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#LINES THAT ARE DEFINITELY FROM A FLASHBACK?!?!
oneforthemunny · 7 hours
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if i knew then |ex-husband!eddie munson x ex-wife!reader|
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prompt: a collection of flashbacks from before.
contains: angst. like idk how else to say it- ow ow ow angst. all flashbacks. teen pregnancy, unexpected pregnancy. shitty judgy people. insecurities. dream crushing. fighting. language. really just bittersweet angst. chaos. they're so not good and immature in these. also might be a part one to a two part series.
October 17th, 1985
“We’re gonna get caught, Eddie.” Your heart trilled, heavy and hard at a thundering pace, his hand holding yours so sweetly, guiding you through the small patch of forestry that led to the football stadium- you hoped he couldn’t feel how your palms were beginning to sweat. 
“Who’s gonna catch us?” Eddie turned, chin hooking over his shoulder to give you a teasing grin. He pushed back a limb, unbothered that the branches were undoubtedly scratching at his leather jacket. “No one’s gonna be out here unless they’re doin’ the same shit we are, sweetheart. Promise ya.” 
Your tummy flipped with an adrenaline rush of heat, squeezing his hand tighter, moving closer to him as the dirt path turned to broken concrete, the Hawkin’s High School football stadium vacant of light, but bleachers standing high in the moonlight. 
Eddie moved towards the back side of the chain link fence, to the corner, heavy boot sliding under the exposed chain metal, lifting it so it peeled upwards. “After you,” Eddie bowed playfully, nodding towards the small gap. 
Your lips twisted, heat pricking at your cheeks. “I should’ve worn pants, I guess.” You muttered, hands smoothing over the skirt you’d chosen instead, despite the chilly temperatures. You knew Eddie liked you in a skirt, eyes always lingering and flickering towards your exposed legs. Even before you were ‘official’, you’d always catch him looking during fourth period. 
“‘S alright,” Eddie shrugged, lips puckering and pulling into a smirk he tried to hide. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.” 
“Eddie,” You hissed, a trilling squeal of excitement in your tone, looking over your shoulder as you shimmied through the small space, careful not to pick your sweater. 
Eddie grinned, though you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted, catching a peek as you crawled in. He followed you closely, expertly sliding in before the chain fencing snapped back into place. You wondered how many times he’d snuck in here before. Maybe he was the one who made the hole in the fence to begin with. If he’d brought any other girls with him before. 
Eddie’s hand found your back, sliding over to your hip, pulling you close into him. “See? No one’s here.” Eddie nodded, motioning towards the empty rows of bleachers, the vacant football field. “You can relax now, baby, told you no one would be here.” 
“Yeah?” You hummed, leaning into his chest, warm cotton brushing your skin. “Guess I should trust you. Seems like you’ve done this a few times before.” 
Eddie’s chest rumbled with a laugh, squeezing the fat of your hip. “Only a few.” 
“Yeah? With who?” You scoffed lightly, brows pinched when you looked up at him. 
Eddie’s brows raised in amusement, lips rolling and biting back a grin. “Really hot chick, ya know? Her name was Gareth.” Eddie snorted in laughter. “I’ve only been here one time, last year with Gareth. We spray painted Kimmy Frank’s number on the field, wrote ‘call for a good time’ under it after she stood Jeff up at homecoming.”
“That was you?” You gawked. 
“Yeah,” Eddie smirked proudly. “She deserved it. Asked him out and got him all excited, then laughed at him when he showed up. Said it was a dare and called him names. Really fucked him up, ya know? So we thought we’d embarrass her.” 
“It definitely worked.” You muttered, passing the twenty yard line that stood out from the others with a fresh coat of paint, from Eddie and Gareth’s handiwork. “Didn’t the Franks have to change numbers because so many people were calling?” 
“Yeah,” Eddie snorted with a laugh. “I might’ve put it in the stall at The Hideout, too.” 
Your heart skipped, stomach dropping with the same prickling rush of fear and excitement it always did when you were with Eddie. The head reeling, mind numbing kind of rush that had you brainlessly going into any situation with him. 
“Here,” Eddie pulled you from your own thoughts, stopping at the center of the field. “This feels like a good spot.” 
“Eddie-” You looked around, towards the fence then the other side. You were so exposed, right in the middle of the field, for anyone to see. 
“-Baby, I told you, no one’s gonna come. Believe me.” Eddie hummed, shimmying off his jacket. “It’s not like this is Fort Knox or somethin’. It’s a public high school. No one’s giving a shit who’s here.” 
You bit at your lip, rolling it around as you tugged at your fingers, a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach. It had been growing and growing since you first decided to sneak out, after your parents had gone to bed, slipping through the window and running down the quiet street towards Eddie’s can parked on the corner. 
“C’mon,” Eddie muttered, cold hands catching your jaw, the metal of his rings meeting your own wind bitten cheeks, pulling you into him. “I’m not gonna let you get in trouble.” 
“I feel like you are the trouble.” You muttered, your body betraying your brain, letting yourself slip into his hold, hands pulling at his shirt. 
Eddie grinned, lips barely brushing before they captured yours, pulling you into him. Hands pulling at your clothes, your hips, sinking onto the cold grass. Eddie laid you back on his leather jacket, a gentleman, you mused. Shoving his pants and boxers around his thighs, he flipped your skirt up, lips still pulling at yours as he rutted into you. Your head spun, dizzy with excitement and pleasure, fists balling at the fabric of his shirt, hoping the sun would stay gone forever so the night would never end. 
July 28th, 1986
“Holy shit,” Eddie muttered, cradling the can of Similac. “Is there not a knock off version of this?” 
“No,” You hissed, rocking Jude close to your chest. 
You could feel the judging eyes of the couple beside you. Their baby in a stroller, cart full of diapers and groceries, the woman’s left hand adorning a rather large diamond, the man clean cut in a suit and tie. The polar opposite of you and Eddie, two scraggly looking teens with a two month old baby, and an empty cart. 
“Are you sure you don’t want to just get some of Marsha’s milk?” Eddie asked, turning to look at you. “She said she’s overproducing anyways, and she’d give you some bottles since you’re not-” 
“-Eddie,” Your body burned with embarrassed heat, tensing as the others in the aisle turned, lips pursed in disapproval. “Just get the formula.” 
“Baby, this is two-fifty a can. Marsha said she’d give it for free. I don’t see why you wouldn’t just take that.” Eddie said, trying to rationalize with you. 
The older woman beside you scoffed, her nose sticking in the air in disapproval as she turned to the young girl beside her. “And that’s why you don’t have a baby before you're married. You don’t want to end up like these two.” Her eyes narrowed towards you and Eddie. “It’s unfair to the baby.” 
Your heart stopped, fell into your stomach, your breath leaving with it. You thought you’d be used to this- the dirty, judgy looks when you went to prom nearly nine months pregnant, or when you barely made it to graduation after you had Jude three days prior. Still, it felt like a suckerpunch to your sternum every time. You’d blame the consuming shame as the reason you barely left the house now. 
“Lady, mind your own fuckin’ business, alright?” Eddie snapped, a growl in his voice that left her jumping, hurriedly pushing the cart down the aisle. 
You didn’t dare look to the couple beside you, but you could feel their judgment burning through you. Jude had begun to fuss the moment you entered the store, picking up on your apprehension that left him unsettled, until he finally began to cry. 
“Shit,” Eddie muttered, looking down at the baby, his face beginning to scrunch with the warning of a wail. “Here, take him to the car and I’ll check out.” 
“No, I can check out.” You shook your head, overwhelmed with the interaction from before and now this. “We still need diapers.” 
“I can get diapers-” 
“-No.” You snapped, teeth baring in irritation. “You always get the wrong size. I can get them.” Your voice was harsh, stilling Eddie and you both with shock in the aisle. 
Jude’s whimpering cries were beginning to grow louder over the beating of your heart thundering in your ears. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, looking down at Jude, then back at Eddie. “I just… I need a second.” 
Eddie nodded slowly, pulling out his wallet and passing it to you. “I got him.” Eddie muttered, slowly taking Jude from your arms. “I’ll be in the van. Take your time, baby.” He pressed a kiss to your head before he left you. 
You felt nearly robotic, pushing down the aisles towards the diapers. The dirty looks were gone, they left with Eddie and Jude, but a suffocating feeling of guilt took its place. The woman’s words ringing in your ears, unfair to the baby. Maybe it was, your mind screamed, as you stood in line at the check out. Maybe it was unfair that you couldn’t afford the luxury swaddlers, or that you couldn’t even produce enough milk to feed Jude. Maybe your parents were right, you had made a mistake. 
“Do you have any coupons?” The teenage cashier dead panned, a bored look in her eyes as she pulled you from your thoughts. 
“Oh, yeah- yes, I do.” You muttered, flipping through Eddie’s wallet for the coupons you’d clipped out of the newspaper this week, handing them over with a shame you were unsure of. 
The cashier punched in the number, the register dinging as the total rolled over at the top. “Twelve- seventy-two.” She muttered. 
You pulled the ten dollar bill out, heart sinking as you flipped through the contents, the folds and flaps of Eddie’s leather wallet. Where was the five you put in here last night? You know you gave it to him- 
“Ma’am,” The cashier huffed. “It’s twelve-seventy-two.” 
“I-I know.” Your chest tightened, lungs constricting. “I-I know I had more. I-I’m sorry, I just- I know I put it in here-” 
“-Ma’am, if you don’t have enough-” 
“-No, I have enough.” You snapped, startling the cashier. “I just- I know I put it in here, just-  Are you sure you added the coupons?”
“Yes,” The cashier snapped. You could feel your heart thundering in your chest, ears ringing, hands trembling. “Lady, I’ve got a line. If you don’t have the money, I’m going to have to ask you to leave and you can come back when you have enough.” 
“I can’t-” You pressed your eyes shut, your voice shaking. “H-How much without the formula?” 
“Just the diapers?” The cashier huffed. “Eight dollars and seven cents.” 
“Fine. I-I’ll just get those.” You muttered, eyes cutting to the line behind you. 
“Just the diapers?” The cashier asked, brow lifting with annoyance. 
“Yes.” You muttered, hands shaking when you reached for the ten dollar bill, eyes pricking with tears.  
“That will be eight dollars and-” 
“-Add the formula back on.” A voice behind you said softly. 
You jumped, turning towards the woman behind you. “I’ll pay for them.” She said softly, giving you a gentle nod. 
“No, no, I-I couldn’t ask you-” 
“-You didn’t.” The woman shook her head, sliding the twenty dollar bill over to the cashier. “Everyone needs a little help every now and then, and I’m happy to help.” 
Your lip trembled, jaw clenching to keep in your tears. “Thank you.” Your voice was broken, a barely there whisper that burned when it made its way out of your chest. 
“Don’t mention it.” The woman waved with a smile. “How old is your baby?” 
“T-Two months.” You croaked, sniffling back a wet sob. 
“A fun age.” She grinned. “Two months is great, but two years- ooh.” She rolled her eyes playfully. “That’s when they become little gremlins.” 
The cashier handed back the change, passing you the bagged formula and diapers. “Please, let me at least give you some money, an-and I can pay you back the rest by the end of the week, I swear.” You rambled, reaching for a pen off the counter, flipping your receipt over. “If you give me your name, an-and phone number, I’ll-” 
“-That’s not necessary, dear, I promise.” The woman shook her head at you lightly. “But if you don’t mind me asking, are you working?” 
Your chin ducked, spinning the pen around in your hands. “I-I waitress during the week at Benny’s. It’s been hard finding a job, because…” You looked down at the groceries, voice tightening in your throat. 
The woman nodded, reaching for the pen in your hands. “Well, if you’re interested in something else, I work at Vance Insurance and we’re looking for a receptionist.” She scribbled an address on the back of your receipt with her name- Sheila. “We just need someone young who knows how to work the phones, and can help us transfer calls, schedule appointments. Is that something you can do?” 
“I- Yes, I can do that.” You nodded furiously. 
“Wonderful.” Sheila grinned, passing the pen back to the cashier. “Stop in anytime this week and they’ll interview you. It’s a good starting place, good benefits- especially for a baby.” 
“Thank you,” Your eyes watered, brimming with tears that fell slowly down your cheeks. “I just- I can’t thank you enough, really, this is too kind-” 
“-Everyone needs help sometimes.” Sheila repeated gently. “I was you not too long ago, just needing some help. Like I said, I’m happy to help.” 
You nodded, clutching the receipt in your hands as you walked towards the sliding doors of the entrance. You held onto the receipt, buried it deep in your pocket until Monday morning. 
February 2nd, 1989
“Motherfucker,” Eddie hissed, ringed hand slapping down on the sticky table top. “A dollar?” 
“C’mon, ‘least it’s somethin’, right?” Darrel snickered from beside Eddie, bussing the booth next to him, emptied beer glasses splashing in the bin. “Could be nothin’ like that table before.” 
“Bunch of assholes,” Eddie grunted, shoving the dollar in his pocket. “Dude has a BMW and can’t tip more than a dollar?” 
“Those are the worst kinds, man.” Darrel shook his head. “Ones with the most are the stingiest.” 
“You’re tellin’ me.” Eddie scoffed, shoving the emptied bourbon glass in the bin. “That’s why I quit workin’ at Elroy’s.” 
“You quit at Elroy’s?” Darrel gaped. “When? I thought you just started that job, man, what happened?” 
“Psh, he’s a dick.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Had me doin’ all the dirty work, making nothing, while he’s making six figures and just sits there bitching at all of us nobodies.” Eddie shook his head. “I got sick of it. I’m not working for some asshole and making no money. Besides, it was cuttin’ into my time playing here.” 
Darrel nodded slowly, head shaking with a shrug. “Yeah, that’s… That’s tough, Ed.” He hummed. “What about the Mrs? She pissed at you for quitting another job.” 
“No,” Eddie snapped, far too quickly and too defensively for it to be true. Pissed was an understatement. You’d had a fight so big, so loud, the neighbors two trailers down had to come check on you. 
“This is the third job this year, Eddie!” You had roared, throwing your arms out. “How the fuck are we going to afford a house when you keep doing this shit?” 
“Will you relax? We’ll be fine, we’ve always been fine. I’ll find another-” 
“-We’ve always been fine because I have a job.” 
“Baby, when I make it big, you won’t have to work. I’ll take care of us- all of us, ok? I’m working on it. I’ve gotten a bunch of gigs in Indianapolis-” 
“-That don’t pay.” You sneered. “That you spend more money on gas to get to than you actually make-” 
“-You gotta spend a little money to make money, baby. That’s business!” Eddie huffed, throwing his hands up. It was the same fight, it always was. 
“Spend what money? My money?” You scoffed. “Taking money away from Jude so you can, what? Play pretend rockstar? Grow up, Eddie!” 
That had been three nights ago. You hadn’t talked to Eddie since then. He’d slept on the couch every night since the fight. 
“Look, I-I got another job lined up.” Eddie bristled, shaking his head, trying to drown out your cruel words still ringing in his head. “I’m playing for Oktoberfest at this bar in Indianapolis. There’s gonna be a shit ton of people there, and who knows? Could be a producer or someone there to sign us. The guy over there said they’re always coming in from Chicago, seeing what talent is around.” 
“Oh, it’s a gig?” Darrel looked at him, not nearly as excited as Eddie thought he would be. “Not a job.” 
“I mean, yeah, it’s both-” 
“-You’re gettin’ paid?” Darrel lifted a brow. 
“Yeah, it’s not- it’s not much. Like fifty bucks, but that’s not with tips, and they cover my tab for the night.” Eddie stuttered defensively. It sounded like a much better deal when the owner pitched it to him. 
Darrel nodded slowly, fingers tapping on the bin. “Well, good luck then.” He muttered, wiping down the table. “But, uh, if there’s not a producer or whatever, you know my cousin is still looking for help with his HVAC business. If you’re ever looking for anything.” 
Eddie’s chest burned with furious heat, scoffing as he pulled away, moving to the next table. Who the fuck does he think he is? Eddie fumed, jaw set tight, teeth grinding with fury. 
The rest of the night wasn’t better, despite the crowd. Eddie pocketed a solid thirty-seven dollars, and some change an asshole at the corner booth left. He cut it down thirty-six dollars before he made it home, stopping by the liquor store for a pack of Camels. 
Eddie was surprised the living room light was still on when he came in, quietly shutting the door in case you and Jude were asleep on the couch again. 
“Baby,” Eddie whispered, creeping into the room. He found you sitting, awake, on the couch, arms crossed over your chest, eyes red rimmed and glassy. 
“Oh, I thought you were asleep.” Eddie muttered, voice still hushed as he shook off his jacket, tossing it over the back of the couch. 
Your lips pursed, arms still tight across your chest. “Jude is with Wayne tonight.” You said, though your voice didn’t carry the usual purr it did when you’d told him that before. Tonight, it was filled with icy malice. 
“Oh, yeah?” Eddie grinned, leaning over the couch towards you, arms wrapping around your frame, face pressing into your neck. “Good. I’ve had the worst fuckin’ day, and I’ve missed you. Missed sleepin’ in the bed with you, baby.” His lips tugged at your ear lobe, teeth grazing your skin. 
“Stop, we’re not…” You huffed, pushing him off you gently, standing from the couch. “We need to talk, Eddie.” 
Eddie’s heart dropped, sinking deep in the pit of his stomach. “Talk? About what?” His shoulders slumped, gripping the back of the couch with an exhale of exhaustion. “Baby, you know I didn’t mean it when I said that. I was just pissed, and… C’mon, you know I’d never really mean tha-” 
“-I’m pregnant.” Your words echoed through the small living room of the trailer, a silence settling around the two of you after that. 
Eddie’s mouth opened then closed, words strangled in his throat. “Pregnant?” Suddenly he was eighteen again, heart stilled in his chest, ears ringing with what he was sure was delusion. 
“What- I mean, how- No, I-I know how, I just…” Eddie swallowed around the thick lump in his throat, head spinning with the news. “That’s-That’s great.” 
Your choked sob startled him, left him flinching as your hand moved to your mouth, muffling your cries. “Hey, hey, what’s- Baby, don’t cry.” Eddie soothed, his voice calmer now than it was four years ago. 
Your wet cheeks pressed into his shirt, the overwhelming scent of stale cigarettes making you retch and gag. He should have known you were pregnant a week ago, when he’d slipped in the bed beside you after a night shift at The Hideout and you had gagged, shoved him out of the bed and told him to shower. “I can smell smoke in your hair, Ed. It’s giving me a headache.” 
He let you go, back away from him with a cry that turned into a gag that faded into a cough then back to a sob. “What’s wrong?” Eddie hesitated, his hands reaching out to you then back to his sides, unsure of what to do. “Why-Why are you crying? Are you not- I mean, hey, at least we’re married this time and… and adults.” 
He thought the little joke he made might calm you down, soothe you a little, not send you into another wave of sobs. Face crumbling, shoulders shaking with tears. “What- Why are you crying?” Eddie’s brows furrowed, reaching out for you. “Are you- Are you not happy?” 
“No,” You spat, sniffing back a wet cry. “I mean, yes but…” Your teary eyes met his, lip shaking with a cry you tried to swallow. “I-I don’t think it’s the ri-right time.” 
Eddie frowned. “Well, it’s a little late for that, sweetheart.” His hand rubbed over your arm soothingly. “What’s the matter, hm? What’s got you upset? This should be a good thing.” 
“Should be,” You spat with a wet sob. “Eddie, we barely make it as it is, and…and we’re never going to be able to afford two kids when you won’t stay at a job.” Your breath hitched, the harsh truth you’d kept in for months finally tumbling out, laying on him thickly in the room. 
Eddie’s lips pursed, tightened in a straight line. “I have a job.” 
“The Hideout is not a job.” You countered. “Not one that can support two kids, Eddie, be serious.” 
“I am being serious.” Eddie crossed his arms defensively. “And it’s not my main job, anyways, you know that.” You fought back an eye roll, the tears flooding your vision instead. 
“Baby, I know it doesn’t pay much right now, but all I need is one chance, ok? One time, just someone out there hearing me play, and-and then everything will change. We’ll be set for life. More than set.” Eddie gushed, reaching out to hold you. 
His eyes were wide, wild with the same excitement they were years ago, when he’d first told you his dream of being a rockstar. But that was before- before Jude, before you’d gotten married, before reality hit you in the face and knocked you on your feet. Before you’d become bitter with the harsh realization that dreams were for the lucky few, and that you weren’t. 
“I can’t…” You pressed a hand to your mouth, taking a deep breath you hoped would calm your nerves, settle your stomach. “Eddie, I- we don’t have time for one day. We have a family right now.” Your tear stained eyes met his. 
“I can’t afford to live off a dream that may happen.” Your lips pressed together, swallowing back a cry. 
Eddie’s face fell, and you could practically see his heart shattering. “What-What are you saying?” 
“That you need to grow up.” Your tone clipped, bitter and cold in the echo of the room. “You have a kid- two, now, an-and it’s not fair to them that they suffer because you want to chase down a dream that might happen.” 
Eddie’s heart sunk, burning with a soul crushing ache he hadn’t felt in years. “What? You think I can’t make it? That-That I’m not good enough?” 
Your eyes closed, taking in a deep, calming breath to steady yourself. “I never said that.” You looked at him. “Maybe if… if things would have been different, you could go out every night an-and play wherever and do whatever, but they’re not. We have Jude and another on the way, and…” 
There was a pause, neither one of you sure how to fill it, what to say. You swallowed the growing lump in your throat, willing your tears down. “You have to choose, Eddie.” Your voice shook gently, uncertainty filling each syllable. “If you want to go and make it big, fine, but I am not going to keep bankrolling your trips. Either get a job and grow up and be a father, or go be a rockstar.” 
“That’s so fucked.” Eddie scoffed. “You know that? That is so fucked, and-and manipulative and- You know I love you and Jude, and I’d do anything-” 
“-Then go get a job.” You snapped. “Go get a job and grow up, Eddie. Grow up and be an adult. Stop quitting every five seconds because something is mildly uncomfortable. Do you think I’m happy all the time at my job? No, but I stay because I have to, for Jude and for you.” 
Eddie swallowed back the burn of tears that built in the back of his throat, embarrassment maybe anger spilling hot out of his chest. “It’s time to grow up, Eddie.” Your eyes couldn’t meet his as you walked towards the door. “The choice is yours.” 
Eddie’s fists balled when you shut the bedroom door, stalking towards the front door, slamming it so hard behind him the trailer shook. He fished for his keys, yanking the van door open. You heard the gravel flying, the squeal of the tires following when he tore out of the drive. You squeezed your eyes together, letting out a pathetic sob in the still and silent room. 
Hours later, long after you’d cried yourself to sleep, you felt the bed dip. You smelled the smoke before you felt him, sliding next to you under the sheets, Eddie’s hands finding your waist. 
“I called Darrel.” Eddie said into the quiet darkness of the room, his voice hoarse with emotion. “His cousin said I could start Monday.” 
You turned, blinking with burning eyes, still raw from tears. “Really?” You croaked. 
Eddie swallowed before he nodded, and you pretended not to notice the way his lip shook. “You’re right. I…I need to grow up and be a man- be a better husband and father to Jude and the baby.” His voice was tight. 
Your words rang through Eddie’s head every day he got up, dragging himself out of bed and to work. What started as a motivating mantra, something he’d chant in his mind to get him through the tiresome shifts slowly became tainted, fading into a bitter, mocking reminder. Every time he’d pass by The Hideout, seeing the next gaggle of wannabe rockers on stage. Every time the radio would play a new band, someone his age who had gotten lucky, been at the right place at the right time and got discovered. He’d stew over it, fuming about how that could have been him. Resentment building that he tried to swallow down, the painful reminder of what could have been.
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I DID NOT JUST HEAR HAYDEN!ANAKIN'S VOICE IN THIS! NO FUCKING WAY!
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ruvviks · 4 months
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Vitali kept cutting and cutting and cutting, tears dripping down onto his tank top and into the sink. He accidentally scraped one of the scissor blades past his finger- and his tears rapidly mixed with a few drops of deep red blood. He loved his hair. He had always done so- but his mother too. She had been obsessed with it, and when he had decided to bleach it she had been livid. But for some reason she had still allowed him to do it as many times as he wanted, as if she believed it would at least stop him from cutting it short, even after he had come out as transgender. And it had worked, somehow. He had never even dared to think about picking up a pair of scissors. Vitali let a single scream leave his lips as he threw the scissors down into the sink, gripping the edge tightly again as he nearly lost his balance. He was out of breath; shaky, shallow inhales providing him with just enough oxygen to not pass out, and he slowly looked back up at his reflection. And in that split second of realization, he regretted it. All of it. A sudden clarity washed over him and his sobs faltered, deafening silence washing over the bathroom as he carefully brushed his now neck-length hair out of his face. It was uneven; some strands barely even reached his chin. He looked different, now. Could barely recognize himself. — From Chapter 12: The Mother; read the full fic here
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evilkitten3 · 1 year
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people on the fanon wiki will just straight up announce that they haven't actually watched the show huh
#atla#azulaposting#''she wanted to steal the throne from him'' girl WHEN#when he got banished? which she had nothing to do with?#when she actively chose to give up the role of crown prince(ss) by bringing him back?#when he decided WITH NO INVOLVEMENT ON HER PART to commit treason and be a good guy?#he's the one who plotted to steal the throne from HER#y'know that whole ''let's go beat the shit outta my sister'' thing?#like azula didn't manipulate him into giving the throne to her he literally gave it up when he COMMITTED TREASON#AND ANNOUNCED THAT HE WAS COMMITTING TREASON TO HIS FATHER'S FACE#you think he wasn't disowned as fuck? he threw LIGHTNING (back) at the fire lord!#azula had literally nothing to do with anything concerning zuko's place in line for the throne except for when she brought him back#and then again when he decided he was going to be fire lord despite DEFINITELY no longer being eligible (bc. y'know. TREASON)#at no point did azula ever even imply she wanted to take the throne from zuko#she EXPECTED it would be hers bc HE LITERALLY WAS NOT THERE#first he got banished and then he fucked off of his own free will#neither time had anything to do with anything azula did#hell azula is the only living member of the royal family we meet in the series outside of flashbacks who DIDN'T conspire for the throne#iroh managed to conspire for the throne despite debatably having the most right to it out of everyone#granted it was on zuko's behalf but STILL#hell even in the character assassinations i mean the comics no i don't she's not conspiring for the throne#she's trying to push zuko back towards what she thinks is the ''right'' path#but she's not trying to take it for herself#the only time azula even seems to want the throne is when her dad tells her it's hers now and even then she'd clearly rather he keep it#bc that'd mean he'd be sticking around and she was kinda sick of getting abandoned by then#azula: *getting crowned as per the previous fire lord's orders*#and no the argument that ozai wasn't a legitimate fire lord is entirely invalidated by how unwilling iroh was to do shit about fuck#which ended up proving ozai right come to think of it#he WAS a better fire lord than iroh. bc he. y'know. actually did stuff#gah
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loverboydotcom · 7 months
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at this point im just speeding through chapter one of lover boy like im trying to get through the perfume department
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lvicevlk · 10 months
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MLC questions because my memory is failing me
A) Does anyone know if there was ever an in story reason given for why Di Feisheng doesn't kill women?
B) I vaguely recall seeing/hearing that Di Feisheng was also poisoned in the battle 10 years back but I can't recall where or when I did, can anyone point me in that direction?
C) I cannot for the life of me remember if we were given any information at all about the third of the Three Kings. Did I just completely blank on this or did they really give us nothing?
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eddie4bat-president · 8 months
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Saw a drawing of Steve and now I'm suddenly thinking about artist Eddie who designed the Hellfire shirts and Corroded Coffin fliers and who draws the villains of his D&D campaigns to slap onto his DM screen for visual aid and doodles in class and-
And i'm thinking about Steve, in a relationship with Nancy, trying to ignore that things are rocky but knowing it all the same. He finds a notebook left behind in school and he only takes it because he forgot his own. He plans to use it for the day and then figure out whose it is and get it back to them in exchange, that's probably more than fair, right? And the person is really gonna want this back - it looks like half their life is contained in this thing; there is... a shit ton of loose paper stuffed between the pages and notes on all kinds of subjects and drawings and.... he doesn't even know what that is. Who is Vecna and what the hell is a... lich?
Anyway as he leafs through it he finds that some of the drawings are... actually really good. Like, absurdly good for being in a lined notebook that looks like it has taken a trip into a dumpster and picked up some debris on the way out.
Like! Those hands! Steve has no artistic bone in his body but he's heard people whine about drawing hands and - he looks at the hand not holding the book and back again - yeah, that's exactly what hands look like! And here - a few pages further (it's one of the most empty pages of the whole thing, mostly because this one seems to have started as a drawing and not as a page of notes that turned into a drawing) there are only a few lines on the page but it's still very clearly the back of someone's neck, the collar, one shoulder.... Then there's another one that is almost all lines, but they were all carefully placed to give the effect of perfectly windswept hair. Then there's one that he actually can't make sense of at first (he almost pages past it because it is just a few lines and dots taking up a quarter of a page of very annoyed... history notes? Maybe English.) It's just a jawline with some moles but... only the day before he had cut himself shaving a finger's width underneath those exact moles. And that's when it clicks. He goes back to the hair... yeah that- that could be him too. Maybe. He flips back to that one very detailed drawing of hands and... putting down the book he tries to get his hands into the same position - the angle is off but. Yeah. That's why they looked so perfectly...! Uhhhh... Handsy! Because they're his fucking hands!
Anyway Steve realizes that about a third of the drawings are or could be him. He realizes that he actually can't go through with giving it back because - what would he even say? "Hey found your notebook, nice shrine to me?" Yeah no. But he's... also reluctant to take it to the Lost and Found. There's something in the handwriting.... He has a feeling that it might not be a girl secretly drawing him. What if someone else connects the dots? What if they confront the mystery artist about it? Flashbacks to his fight with Jonathan, the line he crossed and immediately regretted. He doesn't want to be the cause for someone else getting called that. And unrelated to that, things with Nancy aren't great right now and it's... it's just nice to think someone is paying attention, alright?
Then Halloween happens a few days after. The Break-up(?), the demodogs, Billy and the tunnels- and afterwards it's nice to have the notebook to distract him from the pain. The mundane mystery of a schoolmate maybe having a crush on him. He might not even have to confront them - he can just figure out a way to slip it into their locker; it looks like at least half their schoolwork is crammed into this thing, no matter how half-heartedly done. They definitely want this back.
Man, I wish I could actually write this thing. Damn. Maybe I could even do a scene where Steve tries to Sherlock Holmes his way to Mystery Artist and confronts a (hatefully seething) Robin, because she sits behind him in that one class, only to find his own Watson in her instead. But alas. It cannot be.
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vm-haunts · 15 days
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Silly prompt idea for dead on main (that's the ship name for Danny and Jason, right?):
Justice league is hosting a charity Halloween party, so they have people in the league, and associates of league members fill out surveys on things to include and what scary things might get added to the haunted house portion. One of the questions is a generic "what is something that scares you?" Some answers are normal things you would expect from league members, like kryptonite or a particularly unnerving villain
Until you get to the bat family. Everyone other than Batman and Red Hood has put "Red Hood's boyfriend" and when asked why the responses are along the lines of
"he can CONSISTENTLY sneak up on me" -Damian and Cassandra
"he can mess up my tech with just a slip in his control of his powers" -Tim
"everyone else was doing it, so I thought it was a bit" -Dick, Duke, and Barbara
Oh that's gonna make Danny's day when he found out. Y'all think I'm spooky?! 🤯 I'm so flattered! Death goal of a ghost tbh, become the worst fear of the bats (that they'll publicly admit).
Then Batman and Red Hood put down 'Jack', and people are like, who's this a rogue? A new supervillain? While both of them are having in-laws flashbacks and shuddering, saying 'someone you don't wanna meet', and people are Concerned™
Also it could go two ways when people finally met Danny. Either they met him as Phantom and, oh he's the sweetest boy ever what do you mean the bats fears him? Or they met Danny Fenton and oh gods that boy sure is hitting every uncanny valley there is, no wonder.
Also also Danny's fear would definitely be 'siblings', and the bat clan all nods along like no explanation needed valid fear.
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pomefioredove · 16 days
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Hiii!! Could you possibly do headcanons of overblot boys + adeuce with a s/o who likes to collect figures or like manga or something along those lines? Also I love your writing you’re awesome sauce. feel free to delete or ignore if you don’t wanna do it!! I understand :3
<3<3 ofc
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ collector! reader
type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, ace, deuce, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu
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looking at... [vaguely gestures to Heartslabyul] all that, I can't imagine Riddle has any grounds to complain about knick-knacks or clutter. he literally lives in a minimalist's worst nightmare. he also gives the impression of a collector of odd trinkets. like stamps or antique tea cups. grandma vibes. probably gets you a nice display cabinet for your things
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Ace is a sixteen year old boy who balls and thinks of himself as a lady's man. and, I mean, he loves you, but you can tell what he's about to say before he even opens his mouth. weeeeeeb... then he saves up all year just to gift you that one ridiculously priced figure for your birthday. like I said, he loves you, he just has a very... defensive temperament
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
I feel like Deuce is a really good listener (or, at least, he knows how to be quiet when you're talking, unlike a certain other Heartslabyul first year), even if he doesn't quite get it. besides maybe Jack, he's the most willing to watch your favorite shows with you, read your mangas together, hear about each individual trinket you own... even if he still doesn't understand. it makes you happy <3
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Leona is more of a meh guy. "what do you want, a cookie?" is probably in his top ten favorite expressions. things to say when he doesn't care about something. and. listen. he cares about you, he does, but he's not really the type to pretend. he'll let you talk about your collection, though. as long as you're happy with him, you won't seek out Idia and become completely intolerable (his words, not mine!)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Azul is having flashbacks to all the junk that Jade and Floyd hoard. but, hey: at least your collection isn't of broken toasters or wild mushrooms. he can respect the pride you take in your hobbies, and the care you... wait, how much does all this cost?
...yeah. okay, he understands. definitely not toasters or mushrooms. your room is practically a museum
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
[Jamil voice] "once you're done playing with your toys will you come help me clean up the lounge"
no, he doesn't get it. you haven't said how much all of this costs because you think he might have a heart attack if he saw the numbers, and you keep your belongings tidy enough for him not to stress. so he doesn't complain
(and also because he knows they mean a great deal to you)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
[Vil voice] "once you're done playing with your toys will you clean up the lounge" lol
he's not exactly jumping for joy when you spend all your allowance on plastic merchandise and picture books. I mean, he's already had to lend you his winter coat, and there was that week you had to stay at Pomefiore because the water at Ramshackle was out... but making purchases seems to make you happy, so he begrudgingly accepts it
there are worse hobbies to have, after all. [side-eyeing Rook]
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
I don't even want to write Idia's part. I'm afraid he'll materialize in my room and start fangirling over this (rip idia shroud you would have loved x readers)
but seriously, he's been recommending you his favorite mangas and animes and games. he probably buys you authentic figures that are thousands of thaumarks on a whim 'cause you kinda like the character. very sweet. very thoughtful. when should I book your wedding. etc
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
you'd think that Malleus would be astonished? WRONG this guy lives with Lilia "hip with the kids" Vanrouge. who is not only a hoarder, but someone who most certainly has a shelf of manga and figures from his favorite games somewhere in the cavernous hole he calls a room. Malleus has probably gotten him one for his birthday (after the 5 hours it took for him to figure out how to buy things online). so like. it's no big deal to him. if you ever mention wanting new manga or figures or... anything... he will give you twice the amount of thaumarks necessary. he's like that
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starlightxsvt · 1 year
Text
Sentinel's Serenade | c.sc
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pairing ➳ bodyguard!Scoups x heiress!reader
genre ➳ drama, angst, romance, smut.
word count ➳ 29.5k (i'm sorry)
warnings ➳ car crash, ptsd, flashbacks of war, panic attack, murder, violence, guns, blood, death, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, female oral, arguments, coups is an a-hole but he has reasons, he was also in the military, Jun is a bad guy here(im sorry), jihoon blesses us with his special appearance.
synopsis ➳ As you start digging up an accident that has been brushed under the rug, you make an enemy who is out to get you no matter what. Amidst all the chaos you develop feelings for your bodyguard who has built walls of steel around him.
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"This is your new bodyguard, Seungcheol." 
Your head tilts upward, as you scan the man standing in front of you with careful eyes. He's tall and broad; exactly how you'd imagine a bodyguard to be, along with an emptiness in his eyes, so cold and robotic that would only be achievable after being through some heavy shit, you assume. Your father continues listing off his certifications and qualities but your brain doesn't capture much after hearing that he can speak sign language and is an ex navy SEAL; too busy getting distracted with his handsome features and dissecting him as much as you can just from looking.
The man isn't handsome in the typical sense, definitely not the handsome you're used to seeing in magazine covers and charity galas. No, he's ruggedly handsome, shielding himself with a tough exterior, his thick brows knotted in a frown and his full, red lips set in a grim line, blond hair brushed back neatly. 
With the way he looks in that expensive suit hugging his body, he could pass as a business tycoon but his aura is completely different; alert, strict, impenetrable.
His hand reaches out for yours to meet in a handshake after your father is done introducing him. You watch his extended hand for a while, observing little scratches and cuts that seem to still be healing on his knuckles before meeting his hand. As expected, his palms are calloused but cool. His grip is firm, just like the look in his dark eyes and for some unknown reason tingles shoot down your spine.
"Choi Seungcheol, ma'am." His voice has a deep timbre to it. It'd be perfect for audiobooks, you muse idly.  "He is to be with you whenever you are going outside till the foreseeable future." Your father states. There isn't much room for arguments here and you aren't too bothered having a shadow because this isn't the first time. 
You had a personal bodyguard six months ago and the man sustained a serious hip injury due to...circumstances involving you. Now that you are back and ready to face the world, you know that keeping a personal bodyguard is a wise decision, even if your father may have assigned him with ulterior motives. 
It's okay, the games are just beginning and you are playing for the long haul.
"Met your new guard on the way. Guy's a robot." Chan says as he strolls into the library with his hands in his pockets. You assume he's talking about Seungcheol, who is currently stationed outside the library room even though you told him to take a break.
A copy of Jane Eyre sits open on your lap as you look up to meet Chan's eyes. Offering him a small smile, you motion him to sit next to you. Your younger brother had been out of the country due to business for the past few weeks so it has been a while since you last saw him.
"So you are really going back to work?" He asks, a soft, concerning note to his voice as he sits down next to you on the divan. You sigh and give him an exasperated look. 
"I'm more than ready. Sitting idle hasn't done me much good." You sign. 
His eyes watch the movements of your hands before he murmurs, "It will be tough, you know... without your... voice. I don't want you to get into any trouble, especially after everything."
"I'll manage." You sign. You will. 
It has been six long months since the accident. Six months since you lost your mother. Six months since you have last uttered a word. Six months since you have been at work.
Six months since your life has completely been turned upside down. 
You have been thrown entirely off track, the reigns of your horse being snatched away by a dark force plotting far worse things.  But you will uncover them. No matter how long or what it takes. 
"Dad thinks you're not ready yet," Chan comments, breaking your train of thought. 
You huff out an annoyed breath. 
"I don't really care what he thinks you know," you sign and your brother snorts, looking at you with a fond, amused expression. "It will be hard." He says absent-mindedly. "To adjust back to everything."
You nod because you know it will be. You have already heard the board members express their dissatisfaction over you returning as the CEO. Lee publishing has been in its prime since last year and they're afraid it's gonna lose its position with a mute CEO. Funny how they forget you are the one who brought it to where it is today. Lee Publishings, your family's publishing company was handed over to you by your  grandfather. He started it from scratch and it became the first successful family business before he decided to hand it over to you when you became twenty. 
Your bond with your grandfather was always special, maybe because you both shared the same love for books and sense of humour. You grew up watching him read and collect books and naturally you picked up on that habit. As you grew up you watched him work closely, helping him wherever you could with the company which led him to hand it over to you. 
Not your father, your brother or any of your cousins but you.
He was lucky enough to watch you take on the role and make the company flourish for all three months before he passed away peacefully one night in his sleep. 
The feud began after that as your uncle, Jin Lee and your father started expressing their concerns, saying that you wouldn't be able to rule over the company well now that your grandfather wasn't here to guide you. While your uncle wanted the publishing house for himself and his useless son, Jun, your father wanted to hand the company over to Chan, believing that your brother would be a better president, and offering you the role of the vice president instead. It came to you without any surprise because your brother was always your father's favourite child.
You, however, had stood your ground and promptly refused, challenging them to try and take it from you. Thankfully, your brother was on your side, saying that it rightfully belonged to you and you were more than eligible to rule over it. Chan's disinterest may have backed off your father temporarily, you can tell, but your uncle is still desperate, now more than ever.
"You are going to move back to your place soon as well," Chan complains with a pout, breaking your train of thought. Giving him a sad smile you open your arms, inviting him for a hug which he gladly accepts. After one week of staying at the hospital and your mother's burial, you decided that you would stay at the mansion you grew up in, essentially your father's house, instead of your own apartment in the city, for the foreseeable future. This mansion held a lot of memories for you, especially with your mother. Breakfast in the garden, late night talks in the huge library and sipping on tea while watching the sunset together through the large window in the west wing.
You could never imagine a life without your mother yet here you are, living one. But it is time you slowly start going back to where you belong.
"It will be lonely here without you…and mom," Chan whispers.
You can only blink back your tears and hug him tighter.
Just on your fifth day back, you realise that things are not going to be anywhere near easy for you, not that you expected, but still.
The moment you get to work on Wednesday morning, there is a commotion outside the main entrance of the building which leads your driver to drop you and Seungcheol at the underground entrance. You are greeted by the bleak face of your secretary as you walk to your office, who announces that the vice president is there to see you. Once you enter your office, you indeed find vice president Jun, your dear cousin, sitting on your seat with the face of a cat who ate the canary.
Seungcheol, who is always trailing behind you like a shadow, moves— to drag him out of your seat no doubt, but you raise your hand as a gesture to tell him to stop.
"Good morning, Miss Lee. Though it doesn't look like a good morning for you," He grins, standing up and rounding the desk lazily while tilting his chin at the coffee table where the morning paper is lying. You pick it up and in bold letters on the front page, the headline greets you with: "President of Lee Publishings Accused of Employee Mistreatment."
It goes on and on about some bullshit of how you have been treating employees badly and holding their salary because you have apparently returned with a nasty temper as you can't speak anymore. You can't help but scoff, because the reality is far, far from what the paper says. 
Ever since you've been back at work, all you've ever done is stay inside your office and go through all the pending documents and close deals that were hanging. Your only human contact has been your secretary Hansol and your bodyguard, both of whom have more similarities to a wall than a human. Your previously bubbly secretary has turned awkward now, probably because you have lost your voice and holding a conversation with you proves to be hard. Seungcheol, on the other hand, is like a robot who stands by your door all day and only answers your questions as briefly as possible, most of the time with a yes or no.
Your hands form fists at your sides as you glare at Jun, who stands there, pridefully evil, watching you with a satisfied grin on his face. "Things are looking rather bleak for you," He tuts in mock sympathy as he strolls towards you, hands in his pockets. As he comes to stand right next to you, his hand reaches out for your shoulder to pat you but Seungcheol grabs his wrist and twists it, making him shriek in pain. 
"Fuck! Let go, you asshole!"
"You do not have permission to touch her," Seungcheol calmly states, still not letting go. You sigh and sign Seungcheol to kick him out, which he does immediately while your cousin screams in protest as you walk to your desk and sit down, rubbing your temples in frustration.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Seungcheol asks after closing the door behind him.
You watch him for a while, your mind running a mile a minute as you think of a thousand ways of payback. But then you remind yourself that you have to approach this calmly.  So you force a smile and sign. 
"Send my secretary in. —
A couple of days later, you are not pleasantly surprised to see your father waiting to greet you at the front of the house when you return from work.
Just as Seungcheol opens the car door for you to get out, your father marches towards you.
"What did you do, girl? I told you to stay put! Your uncle Jin is here to see you!" His tone is not friendly. In fact, you pick up heavy disappointment, which you expected. This was bound to happen after you fired your cousin Jun from his position today. 
You smile calmly at him before turning to Seungcheol and signalling to him that he is relieved of his duties. He looks at you warily and you have a feeling he wants to say no but he ultimately just nods and takes his leave, driving away the car to park.
"He's waiting for you in the backyard." Your father announces. As you start walking away he yells, "You better fix what you have done today! The company won't last if you keep on making hasty decisions like these!"
Deciding to ignore him you walk to the backyard with unfaltering steps and find your uncle standing there with arms crossed, feet tapping furiously. You approach him with a smile, not a friendly one but the subtle smile of challenge as he takes furious steps towards you when he sees you coming.
"You! What have you done, _____? You fired my son from his position!" He hollers, marching to stand in front of you, fury blazing vividly in his eyes. 
Silently, you hold eye contact with him.
"You think you can do as you please after you get into an accident and we'll just let you? Who do you think you are to fire my son?"
You smirk before producing your notepad from your bag and start scribbling.
"I'm the president of the company and based on our investigation your son was found guilty of spreading fake news about me mistreating my employees. The reporter who got paid to write it confessed himself."
You hold out the notepad for him to read.
"How dare you believe a lowly reporter over my son? Over your own cousin?" Your uncle is livid. "If you keep behaving like this then I'll retract all my assets shared with your father. You know I can take over the Lee Enterprises anytime if I want."
You roll your eyes. Yeah, do whatever you want.
You start writing down. "If you have nothing productive to say I suggest you leave now and have a chat with your precious son. I have had a long day."
As soon as he reads the words written on the paper he bats the notebook away from your hand, making you gasp. The look in his eyes is akin to a madman's as he takes a threatening step towards you and leans in to whisper in your ear. 
"If you don't want to end up like your mother I suggest you start behaving, ______." He sneers.
Your whole body freezes up like a block of ice as your breath catches in your lungs. Your uncle's eyes are cruel, threating, filled with a layer of secrets that you're desperate to uncover as he takes a step back. The look of panic on your face brings satisfaction to him as watches you for a few moments, letting his words sink in and challenging you to do something about it before he smirks and walks out of the backyard.
Your legs, which have been shaky until now finally give up and you fall on the perfectly trimmed grass, your breaths coming out in the form of pants. 
The horrible realisation sinks into you. 
Your suspicions were true. 
His words just confirmed that which means you need to up your game. Immediately.
You're surprised at how quickly, how easily you think of one person when you need someone to help you. 
Hands shaky, you type a message to Seungcheol.
— There's something different about Seungcheol the moment he arrives at your front gate in his BMW. As you watch him get out of the car and jog towards you, you realise it's his fit; he's not wearing his typical two piece suit. 
No, he's dressed in a fitted white polo and black slacks, the polo so tight that you can see the bulging outline of his chest and arms. Despite the negative thoughts brewing in your head you get distracted for a second as you ogle him unashamedly and take longer than you should to respond to his question. "Are you alright, ma'am? I wasn't expecting you to call so late."
You roll your eyes. It's only like eight in the evening. Though you can see why it was unexpected for him because he is relieved from duty as you get off work in the evening. Not replying to him, you tilt your head towards his car, indicating to him to open the passenger side door. He looks doubtful for a second before following your instructions.
"Where would you like me to take you?" Seungcheol asks once you're both inside the car and he has started the engine. You sigh and sign, "Somewhere far and quiet."
His thick brows knot into a frown as he thinks for a few seconds before simply nodding. Then, surprising you, he reaches over and pulls your seatbelt across your chest, which you just realised you forgot to put on. His being so close lets you get a really good sniff of his cologne and once again you get heavily distracted as you start wondering what he'd do if you leaned into his neck and wrapped your arms around him.
Where are these thoughts coming from? 
You have no idea. This is not the first time you've had them, though.
It is like this new disease you have caught. Your mind goes haywire whenever you look at Seungcheol for a second too long. The first time it happened was right after the rumour of employee mistreatment broke out and you were leaving from work. Even though you took the back exit through the underground parking, the press mobbed you, throwing a string of questions at you while their cameras kept flashing repeatedly.
Seungcheol, of course, managed everything very efficiently and got you away safely. The way his hand squeezed your shoulder, his face hovering near yours while he asked if you were okay was a feeling that has managed to stay with you very vividly even now. You were a bit spaced out but not for the reasons he was thinking; it was just that he looked too attractive and his touch felt too comforting, even though he was merely doing his job.
You are a tiny bit ashamed to admit that he has made your heart flutter since then, with every little thing he did. 
You don't get to dwell on your day dreams for too long because he's leaning back in his seat and pressing the accelerator, making you jerk softly.
A quiet thirty minutes of drive later you discover that Seungcheol has taken you to the beach right on the outskirts of the city. It isn't something you were expecting but you realise it is something you definitely need. 
As he parks the car on a small cliff overlooking the entire beach, you hear the soothing sounds of the wave crashing into the shore clearly. 
And it brings back vague memories of your childhood, when your mother took you to this beach because she loved the air here so much. As if in a trance, you get out of the car and stand by the cliff, letting the cool sea breeze wash over you as the salty smell in the air invades your nose. Your bodyguard stands by you silently for a while and without looking, you can tell that his eyes are on you, watching you carefully.
Sometime later, he breaks the peaceful silence, "Would like to eat something? There are a few food trucks nearby." He moves his head to motion at the food trucks parked far away, their lights blinking. Shaking your head no, you fill your lungs with the cool night air by taking one more deep breath before moving to the back of the car and leaning against the trunk. Seungcheol follows you as you pat the space next to you for him to come and stand. 
He does so and you let out a heavy breath before signing. "I need you to do something for me. Something that has to remain a secret."
Seungcheol raises his brows slightly before frowning. He doesn't reply immediately and you stand upright, holding eye contact with him. "It is very important to me, Seungcheol. I need to know if I can trust you to keep it a secret from everyone," you sign.
"Okay, ma'am." He finally responds. 
"Even from my father," you sign. "I know you're working for him but for this task, I will pay you separately so you will only answer to me about this, okay?"
"Okay ma'am."
"Good." You huff out a breath. "You are from a prominent security company, right? I need you to look into a man for me. Jin Lee."
"Your uncle?" He looks bewildered. "Yes. I need his whereabouts on 23rd March of this year. And I need to know who he contacted before this accident. Any call or bank transfer that seems remotely out of place, you look into it for me, okay?" He pauses for a breath before replying. "Okay, ma'am."
"Just call me ____, Seungcheol."
— On the weekend, you have lunch with Chan in the garden of the mansion, the place where you two had lunch with your mother, as he eagerly asks you about how you have been doing and assures you that he is here if you need anything. After lunch, you see him off for a meeting before aimlessly strolling through the hallways of your house by yourself.
The cleanup at your place has been completed so you are planning on moving back tomorrow and you realise it will be a while before you come back here. Through your walk, you come across a painting hanging on the large hallway towards your father's office that makes you stop to stare. 
It is a picture of your mother with you and Chan, taken when you were about twelve years old. It is your favourite picture in the entire house, maybe because you have a memory attached to it or maybe because it's simply magnificent, the three of your smiles shining so brightly.
It was a gift from your grandfather to your mother on her thirty seventh birthday and she had it hung here, right in front of a large set of windows that overlooks the garden. The afternoon sun falls right on the picture, casting it in an ethereal glow and it is almost like your mom is here, cheering you on with her beautiful smile.
With a soft sigh and tears withheld, you say goodbye to the picture and walk away. You are aiming to go straight to your room but the loud voices coming from your father's office makes you stop.
You realise the door is just slightly opened and you walk over to shut it but stop in your tracks when you hear your uncle's voice.
"You better get your daughter under control or it will not be good for you!" He is shouting.
"Are you threatening me?"
"I am warning you, brother."
"Jin, please, just let her be for a while. She has lost her voice. I am sure she will not be able to perform like before. Then you and the board can fire her."
You are somewhat hurt by your father's words but once again, they do not come to you as a surprise. "Exactly! Why should I let the company go to waste because of her poor performance? You tell her to fuck off or I will remove her myself!"
"Jin, please. You already got rid of Aileen. You do not have to go any further.
Your world has come to a stop.
You forget to breath, as you simply stand there, stunned, convinced that you heard wrong.
You had to have heard wrong.
"I got rid of her and I'll get rid of you too, if you don't listen to me! Don't forget I own the shares of the family hotel just as much as you do. It will not be a challenge to turn the board of directors against you. Imagine what will happen after that? Your most lucrative business will be completely mine and your dear son will become penniless."
There is no reply from your father. Or maybe there is but you do not hear it.
There is a deafening ring in yours ears as you muffle your sobs by clutching your mouth tightly and making a beeline for your room.
You cannot believe this. You absolutely can not. It is something you could not have imagined even in your wildest nightmare. Your father knows your uncle killed your mom, yet he is staying silent. Why? Why!
Granted, your parents were never happily married and growing up you have heard that your father has mistresses. It never bothered your mother because their marriage was only a business agreement in the very first place and she had all her attention focused on you and Chan. But to think that he is letting her killer walk free is unbelievable.
After all he lived with her, his wife, the mother of his children for so many goddamn years!
By the time you have entered your room, you are full on crying, ugly and loud. Tears are blurring your vision as you flail around the room, helplessly, aimlessly, devastatedly. 
And before you know it, you are throwing the thousand dollar porcelain vase by your bedside to the ground.
The piece shatters into bits and the sound oddly satisfies you, prompting you to throw another one. And for the next few minutes you throw anything you can find in your room, not caring how valuable they are, not caring that a shard of glass has ripped the skin below your left thumb, making you bleed.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck you! Fuck all of you!" You yell at the top of your lungs, not caring to keep up the facade anymore.
Once you have run out of energy, you stop to look at the mess you made, glad that the messy room and the pain from the cut on your hand makes your mind go blank for a while.
But you do not miss the small, almost inaudible creak of the door to your room. Your head whips into the direction to see none other than Seungcheol, standing right out front, his eyes wide and his lips parted in a small gasp of surprise. 
You forget to breathe as you realise he might have been standing there for a while and he witnessed everything. 
Everything.
He knows your secret.  He knows that you are not mute. Before you know it, your feet are moving as you push open the door and yank your bodyguard into your room, not before glancing left and right down the hallway to check anyone's presence.
As soon as you lock the door, you press him against it and lean on your tiptoes, inching your face closer to him as you whisper, "Keep. This. A. Secret."
You had meant for the words to come out threatening but your tear stained eyes and cracking voice doesn't help establish that image.
Seungcheol stares at you with a gaze you are quite unable to decipher. His eyes are soft, full of wonder and you think you can almost spot admiration and something more in them and for a moment, you find yourself lost in the sea of his gaze. 
"______". He calls your name softly. His hands come to your upper arms to hold you gently as he puts some distance between the two of you before ushering you towards your bed and making you sit down. "Your secret is safe with me," he confirms as he sits next to you. "But I am glad you can speak again." He murmurs, giving your shoulder a soft squeeze as he looks around the room you just trashed.
You let out half a sigh of relief, knowing that your secret is safe and you find yourself speaking before you can even think. "I got my voice back quite a while ago. Two months after the accident, actually." Seungcheol's head whips towards you, his eyes widening in surprise.
"My uncle seemed very happy when I lost my voice and he was being weirdly nice to me. I already had my suspicions that the accident was an inside job so I pretended to act mute." You whisper, eyes trained on the floor.
How right you were!
It was an inside job but it had its roots spread out much farther than you thought. Your uncle killed your mother while your father sits there in silence despite knowing that!
The thought makes you shake your head as a dry, mirthless laughter wrings out of your throat. Your head falls back as you laugh like a mad woman as Seungcheol watches you, absolutely perplexed.
He gently tries calling your name. "______—"
"My father knew!" You are yelling between laughter. "He fucking knew!"
The poor man only looks more confused.
"He knew— he… he knows my uncle killed my mom but he is staying silent! He said it himself! I heard him! Do you understand, Seungcheol, my father is turning a blind eye! He is choosing to save his fucking business over me, over his children!"
Seungcheol looks absolutely baffled upon hearing your words as he falls silent with a bleak expression. He does not have the adequate words to respond to that and he simply does not know what he can do at this point to make you feel better.  However, he takes notice of the cut below your thumb and reaches for your hand, setting it down on his thigh while he takes out a handkerchief and gently ties it around the injury. "You hurt yourself," he states quietly, almost to himself before meeting your eyes. "I know what you heard was painful but you need to take care of yourself. For your mother, at least."
And the damn breaks.
You break into a full on sob as you wrap your hands around his large shoulders, molding yourself against him as you cry unceremoniously in his chest. Seungcheol's arms wrap around your body in an effortless blanket of security as he rests his chin on top of your head and strokes your head while you try to burrow yourself deeper into his chest. 
It takes a while for the messy array of tears to subside and once you have calmed down a little, you take notice of his white shirt which is now completely wet where you rested your face. "I'm sorry," you croak weakly, trying to pull away but he holds you by the arms and makes you face him by tilting your chin with his finger.
"There is nothing to be sorry for, okay? Now tell me what I can do to make this a little better. Just so you know, my team is almost done digging up about your uncle. We should have a solid update tomorrow."
A small sob of gratitude and relief escapes your throat and Seungcheol immediately shushes you, his eyes helplessly searching for yours. "C-can you please ask them to look into my dad as well," you hiccup, saying the words you never imagined would come out of your mouth. "I need to know his whereabouts before the accident."
Seungcheol assures you with a nod while his hand strokes your back soothingly. Exhaling a loud, defeated sigh, you wipe your tears and mutter. "Please help me pack my bags, Seungcheol. I am moving back to my place. Tonight. I cannot stay here a second longer."
The man looks like he wants to protest but goes against it and simply nods, getting up to retrieve your bags from your closet.
After hastily packing your belongings you waste no time to march out of the house with Seungcheol trailing behind you. You leave a note on the kitchen, simply saying something came up and you had to leave early.
You are extremely grateful that you do not come across your father because one look at him and the ticking time bomb inside you would explode and you definitely cause a scene.
As the night grows deeper slowly, you isolate yourself in your room once you come back to your apartment. Despite Seungcheol's insistence, you tell him to call it a day and lock yourself up in your room, throwing yourself a pity party. It has been a while since you had such a restless night— the last one being after the accident, and it takes a long long time for sleep to come.
When your eyes finally fall shut, hues of orange and blue have already grazed the sky. 
You do not feel like your best self in the morning but the news Seungcheol brings is enough to get you back on track. 
The manila file sitting on your desk is a gold mine, it's contents spread throughout the surface as you sit in silence, hands linked together under your chin, your brain finally connecting the pieces together.
Seungcheol's friends found a shady bank transfer made by your uncle, two weeks before the accident. The tip led them to an old gang who, after applying some tactics, admitted to taking money from Jin Lee in order to commit a hit and run. After digging around some more they found papers that now lie on your table, a clear proof of your uncle's deal with the gang, which they kept as insurance. Among the documents, one particularly catches your eye.
It is the information of the driver of the truck that hit your car. 
The picture is like a jolt of electricity through your system as you are immediately taken back to the scene of the crash, the moments after where you were hovering over the brink of consciousness. You remember seeing a man peeking into your wrecked car, a man with a scar on his left cheek and all this time you could not fully believe that to be real.
But it was.  You did not imagine it. The picture on the document is that of the driver you saw that morning, the man with a scar on his left cheek, his eyes dark and blank, his lips twisted in a line of malice.
"_____?" Seungcheol's gentle voice guides you out of your head. "My friend had his confession recorded. Would you like to hear it?"
"Of course."
"I need to warn you…it is pretty detailed. About the accident, you know." He looks guilty, even though he has no reason to be.
You swallow a lump in your throat as your heart beat picks up. Are you really ready to revisit that morning? Relive all those feelings?
You have to.
Seungcheol pushes a voice recorder towards you on the table, pressing a button to turn it on.
"I was told that there would be only a girl and her bodyguard in the car! I swear I didn't know her mother would be there as well! I did not mean to kill the woman! After I hit the car, I went to check and…and the older woman was dead! The girl looked barely alive and I didn't think she would survive…."
There is a buzzing sound in your ears. It is deafening.
You are transported to a void where these words keep repeating and repeating, pulling you down, sucking you deeper into a pit of despair.  It hurts so much you are sure death would be easier.
Your head hangs low, silent tears trailing down your cheek as you stare at your lap. Seungcheol calls your name multiple times, asking if you are okay but you cannot bring yourself to form a reply.
The pain, the guilt, the shame, the anger— everything is overwhelming. These feelings consume you whole and dry you out until you are left with an unbelievable urge to scream and holler and cry. 
"______, please, can you hear me?" Seungcheol's touch on your shoulder makes you jolt. You look up to find him standing next to you, eyes glazed with concern as he peers down at you.
"I am fine," you reply after taking a shaky breath.
"Are you sure? Maybe you should call it day—"
"Seungcheol?" You interrupt him. You wipe the tears clean and sit up straight. "Can you call my lawyer? I need him here as soon as possible."
Bad news awaits you the next day when you return home from work. 
As usual Seungcheol walks you to the door of your apartment but you realise something is up when he abruptly stops after stepping out of the elevator and turning towards the door to your place. Following his line of sight you realise he has taken notice of the slightly open front door to your house. 
Your heart drops as a small gasp leaves your lips.
Someone broke into your place. And it does not take a genius to guess who Plus it also confirms that your uncle has found out you have been snooping around. A calm man like him does not make a move unless things are really dire and this proves that he is desperate to get that evidence out of your hands.
Seungcheol tenses up beside you and uses a hand to push you behind his body in a protective manner as he steps closer to the door. With the other hand he pulls out his revolver, holding it out and pointing it straight.
"S-Seungcheol—" You start panicking.
He shushes you before you can say much, eyes trained forward as he takes measured steps. Swallowing the bubble of fear, you hold his back as you follow him into your apartment. 
The storeroom which is right on the left after entering is the first place Seungcheol checks, and when he finds it clear he pushes you inside haphazardly.
"Don't come out until I get you." He commands, shutting the door on your face and clicking the lock before you can even process anything. Baffled, you stand still inside the dimly lit room, carefully listening for any sounds, while a thousand different thoughts run through your head.  This building is one of the most secure residential buildings in the city and breaking in here is quite literally impossible. Which means it is clear your uncle bribed someone on the inside and the realisation of how scary things are getting dawns on you, making you chew nervously on your lower lip as you start to grow restless.
Thankfully, a quick while later Seungcheol opens the door, a wary look on his face and you can immediately tell something is wrong. As soon as the door opens, you push past him and head for your bedroom, only to find the place absolutely trashed. Everything is a mess; from your bed to your closet to your dresser and it is evident that someone took their sweet time to comb through every one of your possessions and as you take in the havoc, the last of your doubts go away.
They were undoubtedly looking for the documents and the recorder. 
Your hands fist at your sides as tears of anger and frustration gather at the corners of your eyes. It only amplifies when you see one of your most precious belongings lying face down on the floor— a picture of you and your mother taken on your eighteenth birthday. 
Immediately you kneel and pick the frame up only to find it broken, making you heave out a helpless cry of anger. As you clutch it to your chest, your eyes scan the mess around you and a sense of doom settles in your gut. So this is what your life has come to now.
"Come. You're not staying here." Seungcheol's quiet command disrupts your thoughts.
"W-what? What do you mean? Where am I gonna go?" You scramble to stand up.
"At my place. This place isn't safe, _____." He pins you down with a serious look. "Pack your essentials and I mean absolute essentials. Your passport and any important papers."
"Wait, I—"
"Now." He commands. "I am gonna make some calls to find out who did this. Be ready in ten." He is walking out of the room while dialling a number, leaving you flabbergasted.
A while later you sit on the passenger's seat next to Seungcheol as he pulls the car out of your underground parking and onto the busy street, eyes focused on the road in silence. The only sound surrounding you is the sound of the bustling city and it isn't enough to ease the thick tension in the car. Seungcheol's jaw is clenched and his lips are pressed into a thin line as you observe him while he stares straight ahead. "What do we do after going to your place? I can't just hide forever." You break the silence with your words, your eyes trained out the window. It looks like it's going to rain.
"You'll stay in my place until the threat is removed. I'll soon receive the CCTV footage and from there on we can track down who ordered to invade your home." He declares.
"It was my uncle." You say without much thought.
Seungcheol turns to look at you for a beat before focusing on the road again. "You sound sure." He murmurs.
"Who else would it be then? He is after the evidence." You reply. Seungcheol remains silent for a beat before agreeing with a hum. Another silence follows after that. You take occasional, shy glances at him while he drives and when the car stops at a red light in an intersection, you call for him, making him turn his head to look at you. "Seungcheol?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you. For today."
He stares at you quietly, not blinking. "I just did my job."
"No, you are doing a lot more. You are helping me out in so many ways and I can only keep myself together thanks to you."
He only stares more at you. His gaze is intense and his eyes are hypnotic; if you stare too long it unnerves you, dissects you open. "You will be fine, _____." He replies after a long pause. "With or without me."
His words trigger you. 
With or without me?
You want to yell that he has to stick around however long you want him to but his cold demeanour makes your thoughts appear silly, even to yourself.  You are clearly looking for something more, much more than he wants to give you.  You know he would probably burn the world for you, not because he loves you but because he is a loyal person and probably because he pities you. 
Just a little bit. And you accept that. — Seungcheol's place is a canvas of grey and black and white. It is minimalistic and clean, a one bedroom apartment on the tenth floor in a quieter part of the city. As he walks you through his humble abode, he gives directions on where everything is and finally opens the door to his bedroom, leading you in before announcing. "You take the bed. I'll sleep on the sofa."
You do not protest because you know he would never listen. Instead, you almost ask him to share the bed with you but prevent going with it because you cannot trust yourself to remain professional while he sleeps so close to you with that tempting body of his.
"I'll leave you to rest. I'm going for a grocery run. Do not open the door for anyone but me. If there is any problem, call me." He uses his no nonsense tone and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. 
"Okay, okay." You watch him leave before shutting the bedroom door and sitting down on the floor, letting out a deep breath, one you've been unconsciously holding for a while.
As you watch the orange sky from the large window of Seungcheol's bedroom, the events of the last forty eight hours wash over you. You can't help but admire yourself at how calm you are. You woke up feeling numb today and you've been functioning on autopilot the whole day. Seeing your place ransacked did evoke some emotion within you but then again, deep down you were expecting something like this to happen once you had the evidence. 
You're running on pure adrenaline and you know you cannot stop until you have put your dear uncle behind bars. 
And maybe, even your father. 
He's an accomplice, no? He knows very well who killed his wife yet he decides to keep quiet, which makes him more vile to you. You find more hatred towards your father brimming within you, than towards your uncle. Yes, you expected him to play unfair but your own father knowing the culprit of your mother's death and simply burying it under the rug?  That, you absolutely cannot tolerate. 
A number of different scenarios run through your head on how you can bring them down. Despite having this irresistible urge to just run to the police with the recorder, you remember your lawyer's words.
It won't be enough. 
A few documents and a tape of confession are not enough to bring a man like Jin down. He has very strong connections with law enforcement and an even stronger set of lawyers. You need a solid witness. You need to catch him red handed. You need to create a scandal he can't recover from. You need to gather more proof. Proof so irrefutable, that his entire empire comes crashing down. 
And good for you, your uncle has already started setting up his doom. Trashing your place was his first mistake, the first piece of the domino. Now, it is a matter of time until everything collapses. You pray he will keep on making more mistakes. 
In fact, you know he will. He will do anything to get his hands on the evidence and you will stack all his actions against him at court. And when the time comes for the nail to hit the head…
You're going to be the bait. —
Somewhere in the middle of the night, you wake up from your sleep. Falling asleep came to you easily after eating the dinner Seungcheol cooked and then curling up in his bed where the sheets smelled subtly like him. It led you to have the best sleep you had in a while but now that you are awake, there is an itch in your throat, making it dry. 
So, quietly, you get up from bed and walk to the kitchen, a small light in the hallway guiding you to find a glass and pour yourself some water. 
As you sit on one of the breakfast stools and gulp it down, you watch Seungcheol sleeping on the sofa. The blanket that was probably on top of him once has fallen on the floor, the small space clearly not sufficient for his large frame as almost half of his body hangs out of the sofa. You almost feel bad for him and wonder how he can sleep in such a tiny space but it is pointless to feel guilty. He would never take the bed, no matter how much you offered.
As you take the last few sips of your water, you catch the moonlight draping over half of his face, casting it in an ethereal glow. It's stunning how beautiful he is. His usual stoic face is now relaxed, his full brows not knotted in a frown, his long eyelashes resting against his cheek, his plump full lips parted just a tiny bit. 
Unashamedly, for the nth time, you find yourself wondering how it'd be like to kiss him. You can't remember the last time a man made you feel like this, if ever. Your relationship with him should be strictly professional yet as you spend more time with him your mind keeps on entering forbidden territories.  Which is sad because you know he feels nowhere near that for you. Maybe he even has a girlfriend, or a wife— though you see no ring in his finger. Maybe a divorced wife with whom he parted ways begrudgingly, someone who still haunts his dreams. 
As you conjure up various scenarios of his relationship status, Seungcheol stirs in his sleep before a quiet groan escapes his lips.
You crane your head to take a better look at him, to see if he's awake but you soon realise he isn't as another pained groan leaves his lips, his large body shuffling in the congested space.
Is he having a nightmare?
You immediately get up and dash towards him, turning a light on the way and kneeling right beside the sofa. There's a light sheen of sweat coating his face and his eyebrows are marred in a frown as his eyes remain squeezed shut, his body writhing desperately "Seungcheol? Seungcheol!" You yell, grabbing his shoulders and trying your best to shake him out of whatever that's haunting him.
"No! No! Please, no!" The pain and helplessness in his voice halts your breath as you continue to shake him awake while his hands come to grab your arms in a tight hold, almost like an anchor. His grip only grows stronger as he yells in protest and you try your very best to wake him up once more. "Seungcheol! Please! Wake up! It's a nightmare!"
A set of blown out pupils look at you the next moment, and in a moment of silence a small shaky breath leaving his lips before they part slightly in shock. Then, before you know it, you are falling on your ass as Seungcheol shoves you away and scrambles to the farthest corner of the sofa. 
Even though your ass hurts, you know it was an unintended reaction. You whisper in a voice so soft as if you're talking to a wounded animal, "Seungcheol, it's okay. You're safe. You were having a nightmare."
The man sits still, hugging his knees as he still tries to catch his breath, a horrified look on his face. Not being able to bear it anymore, you immediately move to him and even though he flinches and tries to move away at first, he gives in when you wrap your arms around his shoulders. 
Soon he's burying his face on your neck as his large body curls around you, his hands gripping your night shirt tightly as if he's trying to mould himself into you. You feel his harsh pants on your shoulder so you try your best to soothe him, rubbing his back in repeated motions while whispering words of solace.
"It's alright, Seungcheol. I'm here. I have got you. It was just a bad dream."
You don't know how long you hold him like that but it seems to be a while, which feels too soon to you because Seungcheol pulls away from your arms before scooting away, putting a little distance between the two of you. He doesn't meet your eyes as he sighs, annoyed and dejected, while rubbing his temples.  "Are you okay? Would you like some water?" You offer. He shakes his head, looking down, his usual stoic mask settling back onto his face. 
"Why are you up?" He asks, his tone somewhat snappy. You frown. "I got out of bed to get a glass of water. You were having a nightmare, Seungcheol. Are you sure—"
"It's fine. It happens."
You are stunned at his lack of care. Is this a daily occurrence? Does he wake up every night, alone and screaming from his nightmares? Why is he allowing this to happen? Does he have someone to talk to? You want to ask all these questions but then decide against it due to the situation. Instead, you shuffle a little closer to him and start fixing his messy hair with a soft touch.
Seungcheol completely freezes at first and you expect him to bat your hand away but he doesn't. So you bite your lip to hide your smile as you finish fixing his hair before wiping the sweat off his brow. 
But you don't get to go far with that because Seungcheol grabs your wrist in a gentle hold, stopping you. His eyes scan over the length of your arms before he meets your eye. "Are you okay? I hurt you, didn't I?"
You simply shake your head and offer him a small smile which doesn't seem to convince him. His brows frown once again as you see him start overthinking so you put a stop to them. "I'm fine, Seungcheol, really. If you should be worried about anything, it is yourself. You're not on duty right now, you know. You can relax. I'm not a priority now." His eyes bore into yours and for a moment you see something foreign in his eyes. Something akin to vulnerability, longing, maybe even desperation.
"Go back to sleep, ____." His voice is gruff. "You've had a long day."
You want to protest but decided not to as huff out a breath and cast one more longing glance at him, hoping that maybe he would change his mind, before retreating to your room.
— It's ten o'clock when you wake up. 
Your first thought is that you are late for work, which makes you sit right up, ready to bolt out of bed but the next moment you realise it's a Saturday.  And you are not at home. You are at Seungcheol's place.
So you take your sweet time leaving the bed and freshening up, shuffling through Seungcheol's products in the bathroom. You also sneak in a sniff of his aftershave and cologne, smiling at yourself at your perverseness.
When you step out of your room, you find Seungcheol sitting on one of the breakfast stools, going through some documents with rapt attention. You stand by your door frame for a while, admiring his built frame from behind, his large back muscles and shoulders stretched beneath a white tee but you don't get to stare at him too long because his head turns around and catches you in the act.
"Good morning, _____." He greets.
You clear your throat, shuffling to the kitchen counter and pour yourself a glass of water, pretending as if he didn't just catch you eye fucking him. "Good morning, Seungcheol." Your voice is soft.
"Would you like to have breakfast now? I can make you some toast and omelette." He kindly offers. "There's also cereal if you want."
"I think I'll go with the cereal," You murmur, taking a seat opposite to him. You haven't had much of an appetite for the past few days which isn't really a surprise considering the situation.  Seungcheol goes back to scanning the documents in front of him while you sit in silence, sipping your water. You wonder wether you should bring up last night, maybe ask him if he's okay now but you have a suspicion it won't be received well by him. As you chew on your lip and debate the idea, Seungcheol looks up to meet your eyes, his face ever so serious.
"You have to take a break from work for a few days." He announces.
"What? Why?"
Probably for the first time, you see him hesitate which stresses you out. "What's wrong, Seungcheol? Tell me."
"You have received a few death threats, _____. I found them in your mail. For the time being, you need to lay low, appearing in public puts you at risk. In fact, we're leaving for a safe house today."
"Wait- what?" Your brain is trying hard to catch up. "Safe house? What are you talking about? I'm not safe here?"
"They know your address, _____. It won't take them long to get mine. I need to get you to an untraceable place."
You don't know what to feel or even how to react. You're at a loss as you try to figure out your next move. "What do those threats say exactly? Can I see them?"
Seungcheol's face hardens. "No. They're not pretty to look at." His voice brings shivers down your spine as a wave of nausea hits you. You had no idea your uncle could stoop so low. But then again, he's a murderer so you shouldn't have underestimated him. 
Seungcheol must have seen your face pale because he calls your name firmly, grounding your attention to him. "You are safe with me, _____. You just have to trust me, okay?" You find comfort in his eyes so you find yourself nodding immediately which satisfies him. "Get ready. We'll leave in two hours."
"Where are we going?"
"Don't worry about that."
"Does my father know?"
"About the death threats? Yes. He didn't seem too concerned about it though. Said it might be a prank."
Somehow, you're not surprised.
"But not about moving you to a safe location," Seungcheol adds. "No one needs to know about that. It's safer that way."
"Even my brother?"
"Yes. I suggest you call him and tell him you'll be out of reach for a while."
You deflate at that. Chan is going to be worried. And how on earth are you going to explain everything to him when all of this eventually unveils?
Seungcheol gets up, gathering all the papers and just as he turns to leave, he stops. "Oh, and ____? Don't come near me when I'm having a nightmare next time."
What?
"But Seungcheol—"
"For your own safety, _____. Don't. This is not a request." He doesn't wait for your reply but marches away as you silently watch his retreating form, lips pursed in annoyance.
The little appetite you had for breakfast is ruined as you go back to your room, cursing his stubbornness. As you pick up your phone to check for any important messages, a text from your dear father greets you. Your bodyguard told me you received death threats. Maybe it is better for you to stay at home and not work. For your own good, you should seriously consider giving your position to someone else. His flagrant attitude makes your blood boil as you fist your hands around your phone in a death grip before tossing it onto the bed in a fit of rage.
This day has not started off well.
— Two hours later you are well on your way to the safe house with a bag packed containing your absolute necessities. Your bodyguard has confiscated your real phone and gave you a burner instead just to be cautious.
Seungcheol, as always, drives the car in silence, the features of his face set to a grim expression. The air is thick with tension and you debate putting the radio on but even doing that feels too awkward.
"How long is the drive?" You finally ask, desperate to lessen this weird tension.
"We're taking a train from the station."
"Wait, what?"
"It is quite far. Driving there is going to take way too long." He calmly replies, eyes focused on the road. Sighing, you lean back and rest your head against the headrest. You let your eyes wander outside the window, watching the people, the view passing by while your mind runs rampant with all kinds of thoughts; anxious, restless.
A while later, you take notice of something in the rearview mirror and finally voice out the concern that has been bugging you for a while. "Seungcheol?" There's a touch of panic in your voice.
"Yes?"
"See that black Mercedes? It has been following us for a while…I think." You stare eagerly at Seungcheol waiting for his reply, waiting to be told that you are wrong but instead, a small, amused smile graces his lips.
"So you noticed, huh?"
It feels like your heart is going to drop out of your ass.
"What do we do?" You whisper, sitting up straight and craning your head back to take a proper look at the car. Sure enough, the SUV is right behind you, not even trying to be discreet anymore.
Fuck this crap, seriously.
"Trust me, I have got a plan. You just need to do as I tell you, okay?" He assures, his voice composed unlike yours.
"O-okay."
He turns to face you for a beat, giving you a reassuring look before continuing to drive in silence for a couple more minutes while the Mercedes stays on your tail. "Hold tight. I'm going to speed up. There's a parking lot about a mile from here. We're going to stop there."
"WHAT!"
You don't get your reply because the next second, the car is zooming forward as Seungcheol steps on the accelerator. You are gripping the dashboard and your seatbelt with your dear life as Seungcheol speeds through the lane like a madman, swerving every now and then. The Mercedes chasing you has a hard time keeping up with Seungcheol's viciously smooth driving because in a moment's time you are in the parking lot where Seungcheol parks the car in the corner farthest from the entry.
"Listen to me very carefully, ____." Seungcheol says as he turns the engine off and removes his seatbelt. "Crawl to the back and lay low, okay? No matter what happens, what you see, you do not make a move until I come get you, do you hear me?"
Your throat feels like sandpaper as you whisper. "Y-yes. Yes I do."
"Good." He squeezes your hand. "Now crawl into the back."
You do as you are told, moving into the backseat and crouching down as Seungcheol exits the car before locking it. You peek through the tinted window, watching with bated breath as the black SUV pulls up and two bald headed men exit the vehicle which parks right by the entry. They walk to Seungcheol, their stances predatory as they talk about something you cannot hear.
Next thing you know, one of the men is throwing an uppercut towards Seungcheol which fails to land because your bodyguard steps back, avoiding it easily.
Then, a full on fight ensues as the two men attack Seungcheol unsparingly. Seungcheol does not fail to keep up as he easily avoids them and counterattacks. Very soon, he is landing a kick on one of the men that throws him down to the ground with a harsh blow before grabbing the other guy and holding him in a chokehold. Soon, his body slumps to the ground.
Is he dead?
The other guy, meanwhile, recovers and charges for Seungcheol and you notice a bit too late that he has a knife because he manages to land a slash on Seungcheol's chest, making him stumble back. "Seungcheol!" Your hand unconsciously reaches for the door handle, tugging it to get out and help him. Alas, you can't do that. Fortunately, though, Seungcheol seems to not require any help as in the very next moment Seungcheol attacks the man, snatches the knife from him and bashes his head against the trunk of a car once, twice, thrice, making him fall into the ground, unconscious.
The breath you were holding finally escapes your lungs. Seungcheol dashes to the car the next moment, opening the back door and dragging you out by the arm before you can even say something.
"Come on. We don't have time."
"Wait, where are we going?" 
"There's a five minute shortcut to the station from here," he says, leading you by holding your hand as his legs pick up speed. "We have to run because they are expecting us to move by car. Come on!"
And so, you let him guide the way, his hand holding yours tightly, as you take the underground exit of the lot. You run for your life, your legs going sore but you manage to keep going just because of the adrenaline.  Soon enough, the station comes into view and Seungcheol picks up speed as the whistle of the train echoes through the air, informing its departure.
"Oh crap, we're not gonna make it!" You yell. "We will. Just keep running," Seungcheol hollers back as you both run parallel to the train that is slowly picking up speed. Suddenly Seungcheol lets go of your hand which throws you into a moment of panic but you keep running as you start to guess his plan.
You watch as he bolts for the entrance of the last carriage and in the blink of an eye, jumps inside.
"Holy shit." You curse. The next moment, he turns around and leans out the door, holding out one of his hands for you to grab onto while the other grips the handle by the door.  "Come on! Grab my hand!"
Your legs are so tired they feel shaky, ready to collapse any moment. Still, you run with all your might, holding out your hand, reaching for his. 
"Just a little bit! You can do it!" He encourages as the rhythm of the wheels intensifies, letting you know you do not have much time.
Oh shit.
Grunting in frustration, you put all the bridling remnants of your energy and dart forward which seems to be just enough, as your hand touches Seungcheol's. The next moment he grabs onto your hand and in the blink of an eye he is tugging your full weight and pulling you inside the carriage.
Upon entering, you collapse on the floor, panting loudly as Seungcheol lets go of your hand and cranes his neck out the door as if looking for something. Even though you are wheezing for air, you follow his line of sight and see two men running after the train as if they were chasing you. By now the train is moving at full speed, crossing the end of the platform, making them slow down and watch helplessly. "Who…are…they?" You choke between breaths.
"Your uncle's men." Seungcheol replies nonchalantly as he shuts the door and kneels next to you.
"How long have they been following us?"
"After we got to the station."
"Why didn't you say anything!"
"I didn't want to scare you." He replies, his hand wrapping around your shoulder. "Don't talk, just breathe. You did well."
You don't know if it is the intensity of the situation or the adrenaline crash or his words that make you slump in his arms, your body resting against his as you catch your breath. The feeling of his warmth against your body is something you are extremely grateful for at the moment.
"Please tell me you have tickets." You pant, resting your head against his shoulder.
"Of course. First class." _____ Five hours later, you are at your destination.
It is a cabin in a small town full of greenery and old architecture.  It is very picturesque, located in between a vast area of mountains, somewhere you'd come to spend the summer with your family maybe. Even though your situation is the farthest thing from a vacation, it doesn't stop you from admiring the beauty before your eyes.
"The place is very beautiful, Seungcheol." You admire the surroundings as well as the cabin.
It's somewhat isolated from the town, shrouded by the forest, as the nearest market from here is about ten minutes drive.
"Thank you, my grandfather made it. He left it for me." He provides as he carries your small bag from the car he borrowed from a friend here and unlocks the door with a key.
"We should do something about your cut." You mention worriedly, crossing the threshold as you see him slightly wince while moving. The bleeding seems to have stopped after he put some pressure in the wound but it still needs to be cleaned.
Hearing your words, he looks down to see the wound before shrugging, "It's fine. The bleeding has stopped."
You expected him to say something like that so you take matters in your own hands. "Is there a first aid kit here?" You ask as you pad to the bathroom, looking around carefully and sure enough, inside the cabinets under the sink, there's a first aid box.  Seungcheol murmurs grumbles of protest as you come back to the living area and ask for him to sit on the spot next to you on the couch.  Thankfully he listens to you. As he unbuttons his shirt, you disinfect your hands while trying your best not to peek at the delicious row of abs that comes into display. As his wound comes into view you cannot help but wince at the sight, which doesn't go unnoticed by your bodyguard. His hand immediately reaches to take the cotton swab from your hand, murmuring. "I can do it myself."
You tsk in disapproval, sending him your best scolding glare before resting one of your hands on his shoulder for support and gently swiping on the wound with the swab dipped in antiseptic with your dominant hand. Seungcheol sits still all through it while you hold your breath, channelling all your focus on the task at hand. 
It is scary; being this close to him and for some reason the act of cleaning up a cut is turned into something way too intimate by your brain. So, you don't dare to look in his eyes, afraid of what you'll see in them but terrified of what they will make you feel; something you can not resist or put a lid on, like the urge to cup his cheeks and kiss those irresistible lips.
You must be swiping at his wound with your face mere inches away from touching his chest for way too long because one of Seungcheol's hands comes to grab your wrist, stopping your movements.  "I think that's enough," His voice holds the aloofness that you are used to which makes you sigh.
"Does it hurt? Do you want a painkiller?" You still find yourself asking.
Seungcheol frowns. "No, ____. I'm fine. It's just a cut, I won't die."
"Still—"
"Maybe you should focus on yourself. You have had a long day—"
"Why do you always do this!" It takes a few moments for you to realise you are yelling. You stand on your feet, hands fisted at your sides as the first aid kit falls on the floor from your lap, spilling its contents all over.
"What do you mean?" He asks and you absolutely loathe how his voice never changes, laced with that touch of monotony and indifference.
"Ugh, Seungcheol! Why do you always push me away! I want to help you! I'm just trying to take care of you!" This, however, seems to evoke an emotion from him because he is immediately on his feet, glaring at you, his large body towering over you.
"It is not your job to take care of me! If anyone here is going to take care of someone, it will be me making sure you are alive, is that clear?"
"I'm just trying to help you yet you keep pushing me away—"
"I do not need your help!" His voice is a roar of thunder, making you gasp as you take a step back. You've never seen him like this nor did you imagine someone so unbothered and composed had a side like this. "Who are you, huh? Why do you keep stepping over the line? Did I ask for your fucking help? I'm the last person you should be worried about, Ms Lee, you understand that?"
By now, angry tears have gathered in your eyes. Not wanting to cry in front of him you bite your lips and push past him as you run towards your room. "Fuck you, Choi Seungcheol!" —
You spend a long time in your room, crying and cursing him out before eventually falling asleep out of exhaustion. 
When you are awake from your slumber, the clock reads 2 in the morning. Disoriented and irritated and hungry, the first thing you do after emptying your bladder is go hunt for something to eat. Even though you intended to avoid Seungcheol, it is impossible not to come across him as he sleeps on the couch in the living room, this one thankfully big enough for him to comfortably lie. 
There's a small lamp in the corner of the room and the light from there is falling on one side of his face, highlighting his cheekbones. 
You stand still for a moment to make sure that he's actually asleep, before tiptoeing to the kitchen. Pouring yourself a glass of water and you think of something easy to make that will not wake up the moody bastard in the next room. 
However, you don't get too far with that thought because a moment later, you hear an all familiar groan float through the quiet air of the night. It is Seungcheol. And he's having a nightmare. Once again. It's like deja vu.
All his commands of not helping him fly out the window as you run to the living room. Before you can reach there, however, you hear a crash and upon entering you see Seungcheol, wide awake and sitting on the floor on his hands and knees, his entire frame shaking violently as he keeps uttering something under his breath, still stuck in his nightmare. 
Your heart drops when you see the glass showpiece on the centre table shattered on the floor, along with the pillows and blanket that were previously on the couch. "Seungcheol!" You yell as you rush to him, carefully avoiding the broken shards of glass and sitting on your knees next to him as you try to get him out of his head and focus on you. His blown out pupils meet yours as his hands shake and his breath comes out in struggling pants. 
He's having a panic attack.
"Seungcheol!" you call for him, trying your best to keep your voice stable which proves to be hard as your heart breaks for the man, hating seeing him in this state. 
"Look at me. Listen to my voice. Breathe. Breathe with me. Look at me. Breathe, just breathe, you're going to be fine."
And so for the next few minutes, you try your best to calm the agitated man down, holding his body next to yours as you run your hands along his back, up and down, up and down.
You realise he's back to normal when the shuddering stops and his body remains immoblie next to you, as if he has fallen asleep.  You know otherwise because when you pull back to take a look at his face, you find his eyes open, that familiar, empty and aloof gaze replacing the panicked ones. His lips are set to a thin line and you feel his whole body stiffen next to yours and just like you know he is back to normal.
This time, you do not ask him if he's okay or if he wants anything. Instead you get up from the floor quietly and go to the kitchen where you quickly make him a warm cup of tea.
When you return, he's still on the floor, sitting with his back against the sofa, hands resting on his knees as his head hangs low. Silently, you walk over and sit next to him before extending the steaming mug towards him.
You hold your breath, waiting for him to reject it and start spewing mean words at you but you are to be amazed. 
Surprising you, he does none of those things but accepts the mug and takes a small sip. A tiny smile of victory graces your lips as you settle your gaze forward to the empty wall and sit in silence next to him. 
As the steam gradually disappears from the mug and his dejected posture becomes tense and uptight, you know he's about to tell you off.  Your guess turns out to be correct because just a moment later, he sets his mug down on the floor and turns to face you. His voice is stoic when he speaks, "I clearly told you not to—"
"Do you want to talk about it?" You interrupt him with a soft voice. He appears stunned as his mouth opens to say something but closes back to a tight line.
"I used to have nightmares as well, after the accident." You whisper, leaning back to the sofa, your unfocused gaze settled on the  walls of the cabin as your mind disappears in the depths of the memories of those gruesome nights.
"I'd wake up screaming and crying. Every damn time I'd see the crash so vividly and the moments before it, my mom's desperate eyes at mine, her fading words, telling me to hold on, telling me that she loves me..." You lose your voice with a choke as tears blind your vision. A hand comes to rest on your shoulder gently and gives you a reassuring squeeze. It takes a few moments for your brain to process that it's Seungcheol and you are pleasantly surprised. 
Your eyes search for him, and his face is solemn, his eyes showing just a reflection of kindness and sympathy. With a sad smile, you wipe the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. "It was horrible at the beginning when I couldn't speak. I'd wake up distressed and not finding my voice would make it even worse. For the first two months, Chan stayed with me every night. He'd try his best to calm me down but every night I'd be just as scared to go to bed."
"Eventually, the nightmares didn't come as often. Especially after I realised I could speak again and I was remembering bits and pieces of the accident and my suspicion was growing. I haven't had any nightmares for a while now but I remember how they made me feel. How awfully...real they felt." You sigh, shuddering at the thought.
A few moments of silence pass by as Seungcheol's hand drops from your shoulder. You don't expect him to spill his heart out but you are grateful that he didn't push you away and listened to you and comforted you. It is more than you ever thought you could get from him. Having this simple, somewhat bitter moment of intimacy is enough to soothe your love starved heart.  However, you realise it's a night full of surprises when Seungcheol starts speaking. "I was in the military, as you know. I joined when I was eighteen. I lost my parents the year before so it was just me and my grandfather." His voice is quiet as he fixes his eyes out the window, looking at the dark night sky.
You follow his gaze and make a quick observation that there are no stars tonight, just an empty, dark sky, before setting your gaze on Seungcheol's face. 
"My grandfather served in the military during the early years of his life and I wanted to follow his footsteps. The first few years were tough but good. I enjoyed them as they kept me busy and focused. During my fifth year in the military, my grandfather passed away peacefully in his sleep. I was on break at that time so I was there with him in his last moments. However, it still broke me. Sending him off was one of the hardest things I had ever done."
He pauses, making you hold your breath and anticipate his next words. His expression is unreadable, his sharp gaze focused outside when he continues.  "I returned to the military a different man. My life as a soldier became everything to me. I worked ten times harder than anyone else as the military turned into my entire life. I jumped through the ranks very quickly and went on various missions as a SEAL. All of them were dangerous but successful as I led my teams out safely each time. Until Sudan."
There is another heavy pause as you feel the air thicken with tension. You know the worst part is about to begin and as you observe his gaze become more and more unfocused, you can't help but dread whatever is coming next. "It was a humanitarian mission. Me and my team were tasked to rescue some families from a group of local terrorists. They were held inside a camp in the middle of the desert. The infiltration was successful. But, just as we were escaping, the terrorists found out and came at us with double manpower. They had a couple of high powered explosives which we were unprepared for because they were not supposed to have such weapons."
"As my team and I were exchanging fire against them, a bomb went off right next to me. It is the last thing I remember before waking up in a hospital bed a week later."
"The explosion fucked up left leg. I needed three surgeries and months of rehabilitation. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part is that it cost three of my teammates their lives."
Oh Seungcheol. Tears are beading down your eyes as you let his words soak into you.
"It happened almost six years ago but it still haunts me. How I fucked up. How I killed them." "Seungcheol, no!" You scold, your voice not as powerful as you'd like it to be as it breaks mid way. "You did not kill them, you hear me? It was an accident. A horrible one but it was not your fault in any way. They died honourably and think of all the others you saved, all the times you led your team out of harm successfully. Think about all the lives you have saved, all the people you have helped." Your grip is strong on his forearms as you turn him to face you fully. His eyes meet you; bleak and hopeless and the urge to wipe away all his pain soars within you. It's a shame you can't do that so you do the next best thing you can think of.
You pull him in a tight hug. You wrap yourself around him, resting your chin over his shoulder as you close your eyes and hold him tight, the act a bit hard due his huge build. For several long moments he doesn't hug you back until you finally feel his warm hands creep on your back as he rests his face against your neck, cocooning your body with his.
You swallow a sob and blink furiously to drive away the tears, your hands stroking his hair in gentle motions. "It's alright, Cheol. You are going to be just fine. It is all going to be okay."
His response is to hold you tighter and you welcome his vulnerability, his pain and agony with open arms, breathing it in as if it is your own. Long moments are spent as you two remain in each other's embrace until you finally sit back to take a look at him.
"Maybe you should talk to a therapist?"
"I did," he sighs, running a hand through his soft locks. "After the accident, I saw one for almost a year. I was prescribed so many medicines and I almost got addicted to them even though they weren't doing much to help. So I decided to quit altogether and moved here, in his cabin. I stayed here for about six months, trying to pull myself together before an old friend of mine called, asking if I wanted to join his private security company. I agreed because I couldn't live in solitude any longer without killing myself and now, I'm here." You nod, watching him intently as you two sit with mere inches of space between each other's faces. In the back of your mind, you realize that this is the most intimate you have been with Seungcheol and probably you will ever get to be so you can't help but speak the next words. "You are so beautiful, Seungcheol. Inside and out. You are such an amazing person.I only wish you would know that." Your words can barely be heard because you speak so softly but it contains emotions from the deepest, rawest part of your heart. Sitting with him on the floor, in the middle of the night at a cabin in the woods, talking about your deepest traumas and secrets is something you never thought you would experience but now you realise, it is a treasure, a moment of profoundness that you will carry close to your heart for the rest of your life.
Seungcheol's eyes widen for a fraction upon hearing your words before he shifts, trying to pull away from you but your strong grip on his hands stops him. Once again, you find yourself confessing. "Ever since you've come to my life, I feel hopeful, even though we are going through so much trouble. I want to live again and I feel happy and hopeful when I look at you. And I can never thank you enough for that."
Seungcheol's Adams apple bobs as he swallows and the expression on his face is so vivid you realize you have left him speechless. A small, shy smile sets on your lips as you squeeze his hands softly, your thumb stroking over his bruised knuckles.  While your mind swoons over how tender this moment is and how beautiful he looks and how soft his lips appear, he inches his face closer to you before pressing his lips against yours.
At first, you believe it's a dream.
It is bound to be, no?
Blinking multiple times, you make sure that it in fact is not a dream but it seems to take too long because Seungcheol is pulling away from you, the apology right there at the tip of his tongue. However, you do not let him speak the words he doesn't mean. Instead, you do what you have only done in your late night fantasies, you cup his cheeks and pull his face down to yours, meeting his lips in a fierce kiss. You do not even think of holding back, pouring every bit of passion and need and admiration for him into it. 
Thankfully, he reciprocates, cupping your neck and jaw, tilting your face for better access. 
And it's wonderland. It is everything you imagined and more, everything you want and need, everything that can heal you.
In the rosy haze of desire and desperation, your hungry hands travel down to the hem of his white t-shirt, tugging on it in a futile attempt to get it off. The action gets the attention of Seungcheol as he dettaches his lips from yours, taking a look at your face.
"_____—" he makes a weak attempt to stop you but his words die on his tongue as you hastily stand up, dragging him with him. Pressing a soft finger on his lips, you shush him as you bring your face closer to him and whisper in his ear. "Don't push me away Seungcheol, please. I need you. And you need me too."
There is a battle in his gaze as he stares at your longing visage for a moment with a clenched jaw before muttering a curse underneath his breath. The next moment, you are being carried to your bedroom and in the blink of an eye, you are standing in front of your bed with his frame towering over you.
"You wanted this?" He teases but his eyes are lit with a fire that is inextinguishable as he takes off his shirt and even in the dimly lit room, you do not miss the carved perfection of his body, littered with scars here and there. In vain hope, you pray that your face isn't visible as you ogle him but you know it is because his unrelenting stare breaks your skin into goosebumps. 
As you are stuck in a trance of lust, he takes a step closer to you before his breath grazes your ear. "Lift your hands, angel."
The next moment, he pulls your nightshirt off your body, leaving you only in your sleeping shorts. He wastes no time, attacking them right next as they come off with a tug and you fall into your bed. You have no time to overthink or feel shy because Seungcheol cages your body underneath his as he crawls to you, a dark look of hunger on his face. 
"You are a fucking temptress, you know that?" He grunts, a calloused thumb reaching out to stroke your cheek. You lean into his touch, eyes falling closed at the contact as a soft sigh escapes your lips but the next moment Seungcheol is grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in for a heated kiss. 
It's all teeth and tongue as he devours your mouth, two tongues entangled in a fierce rhythm of tango before finally letting you gasp for air.  "Crawl up," his voice is that of a quiet command which you follow instantly, letting him sit comfortably on his knees as he spreads your legs wide.
The very next moment a squeak leaves your mouth as Seungcheol pushes his index finger inside you, your wetness granting easy access. He makes a noise, something akin to an animalistic groan as his digit easily slips inside. 
"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he murmurs as he inserts another finger and then another before curling them inside you.
"Seungcheol!" You yell, grabbing the sheets as your hips lift off the mattress due to the electrifying jolt of pleasure. Your reaction makes him grunt as he fastens his face and you feel your legs tremble, making you think that you are going to come already. 
Your core tightens around his fingers as more wetness leaks from you, only amplified when he brushes his thumb against your clit. Another gasp and a shudder of your body makes Seungcheol smirk as he whispers, "Gonna come, angel?"
You nod your head aggressively, your hips chasing his fingers in their own rhythm and just as the tingles of your release soars in your body, Seungcheol removes his fingers.
"No!" Your protest is immediate but the man only gives you a cruel smile as he makes a show of licking his fingers clean. The act itself is extremely hot and you cannot help but release another groan of frustration. 
"Seungcheol! Please let me—"
"You are gonna lie back and let me eat your pussy now, hmm? After I'm satisfied, I will let you come." He announces, lips hovering over your thighs, the touch of his warm breath giving your goosebumps. The low gravel of his voice paired with the way he keeps looking at you from between your thighs makes you swallow thickly before lying your head back into the pillow, a shuddering breath leaving your lips.
"Good girl."
Good girl.
Your core clenches deliciously.  However, you do not get to soak in the warmth of his praise because the next moment he flicks your clit with his tongue and your scream pierces the night air. Your body writhes while he holds your thighs open in a strong grip, incoherent gasps and curses of pleasure falling from your lips. Seungcheol is like a man starved, as he eats you out mercilessly, his tongue going deep inside your most intimate parts. You can't remain still, tears of pleasure stinging your eyes as your body shakes and pleas fall from your lips.
"Oh f-fuck! Seungcheol! Please!" 
You yourself do not know what you are begging for. It's the sweetest torture, one you want to end but also continue forever.
Your release has wet your inner thighs and paired with Seungcheol's saliva they drip down to your asshole but Seungcheol doesn't stop. He brings his attention to your hard, swollen clit now which he flicks repeatedly with his tongue.
"Fuck! I can't! Please let me come!" You are convinced your voice can be heard from miles away. "You wanna come?" He grunts between breaths, voice muffled.
"Yes, yes! Please!"
"Then come. Come for me, my angel." The command has your toes curling as he gives a harsh suck to your clit and in an instant, you go off like a firework. The heated coil in your belly snaps as your body twitches, sending you headfirst into an orgasm so good, so deep, tears drip down your eyes. All through it, Seungcheol keeps sucking your pussy, almost making you numb before stopping with a final, sloppy kiss on your clit and sitting back.
Even in the darkness, you see his lips shine with your release.
"You are an aphrodisiac, angel." His words caress your skin as he leans forward and presses soft, tantalising kisses on your jaw and down your throat. 
"Please, fuck me now," your voice is a cry of plea as you chase his lips for a kiss. He entertains you, tangling your mouths in an embrace of passion as you taste yourself on his tongue. One of his hands moves down amidst the kiss and your foggy brain registers that he's taking off his sweatpants. 
With a soft groan he takes off his lips from yours and frees himself from your entangled limbs, standing up to kick his boxers and sweatpants down his legs. 
And oh dear lord is he a view. You admire him in his nakedness in the half lit room, drinking every inch of him. You can't stray your eyes from his cock, hard and leaking as you gulp and send a prayer to the sky, marvelling at his size.
Seungcheol crawls back into the bed, his movements akin to the grace of a panther, his eyes lit with ferocity and huger as he pins both your wrists over your head with one hand.
"I'm going to fuck you so good you will be ruined for any other man." He promises, giving you a delicious shiver on your spine. You want to scream that you don't need any other man, you never will but the thought dies in your mind when you feel his tip prodding at your core.  He slides in easily, almost embarrassingly easy as your sopping cunt welcomes him with wide open arms. A guttural groan escapes from his throat as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, spewing curses. The sound makes you clench around him which makes him curse again.
"You are so fucking tight, fuck!"
You can only respond in an incoherent hum as he starts moving inside you, making you throw your head back and let out a loud moan. He raises his head to look at you and your eyes contact and in a second, everything becomes more intense. The look in his eyes is ever captivating and ruthless while he pistons in and out of you tirelessly, hitting that sensitive spot inside you perfectly each time.
"You're going to be the death of me." He whispers, almost as if he's talking to himself. His mouth works on your jaw, moving down to your throat and sucking harshly on the soft flesh, making you shudder in pleasure. "Seungcheol!" You cry. "Harder! Please!"
"Any harder and I'll come right now."
"Do it! Come inside me!" All other thoughts and worries have left your mind and beg him for more, already cock drunk.
"Fuck, you sure?"
"I'm on pills, Cheol. I'm sure," you pant, clutching onto his back as he increases his pace, leaning back to sit on his knees as his hands move to your waist, holding you in a bruising grip.
"Gonna fill you up then, angel. Make this pussy bleed my come." He promises with a snark, his eyes trained on your face as he delivers one particular thrust that has you arching off the bed and seeing stars.
Then there is a brush of touch on your hard clit and a quiet command of coming which has fireworks exploding all throughout your body. You cry out, from pleasure and pain so addictive that white spots dance in your vision, hands twisting the fabric of the bedsheet so hard it would be no surprise if they tore.  The next moment you feel Seungcheol release inside you and the feeling of his warm cum coating your insides gives your body another round of shivers as you completely blank out. You are transported to a hazy place where you feel like you are floating through the air as you lose all sense of connection from this world.
It takes a while for you to recover and once you do, you realise Seungcheol has slumped over next to you as his breathing gradually returns to normal. You turn your head slightly to look at him and just as your eyes meet, he makes a move to get up.  Your hand immediately latches onto his arm. "Don't go." You croak.
"I need to clean you up." His voice is quiet.
"Later." You whisper, begging with your eyes. "Just lay with me for a while." He remains still for a moment, probably battling with himself before lying back next to you. He stretches one of his arms and you quickly use it as a pillow, shuffling closer to his body and resting your palm on his chest. Seungcheol tenses next to you but you don't let it get to you as your hand gently strokes an old scar right beneath his chest. Just as you are almost falling asleep, you feel his hand wrap around your waist, holding you softly and a smile graces your lips.
I love you, Choi Seungcheol.
— The next morning, Seungcheol starts avoiding you like you are the plague. As soon as you step out of your bedroom, Seungcheol, who was sitting in the living area quite literally bolts outside with his laptop and everything, throwing a curt good morning to you and not even sparing a glance.
You are hurt, to say the least. While a silly part of you expected that maybe you would wake up with him in the same bed and have breakfast together before some more lovemaking, the realistic part of you did not expect him to act like this. 
Like nothing happened.
Or worse, acting like what happened was a mistake.
Does he really think that last night was a mistake? 
It hurts to even think that he might believe that so you push that thought away with all your might. Instead, you focus on making yourself a nice breakfast before soaking in the tub for a while as you try to focus all your attention on plotting your uncles demise.
Once you are nice and clean after the soak, you find Seungcheol in the kitchen, drinking something from his mug as he talks over the phone with someone. You wait for him to finish, using the spare time to admire how good he looks— slightly messy hair, an old grey t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Once again, your mind travels to how good he railed you last night but before it can travel too far, you shake yourself back to the present.
"I need to talk to you." You announce as soon as he sets his phone down. Seungcheol's head snaps up to your voice and a grim expression settles on his face before he murmurs. 
"There's nothing to talk about. Last night was an accident. We were both vulnerable and it just... happened." It's like someone ripped your beating heart off of your chest or dumped you into a bucket of ice or better yet, did that together. Yet it still wouldn't hurt as much as his words pierce through you right now, leaving you utterly speechless as you just blink repeatedly, trying to make sure you heard that right. "It was not an accident, Seungcheol. You know it." Your voice is deathly quiet and you can feel yourself on the precipice of snapping.
"The hell it wasn't, _____." He snaps. "I am your fucking bodyguard and you are my client. I am not getting paid to take advantage of you!"
"Take advantage of me?" You seethe as an overwhelming urge to punch something, like his face, overcomes you. You have to take a deep breath in to form the next words. "I am not some helpless, pathetic girl that you can take advantage of. Whatever happened last night was real and with our consent. The man last night was the real you, the one you keep hiding, not this!" Seungcheol clenches his jaw, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Either way, it should not have happened. We, you and me—" he points between the two of you. "It does not work. It won't."
"Seungcheol— "
"That's enough _______."
"No, tell me. Enlighten me, please," Your voice drips with sarcasm as you take a step towards him, crossing your hands in front of your chest. "Why do we not work? What delightful, eye opening information has been revealed upon you which led you to this wise conclusion?" The twitch in his jaw clearly tells you that he does not appreciate your sarcasm but you've had enough of his stubbornness, especially when it is clear that he wants you as well.
"So far, I'll I've heard is that I can't have you not, I don't want you. Quit playing games with yourself Seungcheol!"
"I am a fucking loose grenade!" His scream is abrupt, making you jolt. The veins in his neck pop out as he steps back, his frantic eyes glaring at you. "I cannot keep you safe! Not from myself. I am a man whose past haunts him. I can't fucking sleep at night without getting nightmares and smashing things! I cannot pass a day without the guilt of my past following me! I am headed towards hell and I cannot drag you down with me. I am not the man for you, _____, try to understand!"
"I think that's for me to decide, no?" You take another step towards him, trying to calm him down.
"No!" He yells, stepping back. "Enough! Just— enough. This conversation is over. I'm going out and when I return, we will pretend that none of this ever happened."
"You fucking asshole!"  You normally do not curse.  Out loud at least. Your mother had a strict rule of no bad language and you and your brother followed that rule to a t. No matter what you have encountered so far in your life, nothing gave you the urge to curse half as much as you want to right now.
"That's right. I am an asshole." He states calmly, sparing you a blank look before turning and heading for the main door.
"You fucking son of a bitch! I did not want to talk about this in the first place! When I said I need to talk with you, I meant about my uncle, you idiot!"
He stops in his tracks before slowly turning his head to look at you. "What about him?" His calmness makes you absolutely livid and even though you try your hardest to form words, the only thing your tongue seems to want to utter are curse words.
"It doesn't concern you anymore, asswipe." Seungcheol's lips form a thin line as he watches you quietly for a few moments.
"Do not do anything stupid,_____." He has the nerve to order you before marching out of the house, slamming the door loudly behind him.
"Go to hell, dickhead!" —
The rest of the day is uneventful as you two mind your own business, avidly avoiding each other. After Seungcheol leaves and blesses you with solitude you pace around the house angrily before going for a walk in the forest behind the cabin.
It is not dense or uncomfortable as a walking trek has been premade and you take a long walk which helps you clear your head just a bit. It takes your mind off of your stubborn bodyguard and back onto your uncle as you think of ways to trap him in a position he cannot easily get out of, as early as possible. With the plan you have in mind, it proves to be a bit hard, because you are staying in the middle of nowhere and your uncle has no clue where you are.
You walk home an hour later with a less obscure mind and send Chan a text through the burner phone, letting him know that you are alive and well. 
Your brother video calls you soon after and you almost forget that you are supposed to be mute at the joy of seeing your brother. It kills you that you have to lie to him but you bite your teeth and do it, telling him that work got too overwhelming and you are taking some days off and promise him of your quick return. You know your brother is not stupid and he has started doubting you but he is kind enough not to push you for more, which you are grateful for.
Seungcheol returns home a little after noon with more supplies. You act like he does not exist as you finish your lunch and retire to your room where you spend the rest of the day, lying in your bed and staring at the ceiling, thinking about everything and nothing. As the skies bleed to dark, dinner time rolls around and you two eat separately. Once again, Seungcheol makes no attempt to talk to you or acknowledge you just like you are doing but it still infuriates you, which you try to control by doing copious amounts of yoga in your room, before finally falling asleep quite late.
However, disaster strikes with the arrival of dawn, as the first rays of sun kiss the sky. 
You are snapped out of sleep as you open your eyes and find Seungcheol hovering over you, shaking you awake.
"Wake up, _____! Your uncle is here. He found us!"
Immediately you bolt upright, half thinking that all this is a vivid dream. As your panicked eyes meet his, your shaky hands clutching his biceps and you whisper. "W-what? How? I- I don't understand."
"I don't know either." Seungcheol grunts, craning his neck to look out the window. "There are two jeeps heading towards us. You need to get out."
As if on cue, you hear the loud roar of the engines as they come to a stop right in front of the cabin. Seungcheol helps your shaky form out of bed and ushers you down the stairs. 
"Take the back exit. Hide in the forest until I come for you. If I don't, call Jihoon for help. His number is here. And take this." he explains, handing his burner phone and a gun to you but your brain is stuck in a loop, not processing that there is a fucking gun in your hand.
"What do you mean if I don't? You are coming with me—"
"No. I will hold them off while you escape. Go, now." He orders, pushing you towards the back door of the kitchen. 
"_____! I know you're in there! Come out while I am being nice and maybe we can come to an agreement! You do not want to end up like your mother, do you now?" Your body freezes as you hear your uncle yell from the front door. The anger evoked from his words makes you want to stay and confront him but Seungcheol keeps pushing you, telling you to run.
And so, sparing one last longing look at Seungcheol, you tuck your weapon in your waist and run. You have not gotten even fifty feet away from the cabin when the first round of shots echo through the air. Your blood freezes as you come to a halt, turning your head around to look at the cabin as gunshots echo through the air.
You have to swallow a lump in your throat as tears gather in your eyes, the temptation to go back increasing. But you know going back is not a good idea because it will put Seungcheol's life at risk, more than it already is. So you keep moving deeper into the forest, the treks familiar because you have been here before and you make your way through very easily. When you come across a small cliff shrouded by thick bushes you decide to hide there, waiting to see if your uncle's men come around here. Confirming your guess, they do, after a while as they jog through, looking around for you. However, they fail to estimate your hiding place and continue deeper into the forest down the trek and just then, an idea forms in your head.
You have to go back.
The universe is on your side because you realise after some peeking around and shuffling through trees that there is another road that you can use to go back to the cabin. This one is definitely unused and riskier but you are determined to make this work. So, with a deep breath you jog through the narrow, muddy lane and soon enough, you find your way back.
The cabin is now quiet, eerily so.
The back door remains open, granting you access and you carefully step one foot in, holding your breath. 
It is a mess; bullet holes scattered around, a few bodies slumped on the ground, specks of blood all over the floor. The scene is bone chilling and you have to take several deep breaths to calm down. You can hear noises coming from somewhere in the house, grunts and yells, as if people are fighting, which is what is undoubtedly happening. No matter how severe your urge is to follow the sound and make sure Seungcheol is okay, you decide against it, putting faith in his capabilities instead and sending a prayer out to heaven. Careful not to step on any blood, you make your way through the mess and gingerly climb up the stairs, pausing to make sure no one is around. The coast is clear, thankfully, as no one is upstairs and you head straight for the little storeroom next to the bedroom, where you kept the very little belongings you brought with you.
You took special care to hide your prized possession, the evidence file. It stays secure inside a special compartment Seungcheol showed you that is situated under the wooden floor. Quickly removing the carpet, you open the hatch and look inside to make sure the files are there.
And they are, thankfully. Picking them up, you hold them to your chest and close the hatch, putting everything in its place while holding your breath through all of it. In the next second, the voice you dreaded echoes through the air.
"I believe I am going to need that, _____." 
You whip your head back to see your dear uncle standing at the door frame, lips twisted in a diabolic smirk like he got you just where he wanted to.  "I knew you would lead me to the evidence, niece. I just had to wait. And I knew you would contact your dear little brother no matter what so I put a little tracker on his phone and it led me here. Easy, no?" He shakes his head,  laughing cockily at his plan.
Your blood runs cold as your fingers grip the envelope tightly.
"Over my dead body." You hiss.
"Oh yeah, and my men told me you could speak?" He taunts, shaking his head some more. "Can you imagine my surprise when I heard that? Tell me, were you faking it all along? To what, get some pity points?"
"You will rot in jail, asshole. I will personally see to it." You seethe, clutching the folder tighter against your chest.  Your uncle's face loses its amusement as he stares at you for a while, cold and unblinking before reaching back and pulling out a gun. Your heart skips a beat as he points it right at you.
"The file, ______. I am not here to play games."
"Never." There is an immediate deafening noise of gunfire, making you squeeze your eyes shut and for a horrible moment, you think he has shot you. Opening your eyes, you see there's a hole in the roof where he has aimed his gun before pointing it back at you.
"Don't make me kill you like your mother. I need you alive for all the other plans I have."
"She was your sister in law!" You cry.
"She was a thorn in my way!" He seethes. "A conniving bitch trying to take the company from me and my son! Always challenging me! Always speaking against me!"
"It was never yours to begin with, you ugly old man! She knew you would steal it from us!"
"I dare you to speak one more word and the next bullet will be in your hand and the one after that will be in your leg. I won't do the mercy of killing you, _____. I will put you through hell on earth before I grant you the freedom of death." He sneers, eyes fueled with hatred. You swallow, your breath coming out in heavy pants as you decide on what to do next. 
Finally, with a defeated sigh you raise your arms in surrender and take a small, tiny step towards him, trying to appear as meek and harmless as possible. "You could have not killed her. You could have sent her away if she was a problem." You whisper, voice cracking. "Huh," he scoffs. "As if that bitch would listen. The only way was to get rid of her. For good. I knew she would be in the car with you that day and I planned to kill two birds with one stone but alas, that didn't happen" He shrugs, pouting. "It's alright, though. I know how to use it in my favour. I have so many plans for you. You're gonna come with me and sign off—"
"Drop the gun, Jin."
Seungcheol!
It is Seungcheol, pointing his Glock at the back of Jin's head as he appears behind him all of a sudden. You are flooded with gratitude so big tears come to your eyes and hope flares in your chest seeing him alive, hurt and dishevelled but alive. However, your hope is quick to die down when Jin speaks the next words.
"You sure you wanna do that, son?" Your uncle remains unaffected as he slightly turns his head, his words directed to Seungcheol. "You pull the trigger and by the time it has hit me I can pull the trigger as well and her brains will be splattered all over these walls. You don't want that, do you? Besides, I know as a matter of fact your boss here wants me alive. She has grand plans for me, is that not right, _____?"
His eyes pan back to you, the evilest of smiles on his face as you grit your teeth, trying to keep yourself from doing anything rash.
You underestimated your uncle for sure.
"Drop the gun, son. I won't say it again." He orders, taking a menacing step towards you. "You drop it and nobody gets hurt. I need this bitch alive for everything I have planned." Seungcheol's eyes meet yours and the helplessness and frustration is visible in them. You watch with bated breath as he slowly points the gun away from Jin's head and sets it down on the ground, raising his hands in surrender. A satisfied smile sets on your uncle's face and he lets his guard down for a moment, a fraction of a second, which Seungcheol takes advantage of.  In the blink of an eye, Seungcheol jumps on him, grabbing his legs and dragging him down onto the floor. His grip on the gun falters, letting it fall on the floor and as he makes a move to reach for it, Seungcheol kicks it to the farthest corner of the room.
A scuffle between them ensues and Seungcheol tries to overpower Jin and pin him down onto the floor. However, your uncle, the master of playing dirty, manages to pull a switchblade from his pocket and slashes Seungcheol on the arm, making him fall off of him. "I'm gonna fucking gut you, you son of a bitch!" He yells, charging for Seungcheol as he pins him down, aiming the blade towards his throat but Seungcheol stops him with a practised move. An intense battle of power ensues but you've had enough as you reach  for the gun Seungcheol gave you, tucked at your waistband.
Pointing it straight at Jin's head, you yell. "Drop the knife, Jin! I really don't want to kill you!"
"You don't have the balls to shoot me, bitch!" He yells back, not even glancing at you, busy subduing Seungcheol as he stabs him in the shoulder. That motherfucker!
He underestimated you greatly.
Furious, you pull the trigger and the bullet lands right where you aimed it, Jin's knee. With a howl of pain, he falls off of Seungcheol who quickly gets back up and wraps an arm around his throat in a chokehold.
"You filthy little bitch! You fucking —"
Seungcheol tightens the grip on his neck and after struggling for a few moments, Jin passes out, making you sigh in relief as you step back and lean against the wall. "You shot him." Seungcheol's voice is laced with bewilderment as he watches you with a look of surprise and admiration. "Self defence," you shrug, closing your eyes and inhaling a deep breath. "Tie him up. I'll call the police."
— Fifteen minutes later the cops arrive with blaring sirens followed by an ambulance. 
As soon as the ambulance comes to a stop, you are dragging Seungcheol towards it, yelling at the staff to get a look at his shoulder, around which you have wrapped a cloth to lessen the bleeding. As a responder attends to Seungcheol's injury, two policemen rush into the house when you tell them that the culprit is tied up inside. 
You stand out front with your arms crossed, the morning sun now high in the sky, the warm rays caressing your face as you watch your uncle being dragged out of the house and into one of the police cars. He is yelling and cursing his complaints, his eyes filled with hatred as they come in contact with yours. 
Your body goes rigid, the revelation coming upon you that he is done for and he knows it. You know he is definitely going to deny everything but he has another surprise coming his way.
An officer comes to you, talking about the next procedures and asking basic questions but you cannot quite register his words as your body finally gets off the high of adrenaline and realisation hits you like a bulldozer, it's over.
It is over. You got him. 
I got him, Mom. I will make him pay.
Seungcheol, who sits at the back of the ambulance while a nurse gives his shoulder a temporary fix, listens to the officer carefully, answering his questions in your place before thanking him as he takes his leave. 
"Are you okay?" Seungcheol's uninjured hand comes up to gently touch your arm, making you jump as you are snapped out of your reverie.
"Would you like me to look at you, ma'am? The responder offers as she takes off her gloves. "You look pale." You shake your head, swallowing as you wrap your arms around yourself. Seungcheol gives your hand a tug, making you sit next to him.  "Please take a look at her." He says to the nurse, who nods while he shrugs off the blanket sitting on his shoulder and wraps it around yours with his free hand. 
"Breathe, _____." He speaks softly, his hand holding yours. You nod, focusing on your breath for the next few minutes as the nurse does a quick check up on you. There are a lot of unshed tears within you and a lot of emotions you need to let out but you just cannot bring yourself to do that right now. There is this numb feeling all over you accompanied by an overwhelmingness.
And you know very well the war isn't over just yet. You have to make sure your uncle ends up behind bars. Even though you have some control over your emotions right now, you remember that you have to explain every hideous detail to Chan and you know will break down then. You know you will break down again when you visit your mother's grave but you know this time, you will feel less guilty of being the only one surviving, less in agony because you have avenged her.
"I have called my lawyer. He's preparing all the documents. We should head home now." You speak, eyes staring at the sun shining over the hills and the lush greenery.
This place is magical. You want to come here again, someday.
"Okay," Seungcheol agrees as his hand comes to rest over yours and he gives you a reassuring squeeze. Your eyes pan back to his face, littered with cuts before settling on his shoulder.  You open your mouth to scold him for getting hurt when he sighs. "What were you thinking, _____? I told you not to come back to the cabin. Your uncle had you just where he wanted. You could have been seriously hu—
"I had a plan, Seungcheol."
"What plan?" He looks annoyed. A soft smile graces your lips as your hand travels to the front pocket of your shirt. You pick the pen sitting there and hand it to Seungcheol with a mischievous smile. Frowning, he examines the item carefully until it dawns on him as his eyes widen. "This has a camera!"
"Yep! It can record audio and video very clearly. I had it on me for a while and as I was hiding in the forest I suddenly realised that I couldn't get better proof against my uncle than right then. So I went back to be the bait."
"Still, you don't realise how risky—"
"Trust me, I do. But I had no option. Besides, my gut told me that my uncle really didn't want to kill me unless he had to because after everything that happened, I was more valuable to him alive than dead." Seungcheol stares at you, all a loss for words before shaking his head in disbelief. 
"Wanna know something more fun?"
"What?" He is wary. "The documents I hid? They are not the real ones!" You cannot hold back a laugh as Seungcheol looks as you, more perplexed than before.
"I mean, come on! I'm not that stupid! I wouldn't carry them with me knowing my uncle is looking for them! I hid the original files in Chan's safe after I had him promise me not to touch them."
"Wow…" Seungcheol shakes his head in utter disbelief as he tries to wrap his head around everything. "Still, if I hadn't come for you on time…"
"I knew you would, Seungcheol. I believed that deep in my heart." You whisper, fingers lacing with his as your eyes meet. Seungcheol swallows and looks away, blinking. With a soft sigh, you stand up. "Are you sure you can travel this long in the car? Should I call in a helicopter for you?" Seungcheol rolls his eyes, standing up as well. "It's a fucking graze, _____. I have had way worse and I survived. I will be fine. I already feel fine." Your eyes narrow at him and you want to reprimand him but you cannot find it in your heart to do so. With a sigh, you usher him towards the car. "Let's go then. I'll drive."
— The next 48 hours pass by in the blink of an eye as you go through the most hectic time of your life. 
The first thing you do upon entering the city is sit down with your lawyer for a detailed discussion on the next steps you are going to take and hand the video recording to him. After that you ask Chan to come over to your place where you explain everything to him from a to z. It proves to be one of the worst moments of your life as you watch your brother's face pale with every word you utter and by the time you finish explaining everything he goes as still as a statue before abruptly taking his leave.
The next day you are asked to give a statement to the police along with Seungcheol which takes quite a while as you explain everything in detail. During that time the news breaks about your uncle getting arrested and charged for both murder and attempted murder leading to a flock of reporters chasing you down wherever you go. 
The stocks of the company are also affected as a side effect of the scandal and you have to spend a good amount of time in the office as you try to reassure everyone and get everything under control with your business partners.
On the third day after Jin's arrest, the police officially read out all the charges against him and announce the dates of the trials which sends the press into a second round of frenzy as they try to get your opinion on it, mobbing you whenever you step outside.
Your father is also taken in for questioning where he, thankfully, admits to his crimes and then he is also arrested with the charge of withholding information. He claims that his brother was blackmailing him so he had to keep the murder a secret. Whatever his reason was, you do not care anymore.
You refrain from engaging with the press as much as possible, other than the press conference arranged by your company that you had to attend but you do not make any comments about your uncle or father, just announcing that they will be punished accordingly and you and your brother will do your utmost best to protect the company. 
Amid all of this, Seungcheol refuses to leave your side, even with his injured shoulder. 
The wound was not deep but he was advised not to move the shoulder too much, an instruction he didn't pay any heed to when he was protecting you from the fleet of reporters. Taking it a step further than that, he called his friend over from the agency, the man called Jihoon, to be your second bodyguard because he believed that he was not functioning at his best.
Overall, it turns out to be a crazy, sleep deprived but exciting few days as you see all the pieces of the puzzle fall into its rightful place.
What is not exciting, however, is the straining relationship between you and your brother. After your confession to everything, he grows quieter and avoids talking with you unless it's absolutely necessary, which you understand and respect. He is processing the murder of his mother and his family members' participation in it and you also understand he feels betrayed because you kept so much information from him.
Still, it hurts.
This is why it is a surprise when you see him walk through the double doors to your office on a weekday morning as you were going through the legal statements of the company. "Chan!" You gasp, rising from your chair, eyes wide open in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
He gives a half hearted shrug before sitting down on the couch by the floor to ceiling windows, his gaze focused on the skyline.  "I had some things to tell you." Okay... You chew on your lip as you walk over to him and take a seat in front of him. You watch your brother stare off into the distance out the window before he finally heaves a long sigh and looks at you. The sadness and exhaustion are clear in his eyes and it breaks your heart. This whole media circus has not been easy for him either, especially because he knew nothing of what was going on and the press attacked him like a bunch of piranhas.
"The week has been crazy for you." He states, matter of factly. 
You give him a small, sad smile. "Same goes for you."
"Yes. I am feeling a lot of emotions together however..." he stops for a second before boring his gaze at your eyes. "I cannot help but feel betrayed."
"Oh Chan—"
"No, it's okay." He holds up his hand, stopping you. "I know that was not your intention and it is not your fault. It is none of our fault. I feel betrayed by this... family, this situation. I feel so angry that all of this happened right under my nose and I—" he huffs, dragging a hand through his hair as his voice fades. "I knew nothing about it."
"It is not your fault."
"It kind of is." He grunts. "I...I should have been more careful, more aware—"
"You couldn't have prevented it, Chan. It would only get you hurt in the process."
"Exactly! It would and that's how it should be. We're a team, you and I. So I should be equally responsible but only you got hurt in this process. You have been carrying all this burden with you since the accident. Not to mention the crazy stunt at the cabin. Are you insane, _____? I saw the video and he had a gun for fucks sake!"
"So did I!" You admonish. "Besides, he wasn't going to shoot me."
"You couldn't be sure!"
You drag out a sigh in surrender as you admire your brother for a silent moment as he suddenly reminds you of Seungcheol. "Whatever it was, it's in the past and I am safe now. However, I am sorry. For lying to you, for keeping you in the dark."
"Yes, I am actually quite mad at you for acting mute in front of me." He narrows his gaze at your face. 
"Well at least you learned sign language because of it!"
He snorts and you chuckle, a more comfortable silence falling between the two of you as you stare at each other for a while with melancholic smile on your faces. After a while, he announces, "I am going away for a while."
"What? Where?" You gasp.
"I don't know where, actually. Somewhere with a beach and lots of sunshine maybe. Away from…here." He smiles faintly. "I just...I need to be away for a while and process everything and simply be in my own company. I just need some time, sis." Tears shine in your eyes. "I understand." You whisper.  You really do but it still pains you because you feel responsible for breaking his heart.
"Take all the time you need. I'll handle the business while you are gone."
"Good. I know you will manage it well, maybe even better than me," he gives you a smile, a real one that reflects the shine in his eyes and you mirror it back. He stands up, buttoning his suit jacket. "Oh, by the way, what is going on between you and your hunk of a bodyguard?"
"Hm? What do you mean?" You feign innocence, avoiding his gaze, surprised at his observation. "Oh please." He gives you an it-is-very-obvious look. "The chemistry between you two has been explosive from day one. You always have that dreamy look in your eyes when you look at him."
"I do not!" You gasp. "Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night." He shakes his head in mirth. You huff out a dejected breath of surrender. "It doesn't matter anyway. He doesn't want me."
"Should I beat him up?" He asks casually, making you snort.
"You would lose, you know." You roll your eyes. That makes him laugh before he takes a step towards you. "I would deprive you of a hug but since you are already heartbroken, come here." 
You immediately get up and wrap your arms around your brother in a tight hug. You sniff, holding back tears as he pats you in the back, and you whisper. "I will miss you. Text me every now and then."
"Will do," he promises with a smile, pulling back and squeezing your shoulder. As he starts walking, he yells over his shoulder, "Do not think of getting married to that hunk while I'm not here though!"
"Yes, sir!" Rolling your eyes, you yell back and watch him walk out the double doors before plopping back on the couch, an eerie feeling of emptiness settling in your chest.
It takes a while for you to realise that tears are streaming down your face. Upon realisation, you simply hang your head low, letting them flow and stare at the floor, vision blurry as you play back the events of the last 6 months in your head. 
A soft knock at the door makes you snap your head up, breaking your trance as you quickly swipe your fingers below your eyes, head turning to see who enters. 
It's Seungcheol, composed in poise and grace as he steps inside before coming to a stand beside you. Silently, he asks for permission to sit, something you have told him multiple times not to do and when you give him a nod he takes a seat opposite to you. "You have been crying," he states quietly as he regards you with a knotted brow. You sigh and blink a couple of times before asking. "I'm fine now. What's the update? Any problems?"
He shakes his head. "Things are under good so far. You still need to give a formal statement at the fundraisers event next week, so you have to prepare for that."
"Hmm," you nod. "What brings you here, then? Are you feeling okay? I told you to take a day..." Your voice fades as you watch him produce a white rectangular envelope from his pocket and push it towards you on the table.
You have a sinking feeling in your chest that it is a resignation letter. 
"I am submitting my letter of resignation." He says, as calmly as ever, his eyes straight on yours. Your mouth opens but fails to deliver the words as you tilt your head to the side, processing this action. 
You have no problem with him resigning. In fact, you had planned to fire him after this hellish week ends so that you two could have a discussion about where your relationship stands, without all these professional restrictions limiting you. However, knowing Seungcheol, you have a sinking suspicion that he isn't quitting so that he can address his feelings for you but so that he can escape. 
Still, you decide to feign ignorance.
"Good. I was planning on firing you anyway. Not that you were bad at your job, you were the best but you need to rest, Seungcheol. And I have Jihoon now so I'll be fine." You nod as you pretend to go through his letter but inside, your hearts thuds so loudly you are afraid it will burst. 
"As of today, I am relieving you of your duties, Choi Seungcheol." You offer him a shaky smile. Seungcheol nods, his face as impassive as ever and you just cannot tell if he is heartbroken or relieved. His body language tells you that he is ready to get up and leave but you do not let that happen so easily.
"Now we can finally talk about our relationship." You speak, trying to keep your voice as stable as possible. Seungcheol visibly tenses as his face loses some of its colour and immediately you know this is not going to end well. 
But you are adamant on seeing this through.
"There is nothing to talk about." His voice is quiet, almost inaudible as he sits there looking like a petulant child lying to his parents. You have to take a deep breath to compose yourself. 
"You can do many things, Seungcheol but you cannot lie to me." You keep your voice as gentle as you can.
Your ex bodyguard seems to agree as he lets out a dejected sigh and stares at the floor very attentively. You watch him with intent for a few long moments, giving him time but ultimately when he remains as stubborn and unmoving as a mule, you break the silence. 
"I will lay all my cards on the table, Seungcheol, since you can't seem to do that. I have feelings for you, Seungcheol. Feelings that are very, very deep and real and I'm willing to act on them. Do what is necessary to make this work— make us work." 
He is quick to disagree. "Those feelings that you talk about, they are not love, ____. It is temporary. The last few weeks have been intense and it's just your body's natural reaction —"
"Do you love me, Choi Seungcheol?" You interrupt him, looking him straight in the eye.  The man looks like he swallowed a sock and you would feel bad for him, maybe even laugh at his reaction if the situation was not so dire.
"It does not matter." He looks away. You have the urge to hurl something at his head; the lamp next to you seems very tempting, but you fight it by clenching your fists a few times, trying to put yourself in his shoes.
"Seungcheol, I heard you that day in the cabin. I hear you now and I completely understand your fears. But I am here and we will work through them. It will take time but I'm ready, no matter how long it takes. I just want you, Seungcheol, and it kills me because I know you want me too yet you keep punishing yourself."
By now you have learned to read the man well and what might be easily overlooked by others comes into your notice; like how he clenches his fists and how his Adams apple bobs as he heavily swallows. The look in his eyes is that of a pure battle, one that he is fighting against himself and it's hard to watch. You are about to stand up and hold his hand when he suddenly moves onto his feet, his posture rigid as he glares down at you.
"I do not want you. What happened at the cabin was a mere moment of weakness. And you don't want me either, ______. You will soon realize it."
This gaslighting asshole!
"So you are going to lie to yourself till the very end?" You hiss, standing up and stepping closer to him, meeting his eyes with an equal glare.  "If anyone is lying to themselves here, it is you." He spits. "Our relationship was supposed to be professional from the start. I am a bodyguard and you are merely one of my protectees. Let us end it that way." He takes a step back while you watch him with a flabbergasted expression at his audacity. He uses your moment of weakness to say. "It was nice working with you. Hopefully, you won't need me again. Goodbye, Ms. Lee." The next moment he is pushing past you as his footsteps echo on the cold marble floor, the sound similar to that of your heart as it cracks.
"If you walk away now, I will never forgive you, Seungcheol!" You yell, voice cracking as tears gather in your eyes, your gaze focused outside the window, your back facing him. No reaction comes from behind you except for the footsteps which come to a halt. 
"Do you really want to end it like this?" Your whisper is followed by silence but through the eerie quietness in the room, you know the words reach him well.
His reply comes a few seconds later, in the form of footsteps that echo farther and farther away from you followed by the sound of the door opening and then closing and then utter silence. —
The fundraiser's event is going in full swing, bustling with people when you arrive. Draped in a red silk dress and diamond jewellery you look like a million bucks but in reality you feel nothing like that and you have no desire to be here whatsoever. But you know it is necessary to make an appearance as the host because it is extremely important to show up after the scandal to assure everyone that things are going well. Except they are not. While your professional life has slowly started getting back to its normal place your personal life has plummeted because all that you have done in the past week is mope around and curse your ex bodyguard and bitch about him to your current one, Jihoon.
The best way you can describe Jihoon is a grumpy cat. He talks very little but whenever he does, he's always huffing and complaining. But you see his softer side peek through from the little acts he does for you like making sure you eat your meals properly, checking up on you after your crying session and preparing all your documents and briefing you every morning. His tsundere antics and his silent company have probably been the only driving force that has kept you sane after Seungcheol dumped you.
The event is taking place in a banquet hall in the city centre and once inside, Jihoon guides you to a private resting room where you get ready for the opening speech. "I don't think I will stay till dinner. It is okay I leave after the speech, no?" You ask Jihoon as you finish revising the script. "Maybe mingle with people a little bit. Behave like a human instead of a broken hearted ghost" he offers, his tone dry as usual. You sigh and shake your head at his reply as you smooth your dress and step forward, waiting for the emcee to call you on stage.
Once on stage, you stand behind the podium, the tireless flashes from the cameras giving you a headache and you have to try your very best to plaster a smile on your face as you greet the guests and start your speech. Jihoon stands a few feet away from you on the stage, his eyes scanning the crowd carefully as he receives constant updates in his Bluetooth. However, not even two minutes into your speech, a man causes commotion as he tries to get on the stage, yelling some nonsense about how you are a fraud and a money launderer. You are baffled as you watch the security planted at the perimeter of the stage get a hold of him and drag him out while whispers and murmurs echo among the guests.
"He looks drunk," Jihoon says as he steps close to you to make sure you are alright. "Ignore him. He shouldn't have been allowed inside. I will have a talk with—" He pauses midway in his sentence as his eyes focus on something behind you, on the other side of the stage, his pupils widening. You can barely process the change in his expression before he tugs you away and shields you with his body as you two roll off the stage.
The next moment, an explosion echoes through the air. There is a ringing in your ears as Jihoon covers you, the echoes of the blast intensifying the headache you already had. You feel disoriented as Jihoon helps you to stand up and ushers you towards the resting room backstage while you hear screams echoing from the guests, their heavy footsteps scattering all over. "Wha- what is going on?" You cry, confused as Jihoon shoves you inside the room. "It is your cousin, Jun."  What!
"Lock the door. His men have blocked the exits. I need to clear them before I come get you. Do not open this door, is that clear?" He orders you and before you can form a reply, he is gone. Confused, scared and exhausted, you fall onto the ground, head in your hands as you fail to wrap your head around the situation. Of course, you knew your cousin was sour after his father's arrest but you never thought he would go this far. What is he thinking? What does he want?
You hear commotion spread outside, things crashing and even a few gunshots. As you step closer to the door to get a better listen there is a loud bang, as if someone is trying to break in.
Absolutely terrified, you step back, frantic eyes looking around the small space for a weapon.
If you knew the night would end up like this you would have brought a fucking gun with you.
Speaking of guns, a gunshot echoes through the air, making you duck your head as you scream. Another gunshot rings through the air and you realise whoever is on the other side is trying to come inside.
You can only pray it is not your fucking cousin, who is a maniac, apparently.
A broad, mean looking thug bursts through the door just as it opens and when his eyes land on you, he points his gun at your head. "Do not think of doing anything smart, woman. If you don't want me to blow your face off, you do as I fucking tell you to." Swallowing, you nod, holding your hands up in surrender.
So this is how it goes down, huh.
The man produces a handcuff from his pocket and tosses it towards you. "Put it on your hands! Now!" With shaky hands, you pick it up and just as you are about to fasten it around one of your wrists, there is a gunshot. You are sure you have been shot as you shut your eyes tight but start to think otherwise when seconds pass and you still feel your heartbeat.
Peeking open one eye you see the thug slumped over on the floor, a clean bullet hole on the back of his head. And in the doorframe, stands Seungcheol, a gun in his hand.
Choi Seungcheol.
Wait, what? How?
Your brain is struggling to catch up as you blink again and again to make sure of his presence. Indeed, he stands there, dressed in a black suit and tie, specks of red on his white shirt as he pants heavily.
What on god's green earth—
"Come on, you need to get out!" He yells, stepping inside the room, reaching for your hand and dragging you outside with him.  You cannot get a word out as you let him lead you, absolutely thunderstruck because of his sudden presence.
What the fuck is he doing here? How did he even know what was going on?
You are so baffled that you cannot speak these thoughts out, simply following him as he carefully guides you towards the exit, his gun drawn in alertness. Just as the backyard of the venue comes into view and Seungcheol is about to usher you outside, you hear a voice yelling from the other side of the hall.
It is your cousin's voice. "Let me go you fucking assholes! I am gonna blow that bitch myself! I am gonna tear her up into fucking pieces! How dare she take what is mine! That's slut! I am gonna…" 
Seungcheol almost pushes you to move as you get stuck in a trance of his mean words. "It is okay, Jihoon has him. Come on."
As if you are functioning on autopilot, you let him guide you outside into the open field and underneath a small sitting area where fresh air finally hits you, letting you breathe in a lungful. Seungcheol informs the other security about the update over his comms as you watch him in silence. When he is done, his eyes finally meet yours and in an instant everything that had gone down in the last month flashes through your head, giving you goosebumps. 
There is a moment of silence as you watch him with a blank expression while he looks around uncomfortably. Finally, he decides to break the silence with a chuckle. "I leave you for a few days and this is what happens?" 
His tone is full of amusement. The nerve of this man. You, however, find none of this amusing. It gets your blood boiling as you hear him say the words, your brain finally registering everything and you simply cannot hold yourself back anymore. The next thing you do is strike a clean, sharp slap on his cheek which catches him off guard as he stumbles a few steps back. His eyes widen in shock, his hand moving to cup the cheek which is turning bright red, like your palm.
You poured your heart and soul and all your pent up emotions into that slap so you pray it stings like a bitch.
Your hand does for sure.
"I deserved that-" Seungcheol starts to speak, holding up his hands but the moment he opens his mouth you are on him again as you grab him by the collars, triggered, "How dare you come here, you scum!" You hiss, tugging at the fabric of his collars while a bewildered Seungcheol tries to gently pry you off of him. "How dare you have the audacity to show up after everything you said?"
"_____, you are gonna hurt yourself—"
"You quit! You made it clear that you had no interest in me, Seungcheol! So what gives you the right to come here and save me, huh?" You are seething, emotions so strong you feel like choking and if you were a cartoon character, visible steam would be coming out of your ears.
"_____, please—"
"Who gave you the right to be a hero, huh? What made you come here? Tell me! Talk, you asshole!" You yell, shaking him, tugging on his collars repeatedly as a wild rage takes over you.
You are going to murder him.
"Because I am in love with you!" He yells back, making your grip falter for a second which he uses to quickly free himself, taking a few steps back as you stare wide eyed at him, panting.
When you finally get enough air in your lungs and process his words, really process them, your wry laugh echoes through the cold night air like mockery. "Fuck you, Seungcheol. I have had enough of your bullshit." You spit, pushed to your limits.
God, give me patience.
"I know," he whispers, taking a step closer while you take one back. "I understand what I have done and I do not expect you to forgive me at all. I just need you to know that I fucking love you and I am so fucking sorry. I know I am late but I am here to stay—"
"No you are not," You snap. "Get the hell away from me before I take a gun and fucking shoot you." 
"If that's what will make you happy..." Seungcheol calmly reaches for his gun as you watch him, alarmed. He takes it off of the holster and holds it out towards you. "Shoot me as many times as you want. I deserve it.
This fucking man—
"Guys, can we do this weird foreplay somewhere else," Jihoon yells from behind you as you spin to see him jogging towards you two. "You need to get out of here, _____. He's saying that there are still explosives in this compound."
"What!" You shriek but before you can get another word out, Seungcheol is grabbing your hand and dragging you with him as he starts sprinting. "Keep me updated," he addresses Jihoon who nods, talking into the comm to get a car at the rear entrance for you.
"Let go, you asshole!" You hiss, trying to pry his fingers off your wrist which proves to be a challenge while running full speed in high heels. "God damn it, Seungcheol, I will fall!" And you almost do so, as you misstep and stumble but the man is quick to catch you and before you can even think, he is throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.  "Put me down, you pig!"
"As soon as we get to the car, angel."
Which is quick, thankfully, because the next moment he is putting you down and holding the passenger side door open for you and despite wanting to resist him, you know the wise idea is to leave right now.  As soon as you are inside the car, he shuts the door before running to the other side and before you can even put your seatbelt on, the car is moving.
"Jihoon will be fine, right?" You ask half mindedly as you turn your head back to look at the venue which gets smaller every passing second. "He will be fine," Seungcheol grunts. "The police have been informed as well as the bomb disposal team." "What about my cousin?" Seungcheol remains quiet for a moment, only staring ahead on the road. "Him? He's  alive, unfortunately."
"What do you mean?" You ask warily.
"I shot him. The bullet hit his abdomen. He won't die, don't worry. That depraved asshole doesn't deserve that mercy." You sigh, rubbing your temples as you lean back into your seat. "What the hell was he thinking?"
"He wanted to hurt you, humiliate you, _____. He had plans to hurt you horribly." Seungcheol huffs out a breath, shaking his head and clenching his jaw. "He has gone insane." That is all he provides, making you fall silent for a moment. "When will this stop." You whisper to yourself. "I never considered him to be a threat."
"I should have. You locked up his father and made sure he could never take over the company. He was a huge threat that I failed to notice." He murmurs.
"Don't start, Seungcheol," you snap at him, irritated. "I'm still tempted to shoot you. Your duty was over the moment you handed in the resignation letter and walked out of my life."
"My biggest mistake." He whispers to himself but you hear it. 
Tired, frustrated, scared and angry, you decide not to engage in this conversation further as you look out the window and wonder what is coming next.  Another media storm for sure.  More interrogations, more meetings with your lawyer.  At the same time, however, the edge that you have been feeling for the last week is gone. The fact that your cousin never came up to you or tried to retaliate his father's arrest in any way made you wonder but it never occurred to you that he could turn violent, insane. 
Jun was after all a puppet, who only did things after his father made the way for him his whole life.
Today was a different case, it looks like. Anyhow, it is somewhat of a win for you because you miraculously got out unscathed and the threat has been neutralised. However, you are sure many have been injured and your reputation has taken a severe hit today. The upcoming months will be very hard, harder than before…
The next coherent thought that comes upon you is that you fell asleep. You open your eyes realising that the car has stopped and the time on the dashboard says about thirty minutes have passed. Blinking, you shift in your seat and find Seungcheol, sitting next to you, watching you with a look that is foreign on his face, something close to adoration. Clearing your throat, you remove your seatbelt and sit up straight.
"How long was I asleep?"
"Not long enough. We just got here." He announces as he moves to open his door. "Come on, let's go inside."
Once you are out of the car, you realise Seungcheol has taken you to a five star hotel and seeing the confusion on your face, he explains. "It's safer here. Can't take any more risks tonight."
He casually slips his hand into yours, making you frown and drags you towards the hotel. Your tired body cannot put up much of a fight so you follow him begrudgingly and you are quickly escorted to the penthouse suite thanks to his prior booking.
Upon entering the suite you walk straight to the master bedroom where the king sized bed calls for your tired self as you sit down and take off your heels, throwing them away on the carpet over the floor with a soft thud, exhaling a loud sigh. Seungcheol follows you and remains quiet as you sit in silence at the edge of the bed, too wired, too disoriented to do anything. Normally, after everything that happened with your uncle your decision making skills have significantly sharpened but having Seungcheol near you, his stupid confession ringing in your head is fucking with your brain. And as if that goddamn man can read your mind, he kneels in front of you on the floor, one of his hands softly touching your knees as he utters. "You need to rest, ______. I will handle everything else. It is all under control now, trust me."
"Why do you do this?" You croak, pushed to the limits of exhaustion, your eyes trained somewhere in an unfocused gaze as you fidget with your hands. "Why do you push me away and then come back running at a time like this?"
He is silent for a long time while you fight to keep your tears at bay.
You will not cry in front of him.
"I am sorry." He only whispers, his fingers softly stroking your knee as his head lowers and his gaze falls down on the floor. "I was foolish and...scared. That night after we slept together you…you said out loud you loved me and I panicked. I was— I am a danger to you. But being away from you for a week was a pain unlike anything else. I went back to that cabin and I slept in your bed and the sheets had the faintest of your smell. Weirdly, your scent and everything you left behind soothed me and I didn't have any nightmares in the past week. But every morning I woke up and there was a sinking feeling in my stomach that only grew each day until I couldn't bear it. I realised that you really were an angel who saved me, brought lightness back into my life, and gave me a new purpose, a new dream. I realised what an idiot I was and I came to the city on Wednesday night. Believe me when I tell you that my intention was to just stay away and make sure you are okay. I knew what I had done and I was in no way worthy of showing up in front of you but I had to intervene tonight, _____. Your life was in danger."
The air conditioner in your room suddenly feels chillier as goosebumps prickle your skin, making you shiver. Seungcheol takes notice of it and stands up quickly to take off his jacket before draping it over your shoulders. He stands in front of you in silence, fingers hovering over your now covered shoulders while you stare at his shoes, your head going blank but also running a mile a minute. The frustration and overwhelmingness bleed together until you can't tell one emotion separate from another.
All of a sudden, Seungcheol's thumbs caress your cheeks while the rest of his fingers softly cup your jaw and it is only then that you realise you have been silently crying. He oh so gently wipes your cheek dry while uttering, "Please don't cry. I know I hurt you. I promise I will leave as soon as I make sure you are going to be okay." Instantly, a part inside your brain is flooded with panic as it screams no. You don't want him to leave when you remember how hard the past week was on you and how many times a day you would revisit that night in the cabin, the moment you two shared and how it proved to be the anchor for you throughout everything that happened after.
You were— are mad at him but you still want him near, crazy is it not?
You keep thinking of how safe you felt the moment Seungcheol found you in tonight's chaos, how just his presence made you fall asleep so easily when for the last week you could not fall asleep without the fear of nightmares.
Yes, they have returned. But you don't see the accident anymore, you see your uncle chasing you around the cabin while you call for Seungcheol but he doesn't come, no matter how much you beg.
And after tonight, you wonder what more nightmares await you. So when you utter the one, very powerful word, you tell yourself that you are doing this for yourself, to be selfish and not for him, which is not a lie entirely. 
"No."
Your left hand reaches to grab the fabric of his shirt and you fist it tightly in your hand. "Don't leave."  You don't dare to look at him, scared you will break once you do and instead focus your gaze on the patterns of the carpet while holding onto his shirt. The next moment Seungcheol is sitting next to you and in the moment after he gently wraps his arms around you, your head falling perfectly against his shoulder while your arms snake around his waist after a moment's hesitation. 
His warm touch soothes your back as his other hand cups the back of your head, softly stroking it with his thumb. A small whimper comes from your mouth as quiet sobs escape from you and you hide your face and weep, trying to stifle the sounds.
"I am so sorry, _____. I am sorry for everything." Seungcheol whispers, voice thick with emotion. "I will make everything better, I promise. I will stay as long as you need me and then… " There is a moment of heavy pause. "When you don't, I will follow you around like a lost puppy for the rest of my life." Thinking about the rest of your life and not having Seungcheol in it makes you sob harder and if you had energy you would scream at him and tell him to just shut up. Instead, you cry, cry your heart out, promising yourself that from tomorrow you won't. 
Tomorrow another battle begins. 
As the night grows deeper, Seungcheol holds you tighter and your sobs gradually fade and before you know it you fall asleep on his shoulder. Seungcheol stays still for a while longer to make sure you don't wake up before gently picking up your sleeping form and setting you down on the bed, fixing the pillow underneath your head and covering you with a blanket. Despite his desire to crawl into bed and sleep next to you, he resists it and instead takes the loveseat in front of the window, where he sits and watches your peacefully sleeping form, before falling asleep himself with a heart full of gratitude.
— You watch the steam from the mug evaporate into the air before taking a small sip. The tea is slightly bitter and hot, just as you need it.
After waking up and taking a quick shower, here you sit, by the window of your penthouse suite, sipping tea, treating yourself to a quiet peaceful moment before your hectic day, which you are frankly not prepared for, begins. 
You woke up to an empty suite, with no sign of Seungcheol and it almost made you wonder if last night was an entire elaborate dream. But then you found his tie lying on the loveseat which acted as a reassurance of his presence, weirdly bringing solace to you. 
After waking up, you realised your phone's battery is dead, which became another source of peace for you, because you know otherwise, it would have been blowing up with calls and you wouldn't have gotten the good night's sleep that you got. 
There's a sudden sound of the door opening that alerts you, making you crane your neck to see the visitor. Seungcheol walks in, dressed completely differently from last night, looking delicious in a light blue polo and white pants. On his hands are two shopping bags and behind him is a hotel staff member who pushes in a huge breakfast trolley. "Good morning, _____." Seungcheol meets your eye as he sets down the shopping bags on the edge of the bed and thanks the staff as he takes his leave.  You watch Seungcheol take off the lids covering the food while speaking, "Breakfast is here. I have asked for a bit of everything you like. And I have got new clothes and some necessities for you. They are in the bag," He points to the general direction as he starts stacking pancakes on a plate for you. You are quite surprised and flattered and you cannot come up with anything else to say but, "Thank you."
For some weird reason, you feel shy and awkward around him as if you are a newborn fawn. Maybe it is because none of you are addressing the elephant in the room; last night's conversation and instead acting like you have known each other for years. "It's my pleasure," he smiles at you, a genuine smile that shows his dimples and makes your heart gallop like a horse. Handing you the plate, he takes a comfortable seat in the chair in front of you and watches you dig in, a look you can only describe as fondness sitting on his face. Feeling shy, you cover your mouth as you chew. "Stop looking at me." 
"You look a bit tired. Did you not sleep well?" He asks suddenly.  "I had a good sleep, thank you." You inform, surprised how he noticed.  You have been feeling a little sick after you woke up despite having a very good night's rest. A headache has been creeping up on your temples but you are trying hard to ignore it because this is not the time to get sick.
You have a long day ahead of you.
Making you jerk, Seungcheol places his palm on your forehead out of the blue as he checks your temperature and an unpleasant look settles on his face. "You are getting a fever." "No, I'm not." You direct your focus on cutting your pancakes, using too much pressure. Ignoring you, the man dials a number on his phone and asks for some cold medicine to be brought to the hotel room to whoever is on the other side. "I just told you, I am fine." You frown, annoyed. He hangs up and stares at you as if you are speaking a different language. "You are not. You need to take the medicine and get some rest."
"Now is not the time for me to sleep! Do not play doctor!" You snap, setting the plate down with a loud bang as you clutch the fork and knife tightly in your hand. Seungcheol does not react to your outburst but simply changes position as he comes to sit next to you.
"Your cousin is in custody. I talked with your lawyer this morning, he is preparing everything well. There is no way he is getting off. Jihoon and his men already testified to the police so you do not have to meet with them unless you want to add something. If you do, I will arrange a phone call with the station. The legal department is working on a statement and it will be released today in a press conference. The CFO will read it out." He informs, casually. 
"You are sick, _____. And it's okay .You went through a lot. It is okay if you take a break today. No one is asking you to go out there and face the demons. You need to rest. Your body is asking for it." 
His voice softens as one of his hands comes to rest on your thigh gently. The assurance in his voice paired with the tenderness in his eyes makes you swallow a lump in your throat and blink back tears. "Still..."
"Finish your breakfast." He says as he reaches for the plate while taking the fork and knife out of your hand and cutting it into bite sized pieces. "And you should probably call your brother today, by the way. The news of last night's events will reach him sooner or later and I think it would be best if he heard it from you."
You nod, feeling sad. Chan just left for a vacation one week ago. When he hears about this, he will definitely catch the next flight home.
"If you do not want to call him, I can do it for you." Seungcheol offers as he finishes his task and hands the plate and cutlery back to you.
"No, I will do it." You murmur and silently go back to eating. Seungcheol watches you in silence for the rest of the meal and after you are done, the staff returns to clean up and drops your medicines. You take them and then sit in your bed idly, watching the city skyline through your window, trying not to overthink anything. You can hear Seungcheol talk over the phone in the other room before he steps back into the master bedroom to check up on you.
"If you feel too sick, let me know. I will take you to the hospital." 
You softly nod and turn your head to look at him. He appears worried, his eyes glazed with concern, his brows forming a knot as if he's trying to read you. After a moment, you silently motion him to come sit by you on the bed which he diligently follows. 
His hands reach out to hold yours, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he gazes into your eyes, leaning closer to you, his eyes searching for something in yours. His bangs fall forward, cupping his temples and you itch to brush them away.  "Tell me what you are thinking." He whispers.
"You have pretty hair." You reply honestly and he chuckles, shaking his head before his face becomes serious.  "I missed you." His voice is low, almost inaudible as his gaze falls down to your linked hands, as if he is ashamed to meet your eyes when saying that. "I missed you too." You reply honestly, once again. Seungcheol seems surprised to hear that and you cannot help but roll your eyes.
"Oh please, Choi Seungcheol. Don't act like you had no idea." Your head rests against the headboard as you make yourself comfortable and scowl at him. "You knew very well how much effect you had on me and you knew damn well how much I loved you."
"Loved me?"
"Okay, love you—"
"Wait, no— you...love me? Really? You didn't say it that night in the heat of the moment?" You only realise then how you just casually spat it out, again, and immediately, heat blooms on your face. You avoid his gaze, snatching your hands from his grip while he looks absolutely stunned.
"Whatever." You mutter, scooting down on the bed, reaching to grab the sheets and hide yourself in them but Seungcheol stops you as he cages you between his arms, his face hovering dangerously close to yours, his perfume and aftershave blending into an addictive scent that makes your brain hazy with need.
Control yourself, woman! "Answer me. You love me?" "Ugh, you heard me the first time," you groan, trying to twist away from him but he stops you by cupping your chin and making you face him. 
"Wanna know something?" He whispers, inching his face closer.
"What?" You are breathless.
"I love you too, ____." He replies, his lips ghosting over yours. You anticipate a kiss but he doesn't, instead tucks your hair behind your ear as he whispers in your ear. "I am so deeply, madly in love with you it is embarrassing."
The words are music to your ears and your insides swoon as you close your eyes and relish them, pressing your lips tight to prevent yourself from breaking into a maniacal grin. Seungcheol shifts his weight back and rests himself on his one palm as his other hand softly cups your face. "And I am sorry, once again, for what I did to you."
"Good but I am still mad." You try your best to appear stern.
"I know." His expression is solemn. "I plan on making it up to you until my dying breath."
When did he become so romantic?
"You may start by cuddling me," you whisper, almost shy, carefully watching his reaction. He immediately proceeds to get under the sheets with you and carefully engulfs you into his large arms, your face resting against his solid chest as his hand strokes your hair soothingly. Your arms move to snake around his waist as you feel yourself relax, his arms feeling like the safest, most comfortable place in the entire universe and you never, ever want to leave.
"I love you, Seungcheol." Your voice is muffled against his chest.
"I love you more, angel. So much more."
1 month later 
The view around the cabin is just as pretty as you remember it. The setting sun of dusk casts it in a beautiful glow which you stop and stand to admire. 
Beside you, Seungcheol finishes parking the jeep and unloads the overnight bags from the trunk. 
"What are you looking at?" He asks when he comes to stand next to you, fishing for keys from his pocket in one hand.
"It's very beautiful." You murmur, eyes glancing over the view before settling down on the man next to you. He is dressed in a grey t-shirt, his blond hair looking as gorgeous as ever, if not more in the golden hour and you know, he is undoubtedly the epitome of beauty. 
Seungcheol meets your stare with equal sincerity as he reaches to hold your hand, whispering. "Yes, it is." You know he is talking about you.
A light, gleeful laugh escapes your lips as you playfully push him with your shoulder. He grins and drags you with him inside the cabin.
It is hard to believe that this place was a crime scene about a month ago. Seungcheol did some thorough renovations and now the place looks more beautiful, cozier than ever.
As much as your heart wishes to stay in this little piece of green heaven forever, this is a small weekend getaway that Seungcheol organised and initiated by picking you up early from work today. You did not complain because the past few weeks were tough.
Getting your company back together after the fundraiser's incident and making sure you are still in the market is taking a lot of well thought plans and manpower and instructions. You have help, of course, from Chan who immediately rushed home from his vacation when he heard about Jun's attack on you. Seungcheol also has been helping you a lot, though you officially denied him the position of your bodyguard. 
He then started working as a security consultant at his friend's company and has been assisting you however he could throughout the past month. He also started therapy again and so far his progress is remarkable. He is a lot less self sabotaging and he has not had a nightmare ever since you got back together, much like you. Not to mention he has been working extra hard to make it up to you, always catering to your every little need and never asking for anything in return or initiating anything, even though you have noticed multiple times how his eyes trail you around hungrily. 
So far, you have only rewarded him with kisses because it was too much fun to watch him silently suffer.  However, you plan to change that this weekend.
"Let's watch the sunset together," you propose as Seungcheol drops your bags in the bedroom. He agrees and you two walk back outside to the patio, hands linked where you stand and gaze at the setting sun. Seungcheol's arms wrap around you protectively from behind and his chin comes to rest on your shoulder.
"We need to get groceries." He murmurs absentmindedly as he presses a soft kiss on your neck that makes you sigh in pleasure. You hum, offering that you could just order takeout. As the sun dips beneath the horizon, Seungcheol takes occasional peeks at your face, admiring the mesmerised look in your eyes. His heart beats loudly, wild in love as he imagines the rest of his life with you and how it would be to watch you watch the sunset.
Delightful. Like the delightful secret he is hiding. A huge secret that has been burning holes in his pocket for a month.  After the night of the attack, the next morning when he went to shop for your clothes at the mall, a ring caught his eye in a jewellery store and he purchased it right there, intent on putting it on your finger someday.
He has been carrying it ever since, waiting for the perfect moment to get down on one knee.  Maybe this weekend will carry that moment, maybe not.
Either way, it is fine. He is not in a rush. He knows he will get down on one knee when he deems himself worthy enough of you. Though, logically it might never happen because no one is worthy of a person as beautiful, as amazing as you. But he will work very hard to be worthy of you, now and every day that he has on this planet. Seungcheol smiles to himself, agreeing that he's a very lucky bastard. "Cheol?" You call him by his nickname, breaking his train of thought. "Hm?" "I love you." You whisper. His next words are the sweetest serenade. "I love you more, angel."
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A/N: If you have made it this far, congratulations and a huge thank you for taking the time to read this mammoth of a fic! I genuinely put my blood, sweat and tears into this and believe me when I tell you that my wrists hurt like hell. Still, I am glad I could share this with the world and I'm very proud of myself for successfully putting the conjectural idea from my head to the paper. It took a lot of time to come up with the idea, finalize it and stitch the pieces together so please leave a review and reblog! Your thoughts and comments really make my day. Wishing you a happy October! As a side note, I am swearing off of writing fics over 20k words. When I tell you that this app whopped my ass while posting this! My god! I was seriously considering breaking it into two parts. If you are reading this now that means I have hopefully posted it without trouble. Anyway, toodles!
© startlightxsvt 2023 | All rights reserved. Do not copy, repost, translate, adapt, or repurpose any of my works.
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starvail · 3 months
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wdym i have a head dent?!
narumi gen / gn!spouse!reader
synopsis : "narumi gen is highly respected in his own division, with every officer following him with determination and every platoon leader dyeing their hair like him as a sign of respect."
content : only crack, fluff, gender neutral reader, reader works in jakdf, a few flashbacks, a little bit more on the lore side, the word beautiful is used to describe the reader, shinonome's age is just a guess, mostly shinonome pov, narumi should have his own warning fr, vice captain and platoon leaders are tired.
words : 1.7k
a/n : you can’t convince me that this man hasn’t went out on a mission with a head dent at least once-
part two of 'a cheers to our youth'
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She remembers years ago, newly turned twenty, and nervously standing in front of your desk, arms crossed behind her back, posture rigid.
This would be the first time she will be meeting you in person, rather than listening to your demands through a communicator.
Now is the time to make the best lasting first impression. To prove that she is capable of handling things much bigger than an ordinary officer.
"Thank you very much for deeming me worthy of a rank review! I will not let you down!"
"Don't thank me for something as trivial as just a chance of a promotion. I know you'll do well in the future, Shinonome. The person you really need to impress is the First Captain."
You do not look up from your paperwork, and though many will see this as quite cold and rude, she's heard from numerous people that you simply do not have the time to entertain anything or anyone else within working hours.
The fact that you even spared a one-on-one meeting with her was an honour, and Shinonome will forever respect your dedication. Unfortunately, her lips move to articulate her thoughts before she could stop herself.
"I aspire to contribute to the Defence Force as much as you and Captain Narumi, Head! Please wait for me!" She slaps a hand over her mouth.
Stopping your editing to the paper before you, you look up at her in surprise at her outburst. Shinonome is swift in attempting to correct her statement.
"Uhm...! I did not mean it in that way, Head. A-Apologies for speaking out of line. I'll commence however many push ups-"
"Hahaha!" You made no move to hide your mirth and Shinonome does not know whether to be concerned or relieved at your reaction.
She curses at herself. Dammit, well done, Rin. You definitely made a lasting first impression alright. Great, now Head is gonna see you as a clown vying for their hand.
"No need for the push ups. I appreciate your passion, Shinonome. However, I am already married, so I will have to decline." It seems that you will not let her forget this. How cruel...
Wiping a forming tear at the edge of your eye, you sigh lightheartedly. "It's a good thing that you didn't say that to your Captain or else his head would blow up bigger than it already is!"
By now, the officer is bright red at her blunder before your words catch up to her. Wait, married...? Weren't you only a year or two older than her? Is she already falling behind her peers in yet another department?!
And though she does not say her thoughts aloud this time, you seem to be able to read her befuddled face too well. You hold up your hand and lift two fingers up like a peace sign, a soft smile adorning your own face.
At that moment, Shinonome realises that you are much friendlier in person compared to when you are communicating with Captain Narumi.
During missions, it was like listening to dogs fighting.
"I am two years older than you, I think, If I remember reading your files correctly. I just got married really young so don't worry too much about finding love or whatnot for now. Live in the present and all that." You wave off casually.
"If I may be so bold to ask..." Shinonome only now notices the metal band that you adorn around your fourth finger and shyly looks at her own twiddling bare fingers.
"Hm? Go ahead." Your focus is still on her.
"What age did you get married?"
"Eighteen."
"?!"
You burst back into laughter when Shinonome's composed and seemingly nonchalant persona crumbles and she is left there dumbfounded.
A feint 'don't mind' playfully slips out as you excuse yourself to deliver your now finished papers and pat her shoulder on your way to the door.
Shinonome finds that you will truly not let her live down her moment in your office.
Even months later, after she was proven competent and promoted to Platoon Leader. Be it during a mission, passing each other in the corridor, or in a meeting.
("Platoon Leader Shinonome, please wait for me in my office after this." / "Shinonome, please wait for the arrival of new equipment sent over by...." / "Ah, Rin. Thanks for waiting for me, traffic was atrocious today!" All of those interactions being followed by a knowing smirk.)
Despite this, the two of you have grown closer, more casual. Dare she say that the two of you were even friends.
She learnt that you are married to the Narumi Gen and that you have known him since you were children (she had always assumed those endearments he torments you with during missions were a joke).
Learns you prefer drinking iced coffee rather than hot.
You only wear shoes you can very easily slip on.
You like to make edits to documents using a purple pen rather than the standard red.
You personalise your lab coats by stitching your initials and operator number to the cuffs (swearing her to secrecy, you tell her that you also stitch Captain Narumi's initials, but instead at the cuffs, it's hidden inside the pocket over where your heart is).
In spite of your seemingly intimidating work front, you are still very much human.
(Years down the line, Shinonome has well learnt that you were never scary, or aloof, or anything of the sort. She guesses your role in the Defence Force just forces you to seem like it, given your importance.)
Shinonome also learns that you and Narumi dye each other's hair.
"Oh, this?" You motion to the groupings of fresh silver highlights in your hair. The Platoon Leader had to deliver some documents and noticed the change and decided to compliment you on it, it fits you. She asks if you had it done professionally.
It looks really nice... maybe she would suit something similar?
"No, I didn't go to a salon. You think I have the money for that sort of thing?" Yes, yes you do, Head.
"I've been dyeing Captain Loser's hair since we were teenagers, and he decided while we were touching up his roots that it's been a while since we were matching and wouldn't leave me alone otherwise. I didn't get to sleep until two last night!"
You say it with such disdain that if she were a new recruit, she would think that you meant it.
But Shinonome knew you better than that, because you could never hide the adoration that shone through your irises, or the fondness in your smile.
Perhaps, one day, she will meet someone that would elicit the same reaction when talking about her...
"He wanted to do my hair without my help so now there's a chunk of under layer hair that's all silver instead of just highlights. If you look even closer, you might see just bleached bits that he forgot to colour! He botched it!"
She would be lying if she were to say she wasn’t jealous.
You are beautiful and intelligent and considerate and sincere. And though you are not physically strong, you show your strength in a plethora of other ways, your contributions named on newspapers displayed along your office walls are evident of that. Your strategies and tactics have led many to victory and the Eastern Defence Force is as strong as ever.
Truly, you and Narumi Gen are forces to be reckoned with and Shinonome could not be more thankful to be so in reach.
She does not realise she was staring at you for so long until you speak up.
"Ah! Would you like me to do your hair sometime?"
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"Oi, Dumbass. Stop trying to act cool in front of the newbies."
Narumi, dramatically posing solemnly atop a fresh kaiju corpse, tilts his head back to face the flying drone's camera and shows off a smirk at the sound of your voice.
"Well, if it isn't my darling dearest, everything okay at Comms?" He waves lazily, but this seems to irk you more.
"You were playing Underwatch, when I told you not to, weren't you." You frame it as a statement, rather than a question.
Everyone in Operations and Officers around Narumi watches as their Captain's jaw drops to the floor, eyes bulging out of his skull.
He is quick to grab at the drone and shakes it wildly, as if it was a person he was trying to gouge information out of. The propellers are swift to turn off, you knew this kind of reaction was coming from miles away.
"Who snitched?!" His face is all up on the camera.
At this point, Narumi knew that it was of his best interest to admit the truth rather than make up excuses on the spot, especially if you used that tone.
But how could you have possibly found out? He even made sure to download a special VPN so you couldn't track his gameplay! Was it Hasegawa? It had to have been Hasegawa. Damn you, Hasegawa-
"Your galactic-sized head dent gave it away. Do you not have enough sense to at least fix it before you leave for duty?" You sigh on the other end of the mic, disappointment evident in your admonishment.
"Huh?"
The drone starts up again and Narumi is forced to let go as it turns to face ninety degrees away from him and projects a hologram of himself, but from his side.
Lo and behold, all of the Captain's hair is sticking straight up, as per usual when he is in combat, except for the areas at the centre of his skull, a clear band of hair matted down with a sheen of presumably sweat.
"Pfft, I hope the news articles capture this very flattering side of you! 'What a loser,' they'll all say." You do your best to cover up a snicker. The drone is now happily emoting like an actual person, tilting side to side as if it were someone's head, taunting him.
"NO!!" Narumi is on his knees, frantically trying to fix his hair while maniacal laughter resonates from the floating device.
From a distance, a certain Platoon Leader watches on, irked. Out of all of the people to admire for the power they bring to the Defence Force, out of all the people to strive to be like, why did it have to be these two?
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double--blind · 11 months
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(SPOILERS) breaking down how obsessed Andrew is w/his sister bc he's a repressed lil liar and I'm going insane
This post got longer than I intended it to
1. He claims they don't spend enough time apart from each other to even begin missing her so he doesn't even know if he would, but just earlier in the game he was apart from her for probs like 30 mins tops to investigates some cultists and guess what???? He was already missing her 😒
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2. Says "I thought you grew out of this touchy-feely crap" when Ashley asks for a hug, but earlier when he was cooking dinner, he was the one with the inexplicable urge to "pull this broody bitch into [his] arms and force her to stay until she smiles" 😒
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3. Piggy-backing off the last screenshot: WHAT OTHER THOUGHTS, ANDREW??? yOU WERE JUST THINKING ABT HUGGING HER. WHAT DO YOU EVEN MEAN. THESE ARE SIMPLY INNOCENT BROTHERLY THOUGHTS ARE THEY NOT????? 🤨🤨🤨
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4. Bro just can't keep his hands off her. And everyone thinks Ashley's the clingy one jeez (lol the way he springs apart from her when Mom catches them is definitely definitelyyyy not worth analyzing. nope. not even when it happens a second time on the couch. nope. nooope)
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5. What. What is he thinking here. Don't think I don't see those grey lil blush lines. Is this connected to my third point somehow bc like... 🤨😬 Is "Andrew" is gonna start doing and being what "Andy" was too spineless and afraid of doing?? That's what the vow was partly abt right?? Does that include—
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5. WHEWWW BOY that little flashback with his gf has so much baggage in it I just wanna dissect. His girlfriend's tryna have a serious discussion with him abt his weird sister for the sake of bettering their relationship bc she genuinely loves him, but he just gets caught up in fondly talking abt said weird sister instead??
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6. He's awfully hesitant abt Ashley learning some independence, bc y'know what?? I think he doesn't really want her to stop relying on him. But what do I know y'know
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6. Wants his gf to put tie her hair up in a ponytail, then when she refuses bc he'll pull on it, says it's just "how boys express their love". Well. You know who else puts there hair up in a ponytail??? You know who else's hair he's always pulling on and touching???
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7. The voicemails in his gf's phone left by Ashley are heard by him in his dreams, and his dreams are a construction of his mind utilizing his memories, personal hangups, and knowledge of Ashley. The voicemails irl were left on his gf's phone, and for all we know, he never actually listened to them in person. Bearing this in mind... odds are the things Ashley's saying contain bits of truths he believes within himself, filtered thru her crude, hateful dialogue.
Here. I transcribed one of them...
"DO YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME!? Just because you can fuck him and I can't? You think that's love?! Are you fucking delusional?? Cumdumpsters like you are just that. He will never love you. Not like he loves me. I am the only one. I am everything. I am the secrets you'll never hear. When he lies in bed at night, and when he needs someone to hold on to… It's not you he seeks out. It is me."
8. Claims Ashley's the one with the jealous streak, not him, but I think he's just as bad. The only difference is that Ashley's never given him reason to act on it since all she's ever wanted was him, but at the slightest mention of her gettin it on w/someone else, even as a joke, he gets mad. "OVER MY DEAD BODY!!" he says, when she's jokingly contemplating getting knocked up via the neighbor so an ambulance would come for her. "I wouldn't let them," he says, when she's complaining abt not being pretty enough for the wardens to bang her
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9. Going hand-in-hand with that fact, he's intensely protective of her. Didn't hesitate to cleaver the warden who found her in the closet (probs didn't even BLINK lmaooo he chose VIOLENCE), and when the cake-stealing cultist insulted her just once, he stepped forward just like that
10. In their apt, when they were lying on the floor talking abt jumping off the balcony, he was really caught up in the "romantic" fantasy of them committing a double suicide and dying with their bodies entwined so irreparably by the impact they form one unified corpse "never to be separated!" and they get buried in the same coffin together. UM??? Bro fr thought he was the sane one of the two. That wasn't even true before the cannibalism and demon summoning 😭😭😭
BONUS:
11. This might just be me, but his reaction to seeing the post-sex vision doesn't strike me as someone who's inherently opposed to the idea. Instead of disgusted, he was... flustered?? He acted like she walked in mid-guilty pleasure wet dream. This wasn't a "GROSS THATS INCEST" reaction which is... the most normal reaction to have. That's the face of a man that got CAUGHT bro.
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He asks "we're not like that, are we?" and "why are you like this?" and questions the veracity of the vision, but he never actually explicitly denies wanting the vision to happen, more focused on Ashley and her reaction. He buries the elephant under the rug as fast as he can, bc yeah, it struck a landmine, but it probably wasn't a landmine for the reason Ashley thinks it is. I bet the vision just hit a little too close... :P
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gladiatorcunt · 6 months
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summary: aemond targaryen x afab childhood friend wife!reader
cw: intentional heavier valyrian usage (i used translators so if i’m wrong, please just pretend that i invented the language and i’m right), slight breath play-ish, reader isn’t related to aemond in any way (they’re just from a different royal family from elsewhere , visited as a kid and met aemond), pregnant!reader, the breeding and praise kinks aren’t explicitly stated but they’re more in his actions, flashback mention of teen aemond having a typical teen boy reaction and getting a boner bc he saw his crush bent over, aemond drinks reader’s breast milk like a vampire and cums, this au-ish storyline has been a long standing maladaptive daydream but this is just a kinktober post, stuck in the wall was also supposed to be included but i cheated and just mentioned it/same with the waxplay lmao, implied wax play later on, kinda unsafe and unrealistic sex (obviously), written with no thoughts
wc: 1.4k+
block & move on if uncomfortable !!
do not repost, translate, or give ai my works
kinktober masterlist
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It’s been six moons since you discovered that you were with child. Your husband, Aemond Targaryen, had been smug beyond belief when the maester estimated that you conceived on your wedding night.
You were not prepared for how your body would transform in the coming months. You have to empty your bladder more often than not and a burning in your chest keeps you awake. One of the more annoying problems was the tremendous ache in your breasts.
Aemond awoke to your quiet groans, sitting up in bed was not easy for you these days.
With a yawn, not even bothering to put on his eyepatch, he sat up in bed beside you.
“What have I told you about making good use of me if you need something, raqiarzy? (beloved). You should still be resting.” He chides you.
“How can I sleep when my tits are full to bursting, Aemond?” You reply with a slightly bratty tone, and he gives you a brisk pat on your behind to settle you. It was gentler than his strikes usually are, he considers your health with every action after all.
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He sighs and lumbers out of bed to light a candle, as naked as he was when he succumbed to slumber. The newfound influx of hormones guides your attention to hone in on his cock flopping in the air as he walks back to bed. The dried wax from your love making last night still stubbornly clung to both of your bodies. You would definitely need to take another bath in the morning.
“Ao līs daor emagon ryptan issa se ēlī jēda, issa jorrāelagon. (you must not have heard me the first time, my love)” Aemond reminds you, unable to stop you from getting up and sitting in front of your vanity.
If your husband did not know better, one would think that you were opposed to any night time…. activites. The tired amusement in your eyes beckons him forward, but he stays lounging on the bed and watching you run your fingers through your hair. Aemond resorts to teasing to obtain your attention, adoring how you always fall for it hook, line, and sinker.
“It feels as if it were only yesterday that we reunited all those years ago, you had gotten lost and ended up falling in a hole in the city’s walls on your visit.”
Your hands pause on their way to grab your hair brush, casting a weak glare towards him out of the corner of your left eye. You clear your throat but you make no attempts to hide your embarrassment at the thought of the past. Aemond holds eye contact with you through the mirror, resting the hand not holding his head up on his hip.
“I was six and ten, wallowing in nausea and nerves. Do not pretend that you were faring much better, husband. We had not laid eyes on each other for nearly a decade.”
You do not mention the sizable tent in his trousers he had carried around after he helped you out of the wall.
“At that time I was convinced the way I would see you again would be in death, there was only relief for me.” He says firmly, and you shyly peel your gaze away from the mirror.
As exhausted and drained as you are, your heart melts at the unwavering affection in his words. Aemond clearly grows bored of playing cat and mouse, because suddenly his torso is pressing flush against your back.
“If you can’t sleep, at least allow me to distract you from your discomfort.”
He cups the front of your neck and gently squeezes, you huff but understand his unspoken request and arch your back against him.
“Refrain from teasing me, valzȳrys (husband), for tonight at least.” You lean your head back and look up at him as his other hand drifts down to tug the bodice of your nightgown down.
Your slip of Valyrian earns you another quick squeeze. You gasp and Aemond seizes the opportunity to gather enough saliva in his mouth to spit into yours. Your throat bobs under his hand as you swallow and he pinches your nipple in appreciation.
“Hmm. I will do my very best, darling.”
You have learned by now that such assurances mean tragically little.
Aemond takes stock of your chest, sliding the hand cupping your throat to be able to grope at both of your breasts. He rolls them around in his palms and kneads them as if he were in the kitchen handling dough. You moan at the sheer relief and his sapphire eye seems to sparkle at you in some kind of wink.
“These heavy tits must be remarkably sore, so full and with no one to drain them of their milk.”
You nod helplessly, more than ready for him to abandon his games and do just that.
One of his hands temporarily abandons your breast to push your head back down so you’d look at the mirror. You sit there, enraptured in the sight of milk beading to the tips of your nipples and leaking out.
Aemond catches it as well and groans, pinching at your nipples a bit meaner and squeezing your tits tightly to coax more milk out.
“Gevie (beautiful) , all this food for our future dragon. You are glowing brighter than any moon, raqiarzy (beloved).”
Your cheeks heat with embarrassment, never being able to take compliments with grace, and gaze down at your lap. A firm hand sinks into your hair and pulls it so you return your gaze to your sticky tits. Aemond swipes his fingers through the milky trails running down your tits. He whorishly brings them to his mouth and sucks them dry, smirking at you in the mirror as he grunts.
Your ornate vanity chair is swiftly turned around, and your lap is drowned in white hair when he falls to his knees before you.
“Aemond, what are you-“ Your words are cut off by a greedy mouth latched around your right nipple. Your husband is being mindful of his teeth and starts to rapidly suckle.
His free hand pets at the hair above your mound absentmindedly. An agonized groan floats through the air as his sucking picks up speed. You clutch onto the back of his head with both hands and run your fingers through his fine hair.
“Gods, Aemond, thank you thank you thank you. Such a devoted husband, I love you.” You do not say it often, your shy nature comes into play regarding that sort of thing, but the immensity of it must take a toll on your husband.
His groans are muffled by your teats and you have to swipe away stray drops of milk that dribble out of his mouth as he drains you.
Somewhere along the way he switches to your other breast when the previous one had nothing more to give. Your cunt howls in need for additional stimulation but the feeling of your chest pain fading away urges you to let your dearly beloved have his fill of your body. There are times in which you say it is his right.
You notice that Aemond has been grinding his weeping cock against the floor. He appears to have synced his thrusts to his suckling, and seeing how drunk he is off your milk meant for his future child makes you just as ravenous as his cock is for a hole to fuck.
Your arms wrap around Aemond in a fierce hug, surrendering yourself to your cunt’s way of thinking. Even if he wanted to pull away, your grip gave him no means to do so. His face is squished into your tits and his eye rolls back, continuing his suckling and writhing.
He rips his mouth away from you to loudly exclaim, and you are startled by how his mouth forms an ‘O’ shape and his form locks up. Aemond weakly thrusts his hips through his apparent peak, the burst of fluids spewing out onto the floor. A few spurts of it lands on your legs, and in the depths of your depravity you eagerly scoop it up to shove in your mouth.
You run your fingers through Aemond’s hair again to assist him in coming back down, and once he does you are quickly swooped up in his arms and delicately thrown back onto the bed.
“Do not confuse a curse for a blessing, issa dāria (my queen). My cock is likelier to grow wings and take flight than it is to run out of seed to stuff this puffy cunny with. Sir sagon nykeā sȳz ābrazȳrys (now be a good wife), and endure it for me, hm?”
You will be greeting the approaching dawn with countless more pieces of dried wax.
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innerfare · 21 days
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Random Shanks Headcanons 
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Summary: A random collection of Shanks headcanons
CW: None // SFW
———
Has a fake arm that he uses for gags. Only he and Yasopp find it funny. Beckman once tossed the arm overboard after Shanks ‘lost’ the arm in a pot of Lucky Roux’s stew, only for Shanks to enter the mess hall the next morning with another attached to his body. 
Can do magic tricks, especially good with coins and cards. A very skilled sleight of hand artist. Also not above using these tricks to cheat while playing cards. (Inspired by the coin game w/ Luffy flashback). Cheating is the only way he can beat Beckman, who’s by far the best player on the crew. But he doesn’t even cheat to win, he just likes the thrill of getting away with it; also enjoys the thrill of getting caught. There was a rabbit loose aboard the Red Force for a solid month after the captain tried to learn how to pull it out of a hat.
The best beer pong player in the New World, probably the entire world. Would challenge all of his enemies to a game of beer pong to settle their disputes if he thought they would respect the results of the game. Good at drinking games in general (has a little too much experience).
Is an infamous gossip. If a member of the crew wants word to get out about something, they just mention it to their captain. 
Enjoys playing matchmaker. Always acts as a wingman for his crew when there’s a pretty bar maid. The only one he never tried to fix up with one of his crew mates was his darling Makino. 
Are soap operas a thing in the One Piece universe? Because if so, he has a favorite that he never misses an episode of (fights hardest on Thursdays so he can be home in time to catch the latest episode of Search for One Piece, a pirate drama based loosely on Roger’s life. He particularly enjoys the harlequin character). 
Loves meddling in any drama that comes up aboard the ship. Sometimes even starts drama just for entertainment, like the time he told Lucky Roux that he saw Limejuice sneaking steaks from the freezer, or when he robbed Beckman blind and left traces of a turkey leg at the scene of the crime. 
Thinks childish pranks are the funniest thing in the world. Pranks prospective crew members to see how they respond; screens them based on whether they find his jokes funny. Beckman insists this is not the best way to do things but Shanks persists. But Shanks isn't just being childish. He's making sure everyone who joins his crew has a good nature as that is, in his opinion, the most important thing. If you can't trust your crew, you're dead in the water.
Was definitely posing when the government snapped the photo for his wanted poster but pretends it was completely candid. Has a habit of comparing his wanted poster to the posters of his enemies.
He also uses his wanted poster to fish for compliments, especially from his crew. “That’s a pretty good picture, isn’t it?” “I don’t look half bad in that, do I?” “The real reason the marines are hunting me- the sight of my wanted poster makes their wives swoon.”  
Refers to himself as, “that handsome devil.” 
Smells like body odor and weed, but in a Matthew McConaughey kind of way (that is to say, it works for him). 
Animals and babies always like him. He insists the trick is to act uninterested. 
He is genuinely good-natured, but he definitely uses his sense of humor to disguise how terrifying he truly is. Is a pro at lulling people into a false sense of security. Definitely slouches on purpose to seem less intimidating.
Secretly paid off Luffy's "treasure tab" at Makino's bar. Didn't do it just to be kind to the poor kid but actually because he believed Luffy when he said he'd pay it back in full and did it to annoy Luffy a decade or two down the line. (When Luffy finally goes back to pay Makino and she informs him Shanks already did, Luffy blows a gasket.)
———
Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!
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onlyjaeyun · 8 months
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𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 – 𝟏𝟑
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞
⤥ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
⤥ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔
⤥ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐.𝟕𝐤
⤥ 𝐜𝐰: 𝐦𝐚/𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐦.), 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟. 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫/𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐭𝐰
⤥ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐀 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞, 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲'𝐬 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤.
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Sunghoon has always struggled with his emotions. He knows it's because his father never allowed him to live, express or even feel any type of emotion, yet the older he gets the angrier he becomes whenever he realises just how difficult it is to handle everything that's going on inside of him.
There are quite a few things he can't put a name on, but if there's one he's known and stood behind for over a decade now then it's the fact that he hates you.
He can't even remember what it feels like to associate you with anything else besides that burning rage in the deepest parts of his chest. Your voice, your eyes, your face, your mannerisms, your body, everything about you irritates him. Even your choice of words makes his blood boil to the point where he feels deeply uncomfortable whenever he has to listen to you speak for longer than necessary.
He's grown so used to his hatred for you, Sunghoon has actually started finding comfort in his anger and frustration.
And maybe the fact that he's currently tiptoeing on the line of his comfort zone is the reason why he's so angry over the rock hard bulge in his sweats.
You're not supposed to turn him.
This is not how things are supposed to be.
He hates you. There's never been a person he's despised and disliked with the entirety of his heart the way he does with you.
So why the fuck has he not stopped thinking about the way you taste for the past two weeks?
Sunghoon has lost count on how many times he's had to force himself to watch something – anything to push you all the way into the back of his mind just for you to be the one and only thought in his head every single time he comes all over his fist like some horny teenager.
He just doesn't understand how a single moment of sex with you could have possibly altered his whole way of thinking about you to the point where he physically can't stop himself from moaning your name into his pillow.
He hates you.
You made him go through the worst and most gut wrenching experience he's ever had to endure, yet he'd do anything to get another taste of the sweetest pussy he's ever had.
Sunghoon's been trying so hard to understand his body, his train of thoughts, his emotions and yet every attempt turned into a failure because despite his efforts, he always found his way back to you.
At one point he's managed to convince himself that the reason for his body's reactions is the fact that he's been around you more often than he's initially been used to. Before you became the team's manager, he's had to endure your presence maybe once a month or every few weeks because of a mutual friend's birthday.
But now?
Now you're everywhere he goes.
Whenever he walks into the trainer's office at the ice rink, Hoon catches himself eyeing your body up and down, flashbacks to the way you felt, sounded and tasted washing over him every single time. The fact you've been wearing less and less to practice with each day passing by definitely plays a big part in his current state of frustration but no matter how much he tries to deny it, deep down Sunghoon knows it's because he still wants you.
No, it's actually gotten even worse than before. His attempt to "fuck you out of his system" has failed miserably and never once in his life has he regretted anything as much as listening to his body's urges on the day of Heeseung's birthday party.
If only he didn't ignore the rational voice inside of his head that day, maybe he wouldn't have to fight the urge to fuck his fist to the memory of your perfect pussy every god damn day.
Sunghoon's been in absolute denial the first few days after he had gotten his first taste of you, but after his third tinder date had gone wrong because he simply couldn't get it up, his body gave up and his mind quickly followed.
That's how he's come to accept his fate.
And just as usual it doesn't take long for jolts of heat to rush through his veins as soon as his eyes scan the picture you had posted in your story.
It's feels like you're taunting him but Sunghoon knows he broke you with his reaction to the aftermath of your intimacy. He purposely chose to hit you exactly where it hurts because he wants you to be in emotional pain. Everything he says, every comment he makes, every little thing he criticises about you is said and done with the simple intention of hurting you.
There's no point in responding to your stupid yapping if it doesn't end with a blow right under the belt.
Hoon's never played fair when it came to you, simply because he doesn't care. He never cared about you. Not after what happened almost a decade ago, so why would he care about you now?
To say he doesn't care feels like a lie, because someone who claims that would never follow and beat up said person's disgusting boyfriend just because he felt like it.
But to Sunghoon it makes sense. You and your existence are not of relevance to him. The only reason he puts up with you is because of his boys, that's it.
For a moment the thought of just going to the gym and taking his frustration out in the healthiest way he knows crosses his mind but it'd be the fifth time this week and his muscle would give up on him, regardless of how badly he wants to do anything but actually do what he knows his body is craving.
Hoon can't really remember how many days it's been since he came and he doesn't want to anyway, because whenever he remembers how confused and surprised the cute blondie he had matched on tinder with looked when he had decided to leave after giving her head, he just wants to dig his own grave and sleep forever.
Unfortunately for him, he didn't even enjoy the oral intimacy the way he'd usually do, the reason behind that being the fact that never once has a woman reacted to his touch the way you did.
You were so wet, so ready, so needy for him. It was like your pussy had been waiting for him and his touch all this time. Of course he'd never, ever tell you about these thoughts because he'd rather jump off a bridge than tell you just how good you felt but the frustration has slowly been catching up on him.
Within just a few seconds the pain of his erection has left him in a state of actual panic because Sunghoon's been denying himself the relief to your memory to protect his own dignity, but the sight of your body clad in that tiny piece of cloth you dared to call a skirt was enough to drive him into insanity.
Before the rational part of his brain can even fight its way through the thick fog of arousal, Sunghoon has already pushed his grey sweats down his tense thighs, a deep groan escaping his throat as soon as the cool air of his room hits the wet tip of his hard cock.
After what feels like an eternity, Hoon finally decides to give in. He's a victim to his own pleasure and he hates himself for it, yet the feeling of stimulation sends the sweetest waves of relief through his body, leaving him utterly confused and lightheaded.
For the first time since he's gotten a taste of you, Sunghoon doesn't force his mind to focus on other things, he actually indulges in the sweet memory of how good you made him feel. He doesn't even have to do much as his thoughts wander to the sound of your moans and whimpers, to the warmth and wetness of your cunt.
One thing in particular that has yet to leave his mind is the mental image of the way you didn't even hesitate to obey him, quickly parting those pretty lips and sticking out your tongue like you've been waiting to please him.
Every time he closes his eyes and strokes his cock just a little faster, Sunghoon thinks of the way you swallowed his spit and whimpered his name, your pussy dripping wet and ready for him and him only.
With every single minute passing by, Hoon's grip around his phone tightens, a screenshot of your most recent instagram stories on full display for his hungry eyes, something he's not quite proud of but is too fucked out to even think of in that particular moment.
With sharp movements of his hips, Hoon continues to thrust his cock into his tight fist, in desperate hopes of recreating the sweet tightness of your perfect cunt, only to let out a deep grunt of frustration when he realises his failure.
Why did you have to do this to him? Why did your pussy have to be the best he's ever fucked, the sweetest he's ever tasted?
Life has never been good to him but this feels too much. Sunghoon feels overwhelmed and frustrated, yet relief and pleasure continue rushing through his veins with every stroke.
As the young man catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he hates how much he likes what he sees because to his utter shock and displeasure, he's never actually seen himself as ecstatic as in that very moment.
Bleached hair falling messily into his flushed face, a thin veil of sweat covering the entirety of his skin as moan after moan falls past his bit swollen lips.
To his luck Jaeyun had decided to go on a late night snack trip with the other boys, leaving him enough privacy to be as vocal as possible. The worst thing about this, however, remains the fact that Sunghoon has never been the type to make that much noise.
He still remembers how Jakyung had always asked him to be a little bit more vocal about his pleasure, yet for some reason he never had the urge to, whereas now he can barely hold himself back.
Every time his eyes roll into the back of his head, Sunghoon thinks about your little whimpers and high pitched moans.
Mental images of burying his face in your sweet cunt suddenly start overwhelming him, turning into his new favorite thought as he remembers just how hard you kept clenching around his tongue.
It's been almost two weeks since you let him eat you out upon revealing your lack of oral intimacy to him, yet the taste of your sweet juices still lingers on his tongue like it happened yesterday.
The first few days Hoon was convinced that he had gone crazy. His mind was playing tricks on him as he tried to erase your menory with other girls but no matter what, at the end of each and every single hook up, he found himself with his forehead pressed against the wall of his shower, hand as firmly wrapped around his hard cock as he's currently doing, only for your name to fall past his lips the second he reached his sweet relief.
"S-Sunghoon. Please, I need to cum. Don't take this away from me."
That line has turned into a mantra that stupid voice in the back of his voice has been chanting for the past two weeks, driving him into absolute insanity.
But he physically can't deny just how much he liked the sound of his name coming from your lips.
Every time he sees you at practice, he has to force himself to stop imagining how good you probably looked as you begged for his cock, for his tongue and his fingers. For him.
The loud noise of his fist hitting the bare skin of his thighs mixes with his deep grunts and guttural moans, a few whimpers of the nickname he had given you all these years ago, the one you hated with your entire being, easily filling the emptiness of his room.
As Hoon tightens his grip around his cock to simulate the tightness of your perfect pussy, his head falls against the headboard of his bed, jolts of hot pleasure blurring his vision the closer he gets to the relief he's been chasing for what feels like hours.
And Sunghoon knows it's because he wants to spend that much time and even longer just pounding you into your mattress. He hates how badly he wants to watch the way your stupidly beautiful feature contort in a mixture of pleasure and light pain from how much his big cock is stretching you out.
But fuck, does it feel good to just let those thoughts and fantasies fill his head.
And every time his brain reminds him of the fact that you're currently out with some random fucker, hoping he'll give you what only Sunghoon is capable of elicits a row of moaned profanities to leave from his lips.
But in the same moment he won't allow his brain to think of the possibility that maybe, just maybe, you're still as indifferent about him as you were before he fucked you.
To stop his raging boner from dying, Sunghoon shifts his attention back to his phone screen, his soft whimpers echoing in his room as he zooms in on your bare thighs, reminding himself just how good it felt to have his head between them.
There's no way any other guy could ever make you cum as hard with just his tongue, Sunghoon simply refuses to accept the mere possibility.
Your cunt was made for him and him only.
And as he continues to dwell in the sweet memory of your juices dripping out of your tight hole and coating the entire of his tongue like actual honey, Sunghoon has to put his phone down.
Before his brain can even register what his body is doing, his hand finds home in his now slightly damped hair to pull on the thick strands with force, knowing it's exactly what he needs to finally cum. Just like you had done it that night.
With his head full of images of your annoyingly pretty eyes and your dripping cunt, Sunghoon throws his head back with a loud moan of your name and stumbles right into his orgasm.
Waves of pleasure overwhelm his body as he cums all over his bare stomach, coating his flushed skin in three thick stripes of white, yet not ready to stop his hand from stroking his overly sensitive cock.
"F-Fuck", Sunghoon grunts, lets his eyes roll into the back of his head and his lips stretch into a lazy smile when his body finally relaxes underneath his own touch.
His heavy breathing remains the only sound for about five minutes as the blood slowly stops thrumming in his ears and his vision clears up again.
Never once in his life has anyone ever managed to make him cum so hard to the point where actual tears have threatened to fill his eyes and the fact that you, of all people, are the reason behind his current state is something Sunghoon will take to his grave with him.
Yet, he's determined to turn his fantasies and memories into reality, certain you're craving his touch as much as he does with yours.
Sunghoon knows this isn't one sided. There's no way in hell you didn't like fucking him just as much and even if you forgot about him already, which he highly doubts, he's determined to remind you what only he can make you feel.
Because no matter how much you hate each other, at the end of the day your bodies will always betray you.
No matter how hard he tries to deny it:
He wants, craves and needs your body.
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← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →
(A/N: here it is, just as promised 🫠 ngl i havent written a fist fuck scene in so long so pls bear with me 😭 thank you so so so much for all the love and support my angels, i love and appreciate you all so much!🤍🫧 feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!)
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trippinsorrows · 2 months
Text
looking through your eyes + seven
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authors notes: so this one leaves probably more questions than answers, but there's also a lot of things sprinkled throughout, and all questions will be answered....eventually.
if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!
cw/tw: fluff, language, discussion of parental loss, brief (two line) flashback of aftermatch following csa, suggestive themes, ptsd trigger
song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes
masterlist
words: 8k
Solana: Are you busy today?
Normally, Roman would keep his phone face down during business meetings but with increasing communication with Solana, he’s leaned more on the side of having it face up so he’s aware when notifications come through. 
It’s not a priority. Just a…..preference. 
Grabbing his phone, he quickly shoots her back a text.
Roman: What do you need?
Before he can put his phone back down, those three dots appear. He keeps the thread open for her reply to slide in.
Solana: Nvm. I’m sorry to bother you.
Roman curses inwardly, barely keeping it to himself and not making the room of men aware of his frustrations. He can acknowledge Solana has slightly improved with her over–apologizing over the past couple weeks, but it’s moments like this that get him upset all over again. 
He fucking hates repeating himself.
But….
There’s that small, annoying ass, nagging voice in the back of his head that reminds him of why she’s always so apologetic, why she thinks her damn existence itself is an inconvenience. And he can’t really fault her, blame her for years of trauma fucking with her mental.
Roman: You’re apologizing again. How many times I gotta tell you to stop that shit?
It could probably, definitely, be worded better. Maybe even a bit…kinder. But Roman is a lot of things. 
Kind is not one of them.
He then adds, knowing she’ll probably try to find another excuse to not be honest with him. 
Roman: What do you need? The truth, Solana. 
There’s an appearance and disappearance of those dots at least three or four times. He can picture her biting down on her bottom lip as she tries to word what probably is a simple request as best she can.
The amount of overthinking she does has to be fucking exhausting.
Solana: I was just gonna see if you could meet me at the library. I wanted to show you something.
Solana: But, it’s not a big deal! Please forget I said anything.
A couple of things strike Roman strange, two in particular. The first being that as soon as she says what she needs, the answer is an automatic yes. Like, it’s not even something he really thinks too much about, but he also chalks it up to a level of genuine curiosity. This might be the first time she’s actually directly asked him for something.
It must be important. Important enough for her to ask him to come see whatever it is, at least.
It’s why he doesn’t even comment on her second, follow up text.
Roman: What time you get off?
He can make whatever work.
Solana: It’s okay. Really.
This damn girl….
Roman’s jaw clench as he types out a text that matches his mood. 
Roman: Solana….
She’s giving him a damn migraine. He’s not sure why he doesn’t just ignore her at this point. If it’s that fucking important, she wouldn’t be giving him such a hard time.
But then the stupid nagging voice returns, reminding him that her even asking in the first place is a huge deal that shouldn’t necessarily be shot down because of lingering struggles that are probably going to be around for a while.
Solana literally has years of baggage and trauma she needs to heal from.
And that shit doesn’t happen overnight.
Solana: 3pm
Roman blows out a breath. Fucking finally. 
He lays his phone back down, not necessarily wanting to hear any pushback or counter arguments she might try to supply, fake ass reasons she wants to back away from her assertive request. 
Not happening. 
Roman: I’ll be there.
“Jey.” Roman’s deep voice cuts through the group who set their eyes on him. “I need you and Jimmy to handle the Barrett meeting for me.”  While the twins are annoying as shit majority of the time, they’re effective all of the time. Roman has trusted countless meetings with them, and none have turned out badly. They always get shit handled. 
His cousins both echo okayness with this change in plans, as expected. The same way Roman expected his Wise Man to be the one with questions.
“My Tribal Chief, we’ve had this meeting scheduled for weeks. What could possibly be more important?”
It’s a fair question, Roman isn’t too stubborn to admit that. But, it’s also not a question that applies. Again, it’s not that Solana is important, per se, it’s just that if his alternative is dealing with Barret’s loquacious business dealings, he’d prefer Solana.
He’s also partially intrigued by the mere fact she’d even had the balls to ask something of him in the first place. It’s promising. Assertiveness has always been more attractive to him than passiveness. 
Roman’s answer is both simple and vague. “I have somewhere to be.”
“But—”
“Wise Man.”
Paul’s childlike smile deepens suddenly, as if he’s been picked to be fucking line leader. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”
“Who’s the Tribal Chief?”
Rikishi is the only one to offer a visible reaction, hiding his chuckle. He knows exactly where this is going, even if his decades old friend does not. 
“Y–you are, my Tribal Chief.”
Romans voice is sharp and lethal. “So why the fuck are you asking me to answer to you?”
Paul’s expression pales. “I would never, my—”
“Sound like it to me,” Jimmy’s messy ass chimes in. He looks at Jey. “What you think, Uce?”
“Sound like it to me too.” Jey, as expected, agrees. Only for him to nearly fall back in his seat when he jumps up so both feet are on the expensive ass leather. Roman is annoyed all over again for a new reason. “Ayo, Uce, ya’ll got a rat problem!”
At that, Jimmy is twinning with his brother in more than just appearance, also with his feet off the floor and onto the leather chair. Roman hopes they both fall over and break their goddamn necks. Rikishi can handle Barrett just fine.
“Ain’t you like a goddamn billionaire? How the hell you got Stuart Little and his fam running around your crib!”
Roman’s gaze follows the line of vision the twins are so damn focused on only to be met with Dulce calmly walking past both of them to sit in front of him, looking up with a tilted head. 
She’s clearly looking for Solana. 
And he knows this because it’s become a bit of a habit. If he’s home and she’s not, Dulce’s nosy ass seems to seek him out as if he’s supposed to magically make her owner appear. It’s not something he’s brought up to Solana, because he knows she would just freak the fuck out and over apologize for Dulce “bothering” him. 
And that’s not the case. 
It’s a bit annoying, but it’s not a bother.
His staff keep an eye out for her when Solana works, and he’s even seen Solana come back to the house on her lunch breaks to check in Dulce, so he doesn’t mind. She’s keeping up her end of the deal, being the primary caretaker for the puppy. 
“That’s Solana’s dog.”
Jimmy’s bewildered gaze is on him. “This a dog?”
“Yes.”
“You let her get a dog? Like a real ass dog?”
“You fucking see her, don’t you?” At that moment, Dulce calmly lays down on the floor next to Roman’s feet which are literally bigger than her small ass. It’s followed up by Paul starting to sneeze. 
Jey, who is now sitting back in his chair like a normal human being, points out, “man, you hate dogs.”
Naturally, Roman goes a bit on the defense, shoulders straightening. “I don’t hate them.”
Jimmy makes a sound, also with his feet planted on the ground. “Bruh, you literally use to tell us when we was growing up, ‘I hate dogs.’ That’s why we started calling you Big Dog, cause it was funny to see you get all mad and shit.”
Roman may or may not remember that, but it doesn’t mean he’s going to acknowledge it. Besides, he’s allowed to change his mind. Hate was always probably too strong of a word to use anyway. 
There are a lot of things Roman hates, even more people that he hates, but dogs are not on the list. 
It was more irritation than anything.
“Whatever.”
“What’s her name?” Rikishi asks, bending over his chair to try to catch Dulce’s attention.
Roman watches the puppy gradually make her way over his cousin, ears dropping as he gently rubs the top of her head. “Dulce.”
“Dul–what?”
This…..this is why Roman is on high blood pressure medication, why Dr. Michaels recommended he start wearing one of those smart watches to monitor his heart rate and other shit. Not that he did it.
“Dulce. It’s Spanish.”
“Aw man, why you ain’t say that in the beginning?” Jimmy turns to Jey. “The dog only speak Spanish.” He looks over at his dad who now has Dulce in his lap, continuing to pet her. Roman rolls his eyes. This dog is a damn attention whore, just like he predicted. “Hola, lil’ chalupa.”
Jey punches his brother on the arm. “Uce, you can’t be saying that kind of shit. It’s racist.”
“No, it’d be racist if I called the dog Taco Bell since her mama half Mexican, but I ain’t do that shit, cause I like Soso.”
“Stop calling her that.” 
Jimmy avoids Roman’s warning and proceeds to ask with all of the intrigue. “So not only did you let her bring a dog up in here, but you let ole’ girl pick a rat for said dog?”
Already irritated and on edge, Roman isn’t sure why Jimmy’s question irritates him as much as it does, and not even because it's a question that’s being posed when he’s trying to review a contract. It’s that Jimmy is questioning Solana’s decision in general.
He answers as calmly as he’s capable of responding. Roman also notices that Paul is red as a tomato as he pulls out an Epipen. Roman easily brings his focus back to Jimmy. “It’s what she wanted.”
“Should have got a big dog,” Jey suggests, hovering over by Rikishi as he tries to interact with Dulce whose eyes are fluttering closed. Roman swears this damn dog sleeps 23 out of the 24 hours in the day. 
That answer is simple, Roman grabbing a pen to sign off on the contract in front of him. It’s satisfactory enough. “She’s scared of them.”
“What is she not scared of?”
But that comment, for whatever reason, is what makes him snap. “Get out.”
Both the twins are unfazed, but it seems to trigger something for them as Jimmy exclaims, “I forgot!” He looks over at Jey, reminding. “Remember, Soso made some extra food for us.”
“Oh shit, she sho’ did!” 
Roman makes a mental note to write Solana about that. It’s not her job to keep feeding his grown ass, married ass cousins. 
The two bid their farewell, Jey shouting out as his parting term, “yeet!”
“Stop doing that,” Roman calls after their retreating forms as Paul also excuses himself for some air. 
Maybe he really is allergic to dogs. 
Rikishi stands up and walks over to him, still holding Dulce but not saying anything. He’s just looking like he wants to say something. Another of Roman’s pet peeves, of the many.
With a mutter and scowl, he asks, “what?” 
His cousin simply shrugs, nonchalantly commenting. “The girl is growing on you, Uce.” It’s an assessment, for certain.
However, Roman has zero desire to have this conversation with his older cousin, or anyone, in general. Hence, his vague ass reply of, “she’s tolerable.”
Because that’s the truth. Solana is neither amazing nor insufferable. She’s in a pretty balanced space between the both: tolerable.
Rikishi gives him that sly ass look that makes Roman want to punch him in his fucking face. “E tua le fale tele i le faleo’ o.”
It’s an old Samoan proverb that means “Even the mighty need others.”
Instantly, Roman’s gaze is cutting. “I don’t need anyone.” He never has, and he never will.
Rikishi just offers a knowing smile, lowering Dulce back to the ground and placing a hand on Roman’s shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “Of course not, Uce. Of course not.” The older man says nothing else, just walking out, Dulce returning back to stand by Roman’s feet, head up, staring at him.
He rolls his eyes, murmuring as he gets back to work. “She’ll be home later.” 
Dulce barks in response. 
________
The minute Roman pulls up to Solana’s job, sees the expression on his cousin’s face, he knows something is up.
Solo may have a dangerously good poker face, but Roman invented that shit. 
He got the blueprint from Roman. 
Solana is sitting near the front of the building, surrounded by fucking children as she reads some basic ass book that they’re all clearly eating up based upon how they can’t seem to take their eyes off her.
Roman isn’t entirely indifferent, instantly taking note of her outfit, more colorful, less covered. It reeks of Naomi’s influence, but in a good way. 
As always, she looks good, better than good.
Not wanting to interrupt, Roman motions for a few of his men to take Solo’s place as he gestures for his younger cousin to follow him.
As soon as they’re outside the building, Roman gets right into it. “You got something to say, so say it.” 
Roman knows his cousin well enough to know that despite his brutal fighting abilities, the man is always careful and meticulous with his words. Unlike his hot headed older brother, Jey, Solo always thinks before he acts.
It’s why Roman doesn’t think twice about the space between the issuance of his prompt and Solo’s answer.
“You made me your enforcer for a reason, yeah?”
It’s an easy answer. “Yes.” 
“You upped me in the ranks to prove myself, right? To earn my way into the inner circle?”
Roman is already bored with the conversation, but considering this is family, he throws a bone. “Yeah.”
“So just how am I supposed to do that when you got me playing babysitter to your new wife?” The turn in topics as well as increase in Solo’s volume does slightly, very slightly, take Roman by surprise. Granted, he does a masterful job, as always, hiding that surprise. “Any lower guy could do this shit. She don’t—”
“Solo.” Roman gives him that tight smile and scratches his beard, typically the last thing people see before they meet their maker. “You answer to me. You do what I say you do, and I say you’re assigned to Solana.”
Roman doesn’t know what’s in the fucking water for people to be testing him the way they are, but it’s really starting to piss him off.
Solo looks down, clearly embarrassed by this talk down but not enough to shut his mouth. “I get that, but—”
“Wasn’t she already hurt once under your watch?” Roman’s voice is razor sharp as he reminds the younger man of his failure. The memory of that fucking bruise on Solana’s wrist from her bitch of a brother returning all of those strong emotions. “I gave you a job, and you didn’t do it. She got hurt while under your protection. It’s because you’re my cousin, you're even still breathing right now. You know better than anyone I don’t accept failure.”
At that, Solo concedes, knowing good and well there is no excuse or justifiable reason. “I understand, my Tribal Chief.”
Roman does his best to chip away some of his anger at this outright disrespect as well as the memories of Solana hurt. He steps past his cousin, calling out over his shoulder. “And Solo, don’t think because you’re family I won’t put a bullet in your head for questioning me.” Out of the corner of his eye, Roman can see Solo still has his head down. “Fail me again, let her get hurt again, and I’ll put your ass six feet under.”
Roman doesn’t allow the conversation to persist beyond that, big steps taking him back to the library just in time to see the children disperse, whipping past him as Solana approaches. The wedges on her feet give her a bit more height, but he still towers over her, which is a usual experience for him.
But, it doesn’t negate the fact that she’s so damn small.
“Hi,” she greets in that familiar unsure voice, eyes darting from him to the ground. “Sorry—I mean—story time ran a bit over.”
He’s appreciative she at least caught the apologizing before he had to call it out. “It’s fine.”
She offers a tight smile and motions for him to follow her, which he does, just as his eyes follow the sway of her ass as she leads the way.  
He’s starting to really enjoy seeing her in jeans. 
She leads him up the stairs and in the back area he’d visited her before what seems like so long ago, finding that her bastard of a brother had manipulated her into being alone with him. The last fucking time that shit will ever happen.
She pulls a key out her back pocket and unlocks the door, informing, “I have to grab something first.”
He doesn’t say anything, just nods. It’s like she feels the need to justify every little thing she does. 
Roman watches her walk over to the desk, leaning over as she grabs him something out of her bag, a notebook, the journal he first found her writing in the first time he came to see her at her place of employment. 
She’s back by him, closing and locking the door. “Come on.”
Typically, if this was anyone else, Roman would have demanded to know just what the fuck was so important that caused him to have to rearrange his whole schedule. Granted, he can’t take that out on her, nor would he ever, when he’s the one who rearranged his whole schedule for her. She didn't ask him to do that shit. 
He did it on his own volition for reasons unknown. 
The walk to the next stop doesn’t take long at all, Solana soon sticks her key in another, unfamiliar door, opening and stepping aside but directing him to walk in.
He does as such, naturally and instantly taking in his surroundings once she hits the light switch. It’s a room obviously, a previous storage room he would guess based upon the large filing cabinet lined against the wall to the right of him. There’s also another couple pieces of furniture against that same wall, like a desk and mini bookshelf, but that’s not what immediately catches his attention.
He’s instead more interested by the remaining walls that are essentially lined with larger, white bookshelves, all filled with a combination of notebooks, books, and journals. Completely filled. 
Intrigued but also confused, the latter of which is unfamiliar to him, Roman turns to Solana, asking, “what is this?”
Her cheeks redden, but she manages an answer that’s somehow not marked by as much stuttering. “There are all my journals—well,” she stops, giving a nervous laugh. “Most of them. Some are books I’ve read, and….” She walks over to a section that somehow seems different from the others, albeit lined up neatly with the rest of the items. Solana’s hand almost hesitantly feathers over the spines of the journals. At closer look, Roman can see they’re a bit dated and worn than the others. “These were my mother’s.”
Her answer surprises him, but he quickly recalls her sharing that she started writing because of her mother, because they wrote to each other.
She clears her throat and then turns back to him, sharing, “every time I finish a journal, I leave it here.”
Obviously. “Why here?”
“My mom started it. It—it was an arrangement she had with Mrs. Jensen. She worked here, and along with her pay, she arranged so she could keep her writings here and after….” Solana starts to hesitate, and Roman can see it’s because emotion is brewing. Just gently bubbling under the surface. “After she died, I kept up with it.”
Roman recognizes the sensitive nature of the subject and makes a subtle effort to change the topic on her behalf. “You’ve really written in all of these?” It’s impressive. He has to give her that. The thought of writing in general has never appealed to him, so for her to have a room full of journals she’s completed is fucking impressive. 
She nods, adding sheepishly, “filled em’ up.” Solana then takes the one in her hand, lifting it a bit. “Finished this one this morning.” He watches her squeeze it into a row that’s probably already being pushed to the limit.
She’s going to run out of space eventually.
She’ll need something bigger, sooner rather than later. Roman compartmentalizes this for a later date and time to navigate.
“You keep em’ here to hide them also, don’t you?”
“They can never know what I’ve written….” She doesn’t need to say who they are. It’s more than obvious. It’d be a sure death wish. “I just—-I know you said you’d write for now and it’s been almost a month, but—but I—I figured if you knew just how important and helpful writing is to me—”
“Solana.” There’s no need for her long ass, drawn out explanation. He understands now why she wanted him to see this space, the goal behind the request. “We’ll write as long as you need it.”
He watches her shoulders drop, a sign of relief. She bites back a smile he wouldn’t be opposed at seeing. She looks even better when she’s smiling. “Thank you.”
He only nods, and Solana finds herself taking him in. 
All of him.
In recent weeks, she’s discovered yet another newfound difficulty and source of anxiety for herself. And that new addition would happen to be in the form of the 6’3 man before her.
Roman has always made her nervous, for a variety of good and valid reasons, but recently, the cause of that anxiety has shifted to something else, something a bit on the unfamiliar side for her, or rather something she hasn’t really had to think about since her last disastrous relationship.
Attraction
Solana has come to terms with the fact that she’s attracted to Roman, yes, but also that she hasn’t the slightest clue of what to do about and with that said attraction.
It’s always been there, to a certain extent, but it was more dormant, something she knew was present but voiceless and nameless, almost invisible.
Now, in interacting and engaging with him more, it’s formed more defining characteristics, creating a sense of butterflies in her stomach whenever his smoldering gaze falls on her or when he says something to her, that deep, baritone voice sprouting goosebumps on the back of her neck.
It also doesn’t help that he’s indicated a couple of different times now that he also finds her attractive, or pretty, beautiful even.
That he thinks she looks good.
None of that makes sense to Solana nor can she understand why he would believe any of those things, but she would never make him out to be a liar, so it must be true, to some extent.
And therein lies the dilemma. 
One of many that exist in her life.
How she’s supposed to balance attraction with fear, desire with aversion, peace with trauma. It’s all a muddled mess. 
“Solana.”
“Sorry.” He only has to sigh one time for her shoulders to sulk, but instead of apologizing, she points out in a small voice. “It’s—it’s a habit.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a fucking habit to break.” His irritation is palpable, and Solana feels even smaller around him, like she’s done something wrong. “It’s not you I’m annoyed with.”
“Oh.” And that genuinely surprises her. In Solana’s experience, she’s always been the source of people’s, especially the men in her life, exasperation. But before she can step out of her comfort zone and ask him what’s wrong, he informs her of something that completely makes her emotions flip and twirl into a puddle of distress.
“Your father called for you today.” And just like that, any sense of relation and ease she’d achieved is dissipated, replaced with growing unrest. “Relax…” It’s not missed upon Solana how Roman’s tone quickly and almost easily jumps from irritated to almost soothing, like he’s trying to calm his nerves. “I told him to fuck off.”
That doesn’t make her feel any better. “He doesn’t like being told no.”
“And you think I give a fuck?” His deep voice is full of indifference and edge, but this time around, Solana knows it’s not directed towards her. He then asks, “do you want to talk to him?”
It takes her off guard. “What?”
Roman repeats himself with a surprising lack of irritation. “Do you want to talk to him?” 
Solana can’t remember the last time she was asked such a question. Been given a choice. Then again, it’s happened quite a few times since her marriage to Roman, starting with Bayley asking her something as simple as how she wants her makeup done. 
She doesn’t know what to make of that. Just another thing added to that mounting list of confusing and conflicting thoughts and feelings. 
“If you want to, I’ll allow it.” He quickly adds the caveat. “But not without me present.”
Prior to the past couple weeks, Solana would suspect Roman’s stipulation stems from a place of possessiveness. But now….now it feels like it comes from someplace else, something so unfamiliar and foreign. 
Protectiveness. 
It feels like he’s being protective of her. 
His proclamation from earlier returns to the forefront of her mind.
“I’m not going to let anyone lay a fucking hand on you.”
He’d also included a list of people he wouldn’t allow to do as such, including her dad and brother, which is why he clearly would only let Solana speak to her father if he’s around. 
It’s just the why that has her stumped.
But, back to the question being posed, the easiest and most simple answer is no. She’d rather not be around someone who’s only ever left her hurt, emotionally and/or physically. Or allocated that task to her brother. 
Not to mention the fact that the only reason he probably wants to talk to her is to discuss this nefarious plot she still refuses to allow herself to think about because it’s so inconceivable. 
“Not really,” she answers after what feels like forever, “but…”
Roman picks up on her hesitation. “But?” 
“Like I said, my–my father doesn’t like being denied.” And before he can protest or again reiterate his outright indifference to her father’s feelings, Solana adds in a quiet voice, “and I usually end up being the one to pay for it.”
Roman steps towards her, and before she can process what’s happening, his finger is under her chin, tugging so that her head is lifted, eyes locked with his. 
His voice lowers, quietly asking, “you still don’t believe me when I say I won’t let anyone hurt you, huh?” It’s rhetorical, sure, but Solana is too focused on the fact that this man is touching her. It’s as innocent as innocent comes, but it’s still touch, something she usually hides away from like the plague. However, outside of the initial shock and borderline discomfort, Solana doesn’t jump away, doesn’t feel the need to put as much distance between them. She’s almost….almost comfortable.
“I’m going to kill them both, eventually.  Fucking with them in the meanwhile only makes the outcome that much more worthwhile. But…” And the surprises keep coming, especially as he makes her aware of his intentions. “One word. All I need is one fucking word from you. That you want them gone, and it’s done. No questions asked.” 
Power.
Solana wonders if this is what power feels like, the ability to say one single word and have a life be ended. How she feels about those lives belonging to her brother and father remains to be seen, but even being given such an option, such an almost promise, it’s an indescribable experience.
Roman’s brown eyes, light and contrasting everything about him that is sharp and hard, study her. “You understand me?”
Naturally, she nods against his index finger that’s under her chin, demanding maintained eye contact. 
“I need words.” It’s a reminder from the infamous wedding night, something that seems so far in the rearview mirror now. 
“Y–yes.”
He seems pleased by this acknowledgment, enough to pull his hand away from her, Solana trying not to make too much of the strange sensation that floats in her stomach at the absence of his touch. 
Roman suddenly offers. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll up your security detail.” Before she can protest and probably apologize if she’d unintentionally indicated it wasn’t already enough, he asks, “you get off at 3 every day?”
“Essentially, y–yes.” 
“I’ll start meeting you.”
The surprises just keep on coming.
Instantly, she feels bad, shaking her head. “You don’t have to—”
“Solana.” This man must get tired of having to say her name, she’s certain of that. “I’ll meet you.” He says the same thing, but this time, she knows not to push back because it’s a done thing. “Just make sure I have your updated work schedule.”
“Wh—what about Solo?”
“He’ll still be assigned to you for any other outings.” This makes her feel a little better, that he’s not entirely rearranging and inconveniencing himself for her. “You ready to go?”
Yes. No. Maybe. There’s so many different questions she has with only a select number of answers, but in this moment, she goes with the one that feels most right. 
Especially with Roman reaching for her hand.
Nodding, she swallows and accepts his gesture, noticing how his large hand closes over hers, almost protectively.
“Yes.”
________
“That for me?” Solana looks up from the notebook she’s almost certain she’ll have filled and completed by the end of the month. Roman’s presence and question both catch her off-guard. She didn’t really expect to speak to him again today, especially after he already spent time with her earlier that day. She figured he’d had his maximum daily dosage. 
Especially after she’d already prepared and fixed dinner for him, the two of them falling into their now routine of him eating in his office, her in the living room before she makes her way out back to the patio where she either writes or, now, plays with Dulce.
Solana shakes her head, answering softly as Roman sits on the chair opposite her.  “no. It’s…”
“About your mom?”
With him now aware of the nature of some of her writing, she answers, “yeah.” Roman’s question triggers something she’s certain she intentionally never commented on because it was such a shock to her system that she really didn’t know how to respond. “When….when you said it wasn’t my fault….did—did you mean that?”
If she expected there to be delayed response or even confusion on his end, she was entirely wrong because he answers almost on the spot. “Yes. I told you, I wouldn’t lie to you.”
She’s starting to believe that. 
Wetting her lips, she informs in that same small voice, “no one’s ever said that to me before.”
Xavier’s unshaven face and dark, judgmental gaze is focused on her, Solana doing her best to ignore the pain that wrecks her body, the beeping of the machines and IV’s in both her arms. The throbbing between her legs is equally scary as it is confusing. What did they do to her, and why did it hurt so much?
He pulls the cigar from his mouth, dropping and stomping it on the floor, gruff voice asking, “why didn’t you fight back?” He shakes his head, spitting at the same spot that’s littered with remnants of one of many poor habits. “You’re weak just like your mother.”
Roman’s firm voice snatches her away from spiraling too deeply in dark memories of an even darker past. She does her best to shake away any sign she was about to dissociate when he surprises her for what feels like the 10th time today, almost quietly sharing, “My mother was killed when I was ten years old.” There’s a synchronous dropping of her mouth and stomach at the exact same time. “You think that shit was my fault?”
The answer is obvious and immediate. “No. Of–of course not. You were—you were just a kid.”
While her response is borderline automatic, coming from a place of pure logic, everything else is so confusing. Roman’s mother is….dead? Not even dead but murdered when he was a child?
Just like hers.
Solana doesn’t know how to process this. It’s not until this very moment that she realizes not once has she ever considered or thought about his immediate family, like parents and even siblings. At the wedding, so many people were present, obvious family members of his, but she’s just now realizing she never considered who was who. Were they all cousins, aunts, in-laws even? 
Where is the rest of his immediate family? Better yet, who makes up his immediate family? She’s aware of the twins and even his older cousin Rikishi, but is there not more?
“So were you.” She can’t tell if Roman intentionally works to redirect the focus back onto herself or if he’s unaware of the fact she’s suddenly wondering just how much about the man across from her she still knows nothing about it. “So why is it different for you?”
It’s an effective diversion and valid question that she’s never once asked herself.
“No one’s ever said that either.” Her voice is only a couple octaves above a whisper, and Solana finds herself sharing more than she’s probably ever divulged to anyone. “When I….when I’m writing, a lot of the times, I’m writing letters to my mom.” Having this conversation with anyone, let alone Roman, of all people, wasn’t on her life agenda. But, it seems like a lot of ‘nevers’ are gradually morphing into ‘actualities.’
It’s such a strange experience, too.
“Like I said, we used to write to each other, and after….after she was killed, I couldn’t find it in me to stop. I think at the beginning, I kept doing it because….because I didn’t want to accept she was gone.” The understanding and underlying emotion shifts to the surface, resulting in her quickly wiping at her eyes to keep the tears from falling. “Like I was waiting for her to write me back.” It’s not missed upon Solana how Dulce suddenly moves closer, tucking her body right up against Solana’s thigh. “And I’ve kept at it over the years, cause—she was the only person I could ever talk to.”
Roman repeats the same message he wrote to her, almost reminding her of a lifeline she’s gradually starting to realize is available for the first time in almost twenty years. “You can talk to me, Solana.”
And she is. She doesn’t know how and especially why, but she is, and as heavy as the topic is, there’s a hint of relief at finally having another living, breathing person to speak to and with about these things. 
Especially…..especially someone who can maybe relate to her. “How did you do it—how did you….move past it?”
It’s not the best wording, she’s certain of that. Losing a parent. Having a parent be murdered isn’t something one gets over. 
Solana knows this better than most, but Roman….he’s so composed, so together, so unbroken. 
So unlike her. 
His expression darkens as he answers in an eerie but calm voice. “I got my revenge, and I killed every single son of a bitch who played a role.” His delivery unsettles her a bit, but he seems to easily shift back into that almost patient tone she’s only ever heard him use….with her. “But, I’m not like you, Solana. You're innocent. My ledger bleeds red.” Solana doesn’t know what it looks or even sounds like for Roman to be uncomfortable, but his delivery in the next part definitely feels as such.  “I don’t….feel things like you do. You feel everything. I feel nothing.”
She whispers. “I wish I was like that, that I didn’t feel.” Because it’s true. Because it’s how she initially started to self harm, because she wanted to feel something other than emotional pain. Even physical pain was better than the anguish that racked her every day, 24/7.
He’s quick to shut that down, to tell her the complete opposite. “No, you don’t. That would mean you’ve lost that innocence you have.”
That actually makes Solana smile, chuckle, but there’s not an ounce of humor as she shakes her head. “I–I lost my innocence a long time ago.” Stolen. It was stolen from her a long time ago is the more appropriate way to word it. Stomach a complete freaking mess, she does her best to power through her anxiety at what she’s about to tell him. “Roman…..I—”
“Ayo, Uce—”
“What!” Roman snaps, Solana jumping back away from him, hypervigilance back on high and alert. He briefly casts his gaze back in her direction, and she can almost swear she sees a speck of guilt. Like he’s apologetic for scaring her. 
Jimmy, however, is unfazed by his cousin’s temper. He’s lived with it his whole life. Ain’t nothing new. “Rhodes men were on Bloodline territory—”
“What?” At that, Roman’s head snaps back in Jimmy’s direction. And Solana watches as any sign of Roman, patient and almost kind, is replaced almost instantly with that same cold, stoic demeanor that could strike fear in the heart of even the strongest man. 
He stands up, hands on his hips as he moves a bit away from her. Solana also stands, fighting her urge to move closer to him. 
Jimmy also presents with a seriousness she’s never seen in him, never even really knew he was capable of, to be honest. “We got three guys down. Another two critically injured.”
Roman curses, turning away, back toward Jimmy and her. He then asks, “you got a location on em’ yet?”
“Pearce should have it any minute now.”
“Good. Let’s go.” Roman nods, stepping away from Solana and in the direction of Jimmy just as Dulce walks over, clearly wanting Solana to pick her up. She must also pick up on the sudden shift in the atmosphere. 
Dulce in her arms, Solana finds herself calling for Roman. “What—”
“Not now.” His dismissal is sharp and sudden. It shouldn’t hurt her feelings, because it’s obvious he’s in an entirely different zone now, but it does. 
Solana sinks back into her shell of silence as Solo steps forward. “You want me—”
“Stay with Solana. She doesn't step foot outside this fucking house, you understand me?” Roman’s orders are indisputable, an almost sense of urgency in his tone. “Heighten security around the premises.”
Solana has so many questions. Just what is going on? Why is Roman so on edge all of a sudden? Who is Rhodes and why do they present such an imminent threat where Roman marches out the house, Jimmy on his heels without even a second glance at her.
It’s all so confusing. 
“You need to get inside.” Solo’s equally stoic reminder, command maybe, pulls her from her thoughts. And Dulce suddenly growling at Solo definitely redirects her focus.
“Shhh. It’s just Solo,” she comforts, petting and trying to calm the puppy who quickly upgrades her growling to barking. This also confuses the mess out of Solana.  
She’s not sure she’s ever seen Dulce both growl and bark at someone.
Wordlessly, she walks in the house, past Solo who she notices makes sure to lock the door behind them. 
“Stay in your room," he instructs, and while she has more questions than anything, his austere tone is more than enough for her to not push back. 
Dulce will just have to use the crate if she has to use the bathroom. 
Without another word, Solo carries Dulce up the stairs and into her room where she lays the puppy in her bed and Solana climbs onto her.
Chewing on her bottom lip, she grabs her phone and opens up the latest group text thread she was messaging in. 
Solana: Can I ask you guys something?
Their replies come in not even five minutes later. 
Bayley: Of course!
Naomi: Anything.
Without allowing herself too much time to overthink it, Solana sends out the simple question.
Solana: Who or what is Rhodes?
Solana: Roman just rushed out of here after Jimmy said something about Rhodes men being on Bloodline territory. I’m not allowed to leave the mansion.
Just like the start of the conversation, the replies come in almost instantaneously. 
Naomi: Fuck.
Naomi: Yes, stay put. Solo’s there with you, right?
Solana: Yes.
Solana’s anxiety is only growing. Naomi sounds just as intense as Jimmy and Roman were. 
Her follow up text doesn’t do anything to help the confusion either.
Naomi: The less you know, the better. The guys will handle it.
Handle what, though? That’s what Solana really wants to know. What is the story here, and why did this Rhodes person or group have Roman so wired. 
Just then, another notification comes through. From Bayley, but in their individual thread and not the group chat. 
Solana switches over, reading her messages as they arrive almost back to back. 
Bayley: Rhodes is a person, but…that’s a complicated story.
Bayley: And I'd feel bad telling someone else’s story, but what I can tell you is that Rhodes is Cody Rhodes, head to the Nightmare Factory, the Bloodline’s biggest opp. Tensions have been at an all time high for like two generations with countless bodies dropped on both sides. It’s always a bloodbath when they’re in the same vicinity. 
Solana is regretting even asking anything in the first place. Bloodbath when they’re in the same vicinity, the same vicinity Roman is heading for as she types. Her shoulders drop, anxiety starting to shift to a new target. 
Concern for his safety.
Bayley: If you’re somehow ever in a situation where someone from the Nightmare territory is around, get the hell out of dodge. They won’t hesitate to kill you, especially with you being Roman’s wife.
Bayley: Or Rollins. Seth Rollins. Especially him. Guy is fuckin’ psycho.
Solana: Rollins?
Bayley: Roman, Seth, and Cody used to be friends a long time ago, like way long ago, and it just….it went bad. Really really fucking bad, and Cody and Roman have hated each other since. Like, I don’t know if hate is even a strong enough word for how much they can’t stand each other. 
Solana: But why?
Bayley never replies. 
________
Roman doesn’t step back into the house until almost 4am. He feels every bit exhausted as he probably looks, more physical than anything, some mental, maybe more than he’d like to admit.
Dealing with anything Nightmare related typically has that impact on him.
Solo meets him at the door, looking as on alert as he did when Roman first saw him at the ass crack of dawn this morning. 
The first thing to leave Roman’s mouth isn’t intentional as much as it is unintentional. “How was she?”
Solo motions to the marble flooring leading to the spacious living room. “She’s waiting for you.”
Roman wasn’t expecting to hear that, and he’s certain it shows in his facial expression. “What? Why? Why is she still up?”
Solo shrugs. “You’ll have to ask her. She don’t talk to me.” Which is more Solo’s preference anyway. It’s his job to protect her, not be her fucking friend. “Everything good?” Roman nods but doesn’t say anything, still stuck on the fact that Solana is still up. “Imma head out.”
Roman’s response is as distant as his expression. He doesn’t care whether Solo stays or leaves. “Alright.”
Once his enforcer is out the house, Roman sure enough finds Solana sitting on the sofa, legs crossed, notebook in her lap as she writes away.
“Solana.”
She gasps, clearly taken by surprise, but when her head lifts and her eyes land on him, she untangles her legs and moves the journal to the side. Solana walks over to him, keeping a distance that makes sense for her. “You’re back….”
“What are you still doing up? Don’t you have work in a couple hours?”
“It’s okay.” She shakes her head, adding sheepishly, “I–I don’t sleep much anyway.” He knows this well. “I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Her eyes widen as she hones in on the nasty looking cut near the middle of his hairline. “You’re hurt….”
It’s really not until she says anything that Roman remembers the only “injury” he received from tonight’s bloodbath. “It’s fine.” He then redirects the focus to the main topic at hand. “Solana, you don’t have to wait up for me.”
She ignores him, actually ignores him and instead reaches up to feel the cut that’s maybe a bit more deeper than he realized because her feather light touch brings a bit of a sting. 
“You need stitches.” It doesn’t sound like a suggestion, and he realizes as such following her next surprising action. She takes his hand and leads him into the kitchen, motioning for him to sit down on the stool as she pulls out the medical kit from under the sink. 
Similar to the night of WarGames, she moves in between his open legs and starts tending to his cut, meticulously and carefully stitching him up.
She says not a word, and neither does he. Truthfully, it’s more an unconscious thing than conscious, like neither knows what or if to say something. Especially considering both are currently feeling more than what they know how to properly verbalize, or verbalize at all, really. 
“There….” Roman can tell when she’s done. She gently runs her fingers over her diligent work, her eyes focused on the source of her apparent concern when all he wants is for her to look at him, for her eyes to lock on him. “I think I’m—” And just as Solana goes to move away, to step back and clean up, she’s stopped. 
She’s stopped, because Roman reaches for her, keeping her near him.
His hand is initially on the small of her back, and Solana has the same experience from earlier. That initial tense feeling that quickly mellows into something almost calm, almost secure. 
She’s not sure she’s ever been this close to him, not since the last time she tended to his injuries, not since their wedding day, since their wedding night.
But unlike that last almost traumatic time, she’s not pummeled with anxiety, not paralyzed with fear. 
It’s just the calm. 
His eyes never leave her, bouncing back and forth between her eyes and lips. He then says in a low voice that’s unlike anything she’s heard from him before. “Solana….”
There’s something different about the way he says her name, something more sincere, something almost….vulnerable. 
Roman suddenly has both hands on her hips, holding her, just as her nervous hand moves to lay her palm against his chest. 
His eyes instantly shut at her touch. Interactions with anything regarding Rhodes have always done something to Roman emotionally, but it’s always been something he can manage relatively well. Something simple and easy. There’s nothing simple and easy about whatever the fuck is coursing through him at having her so close to him, having her touch, soft and unsure as the expression in her eyes. 
She doesn’t know what to make of his eyes closing nor does she have time to consider what to make of that because an image, a flashback of a different kind of touch, a much more painful, visceral touch shoots to the forefront of her mind.
And her chest starts tightening, that fear drawing back up. 
“I–I can’t.” Because as much as some part of her, albeit big or small, likes this, likes being close to him, feels safe being this close to thim, another part, much larger and much stronger, can't handle being this close to him. “I’m sorry.” Eyes watering, she breaks away, Dulce is quickly behind her, Solana reaching to hold the puppy as she dashes up the stairs. 
Roman sits unsure, confused, angry. He stands up, pacing across the floor, hands up and on the side of his head before his fist slams against the refrigerator door. He curses, but not from the blow. That shit doesn’t hurt. 
His reaction and frustration is directed solely toward the fact that he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s feeling right now.
The same thing Solana is struggling with as she sits on her bed, legs pulled up to her chest, silently crying into her thighs.
Both of them wondering the same exact thing:
What the hell just happened?
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