#besties that attack on sight

[marosii]

How illumi says hello

Inspired by this gif

[soleadita]

SUPRISE ATTACK ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

OMG HELLOOOOO TROUBLE 🤩 SURPRISE ATTACK RIGHT BACK <33333

[kristophliker]

[kookslastbutton]

Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | chapter one

✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?

pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader

genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love,

word count: 6.5k+

warnings: oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, body insecurities, fear of being blacklisted, emotionally restrained yoon, unstable parental relationships, conservative parents, rude Hybe executive that should be fired, bestie!tae is wonderful support 🥹, and cute yoon and oc interactions bc yeah....its thier first time actually meeting so it must be cute!

now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets

a/n: YAHHH chapter one!! Ok i apologize if the meeting is so long and drawn out...I really tried to make it fun but so much info is needed too haha. Anyway this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!

Series Masterlist | next chapter >>

Winter in Seoul feels like stepping onto the set of your most beloved holiday film.

As the brisk air wraps around you, delicate snowflakes gather atop your head, urging you to cocoon in your finest wool trench coat. Yet, despite the chill, the sight of frost-bitten trees basking in the morning's golden rays offers a source of warmth and delight. Perhaps the most radiant tree of them all is the towering Christmas tree that sits proudly in the heart of the city. Adorned with shimmering red and gold baubles, the giant evergreen catches the eye of every person that walks by–both tourists and locals alike.

Nearby shopping malls buzz with holiday fervor too as shoppers scour for treasures, couples engage in friendly competition to find the ultimate gift, and children line up to take their picture with Santa. But the best part is when night falls. The whole city comes alive with joy and laughter as loved ones meet one another on the ice-skating rinks, while karaoke bars echo tipsy renditions of timeless songs sung by overworked professionals, each with a bottle of soju in hand.

Yes, Seoul is a place for making memories and you’re in the thick of it.

Having been in the city for three years, one might assume you’ve become well accustomed to the energy of the season. You've really grown to love it here. But adjusting to the new environment is still proving to be a challenge, the most outstanding being the prevailing beauty standards.

Massive billboards featuring stunning models serve as constant reminders of the type of beauty one should aim to achieve as you commute to work. Impossible to miss are the shining examples themselves – iconic k-pop groups Seventeen, Red Velvet, EXO, BlackPink, Mamamoo, TXT, and of course BTS plastered on the side of every flat surface imaginable. You’re not exactly complaining about that aspect as you’ve helped design a good handful of them as a top marketing and advertising professional. But the strict image of what constitutes a beautiful and worthy individual weighs on you more than you’d like.

While a conventional body type isn’t what you’ve been given in this life, you don’t consider yourself to be completely unattractive either. Having high cheekbones, a strong jawline, striking light brown eyes, good enough ass, and a full chest shouldn’t classify as undesirable. Still, you wish you’d adopt this more body positive mindset rather than your current overthinking one. It’s easier said than done, being that you not only see idols everyday on the streets in digital form but at work as well.

You continue further into city until a set of tall, glass doors meet you mere steps away. You tilt your head back to catch the name of the skyscraper before nearing the building’s sturdy, silver handle.

BigHit Music.

Feeling its cool metal under your fingertips, the door swings open with an easier pull than imagined to welcome you into the bustling lobby. You feel a rush of confidence return to you upon entering– this is your domain, this is where you truly shine.

“Did you get the files I sent to you?”

The woman nods her head in affirmation while sweeping a few pieces of her long, silky hair behind an ear. To strangers, she appears to look about 24 which is only four years younger than yourself but nonetheless she’s the same age as you. Hei-Ran is her name, meaning “graceful orchid” according to Korean translation.

Hei-ran is one of Hybe’s newest hires and based on her experience, a near perfect fit to being South Korean boy group Tomorrow X Together’s new marketing manager. Until about three months ago, this had been your job.

You never imagined giving up the position after three years of working in the role. But with December right around the corner Hybe had other plans for you.

"Graduated summa cum laude with a bachelors degree in BTech in Electrical and Electronics Engineering and a MBA in Marketing from NYU Stern. You worked two years as a brand manager for U.S record label Atlantic Records immediately after graduating, and are now working at BigHit Music as a marketing manager for TXT including liaison with their global marketing team.”

You recall Bang PD's voice vibrate in the back of your mind from mid-August. You thought you were called into his office to discuss details of TXT’s latest promo, so having your resume read back to you was a sweeping curve ball. Your determination must have far exceeded the heaviness you felt in your chest because before you knew it you, you were shaking hands with your boss in acceptance of your role – the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour.

The tedious knot that’s formed in the nape of your neck reminds you that as surreal as the situation might be, it’s undeniably real.

Months spent drafting a comprehensive marketing proposal for D-Day; often until the wee hours of the night, inevitably takes its toll on even the mightiest of warriors. An entire new team of fifty people, all of who you’ll be in charge of orchestrating for the next eight months, doesn’t provide much to relief either.

You’re excited nevertheless. Working with one of the most respected artists in the music industry is an opportunity you couldn’t let slip by, especially since the album’s rock-inspired genre aligns closely with your own music taste.

“Thank you so much for helping me get settled __,” Hei-ran’s gentle voice returns you to the present. “I appreciate the time you’ve taken these last few months to train me despite the tight deadlines you have.”

Smiling, you shake your head. “It’s no problem at all and if there’s anything you need in the future, feel free to give me a call or stop by my office.”

“On the 16th floor right?”

“1656A. Take a left off the elevator and walk to the end of the first hallway. The door on the right is mine.”

Referring to any room on the 16th floor as your own is something you don’t take lightly. For one the offices are double the size of any other office spaces in the building. Yours in particular has a giant skyscraper window draped with heavy white curtains. Secondly, the floor above is the 17th floor which is exclusive to Hybe artists only.

"How's the proposal coming along, by the way?" Her curiosity is palpable, genuine in its nature. You’ve always appreciated that in an individual.

“It’s done,” you respond. “Only thing left to do is to prepare for our meeting with C-suite executives next Monday. It’s nearly perfect as is, but the presentation could use a bit of refining in terms of organization.”

Hei-ran is silent for a moment longer than usual before her next inquiry, which is undoubtedly the question on both of your minds. “I can't help but wonder what it'll be like to meet him for the first time,” she muses.

You don’t bother asking for clarification on who the “him” is; you’re already well aware that it’s Min Yoongi. The same subject has managed to intrude your own thoughts more and more as the date of meeting him draws closer. It's peculiar honestly, considering you’ve encountered him before.

Granted, it was only a small handful of times the hallway, both heading in opposite directions. Min Yoongi typically greeted you with a hoarse 'Good Morning' those instances, along with a curt nod of his head. You would nod back with a brief 'Morning' yourself. Deep down you feel he'd make a quality friend, though it's only a premonition. It’s not like you actually know much about him beyond those small exchanges.

"I'm not sure what to expect, honestly," you admit. "I imagine it'll be similar to previous professional collaborations—composed, focused, and intense. D-Day is poised to become a global sensation for the next year, so it's going to need our full, undivided attention."

Hei-ran gives a knowing nod. “Good luck __,” she wishes you well as you head towards the elevator doors. Breaks over, back to work.

After another late-night prep session for Monday’s D-Day proposal, you trudge through your apartment door well past 8:30 pm with an empty stomach and a throbbing headache. Good news is that your graphic design team seems to be well on track with their album mockups ready to present.

The same can’t be said for your U.S. promo team however, who required additional guidance on their projects. The social media team was in a similar boat. Somehow several of their members lost track of time and were convinced the proposal was still two weeks away.

Despite the hiccups, you managed to tie up the loose ends, but it meant that none of you got to leave early.

When you finally get to curl up in your fluffy sofa, a loud, exasperated sigh leaves your lips. Your lids flutter shut too as you rest your head against the soft cushion. Silently, you make one last mental rundown of all the tasks you checked off today.

Did you miss anything?

D-Day is the most crucial project you’ve ever taken charge of—you need it to be flawless.

When nothing pressing comes to mind, you grab the tv remote from your dark oak coffee table and aimlessly flip through the channels. You’ll unwind for an hour and then call it a night.

Ten minutes into an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and the light chime of your phone's notification bell catches your ear.

Tae 💚: Haven’t heard from you all day. Everything alright?

Taehyung, your best friend. You smile fondly at his message as your thumbs hover over the reply button. He's always checking in on you. You and Taehyung have been friends ever since you first moved to Seoul and started working at Hybe. You didn't expect your friendship to become this strong, but both of you are sociable individuals, which led to discovering several unexpected commonalities. One of those is a shared love for jazz, which has been one of your all-time favorite genres for as long as you can remember.

You: yeah, I’m good. Just tired. Been working on D-Day's proposal for months and finally got it fully prepped for.

Tae 💚: Well, that's amazing news! You feel good about it?

You: I don't know. I’m definitely ready for this project but I’m also starting to feel a little burned out. The proposal is only the beginning you know, and it's already taking the wind out of me.

Tae 💚: Sorry to hear that 😞 I'm sure it must be draining, but I also know this is your territory. No one is more fit to head this project than you. Everyone thinks so. How about you take the weekend to rest?

You: Yeah...I'm watching B99 rn

Tae 💚: B99?! Without me?

You can't help but giggle. Somehow over the course of three years you've roped your best friend into becoming obsessed with your mindless sitcoms. You've done more than a handful of binge watching together, until all hours of the night.

You: Wanna come over for an hour?

The company might be nice.

Tae 💚: Be there in 20 🏃

Your door bells rings exactly twenty minutes after you and Taehyng finish exchanging texts. He's so prompt it scares you sometimes.

“Hey.” His deep, baritone voice greets you first, along with a friendly hug. Taehyung slips his snow covered boots off upon entering your apartment and hangs his wool jacket on your coat rack. His limited edition Gucci scarf is next. Taehyung loves the winter as it’s the time he can wear his most luxurious clothes.

“What’s this?” You peak inside a brown paper bag that Taehyung has conveniently set on your kitchen countertop. He flashes you a playful grin and gestures you to open it. Naturally, you're suspicious but it all washes away when a new, unopened bottle of whiskey presents itself. “Oh my god, you didn’t!" You swat his arm in a rush of excitement.

“I had to!" Taehyung opens a kitchen cupboard and grabs a glass from the top shelf. He's been in your apartment enough times that he’s grown comfortable with your place. That and he's also your best friend.

"With all the recent events you've had going on, I think it calls for a celebration." Taehyung expertly pours you a glass of the smooth, rich liquor and offers it to you.

“Thank you, Tae," you say, taking the glass from his hand. "Come sit down. Jake's about to sing I Want It That Way with the police lineup.” Taehyung pours himself a glass of Pinot Noir and follows your lead.

After about forty minutes of sitcoms and booze with your best friend you begin to feel yourself relaxing. Whatever challenges lies ahead, you know you'll be able to handle them one whiskey at a time.

All stream of thought is interrupted when your phone dings off again. It's now half past 9, who on earth is trying to reach you?

Fuck.

You tighten the grip on your phone as soon aa the message appears. Taehyung, previously occupied by the end credit scene, catches the sudden shift in your demeanor and calls your name but he's inaudible to you.

Mom: It’s been almost two weeks since we last heard from you. We know you're busy but your father and I want to know if you’ll be coming home. The holidays are coming up right? Why don't you use some of that time to come see us? There's someone we want you to meet.

"__, who is it?" Taehyung's voice manages to break your intense concentration.

“Just my mom.” You answer briefly, still averting eye contact.

“What’d she say?”

“She wants me to come home for the holidays.” You shut your phone off in an effort to calm yourself.

Unlike Taehyung your relationship with your parents has always been rocky. Expectations are set high from birth and you never see eye to eye. Likely, the only accomplishment that's earned genuine praise from them was when you accepted your initial job proposal with Hybe. A respectable career is only second to health to them after all. Your father was more torn with the news that you’d be moving hundreds of miles away than your mom however, not that you’re surprised.

Of course while having a healthy and respectable career is priority for your parents, there is no mistake that their greatest wish is to see their daughter married. A stable man with ample resources to provide her a secure home and healthy children is preferable.

You love your parents and you'll always be there for them, but you must admit that their traditional outlook is one you can never live up to. They tried setting you up dozens of times before, and tonight's request to have you come home "for the holidays to meet someone” is simply another attempt to marry you off.

Yes, you would like some sort of companionship in your life and you hope if you find it that they’ll approve. But giving your hand in marriage to the first notable suitor isn't your forte. You consider yourself to be an independent woman with a tender heart, and you'd rather be single for the entirety of your life than be forced into another obligation.

Preserving your independence is highly important to you. So no, you draw the line when it comes to relational affairs.

If only you could be firm and repeat all the above to them aloud, rather than within your own head— if only.

“So are you gonna go?"

You don't respond immediately, still weighing out your options. "Not sure," you murmur. "I don't really want to but maybe I should. I haven't gone home to see my parents since last year."

Taehyung recognizes the growing tension in your voice as well as the flushed expression playing on your face. He wishes he could take it all away but instead he moves closer to your side of the sofa and lets you rest your head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." He's silent for a moment before continuing. "Why don't you tell them you can't go because of work? There must be a number of things you'll need to get ahead of for Yoongi's album."

"True. But it's too easy, they won't buy that. I have to go."

"What if you say I invited you to celebrate with my family this year? We're going to a nice, cozy cabin a few hours north of here for Christmas."

The offer is temping and you know he means it but it's also not enough.

"No," you reject. "They'll think we're dating and ask to meet you."

"I'll do it!" Taehyung's voice lifts into a more playful tone, earning a soft chuckle from you.

"Very cute Taetae, but no. Neither of us are going to say 'that was a good idea' in the end, trust me. I'll have to make this decision on my own."

Taehyung grimaces slightly at your last choice of words. "I really think you should consider telling them you can't due to a full schedule. We don't get that much time off at the company any way. Don't your parents live at least 7-10 hours away? Come on, spend the holidays with me and the guys. Plus, it'll be my birthday soon. I want you there at my party."

When you look at your best friend to gently scold him for not so sneakily using the guilt tripping technique, he's pouting. Like a baby. Not even you can resist him with that face on.

"Fine. I'll think about it."

"Good," Taehyung chirps and snatches the tv remote to flip through episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. "I want you to be around those closest to you, especially around the holidays. You're my badass best friend who deserves more than some stupid forced marriage to a guy with an unhealthy alpha male complex. Should we top the night off with one more episode by the way?"

You nod and Taehyung hits play on the remote. "Thank you," you coo, feeling a tad better.

The weekend is a blur at best and you’re back at the office before you realize. Of course this is no ordinary work day however, given that today signifies the day you officially start work as D-Day’s marketing director. You’ve been perfecting every detail of the proposal like a madman since the beginning, meticulously obessing over every element. Your new team members must have a pretty eye-opening understanding of what it’ll be like having you as a lead for the next year–you pity them to be honest.

Between your fingers clutches a small tube of lip balm, berry flavored with a faint tint to match. You love chapstick for some odd, inexplainable reason and you felt the need to apply a generous amount of it on your lips for good luck.

“No one’s here yet,” Yi-joon, one of the members of your graphic design team, speaks first upon stepping foot into your assigned conference room. Others hum, unsurprised. Being the ones leading the presentation, you’d be startled if anyone actually arrived beforehand.

A grand mahogany table, seating up to 14 individuals, boasts itself to you in the middle of the room with every chair lined in genuine black leather. Traditional seating arrangements have one chair at the head of the table, but today’s meeting has two, both positioned to face the wide presentation screen at the opposite end.

Undoubtably, they’re reserved for Bang PD and Min Yoongi.

A momentary shiver courses down your spine, yet fades quick when one of your team members asks if anyone's seen the remote to the projector. There’s no time for nerves to be acting up, you remind yourself calmly. Only 15 minutes remain until every C-suite executive in Hybe congregates into the room.

With a composed demeanor, you swiftly gather your thoughts and respond, "Try checking inside the podium. It's likely close by, but if not, we can always power it on manually." You then start delegating tasks to the rest of your team, mentally rehearsing key points of the proposal between each instruction.

Time appears to have vanished in the blink of an eye because in a matter of seconds a gentle breeze slips through the conference door, accompanied by the arrival of several Hybe executives. You offer a polite "good morning," which is briefly reciprocated as they take their respective seats around the conference table.

You count twelve at the table in total, including your own team.

"Sajangnim should be here in about–"

Hybe's Chief Finance Officer doesn't get to finish his sentence when an older gentleman in a freshly pressed suit walks through the door, fully immersed in conversation. The person following close behind him is none other than the man of the hour himself–Min Yoongi, fitted in a clean white dress shirt that's unbuttoned at the collar and sleeves rolled to the elbows. His soft, raven hair falls gently in front of his eyes, framing his face a little too well.

Unexpectedly, both your gazes shift from Bang PD and onto one another. His dark, intense eyes pierce through you as they observe you from the opposite side of the room. You're certain he recognizes you from your previous shared encounters, though you don't have the slightest clue what he's thinking. Min Yoongi has been known to be many things, but an open book isn't one of them.

He then walks in your direction until he's directly toe to toe with you for the very first time. Completely against your wishes, you feel all the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. You've never officially met before.

"It's nice to finally meet you __-nim. Those nods we give each other in the hallway hardly count as a proper introduction." He extends a hand to you, offering you a sturdy handshake which you accept.

"Absolutely, it's a pleasure to meet you as well Min PD-nim," you say, smiling warmly. "I'm looking forward to working with you on your new album. I truly appreciate the opportunity."

For a split second, Yoongi allows his professional demeanor drop. "I should be the one thanking you. You'll be the one leading this whole operation right? So I'll be in your care."

You want to respond with gratitude, but you're not given the chance due to an authoritative voice speaking up from behind.

"Min PD-nim," Hybe's Vice President calls out to the man in front of you, requesting his attention.

Yoongi is hesitant to leave you mid-conversation but you assure him that it's alright. "Please, feel free to take a seat," you offer. "The presentations will begin soon."

A small, subtle smile graces Yoongi's lips before he turns around to take his seat beside Bang PD at the head of the table. He engages in small talk with Hybe's Vice President who's conveniently seated across from him. Yet despite their conversation, he's only half focused; his eyes repeatedly wandering back to you. At this point, however, you've already stopped looking at him.

"Good morning, all," you address the room when the time comes to commence the meeting. "We'll be getting started now that everyone's here. I'm sending down samples of the album design our graphics team has created for D-Day. Please pass them along." You hand the stack of copies to Hybe's Chief Technology Officer who smiles courteously.

"On behalf of my team and me, I want to thank you for joining us today to discuss our marketing strategy for Min PD-nim's upcoming D-Day album. Our agenda will be as follows," you guide everyone's attention to the presentation board, which provides a rundown of all the points you plan to cover for the remainder of the meeting.

"Let's begin with introductions. My name is ___ ___, I hold a Bachelor's degree in Electrical and Electronics Engineering from NYU Stern, as well as an MBA in Marketing. Over the past five years, I've worked in the music industry as a marketing manager. Three of those years were spent here at Hybe. The recent promotional campaign for TXT's The Chaos Chapter was lead by my previous team and me, resulting in a positive return on investment. Now, with a new team, I aim to achieve similar success with Min PD-nim's D-Day album."

Once you finish your introduction, you introduce each member of your team. This is soon followed by a brief introduction from each c-suite executive.

The whole room falls silent when you begin diving into the bulk of the proposal; every measurable objective, goal, and market analysis is shared for D-Day. When it comes time to present the brand guide and album design, you invite your graphics team to speak.

"You'll notice that we have two versions of Min PD-nim's albums on the sheet in front of you," Yi-joon refers to the mockups you handed out earlier. A few executives nod quietly as they study the proposed album packaging while Yoongi leans over to Bang PD. He's whispering something but you're far to distant away to hear. His expressions aren't telling either.

Does he like it? Does he not? You don't know.

Nevertheless, you give a subtle smile to Yi-joon as encouragement to continue.

 "We've opted for a sleek, pitch-black design for the first version, and a dusty brown for the second. The first version symbolizes the past, characterized by societal expectations and internal struggles, while the second represents the present and future, conveying a message of liberation. To complement these themes, we've selected a bold and daring font to exude the album's transparency. This design consistency extends to the album's contents; for instance, lyrical cards will reflect the respective color and style of the version they belong to."

Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer appears to be in approval with the entirety of the plan so far, yet it's short lived when a low voice interrupts.

"I think the vision of album's design aligns closely with mine, so I like what I see in front of me." Yoongi pauses and places the mockup on the table. "There's one aspect that I'd like to discuss in hopes of some insight however. I've been mauling over it for a while now."

"I'll do my best to–" Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer opens his mouth to respond yet closes it immediately when he notices Yoongi's gaze sharply shifts to you. It's a signal that it's your insight he specifically requests.

"Please go on," you reply.

"Regarding the name under which the album should be released, should it be 'Agust D' or 'Suga'? I'm personally biased towards Agust D because it holds more weight for me. It's close to my heart and the stories I have to tell as Agust D are heavier than those of Suga, right? The D even stands for Daegu, my hometown where I grew up and where my parents still live. Suga on the other hand is my stage name, which I have some identity in as well."

You don't answer immediately, preferring to carefully process everything he's said. Your team has already proposed to release the album under 'Agust D', yet he makes a valid point that 'Suga' is also a part of him.

"I understand that releasing the album under 'Suga' has its merit. However, I still support the original idea of releasing it under 'Agust D'. As you've mentioned, the name carries a deeper meaning, evoking memories, emotions, trials, and tribulations. I'd also like to emphasize that by releasing D-Day under 'Agust D', you can showcase who the real Agust D is. The collaboration with IU in People Pt. 2 already has you one step in that door."

Like you, Yoongi considers your words cautiously, weighing them in his mind. "Thank you ___-nim," he finally speaks. "Your perspective is reassuring. We'll proceed with releasing the album under 'Agust D'.

Following your short discussion, the graphics team continues presenting their design materials. Minor comments are made by Hybe executives, but Yoongi doesn't comment again until half-way into the social media segment.

"Why do we need to schedule this many Weverse Lives? People might get tired of seeing my face after so many in a row. ARMY will read, 'Min Yoongi started a live' and say to their friends, 'This is the fifth time in a row, is he in love with his own voice or something?'." His joke sparks a light in the room as Bang PD gives a chuckle.

"I don't think that's going to be an issue for you Yoongi," he replies. "Don't you know the strength of your own fanbase?" Bang PD's statement is undeniable. Everyone in the room is well aware of Min Yoongi's international fanbase who willingly stay up all hours of the night just to catch a glimpse of him. In fact, rather than seeing less of him, they hope to receive his live notifications more, as Yoongi isn't as active on Weverse as other idols.

It's clear that compliments like these aren't easy for Yoongi to take though, judging by the flushed look that subtly sweeps over his face. You'd react the same way to be honest.

"If I may Min PD-nim," you speak up, deciding to offer an alternative plan. "Leveraging Weverse Live to help promote D-Day will draw significant international engagement. We know that time differences pose to be a challenge which is why we proposed an increase of live sessions per week. However, we understand that going live this often might be exhausting. Would you consider reducing the frequency to once or twice a week instead?"

"I'm open to once a week but didn't we film the 'Suga: Road to D-Day' documentary for a similar reason? Won't it be too much to add more than two Weverse Lives throughout the entire promotional phase?" Yoongi's challenge is met with an unanimous hum of support from his fellow executives. You'd feel intimidated if you didn't already have a justification mapped out.

"The objective behind releasing 'Suga: Road to D-Day' on Disney+ differs from that of Weverse Lives," you rebuttal confidently. "While the documentary presents a structured behind-the-scenes view of D-Day's development, the Lives focus on building hype among your existing fans who know you well, will spread the word to their peers, and will likely pre-order the album. As you're aware, Lives are more personal and stripped down, allowing your fanbase to feel closer to you."

Thinking of no further objectives, Yoongi, still somewhat unsure, accepts your suggestion. "Once a week will be fine then. While we're still on the topic, do we know when 'Suga: Road to D-Day' is set to release on Disney+?"

"Our digital marketing and promo team will be reviewing the specifics of that soon," you inform. "Right now we have the documentary releasing April 23 of next year. The poster for the film will release a week and a half earlier on the 12th."

Rather than furthering the discussion, Yoongi sends an understanding nod your way which allows the social media team to resume their portion of the proposal. Recording more Weverse Lives than usual remains a pain point for him, but he's willing to move forward if it means connecting with his fanbase.

Alast, after what seems like three hours of social media; followed by financing & budget talk, the last team to present their material takes lead of the meeting.

"We'd like to provide a timeline for D-Day's promo schedule as a way to wrap up today's proposal," So-hyun from your digital marketing and promos team explains. "Promotions will begin April 10, 2023 and will run until April 25th. During this time the album's track list, concept photos, MV Teaser, and official MV will drop. As far as concert schedule, we're proposing April 26-June 24. These dates include U.S, Asia, and Korea Tours."

"We might need to rethink concert dates but for now I'm on onboard." Yoongi remains brief in his interjection, allowing So-hyun to continue.

"As far as other marketing channels, we plan to implement both print and digital methods including billboards, banners, paid search ads, and YouTube. We'd also like to reach out to a variety of magazines like Rolling Stones Magazine for interviews. If we want to extend our global reach even further, we can book a time slot on the Jimmy Fallon Show. Bare in mind that if we go this route, we'll need to decide fairly quick, as slots are in high demand."

You notice Bang PD whispering amongst Yoongi and his Chief Finance Officer when Jimmy Fallon is mentioned. Yoongi seems the least interested. Perhaps he isn't fond of being front and center of talk shows, you guess.

"When will we need a decision for the Jimmy Fallon Show?" Bang PD inquires for the group.

"No later than three weeks from now," So-hyun answers. "It's a tight deadline but it can been done if we get the official go."

Bang PD directs his attention to Yoongi who's chosen to be silent in this conversation. "What do you think, Yoongi? It's your call."

"Maybe," he says, "give me a day or two to think on it."

Another ten minutes of productive overview with your promos team pass and soon, you're standing up to adjourn the meeting. You have to admit that out of all the proposals you've given in your career, this goes right to the top.

Your team was phenomenal today, and despite the the fact that several Hybe executives are biting at the bit to finally go on their lunch break, you feel confident that everyone is leaving on the same page.

"Min PD-nim."

You're ears inevitably pick up the conversation in front of you as you make your way out of the conference room. Yoongi and his Chief Financial Officer are running through some quick numbers only a few steps steps ahead, but with everyone simultaneously rushing in the same direction, neither must have realized you were within earshot.

"There's no doubt that she's good at what she does," Hybe's Chief Financial Officer continues. "Still, it's hard to believe that she's only 27 or 28. A person should take better care of themselves don't you agree? Like our Eunchae for example."

If there was a way to erase what you just heard, you'd do so, because in an instant, all previous successes you felt from today's proposal shatters to the ground. You're no stranger to receiving these sorts of comments about your appearance, yet it leaves your confidence fleeting, along with any amount of resilience you've built.

Blinking back the tears that threaten to spill, you exit the conference room the first chance you get. You have no desire to stick around for Yoongi's reply.

Not long after you leave does you phone ring off.

Tae 💚: Hey! How's the meeting going? Still available to get lunch this afternoon? I'm heading to the cafeteria as I type this.

You: It went okay. But I don't think I'll be coming to lunch, just a lot to do. I'm also not that hungry.

You second-guess how convincing your message is, knowing that it's your best friend on the other line. Regardless, it's the only words you can come up with right now. You really do have a lot of work ahead of you though, at least that part is true.

Tae 💚: Are you sure? I was looking forward on hearing how the meeting went! Wasn't there something you had to give me too?

The meaning of the last line suddenly dawns on you as you make your way down the long hallway. How could you forget? You made Taehyung one of his favorite foods to surprise him for lunch; Japchae, a sweet and savory dish of stir-fried glass noodles and vegetables.

You: Right, sorry it slipped from my mind for a second. I'll meet you in the cafeteria to give it to you.

"Why won't you stay and eat with me?" Taehyung devours the homemade Japchae you made for him with delight, a pair of chopsticks clamped in his hand.

"I don't have much of an appetite, Tae."

You've already told him this twice already, clarifying that you'd be heading back to your office once you deliver his food. Evidently, he's not letting you slip away easily.

"Then take a break with me instead, even if it's only for ten minutes." You watch as your best friend swiftly pulls out the chair next to him from under the table, gesturing you to sit. "Tell me what's got you down," he says. "Did Yoongi say something to you? He can be a bit too outspoken with his opinions sometimes."

Feeling defeated, you slide into the chair. "No, the meeting was fine. I'm just overthinking something that happened."

You then proceed to explain what you overheard Hybe's Chief Finance Officer say about you from earlier, that you didn't look healthy enough for your age and using Eunchae as an example. The scowl that appears on Taehyung's face as you retell the incident is unmistakable–he's clearly pissed.

"First of all," Taehyung starts once you finish, jaw clenched. "Eunchae is 17 and is a part of a Korean girl group. She has an entire team dedicated to making sure her appearance is flawless. It's the idol life; trust me, I'm well acquainted with it, so it's not a fair comparison. Secondly, Hybe's CFO is an asshole who I'd replace in a day. I don't want you letting him make you feel insignificant just because you don't conform to his narrow idea of how a woman should look."

You appreciate Taehyung's efforts to cheer you up, though you remain unaffected. Besides, he still isn't aware of Yoongi's involvement since you purposely left that detail out due to their close friendship.

"Yeah, I don't know. We don't have to talk about it anymore." You decide to dismiss the topic entirely and reach for your phone, along with a pair of earbuds bundled in your pocket. "Wanna listen to something?"

Music has always bonded you and Taehyung's friendship, as you've frequently found yourselves fully immersed in timeless songs from King of Leon and Led Zeppelin together. Taehyung nearly accepts the offer to listen with you once again, but then he freezes all movement. An eager grin follows close after.

"Hyung!" His voice echos though the room, earning the attention of Min Yoongi who's just entered the cafeteria. This time, you feel nothing but discomfort when the man looks your way.

"I have some material I need to review from my promo team. I'll text you later, okay?" You leave your best friend no time to reply as you quickly rise from your chair, stick your phone in your pant pocket, and head for the nearest exit. Yoongi attempts to make eye contact with you on your way out, but you avoid it completely.

When he approaches Taehyung, he acknowledges your semi-odd behavior. "I didn't mean to make her leave," he states, joining the younger at the table.

Taehyung offers a light shrug in response. "Don't worry, you didn't. She had other matters to get to. Something with her team members I think."

Yoongi grabs a fresh clementine from a nearby fruit bowl and beings peeling it little by little. "You two must be pretty close if you're having your lunches together."

It's not hard for Taehyung to read between the lines of what his member is insinuating.

"We've been friends for a while," he clarifies. "Just friends, nothing else."

a/n: Hope you enjoyed! Lmk what you think 🥰

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[sinizade]

Qih'Za, The Demon Slayer

Class: Paladin fighter (Oath breaker)

Romance: Gale (no god Gale, only normal nerd Gale)

Besties: Lae'Zel / Karlach

Qih'Za was the last egg to hatch in her Creche which made some of the other older Githyanki think that she would be a weak child among the others, but they ended up very mistaken as ever since she was able to hold a sword for the first time, she has always shown a clear mastery of whatever battle or training she was in. The problem that always resulted in severe punishment for Qih' Za was her curiosity... Training outside her Creche, field missions, she always left the training of the youngest to find out what was more beyond what her eyes could see and this always caused irritation in the elders, her lack of obedience and discipline were irritating in their eyes.

During her teenage years, she was the proudest point of her Creche, the first Githyanki to kill a demon with her own hands. One of the Githyanki from their Creche was using his magic to try and summon little imps to use in combat and something went terribly wrong causing a flesh and blood demon to appear right in the middle of them killing and beheading everyone in sight no matter if they were children or teenagers. Qih'Za was quick, brutal, almost animalistic against that demon, cutting off its horns, wings, tail, she was hateful and dangerous, almost no longer controlling her body and it was from that day on that she became known as the Demon Slayer, but what was a source of pride and admiration for her Creche and other Githyanki outside of it, for Qih' Za it was a trigger for some kind of disorder in her mind, seeing all these children, seeing her friends and teachers get killed in such a brutal way caused her to have small tantrums throughout her life whenever she was in combat, useful against enemies, but she lost control and always ended up attacking allies and her superiors ignored this due to her usefulness in battle, which always left her with the blood of her brothers and sisters on her hands and even more trouble on her mind.

Against her will she became a dragon rider, it was a "gift" offered by the best and most honorable warrior in her Creche and she shouldn't dare refuse. Receiving her dragon seemed to bring her more comfort... It was strange at first, but she created a great bond with her dragon, her friend, her glorious Agynih. Her first battle with her dragon was something that would never leave her mind... Seeing her dragon, her friend being killed by an Ilith ship, having her body absorbed into that incubator against her will... She just wanted to get out of there, she needed to get out of there.

Even though she didn't have much attachment to magic and even a certain fear due to her trauma, the way Gale showed it seemed to be less scary and more "simple", even beautiful in her view, he was a good teacher, a very intelligent human, there were few big noses that Qih'Za met who actually managed to have her admiration and Gale aroused both admiration and attraction. Even though he wasn't very strong, he made up for it with his mind and spells, he was fast and lethal, his body was firm and concentrated that seemed to flex with each glow that came from his hands and staff. Qih'Za wanted to try him, not just that, she wanted to devour Gale completely, feel his skin against hers and submit him to her.

She stayed with Gale and traveled with him to Water Deep... Even though her mind told her to go with Lae' Zel to fight for the freedom of her people and fight to spread the words of her prince Orpheus, that was no longer life for Qih' Za and now her heart is with Gale... She had been through so much, felt so much... She knew well that Lae'Zel was more than capable of such a mission, that she would free her people and become a legend among all Githyanki. Her companion, her friand and her sister

Some extra information about Qih' Za

She's love chocolate ever since she stole one from a big nose she found sleeping near her Creche, so now that she's trying to find a way to get this parasite out of her mind, she always tries her best to find a few more chocolates.

She's afraid of Raphael and Mizora... Not just ordinary fear, but something that makes her vision blur to the point where she almost loses control of her body again.

She hasn't had a good night's sleep since she found out about Astarion... He wasn't trustworthy, he didn't seem trustworthy and he didn't even talk like someone trustworthy, if he hadn't been so helpful with locks she would have already ripped his head off.

She wanted to taste Wyll when she first saw him, a strong and brave human, strong body almost as if waiting to be touched, but finding out about Mizora made her hateful about him.

[hooniblr]

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 (𝐘𝐄𝐓) 𝐈𝐈𝐈

PAIRING ▸ nishimura riki x female feader

WORD COUNT ▸ 4.4k

GENRE ▸ high school au, brother’s best friend au, fluff, angst

SYNOPSIS ▸ After spending the better part of your adolescent life crushing on your brother’s best friend, you finally decide to call it quits on your unrequited feelings when you come to the conclusion that’s all they will ever be—unrequited. The only problem is that getting rid of these feelings that have been lurking in your heart is much more difficult than you anticipated. Especially because the object of your affections keeps making it hard for you to move on.

Or the one where everyone ends up with emotional turmoil.

WARNINGS ▸ reader as sunoo’s twin sister, riki as sunoo’s bestie, feat. some of the newjeans members, misunderstandings, pining, slow burn, hurt feelings, mentions of claustrophobia, reader has a panic attack, hoonie is kind of mean in this one (sorry lol)

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Nishimura Riki was many things, but an unhelpful jerk was not one of them. Those close to him knew that he could never ignore a person in need. Every time he was asked for help, he would do just about anything in his power to do just that. It was near impossible for him to say no, and the situation he suddenly found himself in was no exception.

“Please?”

Song Yura’s clasped hands were resting under her chin prettily, her pleading eyes shining brilliantly like she was holding back tears. Riki’s expression softened because like most guys in his school, he couldn’t bear to say no to one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen. And while he didn’t immediately agree to her request, it didn’t mean that he wasn’t being swayed.

Okay, so the favor she needed was borderline unreasonable and downright toxic, but a large part of Riki didn’t care because it directly involved messing with Lee Heeseung.

“Can’t you just tell that idiot how you feel?” Riki’s tone was slightly rough. “Using me to make him jealous isn’t going to make him want you.”

Yura scowled at him. “How do you know? Jealousy is a powerful emotion.”

Riki’s jaw ticked. He knew that her stupid plan had a 95% chance of failing because anyone with eyes could tell that Heeseung was down bad for you. And as much as it killed him to witness it, he was pretty sure the feeling was mutual.

“Whatever you say.” Riki scoffed. “I still think this is a terrible idea.”

His friend only blinked at him before a victorious smirk slowly spread on her lips. She didn’t hear a no. “But you’ll help me, right?”

Riki’s tongue poked the corner of his lips, narrowed eyes glaring at the shorter girl with resignation. Maybe he would come to regret his decision, but if he could help his friend while getting that jerk away from you, then so be it.

“Yeah. I will.”

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Sunghoon was usually not one to pay attention to rumors, but even he couldn’t avoid hearing that Nishimura Riki and Song Yura were talking. It’s not a rumor that particularly interested him since he didn’t really care about his cousin’s love life. However, it did break his heart for you. In spite of what you wanted him to believe, he knew you never really got over your crush on Riki.

That’s why he disregards reason and goes out to look for you when he heard some of his classmates talking about the new hot couple of the school. Maybe it was foolish of him to do so because he was the one to walk away from you in the first place, yet he couldn’t care about any of that. He just needed to be there should you be in need of comfort.

Except when he made it outside and saw you just a few feet away from the school’s entrance, he belatedly realized that you had already found a source of comfort in the form of Lee Heeseung.

The sight made Sunghoon feel sick. You seemed oblivious to the way the taller boy was staring at you with a stupid look on his face. It made his stomach turn with bitter jealousy. From the looks of it, he could tell that your involvement with Heeseung went beyond a simple friendship. It killed him to see just how brightly you smiled at Lee Heeseung. You claimed to not have any feelings for him, but maybe you were just in denial.

And now, Sunghoon could only watch with a crestfallen face as Heeseung handed you a cute little box. Your eyes lit up brightly to the point that it looked like they were nearly sparkling. It killed him to see how prettily you smiled when you opened the box and pulled out a star necklace.

Heeseung smiled softly. “Do you like it?”

“It’s so pretty.” You couldn’t keep the excitement out of your voice.

You gently place the necklace back in its box before throwing your arms around your friend. When he said he’d get you a prize for finally beating him in a match, you thought he was just going to treat you to a meal or something. “Thanks, Hee.”

Sunghoon refused to watch any further, turning on his heel and walking away from the sight that made him feel like someone punched him in the gut. Right then he decided that he was going to get to the bottom of your relationship with Lee Heeseung even if it was the last thing he did.

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You were going to kill Minji.

When you told her she could invite people to join you for karaoke, you didn’t think she would be stupid enough to invite Jungwon. It’s not like you had anything against him, but anywhere he went, your brother and Riki followed. This wouldn’t have been such a big problem had you not been avoiding Riki and if you hadn’t invited Heeseung to come along with you.

And to make matters worse, Heeseung brought along his friends which included resident puppy boy, Jake Sim. Much like Jungwon, you had nothing against Jake, but he happened to bring along your insufferable ex and his lovely cousin who he was apparently very close to.

“Should we get something to eat first?” Danielle wondered, trying to ease the obvious tension and discomfort that surrounded the group.

“There’s a chicken restaurant by the karaoke place.” Sunoo said cheerfully. “Let’s go there.”

A chorus of agreements paired with Jay and Jake’s enthusiastic cheers broke some of the lingering animosity, but not completely. As everyone walked in the direction of the restaurant, you quickly pulled Heeseung aside. Your eyes were wide with anger, and it wasn’t just because of the fact that Sunghoon kept staring at you.

“What the fuck, Heeseung?” You hissed, slapping your friend’s arm. “Why would you let Jake bring him?”

“Why did you let Minji bring Nishimura?” Heeseung countered, feeling like he was about to pop a vein.

“I didn’t know she invited them! I don’t want to see him with Yura any more than you do.”

It wasn’t like they were making out in front of you or anything, but they were giggling and whispering to each other like they were in their own little world. Also, Riki had casually slung one of his long arms across Yura’s shoulders, keeping her close to him as they walked. Just seeing them all hugged up was enough for you to consider ending your night early.

“I’m sorry.” Heeseung sighed, knowing that now you were not only forced to see your crush with someone else, but also forced to tolerate your idiot of an ex. “You think they’ll notice if we leave?”

Hearing you laugh was a relief. Maybe the night could be salvaged after all.

“I told you your plan wouldn’t work.” Riki whispered through gritted teeth. “Your little boyfriend could care less that you’re here.”

Yura pouted, chancing a glance back to where she could hear the sound of a cute laugh. It was true. Heeseung was so engrossed with watching you giggle that he didn’t seem to notice how close her and Riki had gotten. Not that she could blame him. You were especially pretty when you laughed.

With a huff, Yura looked straight ahead. “Whatever. The night isn’t over yet.”

Riki looked back. His eyes landed on a sullen Sunghoon who hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since he and Yura arrived. It’s not like Riki felt bad for him or anything. He saw firsthand how devastating your breakup with him had been. However, in that moment Riki almost felt like he understood exactly how Sunghoon was feeling.

Seeing you laugh happily with Lee Heeseung made Riki physically sick. Especially after you sent him a text asking him to just let it go this once since you technically couldn’t avoid Heeseung at this point. It made him more upset than he thought was possible.

Dinner went by in a forgettable blur which you were grateful for. So far, you and Heeseung had done a decent job at hiding how devastating it was to see Yura and Riki together. It wasn’t until the group was going into the karaoke place that your night started to sour.

“Y/N.” Sunghoon’s voice was soft as he gently pulled on the sleeve of your jacket. “Can we talk?”

Unfortunately, Heeseung was the first one inside since he was eager to out-sing everyone which meant you would have to deal with Sunghoon alone. You let the group go ahead, giving Danielle and Minji a small nod so they wouldn’t feel bad about leaving you alone.

A frown lined your lips as you faced Sunghoon. “What do you want?”

Your voice was cold and distant, and Sunghoon felt himself deflate. “I want us to go back to the way we used to be. Before… everything, we used to be friends. Now, you can barely even look at me, and I hate it.”

His unreasonable request made you scoff. You’re not sure why he thought you two could ever be friends or anything close to that again. There was a building tightness in your throat as you tried not to unleash all of your stifled emotions.

“That’s not going to happen. I got over what happened between us, but that doesn’t mean I want you around.”

“Why?” Sunghoon demanded. “Because of Heeseung?”

He was overstepping, but you somehow managed to keep your emotions in check long enough to answer him. “So what if it is?”

“Does he know how you feel about Riki?” It was a low blow, but Sunghoon was too upset to take his words back.

Your icy gaze got colder, and it was taking everything in you not to hit Sunghoon like you wanted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Now it was Sunghoon who scoffed. “Yeah, right. You’ve always liked him. Even when we were together, you had feelings for him. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

You swallowed thickly. While his words were not untrue, Sunghoon didn’t realize he was the only guy who had ever moved your heart to the point where you started to forget about Riki. Not that it mattered anymore.

“What do you care who I do or don’t like? Just mind your own business.”

“I may not be friends with Heeseung anymore, but he doesn’t deserve only half of your heart.” Sunghoon’s voice trembled, and he knew that once everything was said and done he was going to regret his harsh words. But right now he could only vent his sadness and anger on you even though you didn’t deserve it. “It’s not right for you to make him your back burner just because Riki doesn’t like you.”

The second he spoke those harsh words, he regretted it. Your face crumbled, steely gaze twisting into one of hurt and shock. The sight alone made Sunghoon feel like someone struck him in the chest. “Y/N, I—”

“You don’t know anything.” You told him through gritted teeth, barely holding back angry tears. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Heeseung and I aren’t like that.”

Sunghoon grew indignant again. “Oh yeah? Then why did he give you that necklace you’re wearing?”

You were at a breaking point, but you weren’t willing to let him of all people see you at your worst. So you didn’t answer, but your silence didn’t deter him.

“That’s what I thought.” Sunghoon frowned, not liking the turn the conversation took. “You have to be honest with him so he doesn’t get hurt—”

“Why do you care so much about us, anyway?” You snapped, sick of him acting like he knew what was going on. “Stop acting like you’re doing this because of Heeseung when all you care about is hurting me.”

Us? The word had Sunghoon clenching his jaw. Had he been right all along? Did you and Heeseung have something more than just a simple friendship? “I don’t want to hurt you. Believe it or not, that’s something I never wanted to do.”

You let out a breath that sounded like a mixture of a scoff and a laugh, knowing you had to get ahold of yourself before going inside. But the hurtful emotions wouldn’t stop growing. They only got worse with each passing moment. “That’s funny because that’s all you do, Sunghoon.”

“Y/N.”

You looked back to see Riki glaring at Sunghoon. At that moment you felt your heart drop into your stomach. How long had he been listening? Riki’s angry stare didn’t falter even as he walked over to where you were. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you away from your ex.

“Come on.” Riki finally took his glaring eyes off of Sunghoon, only to look at you softly. “The others are waiting.”

Normally, you would avoid being dragged anywhere by your crush, but Riki’s appearance came like a blessing to you. The last thing you wanted was to spend another minute with the boy who only insisted on adding to your misery. So you followed him, hoping with all your might that he didn’t know about your feelings for him.

Sunghoon watched with a raised eyebrow as Riki guided you away from him. Interesting. He had doubted that the thing with his cousin and Riki was real, and by the looks of it, he was right. The gag of it all was that your little unrequited crush didn’t seem to be so unrequited after all.

“Did you hear everything?” You wondered quietly as Riki guided you to the room everyone was in.

He looked over at you, frowning when he saw how embarrassed you looked. In all honesty, he’d only heard the last part where you said all Sunghoon did was hurt you. But since it seemed like you were completely mortified, he decided to lie a little. “No. I just know you didn’t want to be out there with him so I came and got you.”

You visibly relaxed. “Thanks, Riki.”

It was easier than expected to pretend like you hadn’t just been through the emotional ringer. The rest of the night proceeded without any further incident, and you thought it would end smoothly with you putting it behind you. As always, you weren’t so fortunate.

You went outside to see Heeseung staring at the street, or rather, the two people by it. Riki and Yura were standing closely, talking and laughing like they had been doing all night. His gaze became colder the longer he looked at them. If jealousy could be personified, you imagined that it would look something like Heeseung did at the moment.

“Don’t be a masochist.” You tried to keep your tone light, but it sounded resigned and miserable. “Giving them the evil eye won’t change anything.”

Heeseung let out a sigh as he followed you into the street, doing his best to keep his eyes off of his crush and the guy he hated more than anyone.

“Are you guys leaving?”

Yura’s friendly question was tempting to ignore, but you couldn’t. After all, she couldn’t be blamed for Riki’s lack of attraction toward you.

“Yeah.” You gave her what you hoped looked like a genuine smile. “See you guys later.”

With that, you and Heeseung left the pair behind, not realizing that you dropped the necklace your friend had given you.

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Just because you were avoiding Riki, it didn’t mean you were extending that same treatment to his family. Over the years, you had grown close to his little sister. You were really fond of her, and since her birthday was coming up, you decided to go to the mall to pick out her present. It was supposed to be a quick thing, but that all changed when you ran into Heeseung.

The unexpected run in wasn’t unpleasant since he was your friend after all, but there was something off about his demeanor. His expression wasn’t as cheerful, and you could see that there was this muted anger in his expression that wouldn’t go away. You decided not to comment on it since he clearly didn’t want to walk about what was bothering him.

Everything took a turn for the worse when Heeseung asked you to follow him. There was a moment where you thought following your perturbed friend would only lead to trouble, but it was fleeting. He was probably ready to leave and so were you since she hadn’t found the shoes Riki’s sister mentioned that she wanted. Even as you two ended up where the elevators were, you didn’t think anything was out of the ordinary.

Until he guided you toward the shutting elevator, that is.

Heeseung surprised you by sticking his hand out to prevent it from closing. You could only stare with wide eyes, unable to understand why he felt the need to act so irrationally when there were plenty of other elevators you could take. Your shocked confusion didn’t last long. The doors opened fully to reveal none other than Riki and Song Yura.

They seemed as surprised as you felt.

The entire situation would’ve been comedic had it not been for the animosity that was quickly closing in. You spent half a second contemplating on running in the opposite direction until something caught your attention. Your gaze settled on the cute little shopping bag in Riki’s grasp. It was a bag from his sister’s favorite clothing store. Your heart jerked painfully when you realized what was going on.

Ever since you got close to Riki, he had enlisted your help to buy his sisters (his younger one in particular) the perfect gifts. It was practically a tradition at this point. Seeing that he had asked for Yura’s help instead of yours felt like the equivalent of someone punching you in the chest.

You didn’t get any time to focus on your hurt feelings because from the looks that were exchanged between the two boys, you knew that you had just been dropped in the middle of a crossfire.

Heeseung grabbed you and pulled you inside the elevator without any hesitation. You gave him an incredulous glare. It was obvious that he had some poorly-crafted plan to wedge himself between Riki and Yura, but you didn’t understand why he felt the need to involve you. At this point, all you wanted to do was run back home and have a good cry.

“Hey!” Riki’s death stare was piercing he looked at Heeseung. “What the hell do you think you're doing?”

“What about you?” Heeseung countered. “What are you doing?”

During this brief exchange, you made eye contact with Yura. Her eyes drifted down to where Heeseung was still holding onto your wrist. The disillusion on her face probably resembled the look on your own face. Although, you were too busy trying to process the crazy turn of events to make sense of Yura’s disappointed expression.

“Hee.” You whispered the plea while attempting to free yourself from his hold. “Let’s get off.”

Using all your strength, you managed to get to the edge of the elevator (right between the doors), but Heeseung’s iron-like grip prevented you from leaving. Riki pressed one of the buttons to keep the door from closing without taking his glaring eyes off of Heeseung. By now, your heartbeat seemed to be ringing in your ears as the two boys kept exchanging words you couldn’t make out. You were vaguely aware that they kept pushing the buttons sporadically, but only came back to reality when the door jammed and nearly crushed you.

With a startled yelp, you were pulled back into the elevator by Heeseung—who was now questioning Yura on what she was doing shopping with Riki. The words spoken still sounded muffled and indistinguishable.

You could feel your heartbeat skip a beat when the elevator came to a sluggish stop. Immediately, you became aware of the fact that you were now trapped. No. No no no no no, no. Not here. Not now. Trying to stop yourself from panicking was futile. Your hands began to clam up and you could feel your chest tighten with anxiety. The tremors always started out faint, but it never took long for them to worsen. The shortness of breath always followed, and you only hoped the others wouldn’t notice.

Shutting your eyes never helped, but you did it every time. The back of your eyelids were painted with horrible thoughts of being trapped in a confined space. You had been working through your phobia slowly, and you naively thought that you had finally made some real progress. None of that seemed to be true now that you could feel yourself trembling like a leaf.

“Y/N! Kim Y/N!”

Your eyes flew open. At some point, you had lost the feeling in your legs and fallen to the floor. Riki was crouched down in front of you, eyes full of panic and worry. His hands gently cradled your face as he delicately wiped the tears you didn’t realize were falling from your eyes. “Y/N, look at me. It’s okay. Breathe. Just breathe.”

Sunoo had told Riki all about his twin’s claustrophobia. He was vague when he said it was because of something traumatic that had happened to you as a child, but he mentioned that you would get horrible panic attacks because of it. That’s why you didn’t like taking taxis or even buses. Riki couldn’t stand seeing the horrified look on your face. The sheer terror in your eyes killed him.

“Wh-What’s wrong with her?” Yura asked, feeling her own heart start to race.

“She’s having a panic attack.” Heeseung said, the raw emotion in his voice peeking through. He didn’t try to hide the horror on his face. This was all his fault.

“R-Riki.” You wheezed out. “I-I can’t– I can’t bre—”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence, the tightness in your chest hindering you from going on. Everything seemed to be closing in, and you didn’t know what to do. All you wanted was your brother.

“You can do it.” Riki reassured you. “It’s going to be okay. Count with me.”

And you did. Slowly and feebly, but you did it. Your breathing was nearly back to normal when the doors of the elevator were pulled open. The four of you looked up at the point of escape, wanting nothing more than to get out. With all your rational thoughts pushed to the side, you recoiled from Riki’s touch.

“Y/N—!”

You ignored Riki’s heartbroken voice and quickly scrambled out of the elevator, feeling more mortified than ever.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Riki stood outside of your house, awkwardly shifting on his feet. In all the years he had been friends with you and Sunoo, he never hesitated to knock on your door (even when he came by unannounced). But this was time different. After the way you ran off at the mall, he wasn’t so sure that you wanted to see him.

Even so, he needed to know that you were okay.

Just as he walked up your driveway, the front door opened. Riki’s eyes narrowed instinctively when he saw a familiar face come through the door. “What are you doing here?”

Heeseung blinked once, clearly irritated. “I came to make sure Y/N is okay.”

Riki clenched his jaw. He had no right to be as angry as he was since seeing the boy you liked would no doubt make you feel better, but he couldn’t stand Lee Heeseung assuming a role that wasn’t meant for him.

“That’s funny considering you’re the reason she wasn’t fine.” Riki spat, not caring that he sounded harsh.

Heeseung was very conscious that he was (partially) at fault, but he didn’t need to hear that from Nishimura Riki of all people. “You’re one to talk. Aren’t you too busy with Song Yura to care about what’s going on with Y/N?”

It’s weird that he brought up Yura, and it was even more strange that he was bringing up the fact that you two haven’t been as close lately. Now he knows for sure Heeseung was the reason you seemed to want nothing to do with him anymore. But he still couldn’t figure out how Yura played a part in all this. Had her crazy plan actually worked?

“What happens between Yura and I has nothing to do with Y/N.” Riki’s steely gaze slowly morphed into an amused one. “And it has nothing to do with you either.”

Based on the way Heeseung’s face scrunched up in anger, Riki could tell there was definitely something there. It made his stomach turn with disgust because how could he be stringing you along while also feeling something for Yura?

“You can keep following Yura like a lost puppy, but don’t bring Y/N into it. I won’t let you mess with her feelings."

Heeseung raised his eyebrow with a loud scoff. “I’m not the one who’s messing with her feelings.”

His brazen attitude made Riki explode just a tiny bit. “Don’t act fucking stupid. I can tell you like Yura, so why the hell do you keep hanging around Y/N and acting like you like her?”

“The only one who’s acting that way is you.”

Heeseung words were biting, and for the first time in a long time, Riki was at a loss for words. The statement itself was so absurd that he nearly choked on his own spit after hearing that moron say those words. Riki wanted to tell him that the only thing he was acting like was a good friend. For some reason the words couldn’t come out.

“I know where I stand with my feelings.” Heeseung said in a way that sounded like he was accusing his former friend of something. “Do you?”

Riki didn’t say anything even when Heeseung walked away from him. Those asinine words were bouncing back and forth in his mind until he really digested them and the implications they came with. His heart was pounding as he stared at the Kim household. Could that idiot be right? Was it possible that these protective feelings stemmed from something more intense that he wasn’t ready to acknowledge?

No. It was impossible. There was no way he would ever betray his best friend by liking his sister.

Although, the longer he thought about it, the bigger the discomfort in his chest grew.

[allfearstofallto]

may i ask for scara for B, G, H, Q, T ? :0

(no pressure 🎀)

-🫧anon

ALL THE PRESSURE BESTIE! I ALREADY HAD A COUPLE OF THESE WRITTEN, CAUSE GUESS WHAT?? IM A SIMP!!

Anyways, thanks for the request, bubbles!! I threw in a couple extra (the ones I wrote already) just to thank you (no other reason).

TW: mentions of self harm (very slight, I promise)

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Willing and able, Scaramouche can and has killed for you. Once out of protection and the other time as a warning. Blood on his hands means nothing to him and to him, any human life except for yours, is expendable.

The way you look at him after does make him falter a little, there's a genuine fear in your eyes. It's a visceral look that only those truly afraid of death can show, and thus he did choose not to commit such acts in front of you anymore, but that doesn't mean they don't happen.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

His heart is a closed lock box that will probably never be opened. Vulnerability is a weakness and he refuses to be weak, especially around you, who will use anything to your advantage to get away.

But there are times where his walls will fall. Times when he's not the balladeer, or number six, or even Scaramouche. There are times when he's just a scared, confused puppet.

He's only shed tears in front of you once. In the dead of night, his voice was soft. You asked him, not as a captive, but as a person, “why are you doing this to me?” And his response was a single tear, a moment of weakness, a moment where he lost himself.

That tear was wiped away as quickly as it fell and he was back to his usual demeanor, cursing himself for such shortcomings.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

While he hates to admit it, his love is anything but a game. To him, this is blatantly serious, and any attempt to escape is an attack against him personally.

Your escape attempts aren't cute, nor are they funny. He's done all of this for you, yet you don't want it? You don't want him? It's not fun having to drag you back after you try to get away, but the sight of you begging to him on your knees for forgiveness, that was exciting.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

The day he took you, was the worst day of your life. The day you met him was the day you ruined your life, but the day he took you was the day your life truly ended.

You still had nightmares about that day, waking up in a cold sweat and having to look at the reason for all your fears. He slept peacefully while your chest heaved and sweat dripped down your face.

The doors to your home, the windows, any place that a person could get in, someone forced their way through. Your house was swarmed with armed Fatui guards,all of them big, strong, and holding weapons. Fighting back was barely an option against Scaramouche, even with a vision, but against all of them together, you knew you stood no chance.

Grabbed and pulled out of your door, you kicked, screamed, begged, and cried. Anything you could think of as they dragged you to a carriage. His carriage. Where he sat waiting for you, a nonchalant look on his face.

If you knew that that'd be the last time you'd seen your home, you would've looked at it harder.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

The only thing that would ever keep you away from Scaramouche is death itself, but even the solace of that is one that you won't be able to enjoy.

When he takes you, you are his and his alone. He won't allow you to run away or even harm yourself. He views you as something he owns and treasures, hurting it would be hurting something that he loves.

If you do manage to get away, what a smart, but stupid thing you are. There is nowhere he won't find you and nowhere he isn't willing to go to get you back. You'd never be safe for a second, running to the ends of the earth. Life would be constantly looking over your shoulder and lacking trust in anything and everyone. It would make you ask if leaving was even worth it? If what you were doing now, constantly on the run, was even living?

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Tears are a sign of weakness, he knows that best. Maybe that's why he takes pity on you when you cry. His harsh exterior can be melted slightly by your little sobs and begging, but that doesn't mean you'll get your way. But even you have noticed that his punishments are a bit softer when you've cried and his touch becomes oh so much gentler.

Slinking away from his touch does cause a pain in his chest though. Knowing that you despise him so much, you don't even want him near you anymore. These are quick ways to get him to calm down slightly, a type of reaction that lightens the blow of his usual attitude.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

You are a smart thing, aren't you? You'll learn eventually. Compliance is his biggest weakness, you doing and acting as you're told actually makes him trust you. It takes time of course, but act right for long enough and suddenly he's less irritable and more complacent with you as well.

The straw that really breaks the camel's back is begging. Scaramouche needs you, he won't say it, but he does, and he wants you to need him too. Say that he's the only one who can do something for you, and suddenly he's practically putty in your hands. Beg sweetly enough and that hard exterior will crumble. All it takes is a saccharine spoken, “Please, my lord."

[wintfleur]

🎀 hii bestie🤭 congratulations AGAIN on 1k it is so deserved and i am so so happy for you !!!

could i possibly request prompt 014 from 🪷 with cole caufield please ?? have a realll soft spot for him atm and i think you’d write this so so beautifully🤭 okay i luv u lots and congrats again roro😽😵‍💫

౨ৎ mornings with our little pawfield

﹕─┈ pairings ( Cole caufield x female! reader )

°. — summary ( mornings with your two favorite boys )

°. — details ( g; fluff. w; just pure fluff! wc; 1.2k )

﹕─┈ prompt ~ they roll on top of you, cradling your head between their hands as they kiss your nose.

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( AHHH BECCA MY LOVE ☹️ ILY SO BADD 🩷 !!! Tysm for sending in a request and for the sweet words !!! I genuinely couldn’t have done this without youu x I hope you enjoy it bestie !!! )

1k celly masterlist main masterlist nhl masterlist

“Shhh don't wake up mommy” Cole whispered to Alfie as they made their way back into the couple's bedroom. Cole ran his hand through his messy hair from a good night's sleep, a tired yawn leaving his lips as he slipped off his slippers that he wore as he took Alfie outside. Alfie just wagged his tail faster in excitement and ran across the floor and jumped on the bottom of the bed, doing that cute little twirl he always did before laying down. 

Cole smiled and moved to his side of the bed and pulled back the white duvet to slide back into the warm bed, slowly and carefully so he wouldn't wake you up. Cole laid on his side facing your sleeping body, a fond smile on his lips as he watched your body rise and fall in unison with your breathing. You were laying on your stomach with both of your hands under your pillow, your face was smushed against the soft pillow, causing your lips to form an adorable pout he so desperately wanted to kiss. 

The duvet was pulled up to your shoulders and you looked so warm that he just wanted to pull you into his arms and hold you, but he did not want to disturb your sleep. It was far too early for you to wake up on your day off. But it seems their excited dog didn't feel the same way as him, Alfie was determined to wake up his mommy, wanting her attention and ear scratches that only she could do. Cole's eyes widened when he saw Alfie stand up and before Cole could stop the eager dog, the damage was already done. 

A groan mixed with tiredness and pain leaves your lips when you abruptly wake up to the feeling of paws on your back, the duvet not protecting you much from the paws in your back. “Alfie get off” you heard your boyfriend hiss as he sits up, alfie letting out a whine but listens, snuggling up against your side and looking up at cole. Another groan leaves your lips as your eyes slowly open before immediately closing at the bright shine coming from the curtains you had forgotten to close the night before. 

Your eyes slowly flutter open, blinking away the sleep a few times. Your eyes immediately lock with a smiling Cole as he lays on his side, his eyes already on you, admiring your morning glow like he did every morning he spent with you. He never took a single morning for granted; he knew he was blessed to have such a loving girlfriend like you. He hated being away because of his away games, away from Alfie, away from you, so he cherished every morning with you and alfie. 

Before you could open your mouth to say good morning you're cut off with your own shocked squeal when you feel alfie start licking your nose and cheeks. Cole's head falls back against the pillow as a loud laugh leaves his lips at the sight. You hide your face into the pillow, a laugh of your own coming out. Alife soon gives up on his love attack and moves to lay back between his parents, letting you lift your face up from the pillow. 

“Mmm my favorite way to wake up” you murmured as you rolled over to lay on your back, stretching your arms out with a yawn, your eyes fluttering close at the satisfying feeling. Cole chuckles and props up on his elbow, looking down at you with a fond smile as you open your eyes and look up at him “What, with paws in your back?” 

“No kisses from my favorite boy” you winked teasingly at your smiling boyfriend before placing a quick kiss to Alfie's snout, alfie wagging his tail excitedly from the attention. Cole rolls his eyes and leans forward and places a quick kiss to your forehead, brushing some of your messy hair out of your face before whispering “I'm your second favorite though, right?” 

“Depends on who's making breakfast” You smirk as you look up at him, your eyes silently begging him to make breakfast. Alfie perks up at the work breakfast, his ears popping happily as he quickly gets up and jumps off the bed. Quickly running out of the room and into the kitchen, causing the couple to laugh at their dogs' actions. He gets his love for breakfast from his mommy!

“Waffles or pancakes?” Cole asks as he sits up, your eyes traveling down his shirtless chest before quickly looking up at Cole's face, a small smirk on your boyfriend's lips as he catches you checking him out. You lean back on your elbows, the blanket falling down to your waist, you answer sassily “Do you even have to ask?” 

“Sorry sorry” Cole chuckles, his eyes twinkling with mischief, a look you know all too well. You open your mouth to ask your boyfriend what he's thinking about, but instead a squeal of surprise leaves your lips as he quickly rolls to lay between your legs. Your upper body falls back against the bed, a giggle leaving your lips as you feel Cole cradle your head softly between his hands. 

“I love you” Cole whispered as the two of you kept eye contact, the eye contact only breaking when your eyes flutter close at the soft keeling of his lips on your nose, his thumbs softly caressing your cheeks. You smile and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down closer to you, one of your hands running through his hair as you both enjoy the soft sweet moments that came with your shared mornings. 

You open your eyes and look up at your smiling boyfriend, his eyes taking in every inch of your face that he's already memorized, fully enchanted by your beauty. You whisper back “I love you.” 

A wide grins spreads across cole's lips at the undeniable love in your eyes, this feeling . . . the warmth that spread throughout his whole body as he held you close, and the feeling of his beating heart in sync with yours was a feeling he never wanted to forget, a feeling he hoped to feel for the rest of his life. Cole slowly leaned his face closer to your, having a strong desire to feel your lips on his. 

It was so close, your lips touching, but you quickly pulled back and turned your head towards the open bedroom door at the sound of Alfie barking. A loud laugh leaves your lips when Cole drops his forehead against your shoulder, a groan leaving his lips at the interruption. You scratch at the hair at his nape, causing him to rest his chin on you, looking up at you with a cute pout. You continue to laugh as you bring your other hand to softly bop his nose “Sounds like someone's hungry.” 

Cole scrunches his nose at the ticklish touch and places a quick kiss to your clothed stomach before swiftly getting out of bed. You lean back on your elbows and bite your lip as you watch Cole walk out of your shared bedroom, turning to look back at you “He gets his impatience from you.” 

You let out a dramatic gasp at your boyfriend's words, and you were quick to get out of the messy bed, chasing a giggling Cole through your hallway and into the kitchen. Another sweet morning with your two boys! 

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( AHH MY FIRST COLE FIC 🤭 featuring the cutest Alfie !!! )

°. — taglist ( @cixrosie @toasttt11 @lovings4turn x )

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

xiv. this feels like the calm before the storm.

— the one where the world is caving in.

warnings: cheesy pop culture references, aidan and victoria are back, more articles than usual. mentions of panic attacks, anxiety tics, spelling mistakes in the tweets that i am too lazy to correct, forgive me. 2.3k words (+articles!)

masterlist ✢ next

'Did Timothée Chalamet get y/n y/ln a role in 'Little Women'?'

By Bridget Thomas

As previously reported by various outlets, actress y/n y/ln has been cast as the youngest March sister for yet another remake of "Little Women", expected to be premiered by the end of next year. However, we can't help but wonder, how did y/n manage to get a role alongside actors of such high caliber, such as Meryl Streep and Best Actress Nominee Saoirse Ronan?

Despite the success of movies such as Supercut and The Hating Game, y/n's acting skills cannot even begin to compare to those of her co-stars, she's a romcom actress, and she's supposed to stay that way. But as Ringo Starr once sung: "I get by with a little help from my friends" and y/n is no exception.

Timothée Chalamet, Greta Gerwig's other main muse, has Hollywood eating out of the palm of his hand, and his influence goes a long way. So much so, that he was able to secure Amy's role for new friend (possibly new something else) y/n y/ln.

Right after they were seen mingling at a party in Paris with y/n's boyfriend (probably soon to be ex) Charles Leclerc, y/n got the call that they decided to give her the role.

Don't we all want a boyfriend who uses nepotism to our benefit?

Seriously, though, how does y/n manage to get this heartthrobs to spare a glance her way and do this stuff in her name? Somebody call the Winchester Brothers, we might have a witchcraft case right in front of our eyes.

Click here to go to the next article.

'Victoria Presley: I still miss my best friend, but all she did was use me.'

By Daniel Gomez

After staying away from social media and her job for a month and a half, beauty influencer Victoria Presley is back and she's not afraid of anything. Not even legal repercussions.

Back in July, Victoria received a 'Cease and Desist' letter from none other than former best friend y/n y/ln, demanding she stopped talking about her in public and to news outlets. This sparked the rumors that Presley had been selling her secrets to tabloids and was the one to reveal the engagement secret alongside actress Mia Kim, Aidan Kim's sister.

Victoria immediately removed herself from the narrative, deeply hurt by her ex-bestie's actions. Now, after gathering her thoughts and recovering from being stabbed in the back, she's giving us this exclusive interview.

"I can't help but miss y/n, she was my best friend for so long. But all she did was use me." Victoria is still in disbelief of y/n's actions, after giving her all her love and support. "I let her live in my house for months, and one day she leaves without any explanation. All to meet that Formula One guy."

Victoria has expressed her discontent with y/n's relationship with Charles Leclerc several times, arguing he is one of the main reasons y/n cut all ties with her and not the rumors that she revealed y/n's secrets to tabloids.

"He changed her for worse. Their relationship is so toxic, they breakup and get back together again and again, and they're just looking for ways to use the other's reputation for their benefit."

However, Victoria is certain the relationship won't last much longer, since y/n has her sight set on co-star Timothée Chalamet. "y/n has liked him for a while. When the rumors of his relationship with Kylie Jenner came out, she assured me she could steal him away with a flick of her hand."

Meanwhile, Victoria is focusing on her beauty line and its evergrowing sales. "I'm competing directly with Rare Beauty and Fenty. I'm in the big leagues, the way I deserve to be."

Click here to go to the next article.

'Aidan Kim reveals tracklist for "MIRRORS" and moves the release forward.'

By Paul Dean

Aidan Kim fans won't have to wait until October 5th anymore since their idol has decided to move the release date for his debut album forward by one month.

While we believe this decision was influenced by the news of ex-girlfriend y/n y/ln making her acting comeback in a high category movie, his fans also begged him to 'remind everyone of how awful y/n is' and judging by the titles of his upcoming tracks, we're sure he's leaving no crumbs.

Check out "MIRRORS" tracklist here:

In Your Pocket

All The Things I Hate About You

Him

Cry Me A River

Stabber

Stupid Love Letter

MIRRORS

Round and Round (Star-5 Reprise)

Yours and Mine (Star-5 Reprise)

Blinding Lights (The Weeknd Cover)

No Lie (With Mia Kim)

We can't wait for Aidan's insight on his relationship and breakup to y/n, we're certain the details are juicy! Don't forget to presave "MIRRORS" on Spotify and Apple Music!

Monza, Italy, September 3rd.

1...2...3... deep breath in, 4...5...6, breathe out.

You repeat the process five times until your heart has set in your chest and isn't trying to break free anymore. Until you've stopped squeezing your thighs with your palms and you can keep your eyes open without feeling like the red decoration is stabbing your eyeballs.

It's good that you can manage your anxiety before it turns into panic. You're still embarrassed about The Spain Incident, although neither Charles nor Carlos fault you for it at all. Still, every now and then, their panicked faces flashback in your mind and you feel sorry for them all over again.

You don't want this weekend to turn into The Monza Incident. Not when Charles' contract renewal was announced a few hours ago and he's on Pole Position, this weekend has to be perfect. Or as perfect as possible, for your boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

The weight of the word has multiplied by a thousand in your mind. Silly, when you really think about it. But palpable in a way that has butterflies flying around your stomach every time you think about the word and Charles' smiling face appears in your mind.

He's your boyfriend and you're his girlfriend, and this was a mutual agreement you reached with panic still holding you by the throat, only soothed by Charles' soft lips against your temple and his warm hands rubbing your skin.

You agreed to come to this Grand Prix because it will be the last one for you for a while. Filming for Little Women starts soon, and though they have a couple of races in the States, your schedule can be a little unpredictable. Also, you're hoping to score more roles soon.

You breathe again, deep enough that your lungs ache and lightheadedness threatens to rise through your body. You're overwhelming yourself, again.

According to the world, you’re not skilled enough to be in a movie with Saoirse and Timothée and should give up the role to someone who actually deserves it. Which you won’t do, of course. That someone who deserves it is yourself. It has taken a lot of pep talks in the bathroom mirror to brainwash yourself into believing it, but you’re getting there.

Plus, there are more things to worry about with Victoria back on her bullshit and Aidan's album coming out in two days. There are so many things to fix again, just when you thought you were getting there. Of course the two people that hate you most in the world have to mess with you again.

"Already here?" Carlos asks the second he crosses the door to the Suite. "It's way early."

"Good morning to you too," you let the air out of your already burning lungs and smile at Carlos. "I have nowhere else to be."

You could be at the Paddock Club, mingling with whatever celebrity or rich local is there. Or even visiting McLaren, since Lando offered to 'show you the garage', something Charles didn't like, of course. The secret of your newly earned girlfriend-boyfriend titles is one you try to keep close to your heart.

As if that has worked before.

A wave of anxiety runs down the back of your neck when you remember the tweet you saw this morning about a Deuxmoi tip on Charles and you. What could the exact price be, to reveal your relationship to the world?

"Have you had breakfast? Looks like you're going to throw up," Carlos says, sitting in the sofa opposite yours.

It's at least the fifth time he's told you that during the weekend. You know he does it out of a place of concern, but it still rubs you the wrong way. You also need to look perfect, not like you're going to throw up.

"I had breakfast back at the hotel, it's just the lighting."

"Sure?"

"I'm fine, Carlos. How are you?"

Carlos shrugs, he's not being the center of attention this weekend despite this being another home race for the team. "Good."

"Didn't you have to be at the meeting today?" you question, although it's obvious that by his getting there just now, he didn't.

"Had my PR reminders yesterday. Charles is different."

Of course. He has to know what he's allowed to say about his renewal and what he should not speak on at all.

Your own team advised you not to let yourself be seen at Monza. Mildred would have pulled you out of the plane if it had been up to her, and Walter would have helped her hold you hostage until the weekend was over.

They're both trying to find out about the Deuxmoi pictures too, although you doubt they can reach an agreement of any kind with whoever holds them to stop them from calling People Magazine up.

This whole avoiding being seen thing makes you feel wrong. As if you were doing something bad with Charles instead of just finally letting the love you've felt for him for months show. You hate it.

You're wrong to compare your current situation with your past ones. Aidan was your first really public romantic relationship, but before that, you didn't hide your partners either. Of course you weren't that famous, but even then, you didn't entertain the thought of scurrying around like criminals.

"He'll be fine, y/n," Carlos adds, looking at the way your foot keeps stomping the floor, like you're some kind of hyperactive bunny. "He's on Pole. You can pray for Max's downfall, though, maybe that'll help."

"I don't pray for people's downfall," you click your tongue, crossing your legs to stop the tic.

Karma and all that.

"Maybe you should." Carlos winks at you, and your conversation is finished as Charles leaves his meeting.

You can tell something's off just from the way his shoulders tense, but he smiles at you the moment your eyes meet.

"Everything okay?" you ask before he leans down to reach your height as you sit and pecks your lips.

"Yes, everything's good."

He's lying.

─────────

What was the point of coming to Monza if you're only watching the race through the screens?

You don't think the sun has touched your face at all since you got to the circuit, and you really want to be out there. But you stay put in your seat as the formation lap occurs right outside of the Suite.

It will make no difference, though, Charles is focused on the race, as he should be, rather than whether you're watching him through the TV.

Soon enough you know what will make a difference.

It's some kind of miracle that Charles has managed to regain the P1 position after the disastrous pit stop Ferrari put him through, and maybe Carlos was actually praying for Red Bull's downfall since Max has his very first DNF of the season and Checo can't get past George in P3.

Charles is going to win Monza again.

The decision making tree branches in front of you in a matter of seconds, people at the Suite are already talking excitedly and someone asks if you want to go down, there are four laps left.

You get up from your seat, aware that if life was anything like that videogame you played a couple times on the set of Parisian Valentine with your co-star, the "This action will have consequences" legend would appear on the screen right now.

You follow the Ferrari worker out, but even between the excitement and celebrations, you manage to hear what the PR Manager really thinks of your presence in the Paddock.

"She’s such a PR nightmare,"

She switches to Italian when your eyes fly to her face. And you can only wonder what cruel yet entirely accurate thing she said.

It's worse than a nightmare. It feels like the apocalypse all over again. And the weight of the world is back on your shoulders, feeling like you're messing up what was a weekend out of a dream for Charles.

You flashback to Monaco and the way Mati pulled you out of your head and locked your phone in her purse. You wish she was here more with each passing second. You cannot tear your eyes away from every single tweet speculating about your presence, about your relationship, about your intentions. It's overwhelming.

But Charles' happiness is what matters. He's absolutely ecstatic, even after the mishaps during the interviews where his PR training had to kick in and lead reporters back to Formula 1 related questions.

The thought that maybe you should have tried to make friends with more people occurs to you when you arrive at the celebration in the private club and Charles is dragged away from you. He tries his best to hold on to your hand, but the truth is people want to be with him and not you, so you let him take the spotlight he deserves and enjoy it.

"So, are you and Charles dating, then? Didn't you use to be engaged?"

You half-smile at the girl who just asked you the question, so boldly it takes you aback. But you guess her eyes are so bright from how much alcohol there is in her system, she's bound to be direct with liquid courage running through her veins. She's pretty in that dark hair, dark eyes way that has you momentarily doubting your own looks.

The extra heartbeat that takes you to reply, has her eyes shifting around the room before settling on Charles, who is finally walking back to your side.

Your boyfriend hands you a drink and smiles at the dark-haired girl and her friend, politely. "Are you having a good time?" the question is mostly directed towards you, but both girls jump at the chance of saying they're having the time of their lives and congratulating Charles for such an epic win. But they prompt you to join the conversation a few seconds later, so you're grateful for it either way.

There's a song in Spanish playing on the speakers and Charles is doing his best to sing the words while encouraging you to move to the beat with him. With his arms around you, things feel a little lighter, the whole in your chest that anxiety carved out is slowly filling with the love you feel for him, and the happiness of the day outshines the darkness of the thoughts in the back of your mind.

That is, at least, until the first notes of 'In Your Pocket' replace the previous song, after the DJ announces it's a special request. It's a remix, obviously, so people can dance to it, but a few of them have stopped moving altogether just to be a little less discreet about eyeing you.

"C'est pas amusant," you hear Charles say to one of his friends, who is hiding his mouth behind a tall glass of alcohol, his eyes still betray his enjoyement.

"It's fine," you squeeze Charles' arm, trying your best to smile although you're being put in the spotlight and there's nearly nothing worse than being the butt of a cruel joke. "It's just a song."

You wondered many times what those surrounding Charles thought of you. They didn't know you, after all. His brothers were nice to you when you saw them around the Paddock, and it wasn't like you'd hung around the rest of his friends. Did they mock him when tabloids called him a homewrecker? Or did they believe he'd just embarked on what seemed to be a dead-end relationship?

"I'm sorry, soleil, they're just— they're idiots," Charles adds, his hand reaching for yours. He looks genuinely upset and you can't help but hate whoever requested the song a little more for spoiling Charles' mood rather than for making fun of you.

"Charlie, it's okay, I've been through worse," your reassurance doesn't soothe him, so you squeeze his hand and he presses his lips to your temple. "I'd rather listen to Bad Bunny or something, though."

Charles laughs and pulls you out of the dancefloor, to a more private part of the club where you both can catch your breath and share a few kisses, unafraid of people staring at you.

New York, United States, September 7th.

You know you're in trouble when Mildred calls tells you that you need to be at her office ASAP. She also used that condescending 'I'm the adult' tone that send you back to when you were fifteen and got in trouble with your mother, so it's another indication that she's angry at you.

Of course you know why, the words 'PR nightmare' haven't left your brain in days. And the moment you set foot in New York, Mildred was all over you about every single thing that was being said about the Monza Incident—aka seeing your boyfriend like any normal person would.

"This isn't ideal," Mildred says after a while, she has been explaining the public's perception of you for the past half hour. "It's like you—"

"Like I fucked up?" you cut her off, squeezing your knees to stop from biting your nails.

"We were rebuilding your brand, y/n. People think you waited for things to die a little so you could go public with Charles. Aidan's new album is not helping your case."

If you thought 'In Your Pocket' was bad, nothing compared to the rest of the songs. Some in which he called you a list of things including a homie-hopper, drama starter and said you settled for a 'bum' when you could have had a 'rockstar'.

"How is that my fault?" you don't intend to sound so whiny, but you can't help it. Why are Aidan's actions always your fault somehow?

"People are talking more about how you are dating a Ferrari Driver after spending months saying you weren't, rather than the fact that you landed an incredibly important role."

"We haven't told anyone we're dating,"

Mildred rolls her eyes despite her best efforts to remain professional. "Do you really think that's necessary?"

"What do you suggest we do?" you ask, knowing you won't like the answer.

─── team principal radio: ❝remember when I said it wouldn't take me one month to update delicate and then it took me longer than that? I'M SO SORRY LMAO. also not loving this chapter but i just want it out of my way for now i need it off my drafts, but don't worry this time i'll try for the next not to take me a century. thank you if you're still here, your patience means the world to me i love you all so muuuuch♡❞

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[badnoahmens]

Sweep Me Off My Feet

Noah Sebastian x Reader

A/N: this was an anon request - I hope I did you proud! “Reader and him are bffs and she gets really depressed staying alone during the shutdown, so Noah picks her up and she ends up living with him during it all. So everyone else in the band quickly realizes that they are more than besties, just in the way they act with each other.”

42 days into this ‘lockdown’, you think. 42 days since it was all over the news, ‘stay in your house, don’t leave unless it's for a medical reason. Blah blah blah’. The panic has started to subside, people are somewhat used to the idea now, despite how upsidedown the world is seeming. The days were just so long, and the nights seemed to drag on forever. There wasn’t really an end in sight, just more and more delays of the inevitable. “Lockdown extended another week…month… the rest of our lives”.

There was only one thing helping you get through this, and that was Noah. He would be the one who always answered the phone, answered the messages, sent you hilarious videos or photos of himself. It was this connection that was what was stopping you from going insane.

Your house was otherwise empty. You lived on your own, along with your dying house plants. A blanket of darkness was getting ever so comfortable to live in, and it was becoming dangerous. You would go days without showering, the house was a mess, and the food you were eating could barely even be called edible.

It was 4pm, and you still hadn’t left the couch. Staring mind-numbingly at the TV as a show that auto-played in front of you. It was like your brain was paralyzing you, stopping from being alive. Instead, just existing; taking up space.

The only light in the room came from the TV as figures from an unknown show ran about their lives. The curtains were shut and all the doors and windows closed. A sudden brrrrrrrr from your phone drew you out of the shroud you were in, the phone screen lighting up with a new message.

Noah: Have you drank any water today?

You scoff. Was this man stalking you?

You reply: since when are you tracking my vitals?

You stand, bones creaking and cracking as you finally show some sign of life, and then saunter over to the kitchen. A cup that looks relatively clean sits by the sink, so you fill it up with water and drink it as quickly as you can.

Your phone lights up again.

Noah: You just drank some, didn’t you?

Your response? Nothing. He knows he’s right. You won’t even need to say anything.

Noah: knew it.

You: shut up.

You look down at your phone, and then around at the house. It was embarrassing. The smell was suddenly becoming apparent, and it was a concoction of body sweat, dampness and something else that might have been the dead plant.

You sigh. Knowing this wasn’t any way to live. Leaving the TV playing, you walk upstairs and to the bathroom, twisting the handles in the shower so the water comes pouring down. The steam begins to hollow out and you strip from your clothes, tossing them to the side. The waterfall feels clean, it envelopes you and you close your eyes in bliss. Why has this been so hard to do? The scent of your shampoo brings a slight smile to your face when you wash your hair, and it may just be because you were proud of yourself just for doing that. As you rinse your hair, there was a noise from outside the bathroom. A bang. Then a crash. Then a… clink?

Your heartbeat rises. Someone else was there, it wasn’t from the tv and you knew it. With shaking hands you shut off the shower and grasp your towel, wrapping your body in it roughly. Your mind starts to race. Will they leave without knowing you were there? Will they find you? What will they do if they do? Looking around the room, you panic when your phone is missing. It’s still downstairs. Fuck.

The footfalls grow louder as they climb the stairs, slowly. And then, as though he knows you would be hiding, Noah calls out.

“Are you home? It’s just me! Please don't attack me!”

The breath you were holding onto finally is let out, and you stomp over to the door, swinging it open aggressively.

“What the fuck, Noah!” You yell at him, hair dripping onto the floor as he stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. His hair was longer now, coming close to sitting on his shoulders. His dark brown eyes were wide as they stared at you, in a towel, in the middle of the hallway, with an angry expression twisted in your face. “I thought you were coming to kill me!”

It was then that you noticed a bag in his hand, a garbage bag, full of the rubbish that has been littering your house for weeks. “Are you cleaning?”

He still is looking at you, “I thought it would help…” he says sheepishly.

“Why are you cleaning?” you ask, quite literally dumbfounded.

“I know what you’re like. This isn’t healthy. I’m cleaning and you’re going to pack a bag and come live with us” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Come live with you?”

He nods his head, then turns and walks into your bedroom. You see the light in the room shift as he slides the curtains and opens the window, letting a light breeze slowly waft into the room and down towards you. You’re still confused as you see him rummaging around in your bedroom, throwing rubbish into a bag, then looking up to meet your confused stare.

“I can pack a bag for you if you’re just going to stand there” he remarks, and you respond quickly.

“I’ll pack myself, thank you very much. I’ve seen your fashion sense and I don’t trust you”

“What do you mean!” Noah calls back in disbelief.

“Grass shoes!” You yell back.

He stands in silence for a moment. “Enough said,” he states finally in defeat.

As you walk into your room, you start to feel overwhelmed watching Noah already having a full bag of trash. He was here all of 5 minutes and had done more around the house than you had in a month. Guilt started to eat away at the pit of your stomach, and Noah noticed the energy shift in the room. When he looked at you tears started to form.

“Hey…. Hey hey hey hey” he says, dropping the bag and coming to your side, wrapping his long arms around you. You bury your head in his chest and loop your arms around him. Breathing in his scent helped, but it didn’t stop the tears completely.

“I can stop if it’s not helping”

“No, please, I’m just sorry. It’s a lot. I haven’t seen you in so long”

“I know, but I knew I had to do something.”

It took all of a few hours to get the house into a relatively clean state. With bags of rubbish out of the way, clothes and dishes put back into their place, weeks of dirt and grime finally cleaned, you started to feel alive again. There was something about spending time with Noah that made you feel better. When the sun was starting to set, your house looked normal, bags were packed, and you were closing the door behind you as you left and walked towards Noah’s car.

The drive back to his house was quiet. You watched out the window as the view zoomed past. It seemed odd being outside, to be moving somewhere especially when you were not supposed to be leaving your house. But this was essential. This was for a medical reason. If Noah had not come to help you, who knows how long it would have taken to start completely falling apart.

When you finally pulled into the driveway, Noah stepped out and collected your bags, then headed straight inside having you follow him in. Although it was early, you were exhausted.

“I think I might just go straight to bed,” you murmur to Noah. He nods, then leads you to a bedroom. It was mostly bare, but it would be perfect. After how much clutter you had been surrounded with lately, the minimalism was refreshing.

You drop your bags on the bed, then turn to see Noah at the door.

“If you need anything, you know to come find me” he speaks softly. You nod in response. He then closes the door leaving you with nothing but yourself.

You look around the room. A bed was pushed up against the wall. A painting hung opposite it, and a plant stood tall in the corner by the door. The view out of the window showed the tall tree that stood in the backyard by the timber fence, and it looked like there were a few small birds taking up residence in a nest off one of the branches. You smiled at the birds, admiring their own peacefulness. They were content. Happy. Living with what they had. You were determined to get there yourself.

After a restless night’s sleep, you awoke to the sun shining through the window. The birds had left for the morning, possibly to get their food, and you decided you needed to do the same.

As you exit out of your new bedroom, the house is quiet aside from the muffled sounds of the tv from around the corner. You come around to see the animated faces of unknown characters playing out. It was an anime, and you were unfamiliar, but you did recognise the back of 2 heads facing the screen with their back to you. Noah and Jolly were sitting down on a couch lost in the adventure they were watching. You rounded the couch and slumped next to them. Nothing needed to be said, and nothing was said. They just shifted over to give you more room and continued on with their show.

This is what you needed. This new normal. With people around you. People that made you smile, made you actually want to get up in the morning, and to watch funny shows with.

As the anime continued, you started to ask some questions. “So who’s side are we supposed to be on?” “Aren’t they supposed to be the bad guy?” “What do you mean they just died?” “How old are these characters supposed to be?”

Noah and Jolly answered every single one of them, explaining plot points, theories and sometimes even loopholes in the storytelling.

After an hour, Jolly left to retreat to the kitchen, leaving yourself and Noah sitting side by side. He looked over at you, sharing a smile, and threw his arm over your shoulder. The action made you fall onto his side, a strangely comforting feeling after being so distant for so long. But a feeling that you knew you could get used to pretty quick.

2 months have passed now. You were still living with Noah and the boys. He still made you laugh and smile like you never had before. The days were simple, spending time with each other, watching shows, writing music, and playing games. But tonight it was another night on the couch. It became a tradition these days to all be sprawled out, limbs over limbs, invading personal space, all in an effort to spend quality time together and work as a close unit of friends. It felt so natural with them, they were beyond welcoming, and made you feel like a part of the family.

Just like all the nights that had passed previously, Nick was the first to go, standing with a sigh, rubbing his belly, and sauntering off into his room. Next to follow was Jolly, after many arguments about his falling asleep during the show, he finally admitted defeat and retreated back to his bedroom.

This left you and Noah alone. The growing haze of sleepiness was creeping ever so close to taking over. Your eyelids felt so heavy that it was impossible to keep them open. I’ll just rest my eyes for a minute, you say to yourself, knowing full well this was the biggest lie. It was mere seconds until the dream state took you under.

You were abruptly awoken by the feeling of rummaging coming from beneath you. Lifting your head from its place, you peer between the slits of your open eyes. You’re met with Noah’s face looking at you, perplexed and a little worried.

“Go back to sleep, I’m sorry I woke you” he whispers in a soft tone, a little raspy and sleepy himself.

Twisting your head you can see you laying by his side, squished between his body and the back of the couch pillows. Noah was laying on his back, dangling close to the edge, one leg hanging off at the knee to stop from slipping off altogether. His hands rested on your back, gliding up and down in a soothing motion. His arm was twisted around your side, with you nestled comfortably and quite perfectly fitted under his arm with head resting on his chest.

A hand of yours was tucked under your head, and it takes a second to realize how you got here. When you fell asleep, you must have slipped down onto Noah, and him being the gentleman he is, didn’t want to wake you. Was he asleep himself? By the look of his hair, spread across the beige pillow in a tangled mess, it’d be a good guess to say that he was.

You lay your head down once more, gazing drizzly up at Noah, who tenderly brushed some of the loose strands of hair away from your face.

“You know you talk in your sleep” he uttered quietly, as if not to disturb the peacefulness of the moment.

Still half asleep, you close your eyes and sigh.

“I was afraid of that” you whisper.

“It was adorable,” he says, a gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Noah leans his head down, straining it at an almost awkward angle, to meet your face. Suddenly, you weren’t so sleepy anymore. He was so close. His breath washed over your face and wafted down past your neck. He was lingering, slow, questioningly. Did he want this? Did you? Shivers were running down your spine, possibly from the surge of butterflies in your stomach. Noah was your friend, your closest friend, and would this ruin it? Thoughts were running wild in your head, dancing dangerously close to ruining what was about to happen.

Noah notices, he sees you hesitate, and he pulls back. Your stomach drops.

“I’m sorry, I-“ he starts.

You interrupt him by leaning up and meeting his lips with yours. He flinched at the impact, but didn't pull back. Instead, his lips move like yours, mimicking the motion you create, parting slightly to allow just that tiny bit more of a connection. You slide up, straddling Noah so that your thighs are at the sides of his torso, moving your hands so they are on either side of his face, fingers tangling with his long hair in a feeble attempt to ground yourself in the moment. His hands move too, gingerly griping at your hips, but not as to hold, but to caress. You feel a tremor of anticipation across your body, the light pressure that he creates between you two, rolling his body to be closer to yours, makes the sensation even more intimate.

You’re still kissing him, heavily. His mouth parts more, flicking the tip of his tongue over your lips as though to ask for more. You respond with the same motion, with tongues now intertwining as you begin to taste him. The fears and worries from before are long gone, and all that you could think of now was him, was that he wants this just as much as you do.

The intensity between you and Noah grows more. It's as if the universe has narrowed down to this singular moment, where every touch, every sensation, becomes heightened and electrifying. The taste of his lips, the warmth of his breath, the softness of his skin — it all consumes your senses.

With each passing second, the kiss deepens, evolving into something more profound and passionate. Your tongues dance together, exploring the uncharted territory of each other's mouths. It's a delicate balance between fervor and tenderness, a beautiful symphony of desire and affection, orchestrated perfectly just for the two of you.

Noah's hands glide up your sides, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. As his hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers gently caress your skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body and intensifying the sensation. Time becomes irrelevant as you revel in this newfound closeness. The outside world ceases to exist, and it's just the two of you, entwined in an embrace that speaks volumes without uttering a single word. In this intimate dance, you feel a profound sense of trust and vulnerability, knowing that you are sharing something special and rare.

You can feel him begin to writhe beneath you, legs shifting and pressing against the space between yours. You pause momentarily, letting the moment linger, before reciprocating the same passion, grinding down with your hips to create friction between your clothes. The moan that elicits from Noah echoes into your mouth, the feeling of pleasure taking over him for a moment. As the kiss lingers, your hands wander, discovering the contours of each other's bodies. His hands now gripping desperately at your body, one cinched below your thigh, pulling it up closer to him, the other hooked around the back of your neck, thumb rubbing delicate shapes into your skin. Every touch, every caress, elicits a gasp or a sigh from both of you, like a plea for more.

But eventually, the need for air becomes undeniable, and you reluctantly break the kiss, your lips still tingling from the connection. Breathless and flushed, you meet Noah's gaze, searching for reassurance and affirmation. He looks back at you, with the same search in his eyes. Almost like he’s looking for answers too, like he’s asking if he could continue. You lean your forehead against Noah's, your breaths intermingling as you revel in the afterglow of that passionate kiss. Both of you are out of breath, panting in an effort to regain some kind of consciousness. Time seems to stand still, as if the universe itself is holding its breath, acknowledging the significance of this shared moment. That is, until the rattle of the fridge door, and the flood of its light tears you from the moment, violently throwing you back to the reality around you. With a jolt, your head darts towards the source, the silhouette of Jolly in the fridge gives you your answer.

“Bout time you guys kiss and make up” he says, with such a carefree nature, a hint of humor playing in his last words. “Nick, you owe me 20!” He calls, exiting the room and around the corner.

“We’re they fucking, or just making out?” You hear Nick call from another room.

“Just making out. Thank Christ” Jolly answers to himself, leaving you and Noah to giggle, flushed red with embarrassment. Despite being caught in the act, it didn’t dampen the mood. You were still straddling Noah, but sitting more upright now. He sits up, readjusting so you sit atop his lap. He brushes a loose strand behind your ear, and looks at you tenderly.

It might be the lack of oxygen, but the way the colorful light from the tv dances on Noah’s face makes him seem more beautiful, like something you’ve never seen in him before.

In the room's shifting shadows, the illustrations decorating his neck come alive, dancing in the changing colors that starkly contrast with the white of his shirt. His hair was a mess, tangled and knitted from your fingers, but it was his eyes, and the way they looked into your soul, that made you feel at home. With your hands draped around his neck, you lean in once more, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. He closes his eyes and leans into you again, pushing his hands against your back to make you closer to him as you both revel in the fleeting moment. Even if it did change things in the future, you didn’t care.

[multi-fandom-things730]

Misguided Messages

Summary: Y/N’s ex can’t handle the fact that she moved on from him and she’s happy with Hook. But when he starts doing more than sending them glares backstage, Hook makes it known that you don’t ever threaten his girl.

Warnings: creepy ex, cussing, violence, blood, threats, fights, protective!Hook, angst?, fluff, simp!Hook, teensy tiny bit of spice if you squint

𝘼/𝙉: AAAAHHHHH, I’m doing it! I’m finally posting an imagine🥳😭 I hope you guys love it! It’s definitely not perfect, and I’ve got a lot to learn, but I tried my bestest! And of course I have to give SO MUCH THANKS to @99hook!!🧡 I would never have posted this if it wasn’t for her love and support!!!! Thank you so much bestie for motivating me and I hope you love it bestie!!!🥰🧡🖤

Having an ex work at the same company as you shouldn't be that big of a deal.

You'd think everyone should be able to behave professionally and go about their day to day lives normally.

But no; because Y/N's ex didn't know the meaning of the word normal.

He was a low card wrestler at AEW; barely even on tv. He was only shown when the better wrestlers needed an easy win.

She had dated him a long time ago, back when she was in college and he was still in the indies.

But now she had risen the ranks in AEW backstage, and was a fan favorite backstage interviewer and occasionally she even got to dabble in storylines.

It was right around when he first joined Team Taz that Hook met Y/N.

There was an instant attraction between the two, and she even pulled his first words out of him in a backstage interview.

Everyone could see the chemistry between them; even the fans picked up on it.

The fans really started to ship them after a particular incident.

"So Ricky, Hook, how is Team Taz feeling about the upcoming-" Her question is cut short when Darby Allin and Sting come from out of nowhere and attack the two. 

Y/N let's out a pained yell as she gets pushed over in the chaos and twists her ankle.

Her eyes widen however when Hook punches Sting extremely hard in the gut, before running over to kneel beside her.

He scoops her up into his arms and backs away from the fight. "Are you ok?"

"I'm ok" she replies. "You should go help Ricky, I'm alright"

Hook just shakes his head no, casting one more glance over to Ricky. He and Ricky exchange nods, and he knows Ricky's got it handled.

So he turns and walks down the hall towards the medical room. "I saw you land on your ankle; how bad does it hurt?"

"Not that bad" Y/N answers. "I think my heels just made it hurt worse"

Hook nods, and it's then that he notices the camera man following them.

He scowls, and adjusts Y/N so he's holding her with one arm before shoving the camera to the ground. "Get that shit out of her face!"

After that, fans were itching to see them get together. And even though neither one were willing to admit it, they were too.

But it wasn't until Hook's in ring debut that it finally happened.

"Hey Hook!" Y/N runs over to him with an excited smile. "Are you excited to debut?!"

"Damn.." Hook can't help but audibly groan at the sight of her.

She was always a sight to behold, but tonight she looked even more breathtaking than usual. She had on a cropped corset top with a see through bodice that had floral lace patterns etched onto it, high waisted leather short-shorts, knee high black boots that had orange rhinestones bedazzling the heel, her natural hair down, and very light makeup; the only pop of color was bright orange highlighting the inner corner of her eye.

"Y-Yeah" Hook stutters out an answer to her question.

"You're gonna do absolutely amazing!" Y/N encourages.

He smiles, bashful at her praise. "Thanks Y/N"

"Tyler!" The two look up when Hook's name is called.

Taz, who was walking over to check on his son, can't help but smirk and chuckle at the pink color on Hook's cheeks. That was definitely not something you see everyday.

"How are you feeling about your first match son?" Taz asks, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm all good dad" he replies.

"And Y/N, it's always lovely to see you honey" Taz greets. "And you're representing the FTW colors, I love it"

"Thanks Taz" Y/N grins. "I thought it was appropriate given Hook's debut"

"Absolutely!" Taz agrees with a grin. "You know, it's a shame to put that outfit to waste"

"What do you mean?" Y/N asks.

"Well, Ricky and Hobbs aren't able to go out with Hook tonight. So, if you're both cool with it, you could go out with him. Maybe stand ringside" Taz offers.

Hook's eyes widen as he shoots his dad a warning look. His dad was always trying to meddle with him and Y/N-

"I'd love to!"

His eyes widen even more as his head snaps back down to look at Y/N. "R-Really?"

"Yeah! If you'd like me too, of course" Y/N replies.

"Yes! I'd be happy for you to" Hook scrambles to get the words out fast enough before doing his best to recollect himself and return his face to its usual stoicalness.

Taz let's out a laugh, before patting Hook's shoulder. "Well I best be going, commercial's almost over and I gotta get back to commentary. You're up next son, and you're gonna do great. See you two later"

They both say goodbye before Hook turns to Y/N. "Sorry he just volunteered you to do that. You really don't have to if you don't want to"

"What are you talking about?" Y/N asks. "Of course I want to"

Before Hook can respond his music hits.

"Well go on!" Y/N encourages. "I'll be right behind you"

He smiles back at her, and takes a deep breath before daring to peck her on the cheek really quickly before walking out.

Y/N falters for a second, and blushes wildly while her fingers brush over where he kissed her.

Then she snaps out of it and follows him out.

Y/N grins proudly at the pop he gets from the audience, and claps along with them as she trails behind him down the ramp.

He circles the ring as Y/N stops in his corner.

Hook climbs in and walks over to his corner, paying Fuego Del Sol no mind as he leans against the turnbuckle.

Y/N smirks mischievously before climbing up to the apron and looking right in Hook's eyes.

He has to stop himself from reacting to the close proximity of their faces as she leans against the opposite side of the turnbuckle.

"I know you're gonna do amazing" she smiles softly, running her hand over his jaw.

He has to fight as hard as possible to stop a smile from overtaking his face.

Her thumb trails over his bottom lip as he stares at her adoringly.

And when the ref walks over to tap Hook on the shoulder so he'll turn around, she pecks him right on the lips before hopping off the apron and down to ringside.

His eyes widen, and his eyes trail after her.

She smirks at him, and points towards Fuego to indicate he should turn around.

He sends her a smirk back before turning to focus on his match.

He officially asked her to be his girl as soon as they got backstage, and she was so excited to say yes. After that Y/N and Hook were always together.

She always accompanied him to the ring, and Hook would be lying if he said he didn't love getting to show her off.

Y/N in turn, loved to be shown off by him. The way he was so proud to be her boyfriend made her heart melt.

Y/N was also not afraid to get in someone's face if they were messing with Hook.

At Hook's third match, when QT Marshall grabbed his ankle, Y/N was quick to intervene.

"Hey! Bastard!" Y/N storms around the ring to plant herself face to face with QT Marshall.

Was he much bigger than her, and a trained wrestler? Yes. But did he intimidate her? Not at all.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh!" Ricky exclaims from commentary. "Pissed off woman headed your way QT! Better watch out!"

Taz laughs. "Ain't no saving him now!"

"Keep your pathetic hands to your damn self!" She screams. "You're just pissed because Hook has already surpassed you and this is only his third professional match! You're so desperate to prove that you can train someone better than him; and you're too stupid to realize that's never gonna happen! Because Hook has more natural talent in his pinky finger than you have in your whole body!"

Hook can't help but peer over at his girl, a cocky smirk resting on his face as he watches her defend him.

"You listen here-" QT points his finger in Y/N's face.

But he's cut off by the bell ringing, signaling the end of the match.

Neither of them had realized that Hook locked Solo in a redrum.

Y/N let's out a cheer as she hops up onto the apron, but before she fully steps into the ring QT beats her to it.

Hook lightly pushes her back, signaling for her not to get in as he steps up to QT.

Hook turns away from QT after a moment, sick of the man yelling in his face, and that’s when QT grabs Hook's arm and yanks Hook around to face him.

The look on Hook's face is dangerous, and QT quickly raises his hands in surrender.

But it was way too late, and Y/N lets out a laugh when Hook hits him with an overhead throw and plants him onto the mat.

Hook turns back to her, and jumps out of the ring. He stops and holds his hand out to help her down.

She smiles at him as the two walk up the ramp, with Hook placing his hand on Y/N's hip and pulling her into his side.

"You screaming at him was so fucking sexy" he breathes into her ear.

Y/N looks up at him, and he smirks at the blush on her face.

But QT Marshall just never knew when to quit.

The match between Serpentico and Hook was extremely quick.

Serpentico didn't even have an opportunity to take his kimono off before he tapped.

Taz, Ricky, and Y/N were all laughing and cheering for Hook's win as he kept Serpentico locked in the redrum after the bell.

But Y/N's smile morphs into a glare when QT Marshall comes strolling out. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, this is the exact crap I'm talking about! Hey! This is what I'm talking about! You idiots don't realize what he's doing!"

Hook lets Serpentico go to turn and face QT with an annoyed look.

"Hitting the guy before the bell, keeping the choke on too long. His dad's laughing about it, his girlfriend's cheering him on" QT complains.

Y/N quirks an amused eyebrow at him, and nods her head.

Taz laughs again from his seat at the commentary table. "Yeah I am"

Hook just rolls his eyes and waits for Y/N to join him at his side before walking up the ramp.

"He's a delinquent!" QT exclaims.

Y/N intertwines her fingers with his as they walk by QT without acknowledging him.

But Y/N let's out a surprised yelp when QT grabs her arm and turns her to face him.

Hook feels her be yanked back, and whips around with a furious glare.

He pushes Y/N behind him, before getting chest to chest with QT.

QT continues to scream, but Hook doesn't really hear any of it. All he knows is that QT touched his girl.

Hook grabs QT and T-Bones him as hard as he can.

Hook stands up, and walks over to Y/N. "You ok baby?"

"Yeah, I'm good Ty" she answers with a smile.

Hook takes her hand again, and steps over QT's body.

He then turns around to place his hands on Y/N's waist and pick her up to place her on the other side of QT so she doesn't have to step over him.

Taz is still laughing at commentary as the two walk backstage. "You never put your hands on Hook's girl! And if you do, he's gonna teach you a lesson you'll never forget!"

"They're like AEW's Bonnie and Clyde!" Excalibur says with a laugh.

Y/N also started learning to commentate around that time, and Taz was happy to be her mentor.

Y/N was sitting at the commentary table next to Taz. She was quiet for the time being, because QT Marshall was out there with one of his students and Y/N refused to acknowledge him.

But then something catches her attention, and she turns to look at QT with a raised eyebrow. "Ladies and gentlemen, the recipient of the first ever QT Marshall certificate of accomplishment: Hook!"

She crosses her arms as she stares QT down, suspicious of his intentions.

But she can't help a smile growing on her face when Hook's music hits, and he comes walking out.

He glances over at her before making his way down the ramp.

"What?!" Chris Jericho exclaims surprisedly.

"The cold-hearted handsome devil: Hook" Excalibur says.

"Here he comes!" Jericho exclaims excitedly.

"We're not quite sure what the hell this is about with QT and the certificate of accomplishment" Taz says.

"Hook looks annoyed that somebody woke him up to send him out here" Jericho laughs, making Y/N laugh as well. "He probably is"

"QT likes to take a lot of credit for training Hook" Y/N rolls her eyes.

Y/N goes to stand up, but Taz grabs her arm and lightly pulls her back down. "Don't go smacking the guy up just yet Y/N" he says with a chuckle.

Y/N recrosses her arms as she keeps her eyes fixed on the ring.

"This is such a special night" QT starts. "I mean normally a mentor-" he stops when the crowd starts chanting for Hook. "Yeah, give it to him guys. He deserves it. Normally a mentor would get jealous when his protege surpasses him, but not me, I'm not a selfish kind of guy-"

Y/N laughs when the audience boos at that.

"I'm not!" QT insists. "So I’m just gonna get right to it.  Hook, congratulations. This is something you're gonna be able to tell your grandkids about. You are the recipient of the inaugural, first ever, QT Marshall certificate of accomplishment"

QT takes the plaque from Aaron Solo as he shoots off a confetti gun.

Y/N can't help but giggle at the unimpressed look on Hook's face as confetti falls around him.

"What the hell is going on?" Taz groans.

But then Hook slams Solo's head into the certificate, making Y/N and Taz burst into laughter as Hook makes his way back up the ramp.

But Y/N's smile drops when Danhausen comes creeping out from backstage.

She immediately stands up and storms over when Danhausen tries to curse Hook.

Hook is completely unfazed, and moves to step around Danhausen.

But Y/N snatches the back of Danhausen's shirt and pulls him around to face her before slapping him right in the face.

Everyone at the commentary table cringes at the sound.

"Y/N just slapped the taste out of Danhausen's mouth!" Jericho laughs hysterically at the shocked look on Danhausen's face.

"I think the curse backfired on Danhausen!" Excalibur exclaims.

"You don't mess with Y/N's man you guys" Taz laughs.

Hook wraps his arm around Y/N's waist and pulls her backstage as she glares at Danhausen.

"Calm down mamas" he breathes into her ear.

Hook smirks as she falters, and he admires the blush lighting up her face. "You like that nickname mamas?"

Y/N nods, burying her face in his chest as she hugs around his torso.

He laughs softly and presses a kiss on top of her head. "The last time you reacted like that was when I called you babygirl"

He just laughs again when she has a similar reaction, before swatting his chest. "Stop teasing me!"

"I'm sorry babygirl" he says in a low tone. He lets his hands trail down her body to rest on her hips. "I didn't mean to tease you. I just love those cute little reactions.. my cute girl"

Y/N smiles up at him, and gets on her tip toes to press a kiss to his nose.

Hook's face flushes red, and it's Y/N's turn to smirk. "It's ok, because I love your cute little reactions too honey"

Hook squeezes her hips, and leans down to bury his head in the crook of her neck. That nickname always made him bashful and blush.

Y/N giggles and runs her fingers through his hair.

Even after Hook accepted Danhausen as a tag partner, Y/N was a little unsure of him.

She didn't like how he wanted to fight Hook at first, and Y/N was a little protective of Hook.

But he did grow on her eventually, and she was so excited when the two worked together to beat Tony Nese and Mark Sterling.

But it was around this time that Y/N's ex was suddenly unable to keep his stupid fucking mouth shut.

"Hello Miss Y/N" she hears from behind her, and turns to face Danhausen with a smile.

"Hello Danhausen" she greets back. "How are you today?"

"Very well, very well indeed. I just came over to see-"

"Y/N" Danhausen is cut off by a man he doesn't recognize stepping out in front of them.

Y/N rolls her eyes, but Danhausen notices the way she takes a step closer to him. "What do you want Matthew?"

"I just wanted to talk to you without your little boy toy behind you" Matthew scowls.

"Uh, hello. Danhausen here" Danhausen waves. "She has a very evil friend instead"

"Like I'm scared of you" Matthew laughs.

"Like you have any room to talk" Y/N retorts. "At least Danhausen gets matches. When was the last time you wrestled? I don't even know, but I'm sure it was a throw away match to get someone else over"

Y/N smirks at the look on Matthew's face, knowing what she said was true.

"Just leave me the fuck alone Matthew" Y/N demands. "You know I have a boyfriend. And he is a hundred times the man you could ever dream of being, and makes me a million times happier than you ever did"

With that she grabs Danhausen's arm and pulls him down the hall with her.

"I'm not gonna give up that easily! Mark my words, you'll be hearing from me!" Matthew yells.

Danhausen turns to curse him, but Y/N just yanks him down the hallway. "He's not even worth it"

"Who was that despicable person?" Danhausen asks.

"He's just an ex" Y/N answers. "He just has a hard time accepting that I broke up with him. He hadn't bothered me in a while though.. I thought he was finally gonna leave me alone"

"We should tell Hook" Danhausen says.

"No! Please don't!” Y/N immediately replies. "Tyler will loose his damn mind, and he needs to be focused on his match tonight. The last thing I want is for him to get suspended or something because he attacked Matthew. Which we both know is what he'll do"

Danhausen is silent for a few moments, before huffing. "Fine, Danhausen will not tell for now. But if he bothers you any more we must"

It didn't take very long for him to do just that.

But this time he made the mistake of doing it when Hook was around.

Y/N giggles at a joke Danhausen tells her as the two sit in catering.

It was late; the last match had wrapped up a while ago, so they were the only ones there.

They had decided to hang out at the venue a little later than usual, and Hook was now taking a shower really quick before the three headed out.

"Hey Y/N"

"Ew!" Danhausen screams. "It is creepy rat man!"

Y/N can't help but burst out in laughter at Matthew's expense.

"I want to talk to you" Matthew says, attempting to be assertive in his tone.

But Y/N had changed a lot from the meek girl she was when she was with him. That tone may have worked on her once, but never again.

And she knew that infuriated him when she looked over at him with a bored expression. "I don't wanna talk to you though. So too bad"

"You really think you're all that now because you're Hook's latest piece of ass, huh? He doesn't give a damn about you, but you're too fucking stupid to realize that. He'll never treat you the way I did-"

"The way you did?!" Y/N exclaims, jumping up from her seat to glare daggers at him. "You're right. Tyler would never treat me the way you did. He would never treat me like I'm worth nothing more than a fuck. You expected to be able to treat me like shit, and then still have me waiting for your beck and call. Well newsflash Matthew; you may have destroyed me back then, but I healed myself. And Tyler has shown me what it's like to be loved. He's shown me what being with a real man is like"

"Hey bitch!" Everyone's head snap over to the hallway, where Hook is storming over with a look in his eyes that Y/N had never seen.

Hook snatches Matthew up by the collar with a dangerous look on his face before landing a vicious punch right on his jaw.

"Tyler!" Y/N exclaims as Danhausen immediately tries to pull him off of Matthew. 

Y/N grabs his arm and pulls him towards her.

Hook let's her do so, but he doesn't stop glaring at Matthew. "You mess with my girl again and I'll knock your fucking teeth in"

And after that Hook lets Y/N drag him down the hallway.

Neither one of them say a word until they get to Hook's dressing room.

Hook wordlessly sits down on the couch, and furrows his eyebrows when Y/N lingers by the door and doesn't sit down next to him.

He holds his hand out, signaling for her to come over to him, but she doesn't.

"Get your cute little ass over here" Hook says with a little pout.

Y/N breaks out into a smile at that, and does as told.

When she gets close enough he grabs her hips and pulls her down to sit on his lap facing him.

Y/N wraps her arms around his torso and buries her head against the side of his neck. "I'm sorry"

"For what?" Hook asks, leaning back a little in an attempt to look at her. But she holds on tighter and doesn't let him. "For all that with Matthew"

"It wasn't your fault" Hook replies, but she can feel his body tense. "Who was he though?"

"He's an ex" Y/N answers.

Hook doesn't like the vague answer, and gently wraps his hands in her hair to pull her head up and makes eye contact with her. He didn't give a damn about some stupid little ex of Y/N's; he knew that Y/N only wanted him, just like he only wanted her. But he does care when that ex starts bothering her. "Has he been bothering you before today?"

Y/N shrinks under his gaze, but when she tries to look down he tightens the grip on her hair slightly. "I.. Only a couple times"

"Y/N" Hook chides. "These are the kinds of things you have to tell me"

"I know" Y/N says softly. "I just didn't want you to get in a fight with him or something"

Hook sighs, before pulling her to him and kissing her softly.

When they pull away Y/N lays her head on his chest as Hook runs his hand up and down her back, occasionally kissing her head and whispering sweet words to her.

That was a couple months ago, and Matthew had let up a bit.

He never approached her in person anymore; but he did message and call her.

Y/N knew she should tell Hook, but she was scared he'd snap and beat him up again.

It was a miracle that Matthew didn't report Hook the first time, and Y/N didn't want to risk Hook loosing his job over her.

So she just dealt with his abusive texts and voicemails, and did her best to not let it bother her.

But it obviously did, and Hook was beginning to pick up on it.

Like right now.

Y/N and Hook were snuggled up together on their hotel bed. Y/N was tucked into his side with her head on his chest, and Hook had his chin resting on top of her head while absentmindedly running his fingers up and down her back.

But then Y/N's phone started ringing.

Hook began to move to hand it to her, but she squeezed him tighter. "Don't move" she whined.

He laughs softly at her, and peers down at her with an adoring smile. "You're adorable babygirl, but it could be something important"

Y/N pouts, before turning to grab her phone.

Hook looked back at the tv, which was playing a rerun of Y/N's favorite show.

Hook had turned it on for her while she was getting ready for bed.

But his head snaps over to her when he hears a little sniffle escape her. 

He pulls himself up to rest against the headboard, and gently places a hand on her back. "Talk to me mamas.. tell me what's going on so I can help you"

Y/N hesitates, and stares down at her phone. "I'm scared to"

Hook furrows his eyebrows at that. Why would she be scared to tell him something?

Hook places his hands on her waist and turns her to face him. She looks down at the bed, but he puts his finger under her chin and tilts her head up to look at him. "You can tell me anything Y/N. Anything. You know that"

"I know.." She mumbles. "It's not how it sounds. I just don't want you to get in trouble"

"Why would I get in trouble?" Hook asks.

"Because I think you may kill someone" Y/N answers with a soft smile.

Hook cracks a smile as well. "If they're bothering you, you may be right"

"Tyler" Y/N chides, lightly swatting his chest as they smile at each other.

"Ok, ok" he relents. "I at least won't kill anyone tonight"

Y/N takes a deep breath. "It's Matthew.."

Hook's eyes harden immediately, and he has to take a couple deep breaths of his own. "What about him?"

"Ever since you punched him, he hasn't come up to me in person. But he has been messaging and calling me" Y/N admits. "He always says the meanest things and it's just-" Y/N sniffles again, and Hook wipes away a stray tear with his thumb. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I just didn't want to say anything to you because I was scared you'd attack him and get suspended or fired and I can't even imagine you being gone and I-"

Hook cuts her rambling off by placing his lips against her's.

Y/N immediately melts into him, placing her hands on his neck as her holds her face and their lips move in sync.

He pulls away after a few seconds and kisses her forehead before speaking. "I'm not happy you didn't tell me.. but I guess I understand why. I shouldn't have acted the way I did before. Maybe then you would have told me-"

Y/N places a finger against his lips, cutting his sentence short. "No. You know what? Neither one of us is gonna apologize. Did either of us handle the situation perfectly? No. But none of it is our fault's; it's his"

Hook smiles softly before nodding.

He pulls her body flush against his, and nuzzles his head in the crook of her neck. Y/N giggles as he starts leaving kisses there.

"I think he's just mad because he doesn't have the sexiest girl in the world to keep him warm at night anymore" Hook teases, and Y/N let's out a surprised squeal when he slaps her ass.

"Tyler!" She chides through giggly laughter, and he laughs along too.

The two spend the rest of the night too wrapped up in each other's presence to even remember Matthew's name.

A couple of peaceful weeks went by after that.

Matthew had called a couple times and sent a couple of messages, but Y/N just ignored them.

She told Hook every time, and he wanted nothing more than to track Matthew down and make it so he was terrified to even breathe in Y/N's direction.

But she begged him not to do anything rash, and he reluctantly agreed.

Hook kept true to that agreement for almost a month.

The two were at the arena, getting ready for that night's rampage. Y/N had gotten into the shower while Hook was putting on his ring gear and taping his fists.

"Ty!" Y/N called.

Hook immediately hopped up and walked into the bathroom. "Yeah mamas?"

She doesn't say anything, but she sticks her head around the shower curtain and pouts her lips.

Hook smirks, and walks over to place his lips against her's.

He reaches into the shower, before she giggles and closes the curtain. "You can't come in here! You're gonna get your tape wet! And your precious hair!"

Hook just chuckles. "You're the one who called me in here"

With that he walks back into the dressing room, but stops when Y/N's phone starts lighting up.

He grabs it, and starts to circle back to the bathroom to let her know she had gotten some messages, when he realizes who the messages are from.

Hook scoffs as he watches more and more messages from Matthew pop up on the screen, and with each one he feels his body heating up in anger.

But then a particular one delivers, and Hook tosses the phone down on the couch before storming out of the room with a rapid heartbeat, a clenched jaw, and clenched fists.

When Y/N gets out of the shower, she is greeted with an empty dressing room.

She furrows her eyebrows in confusion, but figures Hook just left to do something real quick.

She gets dressed and started on her makeup.

But right as she finishes putting on her lipgloss her door is swung open, and Ricky Starks comes rushing in.

"What the hell Ricky?! You scared the hell out of me!" Y/N exclaims.

"You gotta come with me" Ricky says, and grabs her arm to pull her out of the room.

"Where? What's wrong?" Y/N asks.

"Hook's beating the hell out of some random jobber" Ricky answers, and Y/N feels her stomach drop.

The closer they get Y/N can hear the fighting and yelling, and she pulls away from Ricky to just run towards the sounds quicker.

"Tyler!" She screams when she sees him holding a bloody and beaten Matthew up against the wall by his neck.

"Huh?! Come on! Threaten someone who will fight back you son of a bitch!" Hook screams, not even hearing Y/N over the blood pumping in his ears.

"Tyler!" Y/N yells again, and runs over.

Hook whips around when he feels someone trying to pull him off of Matthew, but his wild eyes soften when the see it was Y/N.

But she wasn't looking at him, she was watching with wide eyes as Matthew slid right down the wall as soon as Hook wasn't holding him anymore.

"What the hell Tyler?!" Y/N yells.

Hook just stares at the floor, chest heaving and sweat running down his body.

"Matthew swung first" Ricky speaks up from behind them. "Hook went up to him yelling and shit, but he never touched Matthew until after he punched Hook"

"I knew you wouldn't want me to.." Hook mumbles, nervously looking up from the floor to make eye contact with her.

Y/N takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.

"Why don't you two go to Tony's office and explain all that then" Y/N says shortly, watching as medics finally run over and start tending to Matthew. She felt guilty that she just couldn't bring herself to feel bad for him. But Ricky said that Matthew swung first, so whatever happened to him was his own fault.

Hook doesn't move though, and stares at Y/N like a lost puppy. "Are you mad at me?"

Y/N sighs, before wrapping her arms around him in a hug. He immediately responds, wrapping his arms tightly around her in return.

"I'm not happy you came out here looking for him, as I assume that's why you left the room"

Y/N looks up at him with a pointed look, and he looks at the wall to avoid eye contact. "But, if he swung first then I'm not mad at you for the fight"

"I had to. I couldn't let him say what he said to you, I'll always defend you" Hook says firmly.

"What are you talking about?" Y/N asks with furrowed eyebrows.

"You didn't look at your phone?"

Y/N was sitting in her and Hook's shared hotel room while scrolling through all the messages Matthew sent that day.

And Y/N knew exactly which one must have set Hook off.

You don't wanna respond to me bitch? That's fine, because when Hook goes out for his match tonight I'm gonna find you and teach you to never ignore me again. And trust me, you'll never forget it.

Y/N didn't even want to think about what he had been planning to do before Hook found him; and she couldn't be anything but grateful to Hook.

She had heard that Matthew was in the hospital with broken bones and other injuries, and she wondered if that would have been her without Hook.

Matthew had never actually hit her during their relationship, but he came very close when she broke up with him.

But her thoughts are interrupted when the door swings open.

She jumps up and runs over to tightly hug Hook. "Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, it's all ok baby" Hook comforts, running his fingers through her hair. "There was a video of the whole thing so I'm not in any trouble"

"Thank God" Y/N breathes out. "And Matthew?"

"He's gonna be fired. You know, whenever he wakes up" Hook brags with a lopsided smirk.

Y/N laughs, and gets on her tiptoes to peck his lips. "I love you so much. And thank you, I can't help but think about what could have happened-"

Hook leans down to cut her off with a kiss, before pulling away and resting his forehead against her's. He lets his hands rest on her hips as he stares into her eyes. "You don't ever have to worry about someone hurting you. Not ever again. Not when I'm around, which will be forever"

Y/N smiles, and lets out a surprised laugh when he picks her up and carries her over to the bed.

She gets comfortable under the covers as he puts on pajamas.

He lays down next to her and she immediately nuzzles into his side.

Hook wraps an arm around her waist, and uses his free hand to draw random shapes on her exposed stomach.

Y/N sleepily smiles as she realizes he's writing out 'I love you' at one point. "I love you too"

[starry-bi-sky]

for clone Danny, Clone Damian

I give you

Edit Clone Talia as somehow Girlfriend of Danny, just think of the comedy

nah brO BECAUSE LITERALLY I HAVE THOUGHT BOUT THAT. Literally since the conception of Clone Danny, I have thought about it. If only for, as you said, the COMEDY of it all. Plus I love writing romance.

Literally my motto for my aus is: A) is it plausible, B) is it FUNNY (and a secret third option C) is it ANGSTY)

Clone Talia would be an offshoot au of Clone^2 because idk how she'd fit into the original timeline, bUT, she'd exist. And to avoid confusion I'll call her Nasra - I thought about Tameka (which means twin) but I like Nasra better. "Talia and Nasra" just flows so nicely doesn't it?

Idk WHY there's a clone of Talia running around -- maybe the LoA made her, maybe n unknown organization who hates Batman and knows he has romantic ties to Talia, and started making a clone of her to fuck with him and then she got nabbed by a portal when she was still Danny's age and in the middle of training. She might be like Connor (??) and have memories and thus her training is more proficient than baby Dames.

Either way, regardless of how she was made, I think it's hilarious if she, much like baby Dames, immediately attacks Danny on sight. She falls into his city and Danny only has a moment to go "goddammit not agaIN" before he's fending off a very confused, very violent Nasra. Fortunately he's able to actually try and talk to her and be at least somewhat successful -- Nasra knows english. although even if she didn't, Danny would still be somewhat successful since he knows Arabic.

Also Bruce and Danny are the battinson bat because i think that is also hilarious and 'wet rat' is STILL the perfect energy for Danny as Phantom - especially in the early days when he's running around in all but jeans and a hoodie. (and god watch me go on a rant in a separate post about his outfit and reasonings for being Phantom when he has no powers later on because it makes me go FERAL. and his active choice to look as inhuman and ghost-like through his behavior as phantom and the decision to wear such a creepy mask as possible)

(like seriously, imagine walking home late at night while danny was still in his early vigilante days (and even now when he's got damian and a better suit) and seeing a skinny figure in the shadows with sunken in black-and-glowing-green eyes, and a bone white, skull-like face, crouched on all fours like a wild animal about to pounce. THAT is the level of creepiness I was going for for clone danny)

In my head, Sam offers to house Nasra and Nasra stays with her. SAm is able to convince her parents to let her stay, or she pulls a Danny and just straight up smuggles her in and her parents are none the wiser. I also think it's funny if they have unspoken BEEF with each other. Only to later become like sisters. Nasra teaches Sam the martial arts she knows, and also Danny joins in too with Damian because goddamn he needs it even IF he's learning stuff from his mom (as per the most recent snippet post I made).

OH AND DAMIAN AND NASRA. I think it's equally as funny if they ALSO have beef with each other. Nasra is a clone of his mother (of whom he might have complicated views on due to being a clone but still is his mother) and Damian is a clone of Nasra's "son". This beef largely starts from Damian's own refusal to want to share his Danny with another clone, especially with a clone of his MOTHER.

Danny and Nasra don't become lovers for a good, long while I think. They're besties first before they even consider the idea of dating -- not only just because of the whole "uhhh our counterparts dated so it'd feel kinda weird and forced if we dated" and also because Nasra, with her newfound freedom, is busy trying to figure out herself.

A big theme here in clone^2: discovering your identity and who you are as a person when the only thing you own that's unique is your name (which isn't even the case for Damian), and figuring out if your choices are your own or because you're a clone and its something your original would have done. Nature vs Nurture and the illusion of choice and whether it really is one or not.

Also Nasra also becomes a vigilante. Danny appreciates the help but is also tearing out his hair because what the fuck is up with these assassins and becoming vigilantes?! Nasra goes by "Nesha". She's similar to Red Huntress at first where she kinda does her own thing, but is lowkey forced to team up with Danny about it because she doesn't have any proper ghost hunting equipment with her.

And then a duo becomes a trio, and Danny is spending more time with her. And they steadily become friends. Very snarky friends who are very bratty to each other, but friends. Damian still doesn't like her so Danny spends extra time during patrol keeping the two of them from making insults at each other.

"Nesha please stop fighting with a nine year old. Wraith, quit insulting Nesha."

Nasra also uses like, weaponry as Nesha which exasperates Danny a little because why are you using swords??? They're already dead its not gonna kill them,,,, If you cut off their heads its just gonna piss em off, its re-attachable. Let him ghost-proof it first too. But well, its still gonna HURT he supposes. He's still a little exasperated.

And MMM i'm sorry lmao im so focused on Nasra becoming her own person than the actual romance aspect of it all. Nasra cuts her hair short for the same/similar reasons that Danny keeps his long - to try and gain a semblance of autonomy and identity that's away from their original. Danny has his alternative rock-kinda geeky look and Nasra's got, from influence from Sam, a more alternative fashion style. Although she still leans into being feminine, which is a good challenge to Sam's belief that feminity = bad, and gets her to unlearn those bad habits since her new adoptive sister is feminine while still being an unapologetic badass.

And ykw I think Nasra gets into rollerblading and loves it. She rollerblades constantly. Damian is furious because skating is his thing (even if what he gets later on is a skateboard - skater boy damian ftw. i can see him wearing flannels and graphic tees as a teenager. very grungy/skater aesthetic. He also has a much more relaxed and teen-y speech pattern compared to DW's more formal way of talking. He also spray paints as his form of artistic medium.) and he refuses to have Nasra be a copy of him.

They will sort out their differences eventually. LMao.

Anyways they eventually do get together, but not before Danny finally has his run in with Mister Wayne. Which, they only meet because Danny starts destabilizing, and thus needs Bruce Wayne's DNA to help stabilize himself. Which that meeting in and of itself is pretty chaotic on its own, but then add clone Damian and Nasra? Bruce needs coffee.. or alcohol.

Because picture this: its late at night, you're on patrol with the rest of your family. It's like, two in the morning. You suddenly get a call in from your butler, Alfred, informing you that not one, not two, but THREE children -- two of them in their late teens and the other one not even ten yet -- showed up on your doorstep. One of them is unconscious. They are all clones.

The girl and the boy are twins - and are clones of YOU - and the girl isn't even technically YOUR clone she's a clone of your clone - and also this clone of you is your college friends' kid. And then the youngest boy is a clone of your youngest SON. Bruce is running across rooftops when he gets this call and does a literal 180 degree turn and touches the ground because he basically did a figure skating turn, and sprints back towards the manor because what the fuck? He needs to check this out.

And then half a day later a clone of your fucking ex shows up on your doorstep demanding to see the clone of you - the boy that is, not the girl - and then immediately gets into a verbal lashing with the clone of your son. Like what a fucking DAY. Your kids are equally as baffled but also laughing their asses off -- except your bio son, who is very unhappy about this turn of events and keeps getting the stink eye from his clone.

Like??? I'd quit right then and there.

While Danny recovers he's staying in Wayne manor and Damian is very reportedly not leaving his side. Ellie has to leave to help take care of Amity Park with RH, and then Nasra is also very determinedly not leaving his side either. This is her friend dammit. The first thing she does when he becomes lucid is insult him, and he insults her back - they're bantering. It's how they flirt later on. None of the Bats know how to deal with this situation.

[chrollohearttags]

i feel like musician!eren would lose his mind if he found out his bestie thought cumming from head was a myth and show her what a REAL munch man is 🫣

no because can we talk about it? Sis would think he’s lying like always but we know his cocky ass would take pleasure in proving her wrong! 😭

“Eren, you fucking lying. That does not happen!”

“The hell I got to lie for, (y/n)? Just because you’ve never experienced the joys of it doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen.”

another day and argument ensuing between you and your homeboy, EJ. The two of you had been friends for some time now and it wasn’t rare for you to be spotted in the public eye but The rapper was currently seated behind the desk of his home studio as you sat in the chair next to him, attempting to convince you of something you just refused to buy into..your relationship was dysfunctional to say the least! Not so much in the sense of toxicity but you guys stayed making fun of each other for one reason or another or doing dumb shit. Today was a combination of the two and anyone from the outside looking in would never believe what you were at odds about.

“So you’re telling me that y’all can actually make girls come from head? Ain’t no way. I’ve never had a nigga make me do it.”

but as per usual, he wasn’t much for talking. He was the type to show you what he meant. Finally clicking off of the instrumental he was working on, he’d turn his chair towards you and fold his hands with a grin on his face. “That’s because you stay fucking these lames, mama. When’s the last time you even had a good nut? Where you weren’t faking it to not hurt dude’s feelings?” Poking his tongue into the corner of his cheek as he eyed you up and down, licking over his lips. He already knew the answer but he just loved the sight of seeing you squirm and try to justify it. But he couldn’t stand the thought of his beautiful bestie struggling sexually. So as the kind soul he was, he volunteered to help out. “Like I thought.” Declaring as he stood grasped the arm of your seat and pulled you closer, setting your legs on his lap, before rubbing them gently. Now it wasn’t the first time that you two had gotten physical but there wasn’t a reason you didn’t make a habit of it and that was because he was dangerous! There was no way you could fuck this man on the regular and not become attached or obsessed. So for your sanity, you kept your relationship as platonic as possible. However, he was in the mood to make you eat your words!..

“If you just wanted to know what it feels like, all you had to do was ask..” muttering as he sank to his knees and propped your calves onto his shoulders. “Open your legs, baby. I’ll give you what you’re looking for.” Reassuring you as he took his thumbs between the thin lining of your thong and tugged it aside. As he expected, you were leaking like a faucet at the thought of being licked and sucked to an orgasm. You had no idea what was in store but he wouldn’t leave your mind to wander too long..as he had already began to feel you up..placing gentle kisses on your thighs as he cradled your hips. You could feel the cool metal of his chain grazing your skin and his lips making contact with your wet little mound. The faint mumbles and breaths a clear indicator that he was going to enjoy this. Even so, he was going to have to make you a believer..

“EJ..are you sure about this? I mean, I think you just tryna to—ahh shit!”

“Yeah..what was that? Just lay back and be quiet. I promise when I’m done, imma have you leaking all over this floor.”

that same smug look on his face as he began to suckle and slurp on your clit; gently tugging at your pretty little plump pussy lips as he sank his face deeper. Engulfing his entire mouth around your dripping sex. Making certain that he was hitting all of your spots; spitting between those folds and fingering you simultaneously. Your clit was his first point of attack..focusing and honing in on stimulating it because any man with sense knew that’s where it all started. If he truly wanted to bring you to your peak, his pleasure would begin there. Gradually, he’d begin to pump those thick digits in and out whilst still suckling on your little bud. You hadn’t seen or heard him for a good solid three minutes with the exception of the top of his head and his faint grunts. Enjoying every drop your sweet essence on the tip of his tongue. He couldn’t believe that no man had ever made you come from eating you out, especially when this juicy pussy tasted so sweet. Personally, he could stay lost between your thighs forever and never grow tired. Suddenly, he’d feel the grasp you had on his hair tighten and knew that you were beginning to feel it. Also from the way you clenched around his knuckles..

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Finally lifting his head to reveal his jade hues eyes illuminated with excitement and the corners of his mouth stained with your delicious nectar. You couldn’t exactly respond, as you were too busy clutching the sides of the chair and shaking vehemently. Not only that, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right. However, the proof couldn’t be negated and he had almost succeeded in winning this debacle. But as always, he had to go the extra mile to be correct. Instead, he’d place his opposite palm into the center of your tummy and begin rapidly massaging those insides with his fingertips. “It’s okay, I got my answer, baby. Righttt—“ and before you had the chance to respond, you’d find yourself reaching the ultimate high. “Here.” Ascending into bliss as he brought you to ecstasy and tears. The evidence all over his chair, floor and face as promised. You had squirted everywhere and that was an understatement. Tossing a hand over your mouth, gasping to regain your breath. But Eren was quick to console you with a few kisses and and a brush to the side of your face.

“It’s okay. Felt good, didn’t it, baby?”

“Y-yeah!”

needless to say, you wouldn’t doubt him after that and if there was ever a time you found yourself questioning, he’d be more than happy to change your mind!

[foralternateuniverses]

One again pulling what I wrote on the discord server and putting it here:

Sora and Ivankov are friends (also Sora is trans) and so Ivankov helps Sora and her children escape Germa.

It's a surprise attack, it was supposed to be a secret quick in and out, but they needed to do STH to stop Judge from immediately going after them, so goodbye laboratories. Sora can barely stay up but she manages to get all her children before Ivankov finds her. They don't take them to Baltigo, they meet up at a meeting up first with Dragon.

However, their disguised ship ends up being attacked by Zeff's pirates, and it happens as canon, till they're rescued by Ivankon and they finally go meet Dragon and he's to suggest windmill village, so they take them there. (Zeff stays with them)

It doesn't take them long to meet Makino, she befriends Sora instantly and decides to help them out, Ivankov has treated the kids to try to undo what Judge did, but it obv won't go away that easily, they're a little lost on how to help them be normal-er but they're trying, and Sanji is flourishing as a cook with Zeff and Makino. Theres a lot of kicking on Zeff's part.

Finally, Makino decides that they should have some friends their age, and who better than Luffy and his brothers? So up the mountain they go, Zeff doesn't go with them but Sora does, she and Sanji baked some pastries as a gift.

ASL and 124 obv clash on sight, they end up brawling until Zeff arrives and kicks them all.

Sora decides to regularly go up the mountain, even tho she doesn't really have the strength to do so, but she insists it'll be good for her and her children, and she manages to become Dandan's bestie much to the other woman's chagrin.

ASL adore Sora, Ace specially practically imprinted like a baby duck, it awakens some jealousy in the quadruplets (that's *their* mom after all)

Their rivalry becomes more and more friendly with time.

When Sora ends up bedridden, ASL and Dadan end up going down the mountain to visit regularly

They're very shaken up by Sabo's "death", Yonji is with Dogra when looking for Sabo, meaning, he gets to see the explosion and be extra traumatised by Sabo's "death", later he'll realise Sabo was his first love

And then it'll turn out that Sabo ain't dead uwu

It's the first time they cry.

Sora ends up dying some time after that due to her illness, but time goes on, Ichiji leaves with Ace, then Niji and Yonji also go on their own, and Reiju waits until after Sanji leaves with Luffy

Ichiji is sticking to Ace's ass when he confronts White Beard and later when he goes to look for Teach, he pulls the "We always done everything together" which is technically incorrect but still works because Ace ain't leaving him behind after that

The Alabasta reunion is very cute, Ichiji internally judges Zoro; Luffy, Sanji and the others think Acechiji are already together (they aren't yet) and Sanji denies having any kind of attraction towards Zoro when Ichiji brings out the topic (also Sanji might had once a little crush on Ace, one which Ichiji noticed and won't forget and which might have stopped him from starting a relationship with Ace until Impeldown and Marineford, when he's forced to accept his feelings and maybe do STH about them. Ofc he's unable to hold back after Marineford, and so is Ace, and they end up together but Ichiji still feels guilty because he doesn't know that Sanji got over that years ago and is busy being together with Zoro (they get together after Thrillerbark) so he tries to hide it until Sanji finds out Ichiji apologizes and Sanji is like "what for? I'm happy for you".)

Ace on the other hand is forced by the confrontation with Teach，when his impulsiveness and no-backing-down thing almost cost him Ichiji, but they're both taken and later separated in Impeldown so he can't do much about it.

Ichiji sees Ace's silhouette forming between Akainu's punch and Luffy, he barely has any energy left, and some of his old wounds may have reopened, but he can't simply stand and watch, somehow, he manages to throw himself in Akainu's way, arms hugging both Luffy and Ace, dragging them together. Akainu's punch burns through his arm and onto Ace's back, thankfully, before Akainu can do more damage, Reiju and Sabo finally catch up to them and intervene and drag them away from Akainu's lava.

Ace passes out, his vivrecard keeps shrinking, Luffy is screaming, their siblings pick them up and run away now that they have cover, Ichiji barely manages to catch Ace's vivrecard.

ah yeah, I put Niji and Yonji with Law and Reiju with the revolutionaries, she drags Sabo to rescue Ace and Ichiji

[theold-ultraviolence]

Patch

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x reader

Summary: Aemond and you come across a one-eyed puppy at the farmer's market. // Words: 1k// A/N: Besties, this is just pure self-indulgent, tooth-rotting fluff. Listen, I know I have many wips, but it's been raining like crazy and I've had this soft scenario in my head for days. Hope this isn't too OC lol.

The light drizzle falling outside your window was the perfect excuse for you and Aemond to stay the whole Sunday in bed. Your partner was just too warm and comfy, with his long limbs tangled around you under the covers.   

Plus, he’d never been one to turn down an offer to stay in bed – being the major home-body that he is – which is why it’s beyond you, why he gets up from the bed and shakes you insistently, urging you to get dressed so you could carry on with your regular weekend plans of going down to the farmer’s market for breakfast.

He throws your coat on the bed while you sit there rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes, before reluctantly doing as he wishes.  

Although you couldn’t really complain, when the rain also gives you the chance stay close to him under the black umbrella that he holds in one hand, while his other is tightly linked with yours, walking through the endless booths and tents of the market.

He’d gotten you parfaits with fruit before indulging in a couple of croissants that were all the right kinds of buttery and fluffy, with hot drinks to warm up from the cold weather. 

Whatever resistance you’d had completely washed away, much like the dirt on the cobblestone paths thanks to the rain that was now beginning to subside. 

With your full bellies and content hearts, you keep wandering around, arm in arm, when suddenly something makes Aemond halt in his step. 

First thing you register is a bout of barking, turning to find a puppy biting Aemond’s ankle before standing on his hind legs to rest paw at Aemond’s pants.

The puppy barks and barks and jumps like an unstoppable ball of energy all over Aemond, making him all flustered and frozen for the sudden attention – before he kneels down, chuckling as the puppy immediately attacks Aemond’s face with kisses. 

An old man sitting on the sidewalk laughs at the sight; he’s in a heavy raincoat, sitting with a cardboard box of puppies by his side.

“This is the first time he’s ever run up to someone!” He calls to you both with a gruff voice. “He normally recoils from strangers and is so quiet. I’ve never seen that little fella this excited.” 

Aemond chuckles while trying not to fall back from how aggressive the puppy is with his affections – he scoops his small body up in his arms and rocks him as if he was a little baby – and that’s when he notices.

His heart sinks at the sight of the puppy’s missing eye – the same one that Aemond lacked, and that he covered with an eyepatch.    

You realize just a second later, heart forming a tight fist within your chest.

The puppy’s got the face of a little angel, looking up at Aemond as if he was his whole world, with his big, glistening black eye and his tongue out. His fur is short, but so soft looking and a little bit curly, and is the color of salt and pepper – race unknown. 

 “What happened to him?” You ask the man, as you kneel beside Aemond and the pup. 

“I found him and the rest of the pups abandoned in an alley. It was his crying that got my attention in the first place. I took him and his siblings to the vet but it was too late for the little one. The rest are a lively group but him – he’s always been really quiet. Doesn’t like playing with the rest and gets anxious around strangers.” 

A hopeful smile rises in the man’s lips when he sees just how loving the puppy is being with Aemond. 

Aemond merely smirks back shyly, before looking back down at the tiny baby in his arms, who’s paws were wiggling up in the air as if he was running, with his tongue out as if he was grinning with glee from Aemond scratching his tummy.

“Yes, I think I can relate to this one.” He murmurs a little brokenly, but only you can hear the change of pitch in his tone. 

When he’d confided the story of his own missing eye to you, you’d embraced him tightly, and had carefully kissed the scar that now traversed his left cheek.

All his life he’d been heavily bullied by his own family. His brother and cousins teased him about an array of mindless things that you could never comprehend, and at last, when he got the courage to defend himself, he’d been hurt. Pushed down to the gravel by his young nephew Luke, face landing right on a spiky rock as he fell. 

It’s part of the reason why he’s so quiet and reserved. Why his trust isn't given easily.

When you’d first met him in college  – you’d been instantly attracted to him, no doubt, but you couldn’t deny how intimidating he was. Soon you realized that he was simply desperate for affection, without a clue as to how to ask for it, or give it. But with consistency, time, a lot of patience and even more love and devotion, you’d found out just what an enormous heart Aemond had locked away within him, and you considered yourself immensely fortunate to be the one to care for it. 

With an arm around Aemond, you ask the man “Are they up for adoption?” to which he nods. “How much for him?” 

The owner shakes his head, brows furrowing earnestly as he looks up at the young pup, “Nothing at all. I just ask that he gets taken care of properly, gets his shots at the vet and goes to a loving home. I’d love to be sent photos to see how the little one is doing.” 

He gazes at the three of you with nothing but heartfelt gratitude pouring from his eyes, as he stands up to go kneel beside Aemond, and give the puppy one final pet. 

“Does he have a name?” Aemond asks – smiling as the pup clings to his shoulders, vigorously licking his cheeks and neck and nose, every lasting inch of Aemond’s face that he can reach. 

“Nah, not yet. But I call him Patch because of the little tuft of black hair that he has on the spot of his missing eye. Looks like an eye-patch.”

The three of you chuckle, and Aemond leans back to look at his new son, with his thumbs caressing the puppy’s cheeks and ears lovingly.  

“Patch.” Aemond softly repeats to himself, testing the name on his tongue and making the puppy bark enthusiastically. 

“You think he’ll get along with Vaghar?” You ask, referring to Aemond’s great dane. An old lady that had been with him ever since his accident – who’d been his one and only friend until you came into the picture. 

Aemond's face illuminates with a smile so big and bright like you’d never seen before on – the kind of smile that reveals those handsome dimples on his face that are otherwise hidden. “She was the only one to comfort me back then, I don’t think she’ll have a problem with Patch. After all, this little one and I are alike in many ways, it would seem.” 

The sound of Aemond’s laughter is one you want to keep forever, as he stands up, bringing Patch up in his arms and giving him a kiss on his delicate head. 

You thank the man on behalf of the two of you, then exchange phone numbers to keep in touch and send him updates on the puppy. 

Later that night, when the three of you are cuddled up in bed watching a movie whilst Vaghar slept in her own bed downstairs, you realized that maybe this was fated all along. You were meant to carry out your Sunday plans, regardless of a little rain. 

For Aemond was meant to cross paths with a little angel of his own, in the form of a loving puppy to keep softening up all of his hard edges. 

And rainy days, from now on, it wouldn't ever be gray and daunting as long as you had your very own patch of sunshine to keep you company.

[siilvan]

bloodsport – III

prologue | part one | part two | next

characters: vladimir makarov

summary: after a successful escape, you try to convince yourself that the prison and makarov are behind you. things just never seem to go to plan, though.

genre: angst, slowburn, enemies to ?, fem!reader (callsign: petra, no desc.)

warnings: not proofread, cursing, canon-typical violence, poorly written combat, allusions to trauma and stress, mentions of typical murderous behavior from makarov (∶__∶), OG mak's backstory bc we don't know shit about the reboot lol

word count: 5.9k

note: my birthday's on the 3rd, so pls take this as a gift from me to you :) the support on this series has also been insane 😭 you guys are so sweet!! <33

also big shoutout to @roosterr bc i completely copied the way she writes texts in fics LMAO i hope it's okay with you bestie ilysm

"anyone else would be dead already."

what the hell does that mean?

you're lying on your back, absently staring up at the ceiling, those words replaying in your mind over and over again. yet another week has passed since "the incident," as the guards in the corridor so kindly put it.

clearly makarov had given his men a new order after you killed the younger doctor. not only did they avoid touching you, but they hardly even looked in your direction outside of required monitoring. doctor tarkovsky was singlehandedly providing your medical care, as well. the next time you saw the doctor - the morning after the incident - proved to be an interesting experience. while treating you, he made a comment about "the commander seeming angry."

you add it to your ever-growing list of questions.

blaring alarms interrupt your somewhat peaceful pondering. you shoot up, instinctively reaching for your belt to grab your gun, only to be reminded that you're unarmed. the guards in the hall are shouting at each other, appearing just as surprised as you are.

carefully, you rise from the bed and cross the room, trying to listen to what they're saying. if there was one benefit to your captivity, it was the small bit of russian that you've picked up on. amongst the frantic chatter, you can make out a few words:

attack. small team. breached. combat. prisoner.

your chest tightens as you step back from the door. the base is under attack, and whomever is leading the charge is enough of a threat to raise the alarms. a small team could never hope to contend with an entire ultranationalist stronghold, though. there's only one man, one team, that could succeed despite being so heavily outnumbered.

the one-four-one.

it has to be them. they're the only ones bold enough to stage an attack, and the only ones capable of pulling it off.

even if it's someone else, they're your ally now, and your only hope of making it out of here alive.

you can see the guards scrambling outside your cell, frantically following whatever orders were being barked at them through their radios. for now, they seem to disregard your presence in favor of organizing their forces to combat the threat, but you know it won't last. contrary to the size of the prison, you're the only captive being held here; any mention of "prisoner" is referring to you.

the area quiets down as most of the men rush to aid their fellow soldiers, leaving only the alarm to keep you company. you mentally curse as you consider your very limited options. without a set of keys to escape this cell, you're stuck here.

a purposeful set of footsteps rapidly approaching makes the decision for you. quickly, you dive just out of sight of the door, pressing your back to the wall. the person stops just outside and grumbles to himself as you hear the sound of keys jingling in the lock. the iron door swings open, and you bite down on your bottom lip to keep quiet as he stares into the empty space, confusion evident in the grunt that leaves him.

a second passes before he steps into the room, scanning the far side of it. your eyes fall to the knife on his belt, easily removable if you're fast enough, and you dive for it before he can turn around.

you tear the blade from its sheath and swiftly plunge it into the side of his neck, ripping a strangled cry from the soldier as he reacts too slowly to save himself. you pull him to the ground and lay his body flat, releasing a sharp breath once you confirm the kill. temporary relief floods your system, hastening your movements as you collect as much of his gear as you can.

immediately after you secure the last strap of the armor vest, you hear voices calling out from somewhere close by. searching for the guy you just killed, you assume. with one final gear check, you move to the same spot against the wall and wait for the group to get closer.

the first of the bunch steps into the room and freezes at the sight of the other man, and you take the opportunity to drop him with the rifle you had collected. the remaining members, two or three men, are quick to respond once the gunshots ring out. you peek around the corner as they rush forward with their guns drawn, electing to start the gunfight yourself.

you manage to shoot one down before the others notice you. a bullet whizzes past your head as you aim down the barrel and shoot another, forcing you to duck back into cover.

"you're cornered. come out and i'll let you live." the final soldier says, frustration lacing his command. you sit still, lying in wait until his impatience overpowers his better judgement. a tense silence fills the air between you, only broken by the soldier groaning and coming to you instead.

he circles the corner, weapon at the ready, but scans the room in too wide an arc. you finish him off and peek out into the hall again, finding it completely vacant.

the radios on the soldiers bodies suddenly come to life, and you hear a familiar voice on the other end. you pick one of them up and attempt to decipher the question to no avail. however, there is one word that you understand. prisoner.

"you should've sent a bigger group," you speak into the radio, feeling your lips twitch into a smile at the way makarov stops short.

he merely chuckles, though, and the smile drops. "you continue to impress me, lieutenant. let's see if you can escape." he replies, relaxed as ever. he switches channels, and the radio goes silent.

you travel down the path you took the first day, when makarov was accompanying you. there's little resistance beyond a few stragglers that you dispatch with ease. most of the forces are focused on the invaders, too busy to properly deal with you as you attack from behind. the number of enemies ahead of you increases the further you go - a sign that you're heading in the right direction.

eventually, you reach an exterior door and push it open.

to say the situation is chaotic would be an understatement. soldiers are hurrying across fields, arming themselves and their allies, shouting out various commands and information. you duck low and stick to the shadows, doing your best to avoid a firefight now that the enemy solidly has the advantage.

you make some distance and perk up at the sounds of gunfire. you've stumbled across the main battle. with a renewed sense of hope to push you forward, you go towards it, ending up crouched next to an APC as you search through the chaos for any friendly faces.

one of the nearby vehicles erupts into flames moments later, catching you off-guard and stealing your attention from the fight. scrambling to your feet, you stiffen as something smooth and cold is pressed against the back of your skull. the barrel of a gun. you raise your hands in surrender and pray that the person holding the weapon can be reasoned with.

"wait," a deep voice, husky and all too familiar, speaks from behind you. "petra? 's that you?" the man, captain price, lowers his gun, allowing you to spin around and look at him.

you're almost ready to shed tears upon seeing his face, equal parts concern and relief etched into his hard expression. he grabs ahold of your shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze as you nod, silently answering his question. a dark figure emerges from behind one of the vehicles at price's back and catches your eye.

the stark white skull mask instantly gives away his identity: ghost. he stops at your side, eyes crinkling behind the mask, and you can tell that he's giving you a happy look.

your eyes leave the pair and scan the area, hunting for the last two members of the team. there's no movement aside from the fighting and chaos in the distance. your gaze flits back to price as a lump begins to form in your throat and every scenario that you've cooked up during your captivity floods into your mind.

"where's soap and gaz?" you ask, voice sounding meek compared to the way you spoke earlier. price, clearly sensing the deeper meaning behind your words, pats your shoulder in a comforting gesture before withdrawing his hand.

"they're here, no need to worry," he starts, motioning for you to follow him. "the sergeants are protecting our backsides, making sure the chopper has a clear path. we're gonna meet 'em at the southside of the prison and exfil from there."

you fall in line with the two, muscle memory all but taking over as you repeat your prior strategy; keep to the shadows and only engage the enemy if absolutely necessary. the location that price described isn't terribly far and shouldn't be difficult to reach, so long as you don't get caught up in too many fights.

ghost contacts the sergeants as you move, updating them on your position. you learn through the conversation that the team came for you, and only you - makarov isn't a concern of theirs, even once you inform price of his presence. we'll slot the bastard once you're back on your feet, he says.

"we're gettin' close, it's just up here." ghost mutters lowly. you tighten your grip on your gun, anticipation steadily building inside of you the closer you get to the rendezvous point. you're this close to freedom, this close to putting this hellish place in the past and reuniting with your team. al-mazrah, the missile, your capture, makarov– all of them would sequester themselves to nothing more than memories.

a black hawk flies overhead before touching down at the designated spot. one of the back doors swing open just as it lands, revealing gaz's smiling face. he steps aside to allow the three of you to board, giving you an eager side-hug as you shuffle past him.

"petra, happy to see you in one piece!" soap's exclamation startles you as much as it overjoys you to hear, and you're suddenly swept up into a bone-crushing hug by the scotsman upon passing gaz.

"soap–! johnny, you're squeezing me too hard–!" you gasp out, still attempting to hug the man back despite your bones being turned to mush from the pressure. he releases you almost as quickly as he scooped you up and mutters an apology. said apology barely registers in your head due to the sight he greets you with, though.

there's a nasty scar over his left eye, jagged and obviously still in the process of healing. soap hardly seems to care about it, instead grinning at you like you were revived from the dead. you tap the area below your own eye to signal to him, brows furrowing in confusion. his hand mirrors your action and his face lights up, an audible "oh" falling from his lips.

"got it in al-mazrah," he says, waving off your worried look. "makes me look pretty cool, right?" he adds with a glance around the cabin, earning an affirmative hum from price and a shrug from ghost.

gaz snorts, slumping down on one of the seats and giving him a thumbs-up. "looks wicked, mate."

you collapse into another seat with a breezy laugh. "i'm just thankful that you're alive, all of you. i was starting to doubt whether you'd come." you confess, sharing a somber look with the rest of them.

ghost breaks the mood with a shake of his head. "'course we came. we're a team, no man left behind." he keeps his gaze locked on you as he talks, bringing an appreciative smile to your lips. your attention shifts to the window at your side, watching the stronghold fade away as the helicopter lifts off the ground and departs. you refuse to tear your eyes away until it disappears over the horizon, allowing you to take a deep breath for the first time in weeks.

⋆⋆⋆

upon arriving in safe territory, you're almost instantly pulled into a brief, but strong hug by laswell, who was waiting on the airstrip as the team landed. you're ushered into the base's medical wing by her and price for a proper checkup, which, thankfully, goes by swiftly. you've had enough of doctors and medicine to last you a lifetime.

"you're sending me home?" you ask, practically jumping up from the examination table you were sitting on. your gaze darts back and forth between price and laswell, irritation boiling under your skin as they try to placate you.

"y'need to rest, petra. you've just been through two weeks of hell." price responds, putting his hand on your shoulder and urging you to sit back down. you shrug it off and shake your head.

"captain, i was given a clean bill of health!" you argue while waving your arms in front of yourself. your wounds from the missile had mostly healed, reduced to minor marks on your skin and a raised scar on your side that was gradually fading. "i just want to get back in the field– i've been out of commission for weeks!"

laswell steps toward you, meeting your gaze with a sympathetic look. "it's protocol, lieutenant. you may be fine enough to work for now, but we can't put you or the team at risk." she counters, crossing her arms over her chest. "you need to recover." she adds a second later, earning a frustrated huff from you.

you know you'd be saying the same thing in their position. if it was price, ghost, soap, gaz– if any of them were captured, you'd be forcing them to take time off, too. you can't shake everything that's happened, though. you don't have much to show in the way of torture-related injuries, but the isolation alone was enough to make your head spin. you never felt safe, always waiting and anticipating makarov's next move. the longer you went without seeing or hearing about him, the more your suspicions grew.

a break would give you the chance to collect your thoughts and break yourself out of the doubt that's been stewing in your head ever since that first meeting. in the field, you need to be confident and decisive. there's no room for hesitation and self-doubt.

"we'll keep you updated," price starts, regarding you with a reassuring smile. "and, this won't be forever. just long enough for you to get your head on straight, yeah?"

you deliberate on it, eyes falling to the floor, and nod slowly. he's right. you're not reliable in this state.

"okay." you concede, focus shifting back to the two.

you're heading out again by the evening, saying your goodbyes to the squad on the very same airstrip that you landed on earlier in the day. soap nearly crushes you in another hug, forcing price to yank him off before you suffocate, gaz reminds you about ten different times to call if you need anything, and ghost runs down a lengthy list of relaxation techniques whilst loading your bags in the helicopter.

it's nigh-impossible to be upset about the situation when it's made clear that they don't want you to go, either. after two weeks of constant stress, everyone just wants to be together again.

you get so caught up in your impromptu partings that you fail to notice the unidentified soldier watching you from across the field. even the ever-attentive captain price misses the soldier dialing a number on his phone, his eyes narrowing as the chopper lifts off with you inside.

⋆⋆⋆

you step foot in your flat well after the sun's gone down. it's silent, save for the soft padding of your socks against the floor after you kick off your boots. your bags are abandoned at the end of your bed, something you'll unpack later, and you shed your jacket before tossing it on top of the pile.

makarov... what's his story?

with a low sigh, you rub at your tired eyes with the heels of your palms and try to erase the question that's been plaguing you for longer than you'd like to admit. between laswell's intel and the stories price has told, you can paint a picture of who the man is.

a person ruled by his ambition, you've determined. while price's stories were more focused on his own experiences with makarov and his allies, what laswell provided was concrete: he massacred civilians like it was nothing. what could possibly drive a man to that point?

the trip back home proved fruitless, with most results online simply listing information deemed "safe" for the public. you need to know more about him - you need a source that isn't going to sugarcoat or hide the ugly truth. most importantly, you need someone who can get you personal details.

you fish your phone out of your pocket and scroll through your contacts list. laswell is an option, but she's not likely to give you anything while you're supposed to be taking time off work.

a name - or rather, a codename - pops up in the list. your thumb hovers over the contact, debating on whether or not to call.

you give in and click the "call" button after a moment's consideration. the line rings until a cheerful voice greets you.

"ah, lieutenant!" nikolai beams, sounding far too energized at this hour. "price told me about the successful prison break, congrats on surviving the ultranationalists."

"thanks, nik." you chuckle at his enthusiasm. "is there any chance i could ask you for a favor? i need information, stuff that i think only you can get." you nervously shift your weight while asking the question, worried that you might be hitting a dead end.

"information? about what?"

"makarov."

nikolai goes quiet, and you think he's going to deny your request. but, just as you open your mouth to justify it, he speaks.

"you want private informaton, yes?" he mutters, causing you to let out a deep breath. "price hasn't told you everything, and you want to research the man that captured you. that is to be expected."

"give me a little time, i'll send you whatever i can find." he continues. you can hear typing in the background after, signaling that he was following through with it. you tell him goodbye with a small "thanks" and hang up, an immense weight lifting off your fatigued shoulders.

a hot shower would be nice right now. you haven't had one in weeks, and nikolai said that gathering everything would take a while. you might as well use the break instead of sitting around and twiddling your thumbs while waiting for him.

you trudge to the bathroom and turn the water on, stripping out of your clothes and leaving your phone on the counter. you hop in the shower and feel your aching muscles relax as soon as the warm water washes over them, soothing weeks of pain and discomfort. when you get out and wrap a towel around yourself, you finally feel relatively at ease for the first time since your escape.

your phone buzzes from nearby, and you blink at the screen after picking it up. a message from nikolai stares back at you.

sent what i have, hope it helps 22:43 pm

thanks, appreciate it! 22:43 pm

i'll let you know if i find anything else 22:44 pm

you quickly dry off and get dressed in more comfortable clothes, grabbing your laptop as you stroll into the living room and get settled on the couch. it only takes a couple minutes to access the files that nikolai sent, and upon seeing a page of folders to look through, you're left shocked at the sheer amount of information he gave.

it's overwhelming, just how much makarov has done in his career - if you can even call international terrorism a "career." you decide to begin at the top of the list, shaking off the uneasy feeling that settles in the pit of your stomach.

the contents of the folder go from typical, almost expected, crimes from someone like him, to acts that make you understand why price is wary of him. you sift through each file, studying the contents as if you're going to be quizzed on them, each word acting as another nail ripped out of your coffin.

the list of crimes seems endless. kidnapping, torture, trafficking, bombings, assassinations, mass murder... not only are you lucky to be uninjured, you're lucky to be alive. the privilege of being a "special" target, you presume. if not for your position in the task force, you'd be lying dead in a ditch or tortured to the brink of insanity. your stomach churns at the thought.

eventually, you reach a folder named "personal." it lives up to its name, as when you access it, the files are all details about the man himself. some of the basic information is known to you already, but most of it is entirely new - stuff you're sure was intentionally hidden away from curious eyes.

what you can find of his life before he began his reign of terror both answers your questions and adds more to the list. he was a paratrooper, a captain in the spetsnaz, regarded as a master in the field despite the list of complaints on his file. many of the men under his command considered him a natural leader; charismatic, cunning, but harsh in his methods. he received several comments from the higher-ups about his alarming behaviors, but it all came to a head when he was investigated for war crimes. he left the military to avoid the charges.

somehow, the crimes that got him discharged seem mild compared to what he's done since. you can't wrap your brain around why makarov treated you so... kindly, given everything you've read. he should have ended your life or made it a living hell, but instead, you got regular medical treatment, decent conditions, and mostly left alone during your imprisonment.

you sit back from the screen, sluggishly running a hand down your face. makarov didn't fight to keep you captured. if anything, he was happy to let you escape. it doesn't make sense. he went through the effort of capturing you alive and gained nothing from it. for a man that favors the zero-sum game, he's not playing it well.

unless this is his gain. getting in your head, confusing you, forcing you to think about him when you should be focusing on recovering. he's bogging you down, preventing you from being reliable for your teammates.

or, maybe you're looking into things too deeply. overestimating just how clever one man can be.

your phone buzzes from its spot on the cushion, and you blink at the bright screen, squinting to read the notification. it's a text message from an unknown number. a few different people flash through your mind, potential allies that could have changed their numbers recently, but no one stands out. you exhale and click the notification to open up the message fully.

feeling well? 12:35 am

you stare at the message for a minute. it can’t be price or any of the boys, you already have their phone numbers. you highly doubt that laswell changed hers without updating you, and nikolai probably hasn’t change his in the two hours since your last conversation. just as you go to type a response, two more messages pop up.

recovering at home is preferable, isn't it? 12:36 am

much more comfortable than a medical wing. 12:36 am

who is this? 12:37 am

take a guess - m 12:37 am

a chill creeps up your spine as the realization dawns on you. it's makarov; not only does he have your phone number, but he knows you're not at base. he's managed to track your location in less than six hours.

you drop your phone on the coffee table and shoot a wary glance around the room before checking to make sure your front door is locked. once you're sure of it, you start to pace around the room, wringing your hands together. the smart decision would be to call someone - price, laswell, one of the boys, someone that can get here quickly or send a person in their place.

you're not defenseless by any means, but there's no telling what makarov knows. he could be halfway across the world or in the very same city, and you have no way of finding out without putting yourself at risk. you may have gotten lucky in al-mazrah, but you can't rely on luck.

your phone lights up again, and from your position a few feet away, you can just barely make out what the screen says.

let's talk, lieutenant. 12:40 am

no fucking way. you're not entertaining the madman that you just escaped.

you need to get out; take a walk, clear your head. makarov knows where you are, but that doesn't mean he's actually here. for all you know, it could be a lucky guess. you throw on a jacket and slip on a pair of shoes before shoving your phone in your pocket, hastily stumbling out the door. the crisp night air hits you the second you step out, making you draw your jacket tighter around yourself as you start down the sidewalk.

your brisk - practically panicked - walk does little to calm your nerves initially. you have to force yourself to slow down, strolling along at a more leisurely pace. after a couple minutes, your shoulders droop and the panic begins to dissipate.

the late hour means that you're the only person out right now. all you have for company is the occasional breeze that sweeps past, and you think that you prefer it this way.

until your phone buzzes. you stop dead in your tracks and pick it up, letting out a relieved breath at soap's name flashing on the screen. you answer the call with an easy smile.

"hey! i didn't expect you to pick up," soap laughs on the other end. "realized how late it was after dialin' your number." he adds, pulling a chuckle from you.

"haven't been able to sleep, so i figured i'd take a walk." you shrug, as if he can see you.

"ah, figured you'd pass out the second you landed." he concedes while you absentmindedly toe at the ground, eyeing your surroundings. "just wanted to check in– make sure everything is going okay with you."

for a moment, you debate on mentioning the messages from makarov. logically, it's the right thing to do; your team needs to know about any potential threats. however, there's a little part of you that hesitates to say anything. you feel the urge to keep it a secret, to wait and see what happens. makarov's given you useful intel before, maybe you can get more out of him.

"yeah, i'm doing all right," you mutter, reassuring soap. "just want to get back to work as soon as i can. i miss you guys."

soap gives you an appreciative hum. "y'just gotta heal up quick, l.t.! we're all missing you here. ghost and price are meaner than you are."

"they're not 'mean,' they just don't tolerate as much nonsense from you and gaz as i do." you counter with a playful laugh, pulling a groan from soap.

"it's not nonsense, it's– what?" soap suddenly stops talking, and you hear a voice in the background of the call. he says something to the person before exhaling dramatically and speaking into the phone again. "sorry 'bout that, it was price. apparently we've got somethin' to handle– a wrecked shadow company transport, i think. i'll send a message after we're done, yeah?"

you wave your hand while talking, again, as if he can see you. "don't worry about it, just stay safe out there. let me know how it goes."

the two of you exchange quick goodbyes and you end the call with a smile still plastered on your face. your brows furrow as you immediately receive another call, though. the number that flashes across the screen makes you grip the phone tighter, your knuckles turning white from the strain.

makarov, of course. you decline the call with an irritated sigh and spin on your heel, heading back to your apartment. another one comes through seconds later, which you choose to simply ignore this time. you speed up the short walk to your front door and slam it closed behind you, locking it just as quickly.

"you are surprisingly difficult to get ahold of, petra."

you whip around and press your back to the door, locking eyes with the man you tried so desperately to avoid. makarov stands in the middle of the room, a smug grin on his face, his arms loosely crossed over his chest as he stares you down.

"how the hell did you find me so fast?" you sneer at him, hand tightening around the set of keys in your palm. he's wearing a thick vest and armor plates - they won't save you, but the keys might buy you enough time to reach the gun in your bedroom.

"i have my ways," he tilts his head to the side, moving to lean against the back of your couch. "i needed to speak with you, and you weren't answering the phone. this was my only option."

you scoff at the claim, briefly loosening your grip. "no, you also have the option of leaving me alone." you argue, stepping further into the room. "besides killing you, we don't have any business to discuss."

"is that so?" makarov chuckles, glancing over his shoulder. you follow his gaze and land on your laptop. it's turned on again, with one of the pages detailing his personal history displayed on the screen. "you'll be very interested in what i have to say, lieutenant."

you bite your tongue, shifting your weight and dragging your focus back to him. "fine. tell me, then."

makarov straightens, his gaze flitting back to you. the edges of the keys dig into the skin of your palm, the bite of the cold metal keeping you grounded as he stalks toward you, like a predator approaching a prey animal. those alarm bells start going off in your head again, every instinct screaming at you to preemptively strike or run.

when he's a few feet away, you lunge. jabbing your keys forward, you try to hit one of the weak spots of his vest, aiming for the one of the gaps near the straps.

the training he underwent years ago is made readily apparent as makarov easily grabs your wrist and twists it, disarming you in one smooth motion. you try to use your other hand to break free, only to end up with both hands in his iron grip. you're spun around and shoved against the wall with your hands behind your back, trapped between your bodies.

you struggle, but that only encourages him to tighten his grip, firmly pinning your hands. he presses forward, using his own body weight to prevent you from fighting him off.

"you're predictable, petra," he mutters, the comment making you thrash against him. "you can't see past yourself– i am freely offering you information that your allies would die to gather themselves. take advantage of this generosity."

"i hate you," you seethe, writhing and trying to break free of his hold. he doesn't budge even a little, chuckling softly next to your ear as he leans in closer.

"good. i like that." makarov murmurs, his voice low and controlled, warm breath fanning over your skin. heat floods through your veins when he speaks, which you attribute to anger towards him.

until he nudges you again, his upper body falling almost perfectly in line with the curve of your back, his hands loosening slightly and providing your red-marked wrists with some relief. it just now occurs to you how close he is, the steady rise and fall of his chest against your spine forcing your own staggering breathing to calm itself and match his. his cropped hair tickles the side of your ear as he hovers next to you, his side profile visible in the edge of your vision.

you bite your tongue again, though for a different reason than earlier. holding any feelings but hatred and contempt for your enemy - you might as well mark yourself as a traitor if that happens. you can't allow yourself to fall for the games that he's definitely playing with you. the task force needs you, and they need whatever intel makarov can provide you with right now.

"i can be civil," you concede, barely above a whisper. "i won't attack if you don't." you add a moment later, pursing your lips.

you can see the edge of his lips twitch from the corner of your eye. makarov releases your wrists after a beat and steps back, giving you enough space to turn around and face him, pressing your back flat against the wall.

"do you trust the commander of shadow company?" he asks, bluntly. you narrow your gaze, huffing at the thought.

"graves? not by a longshot. i can trust him enough to shoot your guys before he shoots me, but that's it." you reply in an equally blunt tone.

"do you believe he is attached to the general's plans?" he says, and you deliberate before shaking your head. it wouldn't make sense, given graves' recent allyship with urzikstan. makarov continues, appearing satisfied with your answer. "you're correct. the shadow is not aware of shepherd's plans any more than your team is."

"how does this help me?"

"you will need him to cooperate in order to take down general shepherd," makarov asserts. you tilt your head curiously, urging him to elaborate. "which means, unfortunately, that you will have to work with him. my men can handle the general's lap dogs, but commander graves is the only person that can locate the general himself."

of course. your catalogue of enemies that you have no choice but to work with just keeps expanding.

"i see." you mumble, fingers twitching at the prospect of working with graves. tolerating his soldiers is one issue, but the commander is a whole other ballpark. "i still don't understand– why are you giving me all of this?"

makarov finally tears his gaze from yours for the first time since you separated. he walks over to the front door, right next to your spot against the wall, and unlocks it with a small twist of the lock. he turns toward you, though his eyes do not lift to yours again.

"the enemy of my enemy is my friend," he utters, swinging the door open. "we'll be in touch. do not ignore me next time i contact you."

you nearly miss his eyes flicking up to your face, the action so short that it feels like a trick of the light. he walks out of your apartment, closing the door behind him with a soft thud, stopping you from watching him as he disappears into the night. you don't think you want to know where he goes, but one thing that you can say for certain is that it won't be the last you see of him.

you'll be seeing him even sooner than you can imagine.

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