jongseong stopped drinking his coffee halfway, feeling the bitter and hot liquid tearing down his throat. The feeling could have been uncomfortable if it weren't for the way Heeseung looked at him next.

“What do you mean?”

“That he's bloodshot after his daughter and that he almost killed Sunghoon.”

“What?” he almost shouted, scaring Heeseung and even the bitch who was almost going back to sleep “What the hell are you saying, Heeseung?”

“That he almost found us,” he continued “Sunghoon went to the bar last night and saw Stephen there, they exchanged shots and Hoon ended up getting grazed on the arm.”

“Where is he?”

“He's already been taken care of by your father's doctor and given medication, but I thought it best to leave him on the fourth floor of the mansion,” he explained, watching Jongseong get up from his chair and walk to the door. Following behind without saying much, Heeseung just let his friend guide him to where he had said Sunghoon was.

Everything that involved Jongseong's family was there. Everything he had ever known since he was born was under that roof, and the promise he had made to his father was to honor everything he had built and never to distort the Park family's principles.

When the two stopped at the door to the room that Heeseung had indicated, Jongseong simply opened it without ceremony or introducing himself. Pairs of eyes stared at him at that moment, and he felt a slight anger - accompanied by enormous relief - when he saw Sunghoon's smile.

“You son of a—”

“Just a graze wound, I'm alive” he was still smiling, grumbling loudly as he tried to raise his arm to greet his boss and friend. The dark-haired man approached, waving to the others as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“I'm the one who's going to kill you, you idiot” Jongseong whispered, but the entire room could hear “If that happened, then did you exchange gunfire?”

An almost deafening silence was present. Sunghoon closed his eyes for a few seconds, pondering whether he should omit it and say that Stephen was so angry that he tried to hurt him, but he couldn't lie. He knew that Jongseong would end up finding out sooner or later.

So he just nodded, looking at the boy in front of him as he saw him sigh.

“I want to know every single detail of what happened in that bar, and what Bohr said to you before he hurt you.”

After everything Jongseong told you about your father, each day that passed your desire to meet him diminished even more. Maybe it would be better to stay trapped in that place and rot as much as you were wasting away with disgust and disbelief. The man who raised you. The man who, together with your mother, brought you into this world and gave you the best life to date.

You felt like vomiting every time you thought about each thing the boy had said to you almost three weeks ago. You also heard conversations behind the door and the small visits you had when someone brought you food.

One of the times you pretended to be asleep because you had cried a lot hours before and didn't want to be nice to anyone, although your niceness was limited to thanking them for the meals they offered you. But that night you heard very little.

The man who kidnapped you, the owner of that place, was talking to someone else. Hee… Something. You didn't understand, it wasn't important. But your mind recorded a few words.

Your father had attacked some of Jongseong's men at the bar. He was asking about you, but it seemed like he wasn't sure if it was the Park family who was holding you captive. So your father had so many enemies that he didn't even know who had kidnapped you? That was disgusting, and as each day passed, you became even more distrustful. Regardless of whether he was after the head of whoever had done that to you, or was offering a reward to whoever found you, you didn't want to be found.

If that mafia decided to release you one day, you would make sure to move to another country, change your identity, and disappear from the Bohr family's radar and everything that surname carried.

For the umpteenth time the door opened, someone was carrying your meal and you judged it to be breakfast by the dark and strong drink steaming inside a mug. Food wasn't very important to you at that moment, but your throat was yearning for coffee.

“Here you go, Miss Bohr” even though it was the only way everyone addressed you in that place, it was horrible to remember that your last name was known for such atrocity.

The boy in question placed the tray a little closer, waiting for you to come closer as you always did to get something to eat. Your hand reached up to grab just the mug, the warmth of the ceramic against your fingers warming your entire body at that moment.

Your lips slowly met there, drinking the hot and strong liquid and feeling it go down your throat. Your eyes closed, savoring how good it was.

For a moment you saw yourself far from that scene, drinking coffee anywhere other than in a dirty and precarious room, without an unknown boy staring at you and waiting for you to at least take a bite of the toast he had brought. Just to make sure you wouldn’t die of hunger. For a moment you wished you weren’t part of the family you were, or at least, didn’t know what you were now learning.

Would it be good to continue living a lie? Where you believed that your father did nothing wrong except live illegally with things here and there, not recruiting women and running a dirty scheme.

At that moment, many things went through your mind, but one of them surprised you as you took your lips off the mug and said it out loud, unable to control yourself.

“Do you want to help kill my father?”

“Excuse me?” the boy practically choked on the saliva he was almost swallowing, widening his eyes at you while you still held the mug in your hands, but away from your lips.

“I know your boss is going to do something to him, after all, my father stole from his father and did all these bad things and—” you sighed audibly, the boy in front of you sighed along with you, but a little less audibly. You went back to drinking some coffee, staring at his dimly lit face “I want to know if you intend to kill him or kill me first.”

You saw him move for the first time since you had entered that room and brought him your coffee. He took a few steps forward, his eyes fixed on you as you could see how deeply he was thinking.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he said firmly, and you might even have believed him if it weren’t for your father’s teachings. Something or other was good to get from a family of mafia bosses.

Of course, he knew what you were talking about, and the idea of ​​asking that was crazy. He wouldn’t tell you what the boss was thinking of doing, much less to the daughter of one of his biggest rivals.

“I— I thought—” you were running out of cards, you thought he might give in with the sudden question and the way you hadn’t shown yourself vulnerable. You put the coffee mug back on the tray, shrinking your body a little more before closing your eyes. “Forget it. I just want them to get this over with.”

“And why do you want to know if we want to help kill your father?” he asked. Your eyes looked at him again, and you could see that the boy’s expression was now slightly doubtful, but at the same time, he seemed too calm. He didn’t have a hint of fear, unlike you, who had tried to be strong since you started that conversation.

He was the first boy who had come there to deliver food and who had started talking to you. The others barely answered you or simply cut the subject short and wished you a good meal before leaving, but not this one.

“To be quite honest? I don’t know.” Your eyes began to burn at the idea of ​​helping to kill your father, especially since he was still your father, unfortunately. As the boy lowered himself to stand in front of you and at your sitting height, you felt a tear run down your cheek. A mix of feelings that ran through you and, at the same time, that you wanted to get rid of.

“Do you think we would kill him? Or would it be more pleasurable to make him see you suffer and the Bohr empire fall completely?” He began, “Because what your father did to my best friend and several women was not a very good thing.”

You knew. You wanted to answer that you knew, you wanted to scream and cry, saying that probably your friends who you thought had abandoned you every time they came to your house, had been kidnapped by your father. Who knows where they were now, doing who knows what? While you thought they had grown tired of you and your life, just like your father told you. That no one was an outcast to be your friend. That no woman was at your feet in friendship while you wasted away crying thinking that something was wrong.

The only thing wrong was that your father took advantage of the fact that your friends were close in age to yours, they would be perfect targets for what he did.

Disgust, resentment. Everything you felt at once when you thought about it.

“I think he did something to my friends because I’ve never been able to have a friend again.” Your throat burned, and your eyes were blurry as you tried to decipher whether the man looked at you with pity or anger for seeing someone of the same blood as your father in front of him. You tried to swallow your tears, but it wasn’t enough, it had to come out somehow. “And when your boss told me everything my father did…”

“So little princess Bohr wants to avenge her friends and help the Park mafia kill your father?” He laughed for a long time, or at least it seemed that way to you. Besides, saying it out loud seemed absurd, but in your thoughts, it was becoming more and more likely. It wasn’t something that could be out of reach, especially since you wanted to make him pay now that everything was falling into place in your mind.

“I just— I—”

“Excuse me, I have to get back to work,” he interrupted you, standing up before it was too late to give in to your request – which hadn’t even been made out loud, anyway.

“Wait! Hee…”

He turned around abruptly, his eyes wide and his lips parted.

“Do you know my name? Who the fuck told you my name, Bohr?” He took a few steps towards you, making you shrink even further against the wall – if that was even possible – making your back hurt from the extra pressure.

“I don’t know, I just heard…” you swallowed hard, the crying had already disappeared and given way to fear. The eyes that had previously looked at you with curiosity now looked with anger and something else that you couldn’t even name.

“What did you hear? Tell me!” he shouted.

“Hey!” another shout from the other side of the room, you and the boy looked in the direction quickly “What’s going on here?”

It was boss Park, you would recognize his voice and posture anywhere. Especially because he was the one who had visited you the most in that grotesque place.

Without an answer, the other left so quickly that you didn't even hear what he mumbled before he left. Leaving you and the dark-haired man alone in that room.

He stared at the door that had been opened with force at that moment, and then his eyes soon went to you and scanned everything around you.

“Eat, your coffee is going to get cold.”

That was the only thing he said before leaving the room and closing the door a little more gently than the last one. Leaving you with a million thoughts, a racing heart, and even more desire to cry.

Heeseung felt his head spin. Jongseong's fist landed the umpteenth blow, making the boy stagger back until he sat aggressively in the chair.

“I—”

“Shut up, you piece of shit, I'm not done yet” he approached again, his right hand was already at the perfect angle for the next punch, but the force with which he was stopped made him take a few steps back.

The smoldering look he directed at whoever was responsible for stopping him didn't have much effect, Jaeyun just looked at him with a serious expression, not as rigid as that of his best friend and boss of that mafia.

“Is it over yet?” he tried to seem indifferent to what was happening, almost letting out a loud curse when he saw Heeseung's bloody face.

“I was almost—”

“Killing our best friend? Of course.” Jaeyun laughed sarcastically, a trait he learned over time as he delved deeper into that dark world. If it weren’t for the two boys right in front of him, Sim would no longer be among them.

“You don’t even know what happened. You wouldn’t be acting so normal if you let me talk.”

“Then start talking,” he said.

Sim Jaeyun was the only one who could make Park Jongseong lose his boss's composure and listen to someone. Aside from Park James, his father, he knew that Jaeyun could make him maintain a more appropriate and less executioner posture than what was left after the patriarch was gone.

He saw his best friend on the edge of the ruins and tried his best to bring him back and not make the boy so bad or so bloodthirsty like that. Very few times were they successful, he brought something good out of Jongseong. But most of the time he ended up arriving late with his best friend covered in blood on his hands – literally or not – and that frustrated him.

“Heeseung almost ruined everything” Jongseong sighed, running his hands over his shirt without the intention of cleaning the blood from his friend that had been there “He almost ruined my months-long plan now.”

“How?” Jaeyun sighed, walking over to Heeseung who hadn’t opened his mouth to say a single word since the other arrived there.

“Interacted with Bohr’s daughter” Jongseong continued “I heard almost everything before I arrived.”

And then he stopped talking. It was Jaeyun’s cue to look at Heeseung so he could start saying something.

“I was intrigued by the fact that she asked if we wanted to help kill her father, who talked about her friends.” With some difficulty, Heeseung spoke a few words very slowly. Feeling the corner of his mouth pull back and the metallic taste of blood between his teeth. He closed his eyes, an uncomfortable pain in his jaw making itself felt, but he had to continue. “Jay’s plan is incredible, he wants to avenge Uncle James and that’s the main thing here, we know, but…”

“Heeseung” Jaeyun stopped him as he began to put together the dots of his friend’s imaginary puzzle in front of him.

“What if—”

“You don’t know if that was it, man. We can’t be sure…”

“But I could ask” he continued. “We didn’t know anything about his daughter until then, but—”

“Don’t finish this.”

“Or what? Are you going to beat me up like Jay is doing because I think your sister was friends with Bohr’s daughter and disappeared into all this shit?”

Silence. Jaeyun felt a pang in his chest as he stared at Heeseung as soon as he opened his eyes.

It wasn't the injured boy's fault that he wanted to know about Jaeyun's sister, after all, she was Heeseung's, first love. He wanted as much as Jongseong to get involved and destroy Stephen Bohr. For different reasons, but with a common goal.

Heeseung had no idea that anything could fit, but as soon as you mentioned that all your friendships were disappearing… Then maybe you could have met Sim's sister. Maybe you could have spent the last moments with her in a way that he couldn't. And that made him rekindle something that, for a long time, was no longer there.

Revenge was something he wanted more than anything, and when he heard you with the idea of ​​helping to kill boss Bohr, he couldn't deny it. But he also couldn't control the anger he felt when he heard his name mentioned by someone in his family. You weren't to blame for what your father did or what he became, but Heeseung couldn't blame himself for feeling angry at everything and everyone that came from that family either.

“It wasn't just you who lost her, Heeseung.” Jongseong bit his lower lip, the strength of his teeth biting into the flesh with the urge to cry out of anger, sadness, and injustice. He lifted his head and stared at the ceiling. “Emma was Jake's sister, your girlfriend, and my best friend too.”

“Don't talk about her in the past tense, no—”

“Do you think she's still alive?” Jaeyun asked.

Jongseong and Heeseung looked at each other for the first time since all of this had started. Since seeking revenge against the Bohr family had been solely because he had robbed the Park family. No other motive had been mentioned by the son of the late patriarch and – now – mafia boss.

“I don’t know,” Jongseong replied, not feeling confident in his answer and even feeling confident enough to look at his two friends at that moment. “I just want to focus on the robbery against my family, because if I think about Emma…”

“If I think about my sister…” Jaeyun interrupted, “I’ll go down to that room myself and kill Bohr’s daughter.”

“We need her.” Heeseung wanted to accept the offer, kill someone from the family of a man who had only harmed and – possibly – had taken away one of the most important people for the three of them there.

“To send false information to her father? Are you going to tell me which of the two dogs ate Miss Bohr’s pinky?”

“No, not for that” he continued speaking, ignoring Jaeyun’s questions and looking back at Jongseong. His friend looked back at him, holding the look that carried a lot of feeling at that moment. “But I think she can be useful to us.”

“And how would she be useful besides serving as bait to corner her father?” Jongseong was a little uncertain, even though he knew where Heeseung was going with all of this.

He knew what his best friend thought. He knew that he didn't leave anything unanswered much less leave something loose without explanation or conclusion, thinking about it had some purpose for him.

“She seemed very disappointed with everything that happened, you said yourself that she didn't want to eat for a long time after she found out about everything her father did.”

The two remembered the times when Jongseong showed a little compassion for the woman held captive who wouldn't eat after the great disappointment. Her father's mask fell and she discovered the true face of someone who had always raised her and had to be there to protect her. It was the first time that Jaeyun and Heeseung saw their boss worried to the point that he avoided seeing her like that. Looking for some way to make her feel a little more comfortable – even if it was impossible – in the place they were keeping her.

“If we tell her about Emma, ​​ask if they were friends and even tell her what her father did during all this time besides the robberies, she might join us.”

“You want Bohr’s daughter to be our ally to kill her father?” Jaeyun asked, incredulous at his friend’s crazy mind.

“It would be perfect, dude” he sighed, a little less in pain than before “She knows her father’s every move. She knows if he has any hiding places, she knows what he does and doesn’t do” Heeseung got up from the chair, staggered a little, and was supported by Jongseong. With an apologetic look, he felt the strong grip on his friend’s shoulder before straightening up and standing up.

“Do you two think she would be convinced to help us?” Jongseong asked after letting go of Heeseung. He wasn’t confident in that, after all, his initial plan was being completely diverted. But he couldn’t deny that the idea was working out well.

“If we talk a little better and not in that grotesque room, maybe she’ll accept.”

Maybe she’ll accept, or maybe she won’t. There were both possibilities, and Jongseong was starting to freak out internally. He could deny it, go ahead with the plan, and start negotiations. Take someone’s finger and send it by mail, or take photos that could simulate you being in the worst condition, just so your father would feel some kind of fear and threaten whoever was behind it.

But most of boss Park’s thoughts revolved around the possibility that you could be a great help, that you could ally with them and infiltrate your father’s mafia to gather as much information as possible before he recovered everything that was stolen and then take revenge on your father.

Walking slowly to the table, Jongseong felt his body ache. Too much adrenaline and too many mixed feelings in a short time. He just wanted to hug his dogs, take a long bath, and sleep for almost twelve hours if possible. But he had to think fast and act even faster.

As he sat down in his usual leather chair, both pairs of eyes stared at him expectantly, waiting for a response: positive or negative. It didn't matter, they just wanted Jongseong to say something.

A small sigh was heard, the head thrown back on the back of the chair and the dark-haired man's unreadable gaze before the words left his lips.

“Let's talk to her and try to convince her to join us.”

“What if it doesn't work out?” Jaeyun asked, thinking of all the possibilities. Jongseong liked this because he was one of the few men working for the Park family who thought of both possibilities. It was never a matter of just winning or losing. Jaeyun always thought of yes and no.

“If it doesn't work out, we'll have to kill two Bohrs, not just Stephen.”

© ikeuverse, 2025. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[gigabyte-flare]

Pause the Game

[A Gigabyte Flare One Shot]

Summary: You decide to play a video game to help you wind down so you can go to bed. Sylus has other plans.

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairing: Sylus x fem!Reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Pet names, dubcon, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie

A/N: Part one of 21 Reasons is going to be freaking massive so I wanted to get a one shot out to help hold me over (especially after yesterday's banner reveal WOOF). This is loosely based on Sylus's "Crying Wolf" Secret times; as an avid gamer, that audio rewired my freaking brain. So naturally, this is 5000% self indulgent, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway!

It's now morning, you begin to make a mental note of all the things you have to do today before the day ends; you don't have much time.

Wake up, go water the plants, collect the eggs, milk the cows, collect the duck feathers, sheer the sheep--

"What are you playing, Sweetie?"

You practically jump where you're sat up in bed, dropping your phone in the blankets on your lap. You didn't even hear Sylus come into the bedroom.

"Are you trying to scare me, Sy?" you ask, rolling your eyes up at him as he leans over the bed to see what you're so focused on.

"Me, try to scare you? Never. Although I am shocked my little Hunter didn't even notice me…" a devious smirk appears on his lips as he leans in close to your ear, "when I was this close."

His breath on your ear causes a chill to run straight down your spine and into your core, the depths of you throbbing in response to his voice; he knows exactly what buttons to push on you. You shake your head, pushing the lewd thoughts aside just as you bring your hand up, pushing his face away.

"Sylus, come on, I was just really focused on what I was doing!"

He instantly grabs your wrist, holding it still for a moment before letting go; his devious smirk transforming into something darker, "you should know better, it'll take more than just your hand to keep me away, Kitten."

A sudden sad sounding chime emanates from your phone, drawing your and Sylus's attention to it, the words 'YOU LOSE: The wolf ate your livestock!' hovering on the screen. You let out an annoyed sigh as you pick up your phone from your lap.

"Oops… looks like you lost. Sorry for interrupting your game, Sweetie," he says with a low chuckle as he stands back up straight, slipping his hands into the pockets of his dress pants, "don't I recall you telling me this morning that you are going to start going to bed early from now on? Only naughty Kittens stay up and play games."

You clear your throat, once again willing yourself to not let Sylus get you worked up, "I like to play video games to help me wind down and go to sleep!"

Looking down at you, Sylus raises a scrutinizing eyebrow, "playing video games to fall asleep? That is the most absurd thing I've ever heard. I think someone is trying to pull the wool over my eyes."

"No I'm not! Here, give it a try! It's relaxing!" you reply, holding up your phone to Sylus.

"You want me to play your silly game?" he raises his brows, glancing down at your phone before his crimson gaze shifts back up to you, he smirks again, "Oh… you're trying to prove your innocence to me. I suppose I'll indulge you."

He gently takes your phone from you, pulling the comforter back to sit in bed next to you, "scoot over, Sweetie."

You immediately shift over so he can sit next to you, laying your head against his upper arm as he cradles your phone in his hands.

"So, what exactly do you do in this game?" he asks softly.

"It's a farming simulator; you take care of your crops and livestock each day, but if you're not paying attention, the wolf will come and eat your livestock," you explain as you watch him start to play your game, the upbeat music of the game once again filling the bedroom.

"I can see how you fall asleep playing this, it's awfully boring," he replies with another soft chuckle, "let me count the sheep… one, two…"

You playfully poke Sylus's side, "well I like this game, quit being a jerk."

Sylus lets out a huff as he smiles down at your phone. He mindlessly takes care of your farm for a few minutes before his gaze begins to wander; starting with your hands folded in your lap, up your arms until he finally settles on the necklace adorning your neck.

His breath hitches upon recognizing the necklace, "is that the necklace I gave you for your birthday?"

"It is, actually," you reply, looking downwards as your bring you hand up to gently caress the necklace resting on your collarbone area, "I really like it."

"I have good taste, don't I?" Sylas asks, his own hand caressing the necklace, leaning over so that his lips hover just next to your ear, "so pretty."

He kisses the shell of your ear, intentionally making a sound knowing it drives you absolutely wild with need. His lips move from your ear, to just behind your ear, using his tongue, teeth and lips to mark your skin. You can't help but let out a soft whimper, however, you advert your gaze to your phone in his hand, the farm being left unattended.

"Sylus, what are you doing?"

"Sorry, Sweetie. This spot was too enticing for me to resist…" he purrs into your ear.

"But the farm--"

"The farm?" Sylus sits back up, his crimson eyes giving you a predatory look, "I don't have your undivided attention, do I?"

He growls, turning his body and climbing on top of you while still under the blankets, essentially caging you with his body, his ruby eyes practically burning into your soul as he looks down at you, "you know how much I hate sharing, Kitten."

Your phone, now laying on the bed next to the two of you, plays the same sad chime from earlier. You watch Sylus's eyes shift over to your phone, that smirk you love so much appearing once more, "oh dear… looks like we lost again."

Leaning down to you, his lips hover above yours, his breaths ragged, hot and heavy as he whispers, "the wolf ate all the animals."

Before you can even say a word, he descends upon you, his mouth devouring yours like a man starved. His hands grip your upper arms like a vice as he turns his head to invade your mouth with his tongue, savoring you. In the midst of this, you try to reach over to grab your phone, but Sylus is quick to grab you by the wrist again, pinning your arm to the mattress before shoving your phone away, so hard that it falls off the bed.

"Now, why are you reaching for your phone?" he asks, burying his face into the crook of your neck, "if you need something to help you fall asleep, I can fulfill that role."

He props himself up on his arms and knees, once again caging you beneath him. First, he slips your pajama top up over your head before he slowly moves downward, trailing his lips and tongue down your body as he moves.

He stops briefly over your breasts, his hot breath caressing your hardened nipples before he speaks, "how do you think the wolf ate the animals? Like this?"

His mouth seals itself over one of your breasts, his tongue swirling and flicking your nipple; all the while his crimson gaze is locked on you. You can't help but let out a strangled moan, covering your mouth with your hand as your body trembles beneath him.

He relinquishes your breast with a pop, then proceeds to continue moving downward once more, gracing your skin with his soft lips as he moves lower and lower. He reaches the hem of your pajama bottoms, hooking them and your underwear beneath with his fingers, peeling them off slowly and tossing them off the bed once they're off. He pries your legs apart, looking up at you with an animalistic grin.

"Or like this?" he growls before diving into the spot between your thighs, lapping up the sweet nectar of your arousal.

"Sylus!" you cry out, your hand moving down to tangle your fingers in his silver locks, but rather than push him away, you force him down into your heat, earning you a dark chuckle in response; the vibrations coursing through your folds, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

He starts by flicking your throbbing clit with his tongue, then wrapping his lips around it, sucking it like his life depends on it. The coil of your release binds tight in your stomach and just when it's about to snap, he moves lower. His tongue delves into your leaking hole, caressing your walls as his nose rubs your clit. Your heels dig into the mattress, trying to stop your legs from violently shaking, but your efforts are useless. Your makeup is running down the sides of your face from your violent cries of his name. He lets out a low growl, the vibrations hurling you over the edge. Your release covers tongue and mouth; when he pulls himself away from your sex, strings of your orgasm pull away with him before snapping and dripping onto the sheets below.

Sylus sits up onto his knees, his deft fingers making short work of his belt and pants zipper, "is my Kitten prepared?"

Your eyes widen when he pulls out his hardened length, the tip red and angry, dripping with pre-cum. He then proceeds to crawl back up to you, nestling his hips between your spread legs; you feel the tip of his cock prod at your entrance.

"Because the wolf is coming."

With a single jerk of his hips, he sheathes his whole length into your warm depths, causing you to yelp. As Sylus stares down at you, you drape your arms around his shoulders, trying to brace yourself as he begins to brutally thrust into you. Each thrust hits your cervix, making your eyes flutter and roll into the back of your head. Sylus buries his face into the crook of your neck once more, biting and sucking dark bruises into your skin.

"Don't hold back, Kitten. I want to hear how good I'm making you feel."

His ministrations move to your throat, but not before running his tongue over the necklace he bought you, pulling a strangled moan out of you. His tongue continues to run up your throat until he reaches your chin. He smirks, a low chuckle emanating from him before his lips are on yours once more. You can taste the tangy flavor of your release as your tongues dance with each other. His large hands grasp your breasts, gently squeezing them before he rolls both nipples between his index fingers and thumbs. You sob into his mouth, which he happily devours with a growl. Soon, his thrusts become uneven, heralding his release.

With a breathy moan of his own, he snaps his hips into you once last time, his member throbbing as he paints your pussy walls white with his love. His hands grasp the pillow under your head as he rests his forehead against yours. You whimper as your legs hook around his waist, your body shaking as you come down from your own release. Your breaths are shaking as you place a gentle kiss onto the tip of his nose. He can't help but smile and laugh.

"That was more fun than you silly little game, wouldn't you say, Sweetie?"

[raekensluver]

closing arguments

masterlist | main masterlist - part one, part two, part three

description: you and arthur have always been rivals, competing over everything from grades to courtroom wins. but when rivalry starts to feel like something more, losing to him doesn’t feel like losing anymore.

contains: fluff, eventual smut, rivals to lovers trope, lawyer!fem!reader

song rec: company by justin bieber - "just wanna have a conversation, forget about the obligations."

w.c: 765+

a.n: the names i used for the case are totally made up. also, thank you so much @pretendyoucantseeme for helping me edit!!

the sound of your heels echoed across the marbled floors of the courthouse lobby, each step a declaration of intent. you adjusted the cuffs of your blazer with a flick of your wrist and didn’t bother hiding the smirk that tugged at your lips when you spotted the familiar figure standing just outside courtroom 4b.

arthur frederick.

even from a distance, he was insufferably composed. his hunter green suit was immaculate, his tie knotted with precision that felt almost smug, and the portfolio tucked under his arm might as well have been a sword the way he wielded it - deadly and precise.

he looked up at the sound of your approach. his expression flickered - recognition, mild surprise, and then that trademark smirk that had followed you since the first day of law school.

"let me guess," he said, voice smooth as silk and twice as sharp, "robinson v. hughes?"

"you really ought to stop stalking my docket, frederick," you replied, matching his smirk with one of your own. "it’s starting to look a little desperate."

arthur gave a short, clipped laugh. "it’s not stalking if we just keep getting assigned to the same cases."

you sigh. it was true. somehow, in this vast city filled with overworked attorneys and endless firms, you and arthur always seemed to end up in the same courtroom, across the aisle. your firms were rivals - cutthroat, corporate, and both equally determined to be the best. you had landed at langston & hawke straight out of law school, while arthur had joined garrick wolfe llp. they were your firm’s closest competition, your mirror opposite. if langston & hawke believed in calculated pressure and ironclad paperwork, garrick wolfe was about charm, flair, and disruption.

you never quite saw eye to eye. even in law school, the tension had been palpable. different values. different methods. same insatiable need to win.

"we’re due to start in ten," arthur said, tilting his head toward the courtroom doors. "don’t worry, i’ll try not to embarrass you too badly."

"you say that every time," you said, brushing past him. "and yet somehow i still keep walking out with the victory."

you didn’t turn to look, but you could feel his eyes follow you all the way in.

the courtroom was already half-filled when you stepped inside. you greeted your client with a nod and began setting up at your table, placing files and notes in the precise order you preferred. arthur was doing the same across the aisle.

the judge entered promptly on the hour, and you both stood, reciting the same respectful greeting.

the case itself was simple on the surface: a dispute over a broken contract. your job was to prove your client was right, that the other party didn’t hold up their end of the deal. arthur’s job? the opposite.

"your honor, the other side is twisting the agreement’s wording," you said as you stood, holding your folder in one hand. "they’re leaving out key parts that alter the meaning of the contract."

arthur stood too, eyes sharp. "actually, the case of evans v. wright shows that similar contracts have been interpreted our way in the past."

you blinked. "that case is from 1998. it barely applies here. you can’t use outdated examples to win arguments, frederick."

the judge sighed like she’d seen this movie before. "counsel, approach."

you both walked up to her bench. your shoulders brushed briefly. arthur smelled like cedarwood and clean air. you hated that you noticed.

the judge gave you both a stern look. "this isn’t a debate club. keep it professional. mr. frederick, she’s right - you’re stretching."

arthur gave a polite nod. "understood, your honor."

back at your table, you risked one glance in his direction. he caught your eye and smiled, just a little.

infuriating.

two hours later, the judge postponed the decision for a few days. your client was pleased, which meant you were too. you began gathering your things when arthur appeared beside you.

"good job today," he said, voice softer now.

you looked up. "that mean you're admitting i won this round?"

"not officially. but... yeah. maybe."

it was the most honest thing he’d said to you in years.

"drinks later?" he asked. "just to keep the rivalry alive."

you hesitated. you should say no. you really should. but instead, you nodded.

"one drink. and if you start quoting old cases, i’m out."

he grinned. "deal."

you walked out of the courtroom together, not quite touching, but close.

it didn’t feel like a battle anymore.

it felt like a beginning.

[secrettyrant]

"It will get cleaned up but that's not the problem. And the problem isn't finding who did it either." Wolf has patience with Hunter and there's no aggravation in his tone, just tiny nudges to make his brick-strong brother try and see a softer side to life. "You mean crying over spilled milk?" he laughs then, slapping Hunter on the arm but then gesturing. "Well, the mess is spilled milk, I guess. But the rest of it? It's a little more than that." Wolf explains, taking a deep sigh and scanning the space for any sign of Xo. A grin snaps onto his face at Hunter's confidence, turning his head to look at him and laughing slightly. "Bruce doesn't need to do anything, he's the closest thing we have to Lee's words. He can do what he wants." Wolf shrugs and he was under the belief that Hunter accepted things like that, but as always his brother picks and chooses what to believe in. "I'd care. He's fucking massive."

Hunter's shrug was driven by his lack of understanding. It had been the same since they were kids. The words, Hunter knew, but the meanings of them never quite stuck. You could call it brushing off the things he never understood, or simply too used to drowning out the insults from Jeffrey. Words stopped meaning a lot of things. "It'll get cleaned up, Wolf." he stated as his brows furrowed. Sure, one hell of a job but what else was there to do? "What's that thing people say about not buyin' milk when they're sad?" he shrugged again. It was done, and all Hunter cared about was finding who did it. Who made his brother feel this way and who made his nieces and nephews feel this way and who made the woman his brother cared about feel it too. The mention of Dex brought a pause from him, shaking his head slightly. "Nah, Bruce needs to fucking listen for once and a while. I don't care about his fucking giant brother."

[antlerqueensab]

t.m. relationship timeline

1.2k words

pre-crash - ᯓ ✈︎ ⋆°•☁︎

he most likely would meet you/notice you at a yellowjackets game that his dad dragged him and javi to. and travis, being the stubborn asshole he was, kept his headphones on the entire game.

he'd also for sure act like he wasn't watching you, 'the only thing on the field worth watching' to his mind. travis couldn't give a fuck less about soccer if we're being honest, and if he has to come to another game - better believe he's sulking in the stands with his arms crossed and walkman in his lap while strictly watching you.

then, about a month later, when semesters switched for school, travis found himself sitting directly next to you. really, he blamed it on teachers and their unnecessary need to have a seating chart. but he also couldn't help but silently thank his stupid english teacher when he just kept looking and looking at you.

it probably took him at least a week to talk to you. we all know that he has absolutely no experience with girls, plus all the weird '90s mindset of how guys are supposed to be. but when he does start talking and, to his surprise, you reply and actually seem engaged with the conversation, it's like a switch in his mind flips and he's immediately crushing on you.

after getting together, though, travis would most definitely complain every single time that you talked about the team, even though he has a grin on his face and he's letting you talk all you want. he'd know all about the plays that you've been practicing during the later practices after school, and who's mad at who on the team.

when boarding the plane - since he didn't even want to go on the trip in general - travis would flat out refuse to sit next to his dad and javi (even though they both offered), choosing to find an empty row and drag you with him to sit beside you. he'd ask you if you wanted to borrow his headphones or if you wanted him to keep them off for the flight. you chose the easier option and let him keep the headphones on and let him fall asleep on your shoulder.

during the wilderness - 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

season one and two would probably be the same as the show; travis sticking with his fuckass attitude, staying by your side the entire time - mainly because he does not want to interact with the rest of the girls, and him and natalie still becoming the hunters.

doomcoming would've been completely different, therefore the SA he experienced (and obviously sleeping with jackie) wouldn't be a thing and he'd instead spend it with you joking about how "prom sucked this year" and "you wear that thing pretty good." thank you akilah, by the way, for the twig and moss crown. as well as taking a walk in the woods tripping out until you both ended up accidentally falling asleep leaning against a log in a clearing.

during when javi was missing, though, and a little because of his dad's death, he'd cry almost every night and use his body to just cover yours, clinging to you like he's afraid you'll be gone too if his hands loosen just barely - and he will absolutely not take that chance of losing the only person left in his life he cares about. so, you might end up with marks on your sides or arms the next day, a bit of soreness, and definitely tear-stained shirts. but he refuses to acknowledge any of his actions in the morning.

when it gets to the point of season three, travis wouldn't really be as quiet and spacey because he had you stuck by him the entire time. you and he for sure had a small make-shift funeral for javi, so travis got at least a little bit of closure. making the hut a bit away from the rest of the camp to put space between you two and them - especially after having to resort to cannibalism just to stay alive. he'd be the one to cover the makeshift walls with the drawings javi made, as well as keeping the small wolf he carved next to the hammock.

travis would actually enjoy seeing you participate in the games with the girls, sometimes helping you win tag or whatever the game is, even though he's not playing or on either of the teams. it would remind him of when he first saw you on the soccer field pre-crash, and that sorta gave him some semblance of "control" of where life had ended up for you both.

when lottie starts giving him the shrooms, though, he'd get back to the hut exhausted and just collapse onto you, mumbling nonsense about what had happened that time and that he had no idea what to do since he couldn't bring himself to tell lottie to knock it off. which, in turn, gave you the idea of telling lottie that akilah was chosen by the wilderness and travis was being let go from the role lottie placed upon him.

when it actually worked, though, he'd be so thankful and spend at least a week doing whatever you asked as a thanks for you getting him out of doing the shrooms. travis would also most definitely make jokes about you being a prophet or something because your "hunch" about akilah being chosen was helping lottie, too.

post-rescue - ༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

travis would probably ask if he could stay over with you and your family a lot. he hates how quiet and lifeless his house is now with his dad and javi gone, and his mom always tells him to do whatever he feels the need to. which, you had turned into his home ever since the first few months of being stuck, so he felt safe and comforted with you.

you were the one to suggest a farm originally, after thinking back to mortimer in the wilderness and how travis looked like he felt useful when he held him, you just had to suggest something to help you both feel connected to the wilderness since you were so used to being out there - even if it was the most mundane way you could. it was still enough to let him feel connected to javi.

neither of you really kept in contact with the other survivors, except maybe the occasional call to misty or natalie, rarely lottie. van and taissa became a 'if there's an occasion, we'll contact or respond.' shauna and melissa became an immediate decline of the call or a burn of whatever they sent in the mail.

you both most likely got married in your twenties, probably about 24 or 25. it wasn't that you needed to figure anything out, because with everything you two went through together in the wilderness, travis would really lose himself completely if he didn't end up with you somehow. it was more of a 'we need to get everything in our lives fully settled and comfortable before we plan anything else' and it was really just a courthouse wedding anyway. lottie was your witness. you both didn't feel the need to have some big celebration and instead made your own in the backyard of the farmhouse.

[coquitokisses]

Oh, baby! | Dean Winchester

Pairings: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Summary: reader had a one night stand with Dean and they find out she’s pregnant

Word count: 1.4k

A/n: I gotta be honest, this is from a fanfic lmao, which is supposed to be a crossover of Teen Wolf and Supernatural, but I haven’t published it yet and I’ve been wanting to write something about Dean for a whileee so I decided to just edit this lil thing I had and post it here cuz why not?

“Hey, Cas, you’re back.” You smile sweetly at him once you saw him as you made your way to the library to help Sam with research

“Hi, y/n.” He replied with a small smile that soon turned into a confused frown

You noticed. “Everything okay?”

“How do you feel?” He asks

“I’m fine.” You replied, not understanding his sudden worry

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Cas, why? What’s wrong?” You questioned feeling a little alarmed by the way he was asking

“It’s just that I feel another presence.” He said

“Another presence?” Sam took his eyes off the laptop to look at Castiel

“What do you mean another presence?” Dean’s voice was soon heard throughout the library

“Is it bad?” You ask

“No,” Castiel shook his head. “It’s inside you.”

“Inside me?!” You were so confused right now “But what is it? Is it bad?”

“Is she okay?” Sam asked somewhat worried after hearing Castiel’s words

“She’s fine,” he replied and then looked at you “Can I?” he raised his hand

You nodded giving him permission to do whatever he had to do. Castiel put a hand on your forehead and then began to lower it down your body, but without actually touching it, until it reached your belly.

“Can I?” he looked at you, you just nodded

He placed his hand on your belly and that’s when he realized what was the presence he was feeling.

“It’s a baby,” he said, removing his hand

You almost choked. “I’m sorry, WHAT?!”

“A.. baby?” Sam was dumbfounded

“Wait, wait, are you sure?” Dean looked at Castiel

“Very sure,” the angel nodded

“It can’t be...” you put one of your hands on your chest. “Oh my God..”

“Are you really sure?” Dean asked again

“Yes, Dean, I am one hundred percent sure that I feel a baby’s presence.” Castiel snapped back

“This isn’t happening.” Dean ran his hands over his face “This is.. this is simply not happening.”

“Please don’t tell me you guys…” Sam looked at you both

“Sam, just shut up for a minute, okay?” Dean replied

“I- I need to get some air.” You muttered as you walked backwards like three steps and then turned around heading to the stairs

“Y/n wait!” Sam called out but you ignored him

You got out of the bunker and you took a deep breath trying to calm yourself down and not have a panic attack.

“This can’t be real..” you murmured to yourself

You raised your hands to your belly and you’re just standing there in shock.

Of course you wanted a family, but you knew that it was probably not going to happen due to the fact that you’re a hunter and you’ve been hunting basically your whole life. You knew how your life was gonna end. And you made your peace with that. Kinda.

Worst thing about all of this is the fact that Dean is the one who got you pregnant. You two used to hate each other, but throughout the years, you’ve learned to tolerate each other and well, you’ve basically been working with them since they had to deal with the angels pretty much.

He’s always had a crush on you and you knew it, but it wasn’t really that serious. He usually just flirted with you and most of the time you just ignored him.

Until a few weeks ago, while you guys were finishing up a case that Sam decided to let you two handle so you could work on your communication and your anger issues, because the week before that, you have to admit that you were both butting heads every five minutes, and it was driving Sam insane. So he sent you both to deal with a vampire case in Wyoming and with a little assignment to work on your issues and stop behaving like kids. His words.

And you did worked your issues out. You just didn’t think it was gonna be by having sex, but hey, you weren’t complaining at all. He was perfect. And it was the best night you’ve ever had in a while.

And here are the results of that hook up.

It’s clear to say that neither of you are prepared, mentally nor physically prepared to have a kid.

And besides, how were you gonna raise a kid together if you can’t even get along for more than two days?

You got on your car and decided to go for a ride, just to clear your head. And while you were at it, you bought like two boxes of pregnancy tests just to be one thousand percent sure and because you would believe it more once you see it yourself.

You got something to eat after that and decided to use the bathroom at a gas station so you could take the pregnancy tests.

While you waited on the results, you were walking around in the small bathroom, thinking what the hell you were gonna do.

After a few minutes of talking to yourself internally, you decided to take a look at the four pregnancy tests.

“Oh god..” you muttered under your breath seeing the plus sign on the tests

(…)

After a while of just driving around, you finally decided to get back to the bunker. Once you open the door, Dean’s head turned to look at you immediately.

“Where were you?” He asked, leaving the book he was reading on the table

“I was getting rid of the little creature,” you replied

“Y/n.” Dean gave your a stern look

“I’m kidding.” You rolled your eyes. “I went for a ride and to get something to eat, anything else you want to know?”

You walked to where he was and put your hand inside the pocket of your jacket.

“In case you thought Castiel was lying...” you took the pregnancy tests out of your jacket pocket and placed them on the table. “It’s quite real.”

Dean looked at the tests in front of him realizing that this was really happening. He did believe Cas, but seeing the positive pregnancy tests, definitely made his mind finally fall into the acceptance that this was real. Very real.

Dean sighed. “Look, I know you’re not completely happy with this situation, believe me, I’m not either, but..-

“But we already did it and now we have to take responsibility, I know,” you said taking off your jacket “What I’m still trying to figure out is how you and I are going to raise a baby”

“I don’t know either.” He sighed

“This wasn’t supposed to happen” you pulled out a chair so you could sit and then you brought your hands to you face

“I know...” Dean said in a soft voice and leaned a little so he could look at you. “Hey,” he gently took you by the wrists, removing your hands from your face. “You’re not going to be alone, I’m not going for a pack of cigarettes and never come back.”

That made you laugh a little. “I know you won’t.”

“I’m just.. scared.” He admitted “Scared to raise a kid, scared that I might turn out like my dad and I don’t want that..”

“You’re not going to be like your father, Dean.” You said softly “And I’m scared too, like, I’m gonna be carrying a baby inside of me for the next nine months, I’m terrified that I won’t be a good mom.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re going to be an amazing mom.”

You smiled a little. “That’s kinda comforting.”

“I think we can make it work if we make the effort.”

“We hate each other.” You roll your eyes

He scoffs. “Speak for yourself, I don’t hate you, sweetheart, like, at all.”

You chuckle. “Don’t lie to yourself, you only wanted to get in my pants.” You joked

“Well yeah, but I don’t hate you.” He shrugged

“I don’t hate you either, you’re just.. very annoying.” You said

“You are too.”

You roll your eyes. “Right.”

“In all seriousness,” he started saying “I think we should give it a try.” He looked into your eyes “And you know, we would also be getting out of this life and finally getting a normal one.”

“That does sound nice.” You nodded

“It’s up to you, babe.” He said

You could see in his eyes that he was dead serious about this. He wanted this. He wanted to give it a try with you.

And after a few seconds of thinking, you finally responded.

“Let’s do it then.” You said and he smiled “But we’re not getting married.”

“I’m fine with that.” He said with a shrug which made you smile

part two • main masterlist

A/n: I think I can make this into a small series, should I? 👀

Likes, comments and reblogs will be appreciated! <3

divider creds @hyuneskkami