#progress is slow on the 'find his dad' front

[corvidscreams]

Continuing from this thought, little Boba would find himself at the local saloon and promptly abducted befriended by the only other child in town. They would have much to bond about, like learning fun new plant facts and sharing stories about growing up in a military base with a single parent who would fly away to distant parts of the galaxy for weeks or months at a time with little warning and limited contact :)

[wonryllis]

the hot dad next door (m) | park sunghoon.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂?

preview. the ever quintessential first time dad moves in next door with his five year old and finds it impossible not to fall for you, the pretty girl who gives his daughter cookies and him; the doll eyes. obsessed with your entire being, unable to keep his hands off you, park sunghoon questions if he's just crazy or he's crazy over you.

or where, he notices the way you look at his hands a little too long for it to be innocent.

meet the cast. single dad!park sunghoon with his pretty neighbour fem!reader.

genre. DILFF AUU !!, SMUT MDNI, fluff, neighbours to lovers, sunghoon is quite literally yes insanely crazed over you and for the sake of god can't keep his dick soft, domestic a little bit i guess, i want to make her my wife trope EEEKKK, slight age gap (hoon in late twenties and reader in early twenties) more to be added.

word count. est around 20k or more

warnings. inaccuracies about parenting cause i aint a parent, i got no idea. more will be mentioned in the actual post.

releasing. very soon!! .. progress update tag

park sunghoon was hot, he was a walking greek god. was single and wore these fitted suits that had you weak in the knees. if that wasn't hot enough, park sunghoon also had the cutest baby girl you had ever come across and it just made him hotter than he could ever have been.

"hey, um .. is ji—" sunghoon stands at the threshold of your open apartment door, one hand holding his creased blazer and the other rubbing at the back of his neck. embarrassed and shy at having to show up at yours looking like a mess after work because his daughter ran off while he was busy on a call and taking out her school bag from the backseat. and because everytime his daughter ran off, it was to the pretty girl next door who gives away sweet cookies all the time.

"is jia here? yeah she's in the kitchen," you answer, smiling soft and knowingly at the worried guy who barely looked like a dad. he worked in a corporate editorial, out before eight in the morning just as you prepared ingredients for your bakery. taking his daughter along to school, her excited voice resonating through the halls talking about how they were going to play with clay in class. around seven in the evening you'd hear her again, this time alone as she would skip over to your door because dada was too slow.

on weekends it'd be impossible to ignore the ruckus they made playing around, sometimes inviting you over for lunch because sunghoon apparently made too much and jia wanted to share her dada's delicious food. on some occasional weekends when he'd be called in to work for a few hours, jia would promise him to stay home and behave only to call you through the landline the moment he'd step out the door. and you would text sunghoon to come over to yours after work, his daughter munching on the new flavored cupcakes you made, unbothered about her dad and his scoldings.

"come on in, i made some almond lime tart, you could give me some feedbacks along with jia. you know she always says it's good and i can never know if it's actually good," sunghoon can't help but chuckle at that, slipping off his shoes by the front and walking inside. his eyes following your figure with a fond look as you tend to his daughter delicately, and might he admit— even more so than him.

you're sweet, you know how to handle kids; cue that one time jia was crying her eyes out after school and he had no idea what to do to comfort her, knocking at your door frantically and having his mind blown at how quickly you figured things out and calmed her down.

you're sweet, you know how to handle kids, you treat them both so well, always ready to help him out with jia, giving them sweet treats every other day and most of all— you're fucking pretty. way too pretty for him to handle.

FIRST TAGLIST (open.) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @aaa-sia @niniissus @tobiosbbyghorl @imjakes-wifeofc1 @youresolivlie @eun-cherry @kimsunoops @aiden2001 @brownsugarbaybee @pockettwinzz @bangtancultsposts @diorikis @heelvsted @crimnalseung @iselltulips @yzzyhee @woniebae @river-demon-slayer @lovingvoidgoatee @antonsgirlfriend @kpopslover @bugcattie @slut4hee @yunjinswifee @woniefull @nanaheex @soobs-things @dammit-jjk @starlvcieszsq @mnxnii @skylaly @mintdsunoo @uyuchoco @anittamaxwynnn @rikiwaify-blog @kill4jl @ggparkjh @sstephenzz @judeduartewannabe @jungwoneez @aye2611-blog @hybeboyenthusisast @minjaexvz

[gardenofnoah]

so listen i had this thought that i will inevitably never flesh out completely but in my mind....bakugou ends up being a young, single dad. and in the beginning it's terrible—he's a pro hero for god's sake, but he can't figure out how the hell to take care of a baby. his mother tries to help him but when you give him an inch he takes a mile, so he just kind of. makes himself scarce for a while. and mitsuki is so preoccupied with keeping his baby alive that she doesn't really notice at first. but when he's gone for a week straight, she's like. oh. oh no. he takes one step inside the house and she's immediately like. this is the type of man you are?

and that does something to straighten him out—but it leaves him with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove. so he raises his little girl to be a soldier. she's always polite and self-sufficient, even as a toddler. it feels necessary, because he's still very much an active hero and he can't always be around—but then she gets older and he's not quite sure how to interact with her like he should and she has that same rage he knows like the back of his hand and he's like oh shit.

i imagine meeting you feels inconsequential at first—you're a neighbor or something, and you notice that it's just the two of them. you run into each other enough times that it feels weird that you haven't introduced yourself yet, so you do, and things progress from there. but it's slow—he's busy and guarded and so are you, really—you lived through that war too and under no uncertain terms did you intend to be someone's mother. and evidently his daughter feels the same, because when you meet her for the first time, it's the only time bakugou has seen his daughter cry since she was a baby.

and i think it takes years for her to warm up to you. open hostility turns to a numbed indifference, but you break her down slowly—you don't feel like you have much of a maternal instinct but there's a clear lack of something that she needs that bakugou just can't give. so you try your best to just be there—to be something new that she can take or leave as she pleases.

you don't think you're doing a great job and things still feel very strained for a while. except one day there's an accident. someone breaks into your place or something? and you're fine, but it's really poor timing, because bakugou's daughter gets home from school to find an ambulance and several police cars in front of the building. and she just loses it—some cop tries to stop her from getting through the front door and you catch her frantic eyes over his shoulder—

"move—that's my fuckin' mom—"

and even in the chaos, something in you settles. she finally gets around him—later you find out she bit him but bakugou's manager takes care of it before her dad catches wind of it—and nearly takes you out with the force of her hug. it makes you snort.

"i'm fine, kid," you press a kiss to her blonde hair, "and watch your mouth."

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

(3) TENDER LIKE A BRUISE ─── ethan landry 𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “Let me hold your tenderness for a moment, Forgetting all pains that the tenderness has caused….” — Luffina Lourduraj

pairing. spiderman!ethan landry x reader

warnings. heavy swearing, mention of blood+death, alcohol

summary. ethan calls during a patrol, frantic, and you have no choice but to find and save him. (1) (2) (3) (4)

a/n. another bit of the spiderman!ethan landry universe. i'm being pretty carefree about the timeline atm, so basically you and ethan have been fake-dating for a few months already. also, do tell if the relationship progression is too fast or too slow!

iii.

Your fake-dating label has stuck, following you everywhere. 

From having an awkward dinner with Ethan’s parents (which would have been one with his entire family, but Quinn could not keep a straight face and had to leave), having double-dates with Annika and Mindy, Ethan having to ward off weirdos hitting on you at parties (which, was actually rather welcome), and the like.

Sometimes, entirely to keep your cover straight, you and Ethan have to engage in some… physical contact. Mostly, it’s hand holding, or wiping something off his cheek, him tucking your hair back behind your ear, fixing his shirt collar, him tying your shoes — all the little intimate things that make your fake relationship seem so much more real. 

It’s kind of sweet, actually, how in-tune you guys are becoming with each other. Like, Ethan knows how you like your coffee, and you know what shirts he likes to keep at your place more than the others. You can trust the boy to pick an amazing place to order food from, and he can trust you to wash his Spidersuit like no-one else. (Seriously, he is shocked at how you can clean it in forty minutes and he can spend four hours in his sink without doing much at all.)  

However, once, you and Ethan had to kiss. Well, “kiss”. It was drunk couple stuff, trying to fly under everyone's radar. 

Your friends were beginning to think it was a little odd you had never done anything while drunk together, because everyone did. Sure, you two could be very private considering PDA, but everyone saw how sweet you were in front of others, so it was getting suspicious.

To void these pesky suspicions, during a low-key drunk night between friends at Chad and Ethans place, you downed a full shot of gin, let it burn in your throat, and pulled yourself onto the equally drunk Ethan. 

You had climbed atop his lap, his fatigued head thrown back against the leather couch. Your hands graced the sides of his face, and through your alcohol stained lips you whispered close in Ethan’s ear. 

“I’m going to kiss you, Ethan. Fake, though,” You said simply, your mind addled with that familiar alcohol fog. 

You waited for his familiar hum of acknowledgment, the one he voiced when he was brushing his teeth, or drinking something, all his little sounds you’d grown to know. 

When he did, you leaned your head at just the right angle that to everyone, it looked like you were going to town on Ethan, when in reality you were pecking the side of his lip. 

Your hands had carded through Ethan’s soft, curly locks, tugging slightly and repositioning yourself on his lap, his own hands settling nervously on your waist. You moved onto hovering around his neck, sending shivers down his spine with your hot breath on his skin. 

Ethan could taste the citrus stains you left on the side of his mouth, and he was beginning to feel feverish. His entire body was incredibly warm, either from the alcohol, or how close you were to him now. 

He gulped, watching you on his lap, pretending to do everything he had exactly zero experience in. You - this, made him so incredibly nervous, he was losing his mind over your touch. 

And as soon as it started, it was over, and you pulled yourself off the flustered boy. Chad whistled at the intensity of the action, a “proud dad” moment of sorts. 

Ignoring it, your hands itched towards another shot of alcohol. Through the corner of your eye, you saw Ethan, breathing heavily, eyes coursing over you. 

His gaze, low and deep, made your heart skip a tender beat, beginning to thump louder in your ears—

You downed another shot, and let it wash those thoughts away. Perhaps it is denial, or perhaps you don’t want to lose him. 

(Somewhere deep in you, you’re terrified of losing him. Literally and figuratively, you could lose Ethan in so many ways it's beginning to hurt.

One of those ways comes far too soon for your comfort.) 

-

It’s Halloween. 

You’re stuck in someone's house, and a drunk girl you don’t know the name of is regaling you on her outfit choices for the night. 

Quinn and Mindy are fighting over who's the better superhero, Spiderman or Iron-Man (and when Quinn heatedly declares Spiderman is some friendless, familyless freak, you snort), Tara and Chad are… doing whatever their newly blossomed situationship requires to make even more tense, and Annika is passed out on Mindy’s shoulder. 

Ethan is on patrol tonight, after he left you alone in the middle of the party. Apparently, it had something to do with candy and costumes making criminals more “devious” (whatever that meant). 

Sometimes, you really wish trick-or-treating wasn’t just for kids. 

You slip away from the drunk girl, whose friend group has since found her, and sneak into the very same bathroom Ethan had jumped out of earlier. In the mirror, you finnicked with the costume you were wearing. 

“I couldn’t exactly find anything similar, so I made it myself.” Ethan had said a few hours ago, holding up the costume. It was an odd black-and-white version of his Spidersuit, with a white hood and pink underarms. 

“It’s made of a mix of spandex and a flexible carbon-fiber I stole from the evidence locker at the NYPD - the same stuff as my suit. And, I know, not morally great, but whatever, I’ll make up for it by catching the criminals who owned that stuff.” Ethan continued, stretching the fabric. 

You raised a brow, taking the slim piece of fabric off his hands. “And why exactly do I have to be some Spiderman dupe tonight?” 

Ethan scratched his cheek, gaze veering from yours.  “If I’m wearing this, you’ve gotta wear that. To keep the cover, obviously.”

You two were sitting on your bed, Ethan already decked out in his own well made Spiderman “costume”. Everyone else was dressed, too, just waiting for you to finish.

“So,” You leaned in closer to Ethan, “this is just a matching couple costume… for the cover.”

Ethan nodded rapidly, still avoiding your eyes. 

You surveyed him for a moment: his brown eyes were coursing across the whole room, on anything except you, lips bitten between his teeth, hair askew, slight blush blazing across his face. 

Something about that look of his just got to you, and the sound of the blood rushing to your face was positively deafening. 

You pulled back, trying to ease your stuttering heart. “Isn’t this a bad idea? Wearing the suit and all, aren’t you scared of someone finding out?”

“I think it’s ironic.” Ethan said under his breath, a small smile gracing his face. “And it’s the opposite. If I pretend to be some superfan, people won’t think I’m him.” 

You puffed up your cheeks, blowing the air out. “Okay, fine. I’ll wear your couples costume. Just don’t, and I mean it, Ethan, do not leave me alone at the party to go on patrol.”

“[Name]. You know I can’t promise you anything, I mean, what if there's a dog or something getting stolen out of an apartment—“

Without thinking, you stopped his rambling by pulling him close to you, hands gripping lightly at his arms. The two of you held still for a moment, staring deep into eachothers eyes. 

You would have been ready to say anything, but the heartfelt words you had thought of, the feelings you knew were burning in your heart, about to burst at any moment, died in the sudden hesitance you felt from Ethan. 

Unknowingly, your face contorted into one of hurt. “I know. I know, I’m sorry, I - I know that's selfish of me to ask, I just…” You let go of him, “there will never be enough time in the world for you to be both Ethan and Spiderman. Which one - which life, relationships -  do you value more?” you turned away, whispering under your breath. 

And if Ethan had heard you, he didn’t say anything. Tension settled in the room, with a terribly miserable air of regret. 

Suddenly, Mindy had called out from the living room that you’d all be late to the party if you didn’t hurry up. Ethan exited your room quietly, and you didn’t see him look back at your door with so much guilt it was choking him. 

Remembering that bitter start to the night, you sighed, patting down your spandex suit. 

Then, someone on the other side of the bathroom door started banging it, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying under the blaring music reverberating throughout the entire house. 

“Wait a minute!” You shouted, straining your throat. You began to continue in the loud tone, but the familiar buzz of your phone interrupted you. 

Quickly, you fished out the device from a sleek thigh pocket you were thoroughly impressed with Ethan for designing, and clicked it on. 

“Speak of the devil,” You mumbled to yourself, seeing the ever-present contact name of ETHAN LANDRY buzzing atop your phone screen. 

You answered, pressed the phone to your ear. However, before you could get a word out, Ethan began frantically shouting into the phone. 

“[Name]! Goddam—it, okay, I need you to - to - I left my backpack at your place, and I can’t do this without—“ 

“Ethan! Ethan, Eth— slow down, I can’t—“ 

“Get my bag, please, and don’t find me, just— leave it at Blackmore, near the fountain, I’ll swing by— and— oh, for fuc—“ 

And then he hung up. Or, more precisely, probably broke his phone swinging away from whatever was causing him to act like that. 

You felt your heart drop, finally registering the intensity of Ethan’s voice. The boy was often lighthearted and dorky, extremely endearing in his polite awkwardness, so hearing how alarmed he was now was sending you for a loop. 

You shook your head, storing such feelings away for later. You made a mental note of Ethan’s requests: bag at your apartment, leave at Blackmore fountain.

Nervously, you cranked open the window in the bathroom, eyeing the slingers attached to your wrists. You’d found out entirely by accident after sticking to a beer bottle that Ethan hadn’t merely created a fake pair of web slingers for the costume — he’d supplied you with a functional pair of his own. 

Ethan had done a full run-down of his suit once, entirely fascinated with the thing. He was so proud of his own creation, rambling about how the web-fluid took ages to perfect, and about the one time his father got in trouble for “forgetting” to keep track of evidence from the NYPD locker. 

This identity was entirely Ethan’s own, and he was so incredibly happy with it. You realized then how selfish your comment had been, how it must have stung him so. 

You bit your lip, and pushed yourself back on track, slipping on the matching mask the costume had. Surprisingly, the vision in it wasn’t terrible, and it was merely a little foggy. 

Then, at the window, you decided you needed to use the web slingers. You knew this could go extremely wrong, seeing as you obviously hadn’t been bit by a radioactive spider, so your agility, physical build, and pain tolerance were at an all time low in comparison to Ethans, but you remembered how frenzied the boy-hero was— and swung out the window. Time was of essence. 

You finnicked with the webs, feeling the cool night chill bite your face, and tried desperately to replicate how Ethan so easily thwipped building to building. You just barely made it into an alley a few blocks away from the party-house, and almost hit your head on a lamp post on the way there, so you knew after this incident you’d never even approach the web-slinger cuffs. 

You ran the rest of the way to your apartment, climbed up your fire escape, and shimmied the small gap for Ethan in the glass window open with your foot. After a moment of scanning, you nicked Ethan’s characteristic green canvas bag, and braced yourself to swing once more. 

Your web made a slippery connection with the building in front of you - Danny’s apartment - and you swore you saw your life flash before your eyes when you almost fell. 

After several moments of climbing down the wall with webs, a situation which closely resembled rock climbing with a rope, you broke into another run, heading to Blackmore University. 

You would have felt dead tired by now if not for the adrenaline pumping through you, your anxiety for Ethan up to your ears. That, and maybe the amateur web-slinging that almost killed you, were the only things keeping you upright as you ran around New York. 

However, as you made quick shortcuts through other alleys, you heard a familiar cry come out from an approaching block. 

“Fucking—“ You heard the boy cry out, heaving, alongside the sounds of an intense scuffle. 

Without any acknowledgment of doing so, your body pulled itself to the dimly lit backstreet lane, and you found yourself watching Ethan, partially unmasked, fighting a group of several masked people, weapons and duffle bags of money thrown on the ground. In the distance, you could vaguely hear an alarm — perhaps a banks — beeping on and off. 

“E—“ You stopped yourself mid sentence, breath catching in your throat, and when one of the men threatened to grab the pistol lying haphazardly to Ethan’s side, you shot a web at the gun, bringing it to you. 

Quickly, you slid the offending weapon away, and did as much as you could to help the still-fighting Ethan. From throwing measly punches of your own, tossing weapons away, or pinning the burglars to the wall with webs, you did it all, until it was just you and Ethan, sitting on the cobblestone, breathing heavily. 

He slipped his mask fully back on, and turned to say something to you, obviously seeing your own mask on, as well as your use of his web slingers. 

But, then replacing the bank's alarm in your ears, several police sirens could be heard making their way down to the backstreet lane you were occupying. 

“We have to go. Can you swing?”  you said to Ethan between gasping for air. 

“I’m out of web fluid. It - it’ll take too long to refill,” he pointed lazily to the long-forgotten backpack. 

“I’ll do it, then,” You said, trying not to show your hesitancy. Before Ethan could voice his own surprise and fear, you wrapped an arm (and several webs, as you knew you could not fully support his built body) around him and shot a thick string of webs at the closest tall building. 

“You’re—“ Ethan’s eyes were wide open, “doing it wrong! We’ll— fall!”

“Just—“ you swung to the next building, completely unaware of how terrifying your technique was to an expert, “bare with it! I promise not to - kill us!”

“I’m unsure how - trustworthy - your - words are!” 

“Stop - distracting me!” You said, making a close call on a parked garbage truck, before making your last swing to the fire escape window at your apartment. 

Thank god the bank was not all the way across the world to your apartment, for you didn’t know how long your poor swinging skills and decent luck would last. 

You two entered your room, and you immediately ripped off the white hooded mask you were wearing, taking in fresh bouts of air like a fish entering water. You felt extremely relieved that you two had made it back safe, alive — but Ethan clearly felt differently. 

He tore his mask off, rapidly turning to face you. “I thought I told you to leave the bag at Blackmore!” Ethan’s finger was pointed accusingly, “I told you not to find me, for fucks sakes, [Name]!”

“Excuse me?” You said, in shock. “If I hadn’t found you — and I was going to Blackmore, I was taking fucking shortcuts, Landry — if I hadn’t found you, alright, you could be dead right now. You said it yourself, you were out of web-fluid!”

“Not then! I would’ve made it out fine!”

“Is this fine to you?” You gestured to his bloodied state, beaten up and bruised. “What? Were you gonna drag your broken bones up my fire escape, ask me to fix you up again?”

Ethan’s eyebrows creased. He had no answer for your words. “Just— I fucking told you not to fucking find me!”

“Jesus christ, Landry, you are fucking stubborn. I did find you, okay, but not on purpose— I fucking stumbled upon you. So don’t get all up on me for something you did.” 

“You didn’t have to help either,” he said viciously, “I have escaped worse situations without your help. I have done this for years without you, okay?”

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Oh my god, are you serious right now? I wouldn’t have to help you if you didn’t call me, if you didn’t forget your web fluid, and if you just fucking listened to me and didn’t go on patrol tonight.”

Ethan went silent, digesting your words.

“You know this is your fucking fault, right?” 

And as soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You wanted to catch the air and stuff it right back down your throat, undo your harshness, realize how increasingly broken Ethan’s tone was. 

Realize how he stared at your cuts and limp, realize how guilty he looked as he asked why you went to find him. 

Why you put yourself in danger. 

Ethan’s mouth opened and closed, unsure of how to tread further, his anger falling off him in waves, revealing the pain he held underneath. 

“Fuck, Ethan, I’m sorry, I—“ you started, but stopped when Ethan looked you in the eye. 

“You could’ve died,” he whispered, “and you were - you were swinging and fighting armed men, [Name], I—“

“Ethan, I wanted to. I wanted to help you, it was my own goddamn choice. My own stupid choice.” 

“No - no, you were right. I should’ve never called you, I have done this all before, in worse moments, all by myself—“

“That does not mean you should, Ethan. Being alone in this kind of danger is not smart.” 

“I’d rather be alone than endanger you.” 

“Ethan, I’d rather be endangered than have to lose you.” 

You stared deep into eachothers eyes, not unlike the way you did at the beginning of the night. Except this time something had changed, perhaps the way you unearthed your hearts to one another now made it so much easier to breathe, to feel, to do. 

But there was still hesitation there. Untread territory and past regrets making things - this - so much harder to make real. 

You and Ethan wanted to do so much more, to do all the things you pretended to do, but instead, you wrapped your arms around his broad back and hugged him like there was no tomorrow, like you were the last people on earth before a meteor struck. His arms snaked around your waist similarly, longingly, and terribly grievous.

It felt like connecting broken pieces of a heart together, and though you did not kiss, you felt so equally joined to him like you had. The hug was long and intimate, so close you could smell the dull impression of his cheap cologne from earlier, the lonely heat of your bodies joining to warm you both so completely.

You felt so at home in his touch. You could only wish he felt the same. 

(And Ethan did. He melted into you, the only thoughts in his mind being that this felt right. 

Somewhere, deep in his mind, where he kept his guilt hidden, he felt he was just going to lose another thing he loved. That this love was futile, fading, the loss inevitable. 

But today Ethan wanted to be selfish, breathe you in, and be at peace, even for a second.) 

a/n2: no kiss, and not quite to the official relationship yet, folks! but we’re getting there, slowly but surely. have these lovely crumbs for now. though, big milestone: the acknowledgment of mutual love!

taglist: @iloveneilperry @backtotheshitshow @hazehepburn @powowowy @ifilwtmfc @oscarisdaddy69 @al1v3cvp1d2 @bloodyeverything @diamondci1ty @l5bryinth @gojosbucket @volturi-girl-imagines @sflame15-blog @thatoneembarrasingmoment @bajadotcom @cerealzzz @elynka @theapulidooo @solaceinwriting-blog1

(strikethrough: wouldn’t allow me to tag!)

[gleamingyu]

hits different.

part I of the midnights series. inspired by taylor swift’s midnights. part II

pairing: music-producer!seungcheol x lawyer!fem!reader [exes-to-lovers]

genre: romance. slight angst. drama.

warnings: she/her pronouns for reader (but no specific physical characteristics). mentions of a pretty rough breakup. slight angst. some light cursing. mentions of death (jokingly though). terrible knowledge of law stuff (thank my brief interest in htgawm). yearning. loads of miscommunication. slow burn. cheol & reader are both stubborn. mentions of drinking. alternating povs. lower caps intended [if there’s anything i missed, please let me know!]

word count: 4.7k

notes: this is the first part of a new series i thought of! this is also my first time writing (or more like, finishing writing) something, so please be kind! any comments, reblogs or likes are welcome. and thank you to whoever decides to give this a chance :)

summary: still recovering from a not-so-fresh breakup, seungcheol leans on his friends to get back on his feet. it turns out to be much easier said than done, especially when his record label recruits the help of a law firm to deal with a recent scandal, which just so happens to be the same firm his ex works at. just his luck.

if anyone could see the scene in front of mingyu, they’d be severely concerned, much like he is at this very moment.

seungcheol is quite literally buried under a pile of blankets on his bed, the only visible part of his body a tuft of his dark brown hair. the floor of his bedroom is covered in clothes and empty food containers, and the air feels so stale and hot, it’s taking everything in mingyu not to gag. there is no light coming into the room except from the lightbulb shining in the hallway where mingyu is standing, and… is that… phoebe bridgers he can hear playing from somewhere?

mingyu glances down at his feet where kkuma, seungcheol’s devoted dog – and only girl who’s ever truly loved him, according to him – is sitting staring right back at him, a look on her fluffy face that mingyu swears looks just as depressed as her dad.

“this is way worse than i thought,” mingyu sighs, finally stepping into the bedroom. “okay, enough of this!”

mingyu grabs the blankets on the bed and pulls them away, revealing a very aggravated seungcheol. “what the hell are you doing?!”

“i’m not sure yet, because this,” mingyu gestures around the room, “is a lot. but it starts with you getting your ass out of bed and into the shower. immediately. this place smells like there’s a corpse somewhere in here.”

“yeah, it’s me. i’m the corpse. or i wish i was, because that would mean i’ve finally died,” seungcheol groans, turning away from mingyu and effectively shoving his face into the bed.

mingyu sighs, turning around to start collecting some of the dirty clothes on the floor. he finds himself regretting not calling jeonghan or joshua to come with him, because seungcheol might have been more easily persuaded to stop moping with them around. the reality is, they all thought seungcheol was doing better; he was back on his grind at work, finishing several albums he had been producing for, he was making progress in his jiu-jitsu classes, and he even joined the rest of the guys on their trip to australia last month, with minimal persuasion from his friends.

looking at the shell of a man laying on the bed in front of him, mingyu realizes he should’ve asked. he should’ve asked his friend how he was really doing, what he was feeling, what he could actually do to help him move past this.

better late than never.

“listen,” mingyu starts, going to sit on the edge of seungcheol’s bed but reconsidering. who knows when he last changed these. “i’m sorry if we haven’t really been there for you. i know a thing or two about breakups and heartbreak, so i guess i should’ve figured you weren’t alright, not like you said you were. you don’t have to keep all you’re feeling locked up. you can talk to us.”

seungcheol’s head moves slightly to the side, peeking at mingyu from the corner of his eye. he sighs, and turns on his back. mingyu tries not to cringe at seungcheol’s sullen face, his eyes red and still wet, as if he was still crying when mingyu arrived at his apartment.

“don’t beat yourself up, gyu. believe it or not, i was actually doing better. but a few days ago, i … i was cleaning around the closet by the entrance and …” he pauses, and mingyu thinks he might burst into tears. seungcheol breathes in however, closes his eyes, and continues. “i found one of her old hats. you know, the yellow crochet bucket hat she always used to wear in the summer? i bought it for her birthday when we had just started dating and … i don’t know, i just broke down. it hit me again that we’re over. like really.”

you and seungcheol broke up … four, five months ago? seungcheol shakes his head, he feels like time hasn’t passed the same since. days pass him by where he just goes over and over your last conversation – which was more of a fight, really – and he always ends up regretting everything he said that day. regrets resenting you for always working late, for never asking him to accompany you to firm events… regrets accusing you of some unspeakable things.

looking back, he can’t believe how big of an idiot he was. no wonder you left and didn’t even bother to come back to get your things. you left everything behind, all your clothes that still smelled of the lavender detergent you used to buy, your makeup haphazardly thrown into one of the bathroom drawers, the cooking books you always bought “for inspiration” but never, ever actually opened… and the yellow bucket hat you got from seungcheol for the first birthday you spent together. seungcheol had left everything where it was, a tiny part of him hoping you two would work this out somehow. but weeks went by with no word from you, and when he had tried reaching you, he came to the grave conclusion that you had blocked him on all platforms, cut him off from your life like a dead limb. back then he thought he deserved it. he still does.

“i’m sorry, hyung. i really am,” mingyu shakes seungcheol from his reverie, reaching a hand to pet his shoulder. a beat passes between them. “have you tried… calling her again since?”

“no. i don’t know what good it would do,” seungcheol sighs. “even if she answered, i doubt all the apologies i could offer would fix anything. i said some pretty fucked up shit.”

“yeah, i know. if you remember, i was there the next day ripping you a new one,” mingyu teases, desperately trying to cheer up his friend somehow. he swears he can see seungcheol’s lips twitch a bit. “but who knows… now that you both had some time to yourselves, you might actually be able to overcome this calmly. and if… if it doesn’t work out in the end, at least you’ll both have some closure.”

closure. that’s a funny word, because seungcheol wants the furthest thing from closure. he wants you back in his bed and your arms around him, he wants your indie artists he’s never heard of playing around the apartment in the morning, he wants your laugh echoing in the halls. he wants you.

he knows that the only way this ending could even be a possibility would be if he actually took mingyu’s advice and called you up, but another part of him is terrified of the other possibility: the one where you pick up and tell him to go to hell and fuck himself and never call you again or show his face around you. so for now, seungcheol opts for a third option: emotional limbo, with a side of trying-to-move-on.

he gets up from the bed and asks mingyu if he could help him straighten out the place. mingyu, bless his sweet heart, of course says yes and gets to work after sending seungcheol to clean himself up. just as he’s about to close the bathroom door, he hears mingyu’s exasperated voice.

“oh, for the love of god, where is that god-awful music coming from?!”

seungcheol can’t remember the last time he laughed so heartily.

the bar you find yourself in is bustling with people, laughter and cheerful conversations filling the space. you’re only half listening to whatever topic your two best friends, yunjin and chaeyoung, are discussing – something about “that bitch” in yunjin’s department at work that’s been giving her a hard time – instead reveling in the pleasant buzz of the champagne you’re nursing.

it had been a while since you were able to enjoy a nice evening with your girls. the past few months had been filled with endless meetings, client-induced headaches and sleepless nights, but thankfully, today you had managed to finally strike a deal for one of the firm’s most important clients (to be read as filthy rich), which you had been working towards all these months. naturally, upon hearing the news, chaeyoung and yunjin had begged you to join them at a bar in the city, “to celebrate your newfound freedom.”

you splurged on a bottle of champagne for the three of you and decided that tonight, you were going to have fun. you were going to relax, enjoy some drink, and catch up with your friends who you hadn’t seen in weeks.

and you will not, under any circumstances, bring up seungcheol.

you like to believe that in the last two months you had gotten better at shutting out any thought of your ex-boyfriend. in the days – more like weeks, if you were to ask chaeyoung and yunjin – following the ugly breakup, you were quite the literal mess. finding yourself alone and with nowhere to go, considering you had left the apartment you shared with seungcheol with nothing but your work stuff (how on-brand for you), it wasn’t surprising that your mental and emotional health had taken a massive hit. thankfully, at the insistence of yunjin, you agreed to crash at her place while you put yourself back together and took time off from work – something you had never done before.

to the surprise of your friends, it only took you two weeks to go back to work and start looking for your own place. two weeks after that, you were moving into a new apartment and claimed that you were feeling much better since the breakup. or at least starting to. chaeyoung and yunjin didn’t want to argue with you on this – even thought they 100% believed the front you were putting up was a load of crap – but in the end, they didn’t even have to, because the first time you went out with them again since the breakup, you had your first meltdown.

but was it really your fault that the man sitting two seats down the bar from you had ordered whiskey neat, just like seungcheol always used to? and was it really your fault that he was wearing a maroon leather jacket similar to the one seungcheol always used to wear in the fall, which you absolutely adored?

could they really blame you for bursting into tears right then and there and wailing about how much of a jerk seungcheol was for never understanding your dedication to your work? how much of a hypocrite he was for expecting you to just dip from the office when he suddenly had some free time, when he had never done so for you?

that night, chaeyoung and yunjin quite literally dragged you back to chaeyoung’s place and held you while you cried yourself to sleep, and in the morning, when you had embarrassingly admitted that “no, you weren’t really doing fine,” they held you again and offered soft-spoken words of support, opting to keep the classic we told you so in their thoughts.

four months passed since that incident and now, you could confidently say that you were truly feeling better. you weren’t quite over seungcheol per se; there were nights when you still thought about the smell of vanilla that filled the room whenever he was fresh out of a shower, the way he always got so giggly when you brought home a tray of cherries… yeah, you still found yourself missing him terribly sometimes. but the more time passed, you realized that seungcheol hadn’t tried reaching you at all in the months since the breakup, and so you thought he might be moving on as well.

it is true you had blocked him on all social platforms for weeks after you stormed out of your place. but on a particularly bad day, when all you did was cry and cry and cry after him, the thought of calling him up and asking him to go back to how things were crossed your mind, and you unblocked his number. unfortunately, your pride had set itself in your way, convincing you that it was seungcheol that needed to make the first step, considering he was the one who quite literally cornered you into a fight. so you didn’t call and instead prayed to whatever forces exist in the universe, that seungcheol would try your number again.

he never did.

“soooo, cheers to the lady of the hour! finally free from the clutches of corporate law!” yunjin cheered, clinking her glass against yours and knocking you out of your reverie.

damn it, seungcheol, i said i would not think of you tonight!

“yes, cheers!” chaeyoung joined in. “how do you feel? are you going to get a big ass bonus for the amount of time you put into this asshole?”

chaeyoung was probably right, you probably did deserve a huge ass bonus for the deal you pulled for the client you were handling. when you were in law school, you had never imagined yourself working for sleazy, corporate pigs who behaved like none of their actions would bite them in the ass eventually, and expecting others – like yourself – to clean up after them. but, as your boss grimly explained to you the day you had complained about your client, everybody has to start somewhere. “and junior partners don’t get to choose cases, sweetheart.”

life at the firm wasn’t always terrible. you were lucky enough to be part of an amazing team, and the firm worked with plenty of influential and big personalities, so you almost never had to worry about your income. but sometimes, some of the people you were asked to represent brought you to the brink of just quitting your job altogether.

“i just feel relieved,” you say. “if i had to hear the incessant whining and nagging of that idiot for one more day, i might have gone insane!”

“well, thank god you’re a stellar lawyer and managed to get rid of him,” yunjin teases, taking a sip of her drink. “do you already have anything else lined up?”

“god, no! i have a few days off just to take care of paperwork, maybe help out some of my colleagues around the office… but nothing big for now, thankfully.”

“oh, that’s amazing! which reminds me, this means you can actually join us on that weekend spa trip we were talking about last week,” chaeyoung happily suggests, as she’s already pulling up the website of the spa retreat.

“i guess a spa day would be nice,” you say, looking over at chaeyoung’s phone. you feel your body already going lax at the thought of a hot stone massage.

“oh, that would be so nice!” yunjin pouts. “we haven’t gone on a girls trip in so long! i miss going away, just the three of us… do you guys remember that trip we took to croatia two years ago? that was the best one we ever did, i swear!”

while chaeyoung joins yunjin in reminiscing about all the trips the three of you took over the years, you feel your phone buzzing in the pocket of your dress paints. pulling it out, you see an email notification…

“oh, no…” your voice trails off, reading over the email you had just received.

“what? what’s the matter?” yunjin asks, her conversation with chaeyoung coming to a halt.

“my boss just emailed me. he wants me in the office tomorrow morning. some big case that just came in,” you explain, already feeling a headache coming in.

“but tomorrow’s saturday,” chaeyoung frowns.

“i know… i know.”

when monday rolls around, seungcheol really wished that he had died before mingyu had found him the week before.

the day started normal enough. he woke up at 5 a.m. and took kkuma for a walk in the park near his apartment building, just like every morning. by 8 a.m., he was already set up in his studio inside the PLEDIS building, ready to work on the tracks he was supposed to finish mixing by the end of the week. seungcheol liked the buzz of the label, people from all different departments running around trying to stay on their schedules; it motivated him to also do his part diligently, and reminded him that he was extremely lucky to be doing one of the things he loves most: music.

seungcheol should’ve guessed something was up today the moment the clock struck 11 and jihoon, the other in-house producer of PLEDIS, and one of his oldest friends, hadn’t come by his studio. he and jihoon had known each other since their college days, having met in an audio engineering class they apparently shared, and had been friends for 8 years now. during their last year of college, they were recruited by a record label that was just starting out (which became the PLEDIS of today), and despite all warnings from their families, they decided to take a leap of faith together and join the company. it all worked out for the better, it turned out, as PLEDIS only grew and soon became a household name in the music industry.

as the only producers that have stuck around PLEDIS since the beginning, they developed several… traditions, or rituals over the years, one of which was jihoon’s 11 a.m. coffee run, which they’d spend sharing ideas and notes over each other’s work, and, if jihoon was in a particularly good mood, engage in some office gossip (not that either of them would ever admit it). today, however, jihoon is a no-show and seungcheol can’t help but wonder what his friend is up to.

when he shoots jihoon a quick text, asking if he’s alright, his friend only replies with a “just busy,” and tells seungcheol not to wait up for him at lunch, as he’ll probably be stuck in the studio all day. this doesn’t surprise him that much, seeing as jihoon might be an even bigger workaholic than he is, but he still can’t shake the feeling that something must be up with his friend. he decides that instead of going out for lunch, he’s gonna pick up some takeout and join jihoon in his studio. he wouldn’t be able to rest easy knowing his friend will go a day without eating anything.

once lunch hours begin, seungcheol takes a quick walk two blocks down the street to the restaurant mingyu works in, who’s already waiting for him with the food seungcheol had requested for him and jihoon. on his way back to PLEDIS, he texts jihoon again, just to make sure he’s still in the studio, but there’s no answer, and now seungcheol is seriously starting to get worried. he jogs the rest of the way until he’s back inside the building, and takes the elevator to the 6th floor where jihoon’s studio is stationed.

walking up to the door that reads UNIVERSE FACTORY, he stops in his tracks when he hears more than one voice from the other side of the door. he easily recognizes jihoon’s voice, but the other voices – two other men and a woman – are harder to make out. except… except the woman’s voice is eerily familiar, and without a second thought, seungcheol grips the handle and swings the door open, four pairs of eyes whipping in his direction.

his eyes land on jihoon, who looks like he wishes he was anywhere else in that moment, and then scan the rest of room, recognizing mr. han, their CEO, and… you. it’s you.

seungcheol feels like he’s going to faint. mr. han does not look the least bit happy about seungcheol’s intrusion, and he really wishes the man would slap him just so he can know for sure if he’s dreaming. if you’re surprised to see seungcheol, your face shows no sign of it, and seungcheol can’t help but stare at you. you look so beautiful, so put together; your make-up is soft, almost unnoticeable, your hair pushed behind your ears, and you’re wearing a dark green suit… oh, how he loved you in green.

you were the picture of grace and professionalism and he was… not. he really wishes he hadn’t come to the studio in sweatpants right now.

“mr. choi, what a… surprise,” mr. han exclaims, standing up from his seat, you and the other man – who seungcheol has no idea who he is, but he knows he doesn’t like the way he’s standing so close to you – following suit. “i didn’t know mr. lee was expecting you,” mr. han continues, glancing towards jihoon, who turned red as a tomato.

“i wasn’t, actually,” jihoon squeaks, avoiding both seungcheol and mr. han’s gazes.

“i apologize, i was… i was just bringing jihoon some lunch. i didn’t know there was… a meeting happening,” seungcheol says, looking towards you, and he’s almost thrown back by the way you’re just… staring directly at him.

mr. han sighs, but remembering the situation, he quickly puts on a polite smile as he turns towards you and the other man. “mr. choi is one of our other in-house producers. mr. choi, this is mr. jeon and miss L/N. they’re helping us with some… legal matters.”

so that’s why you were here. and who the other guy was. but what legal matters? and why was jihoon involved? and why didn’t he tell seungcheol?!

before seungcheol can ask more questions, mr. han gestures towards the door he came through and says “now, if you don’t mind, you can come back in a few minutes, mr. choi. we’ll be done soon.”

soon. soon, his ass!

seungcheol had been pacing the hallway outside jihoon’s studio for the past 20 minutes (he checked, he wasn’t exaggerating!), trying very hard not to eavesdrop through the door, and thinking of every possible reason why jihoon would need legal help and why you would be here.

jihoon was definitely in some kind of trouble. for the CEO to be involved as well, it for sure must be something that could affect the whole label. seungcheol just can’t understand why jihoon wouldn’t tell him if he had any kind of problem. they were colleagues, but most importantly, they were friends. he would’ve dropped everything to come to his aid.

now, when it comes to you… seungcheol knows you’re a lawyer, obviously he does. he met you when you were halfway through law school, and he was there for every failed and aced exam, for your graduation (he was so proud of you that day, it was the first time you’d ever seen him cry), for every measly job you had before finally securing the one you currently held at one of the top firms in the city. he also knows you’re a damn good lawyer, seeing how hard you work and how dedicated you are. he supposes it’s not surprising you were chosen to represent jihoon in whatever mess he got himself in.

he feels bad now that he remembers how he held these things above your head during your last fight. how you were working late so often, how you never asked him to join you at office parties, despite how eager you always were to go out with your coworkers for drinks, how you always asked him to wait for you outside the office building, as if you didn’t want people to know you had a partner...

he knows that both of you were to blame for how things went down between you, but since he started the argument in the first place, he thinks he could’ve brought all this up in a better way, at a better time.

his thoughts are interrupted when the door to jihoon’s studio opens again, and he finds himself regretting waiting in the hallway because now he has to face you again and he’s not ready and he doesn’t know what to say and he still looks like a hobo and –

“mr. choi!”

he looks up to see who he imagines is your colleague – mr. jeon – step towards him, as you and mr. han step out after him, discussing something. you glance once towards seungcheol before turning back to the conversation, and seungcheol feels his heart clench.

“mr. jeon, i’m sorry once again for interrupting your meeting,” seungcheol says, extending his hand to shake mr. jeon’s.

“don’t worry, no harm done at all. i’m actually glad you stuck around, because i had something to ask you. seeing as you and mr. lee are close, would you be available for a short talk with us, sometime in the next days? we’ll have to build a strong case for mr. lee and, well, some insight from his colleagues would be very helpful,” mr. jeon explains, fixing the thin-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

seungcheol is taken aback by the man’s soft tone. his sharp eyes and cold look on his face made him look pretty intimidating, but his voice is the complete opposite, putting seungcheol weirdly at ease.

“o-of course, anything for jihoon,” seungcheol quickly replies. “can i ask, though, what exactly does he need help with?”

“plagiarism.”

“PLAGIARISM?!”

“you’re being sued. for plagiarism.”

“yes.”

“and you just found out last friday.”

“yes.”

“last friday when we all went out for barbeque and you didn’t even think to mention it? not even once?!”

“will you stop pacing and sit down? you’re making me even more nervous than i already am,” jihoon sighs, dropping his head in his hands.

seungcheol sighs as well, muttering a sorry, and sits down on the couch opposite jihoon’s chair.

jihoon continues. “i didn’t mention anything because i didn’t want to piss on everyone’s good mood. it was joshua’s birthday… besides, i didn’t know all the details of the situation at that point. i thought it was another baseless accusation, you know? but they’re serious about it. they wanna take me to court.”

“what? that’s insane,” seungcheol says. “i feel weird even asking, but did you even plagiarize?”

“no! of course not! i don’t even know the people!” jihoon exclaims, flopping down on the couch next to seungcheol. he lets out a long groan. “this is just what i needed.”

seungcheol pats his friend’s back, thinking of some encouraging words. jihoon was the most talented and creative guy he knew. to think that someone would accuse him of using somebody else’s work was a concept seungcheol couldn’t even entertain.

“don’t worry. that jeon guy looks like he’s already got a game plan.”

“and Y/N,” jihoon says.

silence falls around the two of them, until jihoon stirs from the couch, sitting up to look at seungcheol.

“are we just not going to acknowledge her or what?”

“no! that’s not what i…” seungcheol sighs, hanging his head. “i just wasn’t expecting to see her. i don’t know how to feel.”

“that’s understandable. you guys haven’t seen each other in a while, right?”

seungcheol shakes his head. “did she… did she say anything to you?”

“oh, no. she was super professional, went straight to business. but…” jihoon trails off, debating whether he should say what he was thinking.

“but? but what?!” seungcheol grabs jihoon’s shoulders, shaking him a little.

“but i think she was just as rattled to see you as you were. her hand kept shaking while she was writing, after you left. i guess she was just better at hiding her surprise,” jihoon continues. “now let go of me, you animal!”

seungcheol sighs. could it be that you were just as much of a mess inside as he was? the hopeful part of him thinks you might have thought of him all these months, just as he thought of you. the other part of him thinks your hand might as well just have been shaking from anger.

“you know, this might be a good thing,” jihoon says, getting up and sitting back in front of his computer.

“what, you getting sued and her being around?”

“yeah. maybe this way you’ll finally grow some balls, put your pride aside, and actually fix things,” jihoon deadpans, and seungcheol knows the conversation is over.

yeah. easier said than done.

[biasbuck]

BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fridays

I actually did start drafting this yesterday but then my day got derailed by moustacheddie. Back again with another round of the fic I've been reading this week! You can find previous rec lists here.

27 July 2024

if you leave the light on by cloudydaisies is a post-canon fic that skips the messy bits and goes straight to a place where Buck and Eddie are free to be with each other. Though of course nothing is ever that straightforward, and here the speedbump comes in the form of an extended jeep engine light metaphor that works so beautifully. A delicious slow burn, in which Buck trusts Eddie when he says he can fix his truck and it's best to just stay with him and carpool until it's ready. Some really really lovely romance.

loves a game, wanna play? by @exhuastedpigeon have I ever seen a single episode of Love Island? No! Did that stop me enjoying the heck out of this wonderfully indulgent and fun fic. Absolutely not. In an effort to get Eddie out of his post-canon summer without Chris funk, Buck convinces him to sign up to Love Island with him. Has Eddie seen Love Island? No. Will that stop him from finding the love that's been right in front of him all along (and get a tan whilst he's at it?) Absolutely not! So funny and playful. A genuine and utter delight.

Drink in Hand by EiraLloyd a Hen POV Eddie coming out fic, with bonus Karen. In which Eddie kisses a guy at a bar and likes it:

She asks, “How bad is this going to be?”

Eddie holds out the bottle he’s carrying so she can read the label. “I brought mezcal.”

Translation: I’m having an existential crisis.

How is Hen supposed to turn him away? He brought mezcal.

so much left in store by @lesbianrobin in which Eddie is a single Dad in college, and Buck is the adhd punk kid at the back of the class, but of course he's an absolute baby whisperer. As they quickly become best friends and each other's support systems, Buck lets Eddie into a way to blow of steam...but a small disaster might accidentally lead to firefighters showing up.

all your letters in the sand (cannot heal me like your hand) by @dadbodbuck ok a sharp left turn into some hard angst here, so heed the trigger warnings and make sure you're safe when reading, this explores an on the page suicide attempt and subsequent recovery. In the wake of his mistakes and struggling with Chris' absence, Eddie's mental health rapidly declines. Buck and Tommy are there to catch him and offer a safe space to land. Not sugarcoated, this is crunchy and painful to read at times, but the love shines through, and though it's not a simple or easy journey, Eddie finds the support he needs to let professionals help him.

With a Friend in the Dark by Uncertainty_Principle and apparently I was in an angsty mood whilst fighting off this stupid cold because I also really loved this S3 post lawsuit, nobody is speaking to him, 'what if Buck found out his clots were lukemia' fic. Poor Buck just can't get the words out when he needs them, stuck in a miscommunication nightmare, and with a childhood secret about to blow up in his face. Maddie and Chim step in and soon the 118 realise just what the price is of holding on to anger. Just so much emotional whiplash. Whilst part one is complete, the follow up fic is a wip in progress now!

Maybe We're Strong by @ponyregrets finally it's time for some buddie meets The Good Place crossover fic, in which Bobby is Michael and Buck and Eddie are trying to figure out how they ended up in the good place when they've barely even lived their lives yet, Eddie's still in the army and Buck has been travelling but was thinking about maybe being a firefighter. Putting the firefam in this dynamic just works so well!

[love-hatred-stuff]

cambio [change]

A/n: eyyy so pls excuse any mistakes I didn't proof read^^

• genre: angst, a little spice ofc, sub!rafe tho

⚠ warning(s): degradation, mean reader in general, mentions of drugs and addiction, smut, that's it ig, don't wanna spoil too much

enjoy fellas, love you and thanks for reading <3

Part 2

"Please-" Rafe cried, letting out a rough sob afterwards, interrupting himself.

You didn't say anything. You just looked at him, questioning your relationship at this point.

After a few seconds, he managed to calm down his sniffling and looked at you with his glossy eyes, shaking his head in disbelief of this situation.

"Please, just one more chance... I promise, I'll do anything!" He pleased with you, but you weren't in the mood.

"What are you begging for anyway? It's not like there's anything left to save." You monotonously stated.

Another sob from across from you. You hated seeing him like this, it broke your heart, but not more than he already did. Besides, he was responsible for all this.

"I know, I- I don't deserve it. You're right. I just... love you so much, and- and I can't breathe thinking about you leaving me." He wiped his tears aggressively. He didn't feel like he deserved to cry, he shouldn't be doing any of the things he was doing right in this moment.

You just scoffed.

"Ah- yes, poor you, Rafe. I'm so sorry, you're gonna have to live with it." You couldn't bring yourself to feel anything besides bitterness right now.

Rafe knew this would come, he knew someday you would find out and the bond you two shared would be destroyed. But he hadn't expected it to hurt this immensely. So all he could do was cry into his palms and wish this would all be just a nightmare.

"Do what you want, find someone that tolerates the shit you and your friends do, Rafe. But I'm not the one. See ya around, I guess." With that the door was closed behind you.

The following days, Rafe did not once leave his house, answered any texts or calls from his friends. He stopped letting anyone see inside his head. Because he was miserable and his head an ugly mess, he wasn't ready to fix any of that.

He decided that he would stop seeing his friends for a good while, if there was a slight chance you'd ever even think about taking him back, he would have to choose between you and them and making that decision wasn't even hard.

And if you still decided to live without him, he at least could show you he made some type of progress.

•••

After what felt like years, he finally managed to at least eat normally again and go to school every now and then. Of course his "friends" asked him several times what was going on with him but he just made up some cheap lie and continued his day without them.

Not seeing you for such a long time, hurt him and it was damn hard not crying himself to sleep every night because of how guilty he felt and of course because he missed you like hell and worse.

...

Just when the moment came when he felt like he was free of his awful mind for a minute, he saw something that made him feel like he was being stabbed. Several times, hard, and slow.

He was helping his dad with this event, garla, whatsoever, and it felt good because he was busy, doing something, no room for much thought. And then when he looked across the whole place just to breath and look at these filthy rich people, you caught his sight instantly.

First he almost smiled, remembering how beautifully you flipped your hair back while being concentrated on something or someone. Yeah and you were focussing on someone, what would be normal in a conversation, though you weren't having just a conversation. The guy in front of you he didn't knew, which made everything even better.

But he did actually see how his hands were squeezing your waist, like he owned it and you weren't doing anything besides smiling at him, showing your beautiful little smirk to someone that wasn't him, made him rage with fire.

And a few seconds later he realised he didn't have the right to be angry. Not anymore.

Before he could process what he just saw and that you were already leaving his sight with the tall stranger and the second after that you were severe meters in front of him.

Seeing how you recognised him and closed the distance between you two, he panicked. But it was too late to run away now.

"Hi, surprised seeing you here, thought you despised these kinds of events." You didn't smile at him but you didn't look bitter either, he couldn't make anything out of your flawless face and expression. You felt oddly foreign.

"Yeah, uh- just helping my Dad out." Was all he could bring himself to form.

"Nice suit aswell, you look different, Rafe." He wasn't sure you meant it as a compliment though. Maybe because he was starstruck on the way you said his name, as he always had been.

"You look as beautiful as ever, Ma- uh- Y/n." God, he could slap himself so hard right now. His thoughts didn't end there though, Mama, he loved calling you that, he always loved it when you controlled him.

"Oh no, don't say that. You really shouldn't." You could tell he was nervous, and that there was a question burning on his tongue.

You expectantly looked at him, waiting for Rafe to go on.

"Who, uh, who was the guy you were with just now?" Right when he ended that question he already regretted it, seeing the way you rose your brow at that.

"I- I'm sorry! I shouldn't have asked that. You don't have to answer. I'm really sorry!" He whimpered, looking at his shoes in embarrassment.

"You really are curious, aren't you? His name is Ben, a boy I'm hanging out with. He's pretty decent." You explained to the boy in front of you.

"Ah, cool, cool." He just said.

You could tell he had to gulp down that information.

"Yeah, well, I gotta go now, so..., see ya." You gave him the tiniest smile, and that was enough to have him grab you arm, so you wouldn't leave him again.

"I miss you, Y/n. So much, you can't imagine. And it hurts but if that guy makes you happier than I could, you deserve it. I just wanna be good for you." He felt ashamed now, but he had to say it.

Again, no signs on your face, of what your head looked like after his confession.

"Tommorow, 9pm, my place, can u manage that, Rafe?" Was your answer, and he was so shocked like he never had been.

He needed a while.

"Yeahh, yeah. I'll be there, I promise. Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, darling, you might wanna know why I'm doing this." After that you disappeared into the crowd.

The next day felt like it was never gonna end, Rafe couldn't stop thinking about you, and what you had planned for him.

He was sure you wouldn't take it easy on him, somehow he had to pay for what he'd done, well, besides having the worst time of his life after you left him, but still. He should be punished, and if he was honest, he was kind off scared of what was coming for him but no matter what it was now, he deserved it. After all, he'd practically used you for several months, and he never planned on staying with you so long, let alone, really falling in love with you.

He just wanted to make it up to you, be able to look at you again and think, that he's never gonna let you go.

Fast forward, at some point it was 9pm and he was standing in front of your house, not knowing what to do really. He just knocked a few times after taking a deep breath and waited for you to more or less greet him.

The moment you opened the door, was like he saw you for the first time, though you weren't wearing anything extraordinary. But the short pants and the tank top you were wearing, made him weak into the knees nonetheless.

"Nice, you showed up." You said bitterly, and he knew what you were referring to.

During your relationship you loved planning your dates beforehand, but soon you learned, it didn't mean as much to him if he stood you up or not, you forgave him again and again, because you were so fucking blind.

Rafe lowered his head in shame, waiting to be let in.

"Come on in, Cameron." You stepped aside, after some time of reconsidering if this was really a good idea.

Hopefully you could teach him some manners this time. Though you knew it wasn't going to be easy, you also knew how to keep him at your feet in the future.

A moment you found yourself standing in your luxurious living room, looking at your very much still handsome ex. You took a step towards him, wanting to have a closer look at him.

"You grew your hair out, I like it." Your fingers curled in his hair, giving him a good view as he could look directly down on you and your cleavage.

"T-thanks." He was nervous, you could tell, well he got reasons to be.

Rafe didn't know what to do really, he desperately wanted to touch you, too, but he knew he would be dead if he made a move now. Though it really was tempting. He hadn't touched you in such a long time, he couldn't resist gently putting his hands on top of your hips. And he regretted it the moment he did, he should’ve waited for permission, idiot.

Instantly you created a distance between you two, glaring at him with dark eyes.

"Fucking hell, why do think you can touch me? Was the time I Ieft you some space not enough for you?" You asked, but it sounded more like a threat to him.

His wide eyes now looked at you, mortified.

"No! I'm sorry! You just- I missed you, y/n! I couldn't resist the urge, I'm really sorry." You just sighed and rolled your eyes at his pleasing.

"Sorry, sorry, blah blah. You know you don't deserve to touch me, Cameron! And yet you can't stop thinking with you dick instead of your brain. You know, I'm slowly asking myself how you could ever make this up to me. Think for me, Rafey, think hard, what would you do?" You challenged him, as you always were.

"I'd do anything, everything you ask. I promise, just give one chance, please!" He whined, squeezing his eyes shot in embarrassment.

"Oh yeah?" You raised your brow in disbelief.

"Would you give up your friends for me?" You actually knew the answer to that and it was basically the only reason you let him inside this house again. And because, you can't deny, you couldn't stop loving this stupid asshole.

"Yes! Already did. I didn't hang out with them anymore since the day you left." His glossy eyes looked at you, hoping for forgiveness.

"I'm impressed. What would you do if I chose Ben, though huh? Would you let him touch me, Rafe?" The blonde gulped, having to process this unexpected question first.

"I- I don't know, I suppose, I should. You're... not my girlfriend right now, as much as I hate that fact."

You nodded slowly while grinning, agreeing with him.

"That's right. Say it, Rafe. I'm not yours. Not yours to touch, not yours to fuck, not yours to kiss. Not yours to look at anymore." The way you said that so effortlessly cold, made him stop breathing for a moment.

He looked at you, not knowing what to do or say next, you just broke his heart the second time.

"Say it, Rafe. I want you to look at me and say it." You commanded.

He knew you wouldn't be going easy on him, but this, this was evil, even for you.

"You're not mine." He paused, sighing before he had to continue.

"Not mine to touch, not mine to..fuck, not mine to kiss. Not mine to look at." Tears were already forming in his eyes, vision going blurry.

"Good job, baby. Now do me a favour and don't cry yet, yeah? Save your pretty tears, Rafe. Be good for me."

Oh you fucking knew how to play with him and not to mention; his feelings.

"I'm sorry, y/n!" He wiped the stray tears from his cheeks briefly before looking at you again, although it was pure torture at this point.

"Do you want me back? Does my baby want to make it up to me? Do you think you can ever win my trust back, Rafe? When I know you never saw me as an equal in the first place? It's disgusting what you and your friends did."

"Yes, I know that! And I will try my best to make it up to you, I swear I will change. I love you." He promised.

You nodded, somewhat satisfied.

"Start by going to your knees." You offered him a chance, that was better than making him say that you weren't his.

So he did. Looking up at you like a sad puppy.

"Good. No beg me to forgive you, or else we're done here." You him strictly.

He nodded and tried to find the right words for this. He never begged for anything in his life.

"I'm deeply sorry, y/n. I know that I played with your feelings for a long time, but really I hurt myself, too. You're everything for me, when I can't have you, I'm nobody. Please, take me back, and I swear, I will please you and protect you and love you the way you deserve. Please!"

A grin made it's way onto your lips, you should make him beg for you more often, humble him every now and then.

"Do you think, I should take you back? A rich addict, that doesn't know how to treat either his money as well as his girlfriend? Over someone that is humble, responsible and loyal?" You decided his torture wasn't quite over yet and you did realise that you enjoyed this way more than you should.

The dirty blonde boy kneeling infront of you whimpered quietly at the realisation you put him through.

"No, no. You shouldn't, I'm sorry for thinking you would. I just miss you so much y/n, I can't breath." He cried now, emotional limit reached.

"Oh no, Rafe. You know me, I'm just playing with you-"

"I promise I can be humble, responsible and loyal! I'm always loyal to you!" He cut you of in a desperate tone.

"Oh yeah? You didn't have fun with any other girls when you were on parties with your friends? Not once?" Actually you couldn't say what he did when he wasn't with you, but he ruined your trust, so you wouldn't be surprised if he allowed himself to have fun with some random drunk girl.

Though before that you always felt like he saw you as his only one. You didn't know what to believe anymore.

"No! I would've never! I don't have a mom, and my dad is not the best, but he taught me that if I choose to be with someone, I should show respect to this person and be loyal. Besides, I never felt like missing out with you, how could I? You filled my deepest desires and I think you are the only one that can." His eyes seemed honest to you, but as said, you didn't know if you could believe him.

"Real nice speech, Mister Cameron. Get up, I'm sure your knees hurt." You showed the tiniest bit of mercy.

"Are you sure?" He asked doubtfully.

What a good boy, you thought.

"Yeah, but don't you think I'm done with you, and certainly not that I forgive you." He wouldn't miss the warning tone in your usually sweet and lulling voice.

"Okay." Rafe stood up and although he was about a head taller than you, you still made him feel small with the amount of power you held in your gaze.

For a moment you just looked at him. He was still trembling a bit, but at least he wasn't crying right now.

"Tell me, Rafe. Did you touch yourself? Or did you let someone else take my place while I wasn't there?" Your questions now taking a whole different turn, he was surprised, and getting hot all of the sudden.

"No. I, uh, it didn't feel right doing it with someone else." He spoke quietly.

"So you touched yourself all alone, yeah?" You voice was softer now, much more gently than before.

"Ye-ah." He stuttered, not being able to hold your gaze this time.

He felt bad for being turned on so easily, feeling the blood rush downwards.

"What did you think of, while jerking off, huh? And look at me." The smirk plastered on your lips made him quiver in arousel.

"I, uh, I thought of you, y/n. Only you, your body is so perfect, there's not a thing in this world that makes me feel the things your body does." He admitted shyly.

"Interesting, so you're still the little slut I remember. You probably still have a higher sex drive than iq, isn't that right?" You were definitely teasing him now, and he couldn't do anything about it except hoping you wouldn't notice the boner forming in his jeans.

"Idk! I- I haven't had sex in a while."

You were impressed how corrupted he still felt because of you, but also quite proud.

"Right. Probably the reason why you're already having a painful looking boner right now." You let out a small laugh before taking you hand to his face and caressing his soft cheek.

Rafe panicked, scared this was the last straw because he couldn't think of anything but you touching him in the moment.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-" You hushed him then, putting a finger on his slightly pouty lips.

"Sshh. Do you want to be touched?" You whispered in a seductive way.

He could only nod frantically due to your finger silencing him.

"Then I suppose we're done here. Go find someone that touches you, Rafe." Your expression changing immediately, just as his.

The excitement in his eyes go lost again, feeling not only humbled but also he was getting robbed of the possibility getting the only thing he wanted.

You took you hands off of him.

"What? Are you gonna cry again? I thought this is what you wanted." You played dumb.

"No! I don't wanna leave. I'm sorry for being so... aroused. You don't have to touch me, I just wanna stay a bit longer, please?" He was a mess by now, you could tell, just were you wanted to have him.

"Let me think... if you stop being so greedy and start doing what I tell you, you can stay. But only for one night, Ben's coming over tomorrow." The last sentence hit him hard, he had to gulp down that information.

"Is he your boyfriend now?" He wanted to know.

Was he fucking you, was he enjoying doing things to you that he wasn't allowed to think about anymore?

"Would you have a problem with that, Cameron?" You were getting angry again, he knows he shouldn't have asked.

"Yes! You're still mine, y/n. I don't want him to touch you!" But apparently he didn't know how to stop being greedy.

Suddenly he could feel your hand on top of his bulge, groaning in absolute agony. God, he almost forgot how heavenly you could make him feel.

"I. Am. Not. Yours. Rafe! You're so damn lucky that Ben isn't my boyfriend yet. I could touch you all over and leave you, begging to come." You dominance made him whine.

Rafe didn't feel so turned on in what felt like years after your fight.

"Please do something, y/n. Please!" He was fighting the urge to buck his hips against your hand, but he knew he wouldn't get anything at all if he did.

"Move your hips then. I won't do anything for an asshole like you are."

He immediately did, ignoring your insult, moving uncoordinated just to chase any form of friction against his straining dick.

"Oh, you are desperate, aren't you?" You laughed softly.

"More. Please, more y/n!" He wanted to grip your shoulders so bad.

You took his hand and guided it to you breasts letting him squeeze one of it sensually. With your other hand you squeezed him tightly, making him a desperate moaning mess.

"Thank you! Thank you, y/n!" He breathed out.

You two stayed like this for a minute before you could tell he was getting near the edge. One more squeeze and you let go of him, also taking his hand off your chest. Rafe let out a beautiful whine shortly before falling tears.

"It hurts, y/n." He cried, looking at you with pain filled eyes.

"Now you know how it feels. You deserve this, Rafe. Because you don't know how to follow some simple rules." You explained sharply.

"I'm sorry." After that he cried into his hands, realizing how bad his situation really was.

"Maybe you should go before it gets too late." Although you didn't like seeing him so miserable, you knew if he was able to endure this for just a little longer, you were willing to take him back.

"But- but you said I could stay for the night." He whined once again, finally looking at you.

"Well, I changed my mind."

Rafe let his head hung low again, not being surprised but still feeling his heart scrunch in pain.

"I hope you're not thinking that if you'd stay I would let you come. Because I won't for a very long time. Additionally to that you won't touch yourself or me, unless I give you permission. If you break my rule, you know what happens, Rafey, no chances for you left then. Decide for yourself if you want it to be Ben instead of you who's getting jerked off by me." Not a single emotion that you granted him to see on your face, he knew you were dead serious.

"How... long?" He asked carefully.

"I'm gonna tell you when the time has come. Now get home and remember my rules when you arrive, baby." You let your hand run through his hair, letting him enjoy this short moment of softness and care.

"Okay. Goodbye, y/n. I love you." He said before he disappeared behind closed door.

And the next morning was torturous, waking up with a boner that practically begged for a release and at the same time the guilt he had that ate him up everytime he thought about how much he'd hurt you.

Rafe didn't know when he was supposed to meet you again or if he had been completely played by you and he was never gonna get the relief he wished for so badly.

Besides that he was feeling awfully jealous. This Ben guy was probably at your place right now, getting to do everything he wasn't allowed to. Let alone him being able to see and touch you in response had him balling his fists with rage.

But, he has got to wait for you, and he was so thankful for yesterday, he didn't expect you to grant him so much pleasure.

••••••••

Although, after three days he began to worry you had been bored a little and decided to only act like you were looking forward to giving him another chance the other day.

He was currently driving on his boat around the coast with a friend he met in school, one of the good guys, because he knew it was game over if he would get involved with bad influences again.

They agreed on driving to the harbour, to get something from the shops nearby.

Walking through the shop, already having lost his friend in the process, Rafe saw his now rival, Ben.

He knew better than to approach him and start a fight, but unfortunately Ben was already walking towards him, watching Rafe intently while having a playful smirk on his lips.

When the moment came and they stood face to face, Rafe wasn't scared of getting physically hurt because he was basically already used to it, but he was scared to play his last card that could get him to win you back. For sure you wouldn't even look his way anymore if he would now abuse your little wannabe boyfriend in any way.

"Aren’t you y/n's ex? Heard a lot about you." Ben began the conversation.

"Yeah, I am. Is there a problem?" Rafe tried to be as kind as possible, concentrating to not give in to the urche of absolutely destroying the boy infront of him.

"Nah, man. Just wanted to get to know you before I steal your girl." Oh and with that he almost had him, fighting with himself if he should punch him right now or not.

Calculating that, it wouldn’t be much of a genius idea, so he let it be, although he was very close to making that mistake.

Rafe pressed his lips together in order to shut himself so he wouldn't say something that you'd make him regret. Looking blantly at Ben, not knowing what he was expecting him to say or do.

"Anyways, I'll get going, was nice meeting you..." He then drifted off, leaving Rafe and his thoughts alone who wondered where you'd be if Ben was here aswell.

He shook his head to get out of his mind again, finding it a bit weird how Ben had approached him. Literal scumbags must be your type, otherwise, why would you hang out with him, let alone date this guy? He couldn't find any logical answer to that so he began searching for the friend he came with in the first place.

Driving back to his place, Rafe's friend began talking to him about something that kind of peeked his interest.

"You know, there's this party tomorrow at some Resort here, I wondered if you'd go with me and some other friends of mine?"

At first he thought it was just another boring party like some he used to go to, and since he wasn't into those partys anymore since you broke up with him and he blocked Topper and all the other dicks, he almost brushed it off. Before he could, his friend added something that changed his mind entirely.

"Y/n will be there aswell as far as I know. You're friends, right?" He didn't know that you were actually his ex and far more than just a friend.

"Oh, yeah yeah, I know her. I'll go with you, why not?" He just pretended.

"Awesome!"

•••••••

The party was quite nice, the music on full blast, people being more open minded and talkative because they already had something to drink and not so much of these wannabe cool addict kids, like he once was.

Though, he wasn't really feeling it anyways, he was just staying so he could see you and maybe even talk to you. Of course, his new and much nicer friends were also there but he just acted like he was interested in what they were saying really.

One or two hours passed and finally, Rafe almost choked as he saw how beautiful you looked, a black silk dress hugging your body, just like a glove. You looked extraordinary and definitely were the eye catcher of this party. He honestly couldn't believe you were once going out with him.

"Dayum, you should introduce me to her sometime, Rafe." Some guy that he barely even knew hit his shoulder playfully.

He just shot him a glare and remained silent, watching how you moved passed all these people, how you held your glass of champagne, how your smile lit up the whole place.

When he realised someone snaked their hand around your waist and whispered something in you ear, flirting, and that one being Ben, his jealousy grew excessively in no time.

"Why are all the good ones taken man?" Someone in his group cursed.

"She's not taken, they aren't dating." Rafe replied dryly.

"Well what's he doing with her then? Being all touchy and stuff..."

"They don't match, she deserves better than him." He couldn't hold himself back from saying that out loud.

"Agreed." The others nodded.

--

Rafe tried not to stare at you the whole time, though it turned out to be quite difficult.

Fast forward, he and his friends had gone inside for some more drinks, but he just needed a time out for a moment so he searched for the bathroom.

Being done with that he exited the men's room. You awaited him and shoved him against the wall a bit.

"There you are, I was waiting to have a more private setting so I could just play with you some more." Your voice made him feel wobbly instantly, it sounded so sweet and rich of confidence, addictive.

Rafe looked at you with big eyes not having expected you to bless him with your direct presence today. His heart tripped just so it could beat two times faster than before as he locked eyes with you.

"Actually I've come to say..." You let go of him suddenly and he missed your touched the very second later, holding in a whine.

"You don't need to be jealous anymore, I'm breaking it off with Ben. I know you two met yesterday and he was dumb enough to tell me what he said to you. I'm proud of you for not punching him and keeping you mouth shut like a good boy. I shall reward you for that. Tell me what do want, Rafey?"

He was absolutely speechless, he couldn't believe his luck.

But you were getting impatient after some time that he didn't give you answer.

"Come on. You can use your words, before I change my mind."

"Take me back, please?"

"Don't you think that's a bit too much to ask? I thought you'd come up with something like a kiss... but I'm sure it would be good enough to watch me dumping the only other guy that could potentially fuck me, wouldn't it?" You just enjoyed playing with him too much.

"Yes, that's fine." Rafe answered but let his head hung low a bit in disappointment of his unfulfilled wish.

You faked some sympathy and gave his biceps a squeeze with your hand. The contact gave him butterflies.

"Don't be sad, darling. The day might never come, but that's alright, because I'll always have you by my side anyways. Isn't that right?"

Oh you were being so mean to him, his breathing stopped as he realised what you just said. His ribcage began to sting and his heart made jump after jump.

"I'm so sorry, y/n. I s- swear I love you and I didn't m-mean any of those things to happen. I didn't want to hurt you-" He fumbled with his words but you interrupted him like the devil you decided to be.

"Yeah, you just didn't care enough in the first place. You didn't give two fucks about the dates I planned for us, because I loved you and wanted to spend time with you. Rafe, you didn't even care about our anniversarys. The only thing you cared to attend to were those stupid ass partys to get your nose in some poorly manufactured coke. I sometimes thought you hated it so much being with me that's why you would always get yourself something to stay high."

God it hurt. It pained so badly to hear you talking about how you had loved him, past tense. Rafe just wanted to crush his head and destroy all those awful emotions he was feeling just now.

"No, no no no no. Y/n I-" He attempted but broke down crying midsentence, trying to wipe away his tears, but they wouldn't stop flowing.

"Stop, you're not making it better. I know it hurts, Rafe. I've been going through it for months before I broke up with you. I know what I'm making you feel like right now, and although I don't particularly enjoy watching you suffer, I just stopped caring. You stopped caring for me a long time ago. You had to loose me to know what you've broken. And I should better stop talking now. Sorry, I should go. Didn't mean to let it go this way. Have a nice rest evening, Cameron. Hope you dream of me." You winked at him, like he wouldn't be fighting with himself so he doesn't end up crumbling on the floor.

"Y/n, wait!" He shouted as loud as he could before you'd disappear again.

You slowly turned around, looking at him sweetly but expectantly.

"I love you, you know that? I do care, I promise, give me crumbs and I'll give you everything I have. I won't give up. You mean so much to me." His voice was weak but you heard him and you found satisfaction in the way he was so eager to win you back, you were almost considering to take the deal.

You got a little closer again, so you could hold that eye contact better.

"You're cute. Thank you, I know you care darling, look at you, you're a mess just because of me, and still you want me back? That adorable. I'm gonna keep you. As long as I got nothing else to do at least. I'll give you some attention every now and then. But you're gonna have to wait a little, I'm not going to praise you for nothing."

"Okay, yes. That's okay. I will wait as long as it takes." He nodded.

♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

Let me know if you want a part two pls & ty

[sugoi-and-spice]

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Chapter Twenty-Five - Leap Without Looking

Summary: Tomura Shigaraki was her dad’s boss’s son. He was the creep that stole girls’ underwear and tried to grope her in his room. But it’s not like he could get her Dad fired just because she wouldn’t sleep with him, right? …right?

CW: Quirkless!AU, Explicit Smut, Dub-Con, Coercion, Blackmail, Cheating, Sexual Guilt, Humiliation, Unhealthy Relationships, Virginity Kink, Groping, Power Play, Hate to Love, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Animal Death, Slow Burn, Misogyny

Notes: Happy 2024 friends! We have officially crossed the 600 page threshold with this fic and my husband has informed me that in that amount of words, I could've finished three novels by now... I think I've spent my time wisely on this xD

Anyway, thanks as always for following the progress of my long-ass, over-emotional dub-con fic!

Read Full Chapter on AO3

[excerpt]

What was she doing? No seriously, what the hell was she doing?

That’s all she could think as she paced anxiously in her living room. She hadn’t even planned on calling Shigaraki, her fingers had just moved before her brain could. She’d been so worried about leaving him hanging the way she had at the arcade, that he was going to do something drastic, she knew she needed to get back to him as soon as possible. That action, she didn’t kick herself too much for.

But then he had texted her.

Shigaraki

[on the train]

[b @ ur place in 20]

She should’ve corrected him. Told him to meet her at a restaurant or a train station or a diner. Wait, yeah! A diner! That’s what she’d told him earlier, they’d go to a diner! A public, safe place that would pose a much lower risk of clothes being lost (although, not a zero chance, she admitted bitterly as she remembered one of their last serious talks over dinner). 

But no, she’d been too preoccupied trying to work out what to say, that when she’d finally gotten her head put on straight, about fifteen minutes later, she’d found a new reason to lose it. Tomura Shigaraki was going to be in her house, in the middle of the night, when her parents weren’t home. 

Nevermind the rather important question regarding how exactly he knew her address already, just what expectation was she setting with that?! Especially right after telling him that she and Mirio broke up. There’s no way Tomura Shigaraki of all people was coming over with anything other than sex on the brain. 

All of the fully rehearsed words she’d had suddenly didn’t feel sufficient anymore. This was way more serious than she was ready for. It was all happening way too fast. She didn’t even know what she wanted. She hadn’t even had the courage to fully admit to herself that she had very serious feelings for him, didn’t even know if she wanted to date him, so just what the hell was she supposed to say now in her house?!

Her heart just about beat out of her chest when the doorbell rang. That terrible cheerful little jingle that signaled the demise of her self-control. What was going to happen when she opened that door? How could she stop whatever he tried to make happen?

Especially when it was something she deep down really wanted to happen.

Luckily, she didn’t have to think of a solution. Because when she opened the door, she did not find Tomura Shigaraki holding flowers or video games or ready to sweep her off her feet (and into her bed). She saw him instead, hunched over panting, soaked to the bone, and not wearing shoes.

“O-Oh my god!” she practically shrieked.

“I didn’t bring anything,” was all he managed to say through heaving breaths. 

As if she would’ve expected him to bring a home gift under normal circumstances, let alone when he was hunched over and dripping onto her welcome mat.

She huffed in confused exasperation and pulled him into the house by the front of his sopping wet shirt, “Get in here right now!”

“W-Wow. It’s warm…” he muttered, looking around the living room in a daze as she closed the front door behind him.

“Yeah, I’m sure!” she snapped, “What happened to you?!”

“You said you wanted to talk in person.”

“So what, you ran all the way from Roppongi?!” she demanded.

He looked away, a blush dusting his cheeks, “I took the train too…”

She shook her head in disbelief, “You’re not even wearing shoes…”

Before he could say anything more, embarrassing himself further, she pressed a hot hand to his neck with a quickness that had him shuttering out a sigh. But she didn’t notice what she was doing to him. 

(She never truly did, did she?)

“Oh my God, you’re freezing!” she grabbed his shirt suddenly again, this time pulling it straight up over his head, “Take these off— take them off now!”

It all happened too fast for either of them to really process or be embarrassed about. She peeled his clothes off piece by piece, all while shoving him frantically down the ever-warmening hallway of her home. At some point he blinked and found himself stripped down completely and standing alone in the middle of her bathroom, fluffy beige towel in hand.

Shigaraki blinked as he finally had a coherent thought for what seemed like the first time in the last five hours. That thought being that when he’d pictured himself naked in her house, this is not the way he’d thought it’d go. 

He looked around the room, still in a bit of a daze. It was a typical Japanese bathroom, a nice one, he supposed, with its auto-filling tub and real tile, notably not laminate. But it was cozy (the nice way of saying small) and the only one for the whole household. The whole house seemed to be that way, from the quick glimpse he saw of it all. Simple, modest, warm. Quite a difference from his own luxurious and picture-perfect, but admittedly cold household. 

It surprised him a bit, the modest part. Though maybe it shouldn’t have. The more he learned about her and her family, the clearer it was that maybe she wasn’t as overtly privileged as he’d once assumed, as he was used to. Sure her family was comfortable, but there was a much wider gap between them, the family that packed onigiri and Don Quixote-purchased lawn chairs for swim meets, and he who had a Kurogiri at his every beck and call.

By the time he got to running his fingers along her slew of floral body washes and shampoos, he couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh over the situation. The ridiculousness of it all. How panicked he’d been, how undoubtedly panicked she’d been waiting for him. How all of it seemed to go instantly out the window the moment she saw him and had something all new to worry over. No, not just something. Someone. Him. Him and his well-being. 

Well wasn’t that something new.

Continue on AO3

[twinsunstars]

Thoughts on The Bad Batch Episode 10 - Identity Crisis - A Discussion Post

I expected almost nothing that happened in this episode, I was bewildered. Let's return back to the special episode centered around our dear Emerie.

(SPOILERS IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE EPISODES YET! all screencaps from www.cap-that.com! https://www.cap-that.com/starwars/the-bad-batch/310/)

The episode opens in a town market, where a mom (or dad? I'm not sure) and their baby are out shopping. The baby lost its toy for a few seconds and started freaking out. Once it used the Force to throw a plant pot to try and find its toy, I started freaking out because this kid is going to eventually be taken by the Empire sadly. Everyone around saw, and the mom quickly hurried away with her baby after finding its toy. One individual who saw the scene ends up contacting a bounty hunter.

Before I get back to the episode, can I just say how pretty Mount Tantiss is? It's such a dark place inside, but its exterior landscape is stunning. When it was shown during an episode when it was sunny on the planet it is on, it looked even more beautiful.

Okay, back to the episode. Once the plot navigates back to Mount Tantiss, we see Hemlock in front of a giant cylinder that is hiding something. He walks out of the same room that CX-2 had been standing in front of behind Crosshair back in Episode 3, and I felt like whoever the CX clone is is the one being kept in there. But maybe we'll see.

Emerie comes by with Commander Scorch (which I am so happy that he got name dropped this episode) and tells Hemlock that Project Necromancer's progress is slowing down. She expresses a desire to take Nala Se's place and oversee the project, which Hemlock decides to agree to after consideration.

Hemlock takes Emerie to the same place he went with Nala Se earlier in the season, ready to show Emerie the vault. I was expecting this dark room with red lighting that was full of cylinders carrying specimen for experiments, but I wasn't fully ready for a brightly lit room that has a few little children given some games to keep them company. It's the Clone Wars pain all over again when they were taking Force-sensitive kids.

Emerie asks, "Why children?" I felt like her eyes are now starting to very slowly open up to the Empire's horrors, but it will take her a long while, especially when she was raised by Hemlock and feels like everything around her is right.

One of the little girls comes up to Emerie and says she likes her glasses, and Emerie wants to connect with her, which Hemlock restricts her from doing. One of the kids closely watches Hemlock input a code using his datapad to open up a door, and makes sure that he remembers what to do, finding a way to escape. All of the kids look so tired and sad while playing with the games that they were given, it really breaks my heart.

It's not a scene where a Force-sensitive kid is taken by a bounty hunter without Cad Bane, who finally shows up for his cameo. He, along with his droid Todo, tests the baby from earlier for its M-count and takes them to drop off to the Empire.

Emerie goes to see Eva, the little girl who had spoken to her earlier. The kids continue to have their blood tested regularly, and Eva enjoys talking to Emerie. She asks about Nala Se and where she has been, as Emerie tells her that Nala Se is no longer in charge of the project. Eva had asked Nala Se to help her find out when she'll be going home, and Emerie says that she'll try to look into it.

Going to see Jax next, he manages to steal Emerie's datapad from her and make a run to the same spot where he had seen Hemlock input some code using his datapad. The others around manage to lock down the room before Jax could get access and escape. Jax just wants to go home and tries to sprint from the troopers that show up, but Scorch manages to stun him. Emerie did not want Scorch to stun him, but he was following orders.

We got to know the names of two of the kids, but I wonder who this little sweetie in the room is. I wanna give her a hug; I want to give all of the kids a hug.

Emerie goes to visit Nala Se, who finds out that Emerie has taken her place and has seen the kids. Emerie expresses what she's feeling about the kids, as they're children just like she was. She asks Nala Se, "Was your plan to discard them too?" From this, I'm guessing that Emerie was likely neglected by Nala Se, as Omega was the female clone that Nala Se kept more close to her. Based on my guess, Emerie was likely cast aside by the Kaminoans, which is probably why she trusts Hemlock because he took her in and Emerie feels more important rather than a girl who was neglected by the people who created her. Emerie feels that she can't do anything about the kids, but Nala Se tells her that she probably could. I'm really curious as to what Emerie will end up doing in the next episodes.

Emerie bumps into Hemlock and Scorch after leaving Nala Se, who tells her that a new specimen will be coming today. Emerie wishes to go with Scorch to pick up the specimen, but Hemlock becomes reluctant and tells her no. It's likely that Emerie hasn't been outside Mount Tantiss without him, so he doesn't want her going alone, even if she's with soldiers. When a trooper arrives and tells Hemlock that Tarkin wants to speak with him, he leaves and lets Emerie do whatever she wants.

Tarkin talks to Hemlock about the amount of money that is being used for Project Necromancer, as he wishes to know why they need so much. Hemlock refuses to tell anything about the project to Tarkin, as all the details are classified. I was surprised that even Tarkin was kept out of this project, and this is the Emperor's personal project. Tarkin could likely try to do the same that happened with Thrawn's TIE Defender project and try to shut Project Necromancer down so all of the money they have can be used for the Death Star.

Also, is it just me, or did Hemlock seem more expressive in this scene? I don't know how to explain this, but it's what was going on in my mind when I first saw the episode. Normally, his voice sounds more lower and quieter (which is literally what makes him sound so scary), but while he was talking to Tarkin, he sounded anxious and his voice sounded a little more louder. I don't know, it's hard to explain. Would love to hear your thoughts.

Hemlock contacts CX-2, who tells him that he has received some intel from a Trandoshan-who is likely Cid. If this clone really is Tech, that would be crazy since he possibly threatened her for the intel. Hemlock seems to grow frustrated and tells CX-2 not to return without Omega.

Meanwhile, Emerie goes with Scorch to retrieve the specimen from Cad Bane. When Emerie sees the little baby, her eyes grow wide, and Cad Bane notices her discomfort. He gets paid and the troopers take the baby, while Emerie is left with her thoughts.

While checking up on the kids and before lights go out, Emerie finds out that Jax was put into a two-day isolation as punishment for trying to escape, and Eva is upset about it. Emerie tries to be gentle with her, but all Eva wants is to just go home.

Emerie sits near the blood circle machine, continuing to oversee it. She sits in silence, going through each kid's file. Omega comes up, and I can tell that she misses her.

While thinking of Omega, she is reminded of the straw Lula that Omega had made, and Emerie had kept it with her in secret. She leaves it with Eva, who discovers it the next morning. Eva picks up the straw Lula and loves her, and Emerie watches with a proud smile. She looks so confident here; I keep wondering what her role will be in the next episodes, and I hope she gets out of here as soon as possible too.

I love how Lula has become symbolized here, as she started with being a comfort toy for Wrecker and later on Omega, and now Lula has begun to comfort other kids as well that are going through pain.

It'll take a while for Emerie to open her eyes and realize everything around her, but it's starting and she'll soon likely rebel. I loved this episode and the focus it gave Emerie. I'm looking forward to seeing more of her in the next 4 episodes.

[xuchiya]

"Chapter 10: My biker bodyguard" || kang yeosang [a mini-series]

|| next: Epilogue || if you haven't read the previous chapter, here's the masterlist.

genre: non!idol yeosang. fluff. angst. violence. mentions: gun. knives. attempt murder/kidnapping. blood. anxiety attack.

"my lady as much as I want to drive that ... chariot as our runaway vehicle ... you're on your own."

"KANG YEOSANG?!"

The city lights blur into streaks as the car speeds through the streets, your heart pounding in your chest. You glanced nervously at the driver, a stranger whose face is hidden beneath a dark cap and sunglasses. Your heart hammers when you notice the car entering the highway.  Panic starts to bubble up inside you.

“Please where are you taking me? Do you need anything? I can help … just please don’t harm me or anyone.” You demand, your voice trembling despite your attempt to sound strong. The driver ignored you as they steered away from the city, you wiped your tongue on your quivering, dry lips as your hope to talk them out didn’t work like how it works in the movies.

“If you do not speak, I'll sue you for a lifetime!” The driver remains silent, eyes fixed on the road. The car weaves through traffic with alarming speed, heading towards the outskirts of the city. You try the door handle, but it's locked from the inside. Your phone, in your pocket, offers little comfort—you're too scared to risk making a call that might provoke your captor. But how will they react? They can’t kill you just right there on the spot unless he was ordered to do it but it is impossible for them to do it because whoever is behind this needed you alive.

You flip your phone up, pressing the dial tone of Seonghwa until you hear a gun firing safety-pin off and tip compress coldly on your forehead, “If I were you, cooperate and you’ll live.” Hearing a raspy and hoarse voice, you glance to see the front sight of the gun in between your eyebrows. One hand steering the wheel while their left hand is crossover holding the gun.

As the car races past unfamiliar landmarks, you piece together fragments of what happened. The chaos in the boardroom, the gas filling the air, the stranger leading you out amidst the confusion. You remember thinking they were a bodyguard, but now it’s clear they were part of the plan to abduct you.

But where were Seonghwa? The rest of his divisions? Were they harmed too? Were they ambushed too?

Your heart races by the thought of their fate. Panic grips your chest, making it hard to breathe. You clutch your phone tightly, trying to steady your shaking hands. "Please, God," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Let them be okay. Seonghwa, Yeosang, dad... Please, let them be safe. I can't lose them. Not like this."

Your breaths come in short, sharp gasps as you struggle to calm yourself. "I should have been more careful. I should have seen this coming. Why didn't I see this coming?" Tears blur your vision as the fear and guilt threaten to overwhelm you. "What if they're hurt because of me? What if... no, I can't think like that. I have to stay strong. For them."

You wipe your tears away, forcing yourself to take deeper breaths. "Seonghwa is strong. He knows how to handle this. Yeosan—he’s a fighter. Dad … oh God dad. They'll find a way out. I have to believe that. I have to believe they're okay."

In the silence of the car, your whispered prayers and desperate reassurances are the only sounds, a fragile attempt to hold on to hope amidst the fear threatening to consume you. 

You glance out the window, recognizing the industrial area you're now in. The car slows and turns into the driveway of a dilapidated warehouse. Your breath quickens, adrenaline surges through your veins, the car door opens making you yelp in surprise—dropping your phone in progress and the image of a big guy— like literally big— that he could not fit inside the car and took your wrist tightly, yanking you outside. 

“AGH!” With the harsh tug of your arm, your knee scrapes on the concrete below. Your noise did not phase the big guy and yank you up on your feet— dragging you towards a warehouse. 

The warehouse is decrepit, its age evident in the crumbling walls and rusted metal beams. The air is thick with the smell of mold and decay, mixed with the acrid scent of old machinery. Dim, flickering lights barely illuminate the space, casting eerie shadows that dance along the walls. You can hear the scurrying of rats in the corners, their eyes glinting in the darkness. The floor is littered with debris and patches of stagnant water, adding to the overall sense of neglect and desolation.

  And in the middle, your heart fell in the pit of your stomach. You were greeted by Daniel, sitting on a leather single seat surrounded by his men. One leg over the other as he waits , the big guy throws you on the floor just by his foot. His smug smile sends a chill down your spine. The sight of him, flanked by a group of imposing men, confirms your worst fears.

Daniel leans forward uncrossing his legs, his polished appearance starkly contrasting the dilapidated surroundings. His voice is laced with mockery as he addresses you, taking a handful of your hair making you wince as he tilts your head , "Welcome to your new home, cousin. Quite the step down from your fancy manor, isn't it?"

The revelation hits you hard making your eyes widen in horror and surprise. "Cousin... you're my cousin?"

Daniel laughs bitterly, shaking his head. "Well... not entirely. We share the same great-grandfather, but the lineage diverges from there. My grandfather was supposed to be the rightful heir, but your family took everything. Favoritism runs deep, doesn't it?"

“You were outside the family tree?”

He sneered, his tight grip on your hair became stronger; bad move for making him angry which makes your hairline turn red and painful, “My family is supposed to be part of this tree. He didn’t want us to be part of it and excluded us.” You shake your head, not quite grasping his logic.

“Our great grandfather had an affair outside. He did not include my grandfather in this hierarchy when we are supposed to be!” Daniel yelled in your face, his breathing ragged from anger. “He turned his back on us because “wanted to keep things at bay”.” 

 “Great grandfather only wanted the pure ones. Not the half.” You spoke but that triggered something inside Daniel; pulling out his hand gun and pressing it on your temple.

“You are just like him! Selfish and cold-hearted! He left all of us in the trash and starving and now …” He rather pushes you off as he leans backwards on his seat, “You’ll be in there too with your family after I finish all of these plans I had for all of you.” he signals his big guy, you were once again yanking up back to your feet and slamming you down on a chair, in front of you a poorly crafted table with a paper on top.

Reading the first lines you shake your head, “To stand down and give all the inheritance? Are you insane?!” Even in the situation, you felt anger. You have worked yourself way up to a certain goal with your blood, sweat and tears. You had sacrificed so many things to achieve these, your mental health, physical and almost your insanity was also in the line but you held on because you have love and grown to balance this business in your hands while maintaining a life you have.

You won’t easily give away even if you end up with bruises or wounds— you’ll fight.

  "What is this, Daniel?" He chuckles, standing up on his seat, he walks towards you. He places his palm flatly on the table, looking at you with a snicker smile. "Oh, it’s quite simple, dear cousin. Once you sign this, I’m taking control of the corporation. And unfortunately for you, you have to be  removed from the equation. Permanently."

Your hands curl deeply inside your palm, drawing blood in the process and shapes of crescent craved on your smooth skin. Unable to control your anger, you spat at him; your spit landing just around his cheek. 

“You psycho.” Your words are filled with venom. The nice and kind you were out of the window the moment you saw nothing but anger. Daniel chuckles dryly, wiping the spit with the back of his hand before staring at you; eyes blazing inimical.

“You want to play the hard way? I guess you like it that way, my Lady.” Daniel leans back, straightening his back, signalling his men to take you and drags you towards three big blue drum buckets filled with water— whether it be clean or not— one of his men took the back of your head, they leaned closer to your ear, “Just sign and you’ll be back at your sweet papa.”

You fought off from their hold but you knew better that they are stronger than you—not even with your hands tied behind your back, you gritted your teeth, “Never.” They shrug nonchalantly, “Suit yourself Lady.”

Before you know it, they dunk your head in the water. Muffled screams, bubbles coming from your mouth flowed up as your lungs slowly burned from the lack of oxygen, you started squirming on their hold before pulling you back up. You gasp, inhaling and exhaling deeply not even a minute of you being able to collect as much air, you were dunked once again.

The actions continued until you were drenched from head down to your waist, you found yourself coughing out water, noses clogged and so did your ears. Your body was shivering from the sudden drop of temperature, you scoot far away from them yet some of his men took you by the arms and pulled you up.

“How’s the swim? Oh sorry, I should have warned you first. So will you sign it? Come on, you should give in now~ you’re weak and all so it’s easy to break you.” Daniel spoke, hands on his knees as he watched you slowly drifting on and off consciously. 

Daniel took your face in his hand, squishing your cheeks together as he pulled your face near his, “Give up now. This place? No one knows, not even this province knows a part of this place exists.”

With a little left of strength inside you, you found yourself snickered looking at him through your hazy eyes, “So .. So what? Gonna kill me? You won’t … even if I die, you won’t be bale to overtake it.”

“Duh unless you signed that then we’re on the same page.” You wheezed, “Oh Daniel I love how greedy you are.”

Daniel chuckles dryly, shaking your head in his hands with a mocking pout, “Yeah I’m greedy so what? That's funny cousin really…” His men laughs, Daniel sighs, looking deeply in your eyes, “I could dump your body here, leave it to rot and to never see again.”

You scoff, not an ounce of your body fighting the tiredness slowly creeping up to you. You look up to Daniel, your eyes losing its focus as his figure doubles but you keep fighting, you have to.

 “Such a scene … you found this on Netflix? What drama is it?” Daniel glances at you oddly, his grip on your cheeks tighten, the insides of your cheeks almost close to touching on how deep he is holding you close, “I do not have time for drama and this is precisely the closest thing I could do to make you beg for your life so now, let’s make this quick and painless shall we?” You chuckle, leaning more than you could, the space between you closing in a small space, your breath shortens each time you glance around not looking him in the eye. Your boost of confidence and snarky remarks were only doing you a job to keep him in bay,  “Is that what you want me to do? Beg? Panic?”

“Like this? ‘Oh Why Daniel? Oh why betray us? You were a good friend, you took me to dinner and called me beautiful only to find out you’re my cousin … which is by the way disgusting unless you’re into that stuff …”  

His eyes harden and so does his grip on your face before pushing your head back. Grunting, he turns around, “So annoying … I could put a bullet through that brain of yours!”

You snicker, your head falling to one side then downward before snapping back up to him, “Go ahead! I am free anyway!” Daniel had an eccentric facial expression that glancing at you had brought some kind of peculiarity in his brain.

He glanced at his men and they seemed to be in a state of shock and bizarre, he checked the bullet of his russian roulette; there are only two bullets. It is always two, unlike any other belief in lucky numbers— he believes in the luck of number 2. 

Snapping back the russian roulette, he walks towards you. Daniel originally targets your father— closest to taking down your sister— until he gets the report from his spy that you were indeed the heir of the corporation. It took him years to study, to plot and to choreograph all of his actions and the promise he has to accomplish for his mother.

His grip on guns tightens,remembering how cruel he has to grow up with nothing in their hands. Mud and pieces of grain rice is where he lived and grew up to— he had to sacrifice himself for his family. They were forgotten and they weren’t even included in the name of De Villalobos clan. They were an outsider.

He remembers that his grandfather begged for mercy for the clan to accept them. Daniel only wishes to be accepted as to be part of the family, to be part of the clan and to help his half-cousins or relatives on their business because he believes that family is your only haven against the society. So he gave them evidence, although they were met with a shut door. They were called a fraud— they called his family a fraud in front of thousands of people when their evidence was “fabricated”. 

That day,  Daniel swore to his family that he would take all of the clan down and pay for what embarrassment they had done. 

Daniel raised the gun right at your forehead, “It would be easier if you just signed them but well since you choose the hard way, we could just chop off your thumb and sign it as that.” He shrugs his shoulders before resting his forefinger on the trigger, “Bye-bye Lady … nice knowing you.”

As the trigger pulls, the sound of the bullet firing echoes the entire warehouse although, it didn’t come from the hands of your captor rather it came out as a hiss of pain and his hands were filled with his blood, dripping down his forearm down to the floor. Daniel clutched his injured forearm to his chest as his men were now on full alert, some were covering him as they assisted him out of the warehouse.

The rest of his men charged in action, the two men holding you dragged you out of the warehouse before they could catch up with Daniel, they were knocked off by Seonghwa’s men— Yunho and San.

“Lady!” San picks you up and rushes towards the entrance yet his plan is tackled to the ground— literally. You rolled off to the side, propping yourself up with your forearms when you noticed Daniel’s men were fighting him, two versus one. You groan, your bones aching and body almost paralyzed from the past hour event but you don’t want to be a burden so you fight yourself up.

“Go Lady! I got this!” You exhaled, looking at the exit then back to San. San groaned, turning to you, “Don’t worry! Yeosang is by the entrance! Go!” You nodded, still reluctant but you continued your way out. In the chaos, you make your way towards the exit. Yunho catches your eye, giving you a nod of reassurance as he takes down one of the men. Amidst the clamor, you see Daniel making a desperate attempt to escape— his men nowhere to be seen. Even though your situation doesn’t go far from his state but you still wanted to fight; you wouldn’t dare to hurt him.

It would not make you feel less better nor different from him. You wanted to know the truth, prevail justice for whatever your great-grandfather had done to his family. No matter what, Daniel is your half-cousin. With newfound courage, you chase after him, determined to see this through to the end. 

“Daniel!” You yelled. Stumbling on the dry grassy field, the pebbles were a big obstacle for your paralyzed body. Daniel raised his handgun and fired off, you yelled, falling on your knees as you covered your ears.

Daniel took this chance to run off further, limping as he was caught in the fire while escaping. His mind was racing to escape but he soon found himself trapped in getting away and getting caught; you were hot in his trail.

“Daniel, stop! please! I can help you!” Even the chaos happening inside the warehouse and the wind of August nipping at your cold skin, adding to the coldness is your wet clothes and the distant drip of water from the rusted pipes. The air was thick with the stench of mold and decay, a fitting backdrop for the final showdown. Daniel, despite trying his strength to escape; he found himself tripping on his own foot. 

 “Daniel please …" 

Your voice is steady despite the turmoil inside. "Why go through all this? I can help you—"

He laughed bitterly, the sound echoing off,  "You really don't get it, do you? Me? Asking for your help? I am not dumb! Trusting you or any of your clan is out of the list so my only plan is to take all of you down. We may share the same great-grandfather but your grandparents were all greedy. This was supposed to be a good family but this is utter bullshit!"

You took a step forward, anger and determination burning in your eyes. "But I am not like them! I stand as my own— just because I am a pure heir doesn’t mean I share the same actions as them. I’m always here to help Daniel, I want you to have the life you wish for your family, you said it yourself … we’re family—"

“No! Shut the fuck up! I would rather kill myself than ask for your help.” Daniel's eyes narrowed, and he pulled out a gun, aiming it directly at you. Out of a state of shock, you stumbled backwards. The chances of being his are low but never zero.

  "I've had enough of your self-righteousness. This ends now."

Before you could react, “Lady!" a loud voice booms across the field. Your head followed the voice and met with Yeosang.

Yeosang sprinted across the field, eyes wide with urgency, it felt like slow-motion was applied to the whole scene. The fiery red burst of Daniel’s handgun firing in a short speed as the bullet flies towards your direction. Yeosang who shifts his legs forward with every long inch he could get; the closer he gets, the faster he could protect you.

You shake your head when Yeosang finally reaches you, wrapping his arms around you as he barricades himself on to the upcoming flying bullet.

“NO! Yeosang!” 

Before the smoke bomb was sent inside the boardroom, Seonghwa and the rest of his division were faced with the same fate as Yeosang and Mingi— they were ambushed. His division was already alerted and fought hand to hand with the rest of Daniel’s men. They were slowly getting outnumbered as his men kept adding each time they knocked them down.

Seonghwa turns towards his division, “Die today and you were honored to protect the one who saved you from your misery.” They nodded at his words before taking them down one by one, Seonghwa darting towards Daniel. He went into hand to hand combat with a few of his men that were protecting Daniel. Sweat fell from his forehead down to his eyes until on his blind spot– one of Daniel’s men stood up holding what seems to be a baton and smacked the baton, smashing into pieces as it made contact on his back.

Seonghwa fell on his knees, wincing in utterly pain as he felt his entire back on fire, possibilities of splinters designing his back but he will not defy his enemies victory just like that so he pushed himself back up yet with his snail-actions caused him to delayed his plan, to which these men took advantage of his weakness and took hold of each of his arms. 

Men taking turns to plant a punch on Seonghwa before kicking the back of his knees as the final blow of their performance, taking hold of his shoulders. Seonghwa could hear the footsteps of Daniel coming closer and the sound of a gun cocking. His heart hammered in his chest as fear fathom washed down his senses yet his eyes held fierce and bravery, “Psycho.”

Daniel smiles emotionlessly, “Do better.”

Just in time, the elevator door opened— already making eye contact with Yeosang, Yunho and San,  “Hyung!”

Yeosang saw Daniel and instantly his face distorted to anger, “Fucking asshole!” 

Daniel clapped his hands, “That’s the spirit!”, raised his arms out with a mocking smile on his lips, “Welcome! You’re just in time for the final show.” 

With a gesture, Yunho and San were suddenly engaged in a fistfight, leaving Yeosang desperately trying to break through to reach Seonghwa. Each time a man fell, a new wave arrived, their grunts of exhaustion mingling with the chaos. Everything seemed to slow down. The world around Yeosang blurred, voices became muffled, a distant echo of reality. 

He saw Daniel chuckling dryly, spinning the Russian roulette in his right hand, the gold bullet catching the light in a chilling display. "You know," Daniel's voice sounded distorted, as if coming from underwater, "I'd love to put this gold bullet in your head for being a disgrace, but I'm saving it for my pretty lady." He slicked the bullet pocket in and placed it behind his pants, his movements exaggerated in the slow-motion haze, before grabbing the gun from one of his men.

Yeosang's heart pounded in his chest, the sound loud and slow in his ears. He could see Daniel aiming the gun, the barrel pointing menacingly at Seonghwa. Everything around him moved in a surreal, dream-like sequence.

Déjà vu washed over Yeosang. He was back in the same position, henchmen holding him down as they were forced to watch their leader take his last breath, just like their days protecting the late De Villalobos— the one who hand-picked his protection and saw beyond skills. Yeosang found himself fighting for his life just to save another— their leader, Captain Kim Hongjoong. 

 Ragged breaths as anxiety slowly creeps in his mind. He saw Hongjoong's face superimposed over Seonghwa, the scene playing out in agonizingly slow motion. Yeosang oh-so remember vaguely how he could see Hongjoong mouthing at them, “8 makes 1 team.” , with a bloody smile on his lips, to him as life left his eyes as a bullet were buried deep in his chest. Pools of his own blood surrounding him.

The memory hit him hard. It was as if time had folded in on itself, bringing back the haunting scene from their past. The same fear, the same desperation. The same drive to save someone he couldn’t afford to lose."No!" Yeosang's shout felt like it was coming from far away. 

 “Hyung!” Yeosang cried out, his voice cracking with the weight of his emotions. He pushed harder, fought more fiercely, the faces of Hongjoong and Seonghwa blending together in his mind. 

His body moved sluggishly, as if wading through water, trying to reach Seonghwa. The gunshot rang out, a deafening roar that shattered the slow-motion spell.  

"8 makes 1 team," Seonghwa mouthed, a faint smile on his bloody lips as his body, drawing strength from the words, from the memory, from the promise they had all made. Blood splattered, painting a gruesome picture as Seonghwa fell back, his body crumpling to the ground. A loud echoing thud rings in the ears of the trio. 

Yunho’s breath hitched, “H-hyung!” while San’s eyes widened in horror, “N-no! No hyung!”

"HYUNG!" Yeosang's scream pierced through the chaos, the world snapping back into real-time. Daniel smirked, his eyes glinting with malicious satisfaction, and turned towards his men who made a way for him to escape.

Yeosang, his breath coming in ragged gasps, knelt beside Seonghwa, pressing down on the wound on his stomach. "Hang on, hyung. Please, hang on." Blood slowly streamed out of Seonghwa’s uniform, staining Yeosang’s hands but he pushed it aside, doing his best he could to save him.

“Hyung don’t you dare close your eyes. I’m – I’m gonna smack you.''With a little bit of humor, Seonghwa chuckles even the tiniest bit of sound that made Yeosang hold on to the last of his hope. Soon, Yunho and San came to his side— Yunhu applied pressure on his wound, on top of Yeosang’s hands, “Hyung hold on… medics are coming!” 

With weak, bloody and shaking hands, Seonghwa gripped the hands on top of his wounds, “G-Go…” All of them, stubbornly, shake their heads. San sniffling, “We’re not leaving until they’re here …”

“S-She’s in danger … Go Yeosang.” Barely above whisper, Yeosang sobs. Tears blurred the face of his older brother, “I–I’m not leaving.” Seonghwa chuckles at what seems to be his last energy before looking at the trio with admiration. Glancing at Yunho, Yunho caught his eyes and leaned down, breath shaky, “You’re gonna be okay. A little more.”

 Seonghwa smiles, as slow as a snail but fragile like its shell, he slowly closes his eyes and heart soon beated its last pump. With the sudden still of Seonghwa’s chest, the trio panics and at the same time, the medics come rushing with Jongho trailing.

It dawned on Yeosang, “ANIYO~ HYUNG!” Yeosang's voice broke through the chaos, raw with desperation. Yunho stood up grabbing Yeosang in his arms as he struggled against the hold of Yunho, tears streaming down his cheeks as he watched the medics frantically work on Seonghwa. The defibrillator pads sent powerful jolts through Seonghwa's lifeless body, each shock a cruel reminder of the gravity of the situation.

“Weak pulse .. we’re losing him! Ready the defibrillator!”

“CLEAR!” The medic placed it on top of Seonghwa’s chest, watching it jolt upwards and falling lifelessly.

"No... no..." Yeosang's voice cracked, the words barely audible over the sound of his heart breaking. His hands, normally so steady, trembled uncontrollably by his sides. The sight of Seonghwa's motionless form, the way his body convulsed with each shock, tore at Yeosang's soul. His pleas, filled with an anguish that resonated deep within the hearts of everyone present, echoed through the entrance of the building.

“180 … CLEAR!”

"Please, wake up! Please hyung!" Yeosang sobbed, his voice hoarse and broken. The medics continued their attempts, their faces etched with determination and concern. Seonghwa's division formed a human barricade around the scene, their expressions grim as they watched their leader fight for his life.

San approached Yeosang cautiously, his own eyes wet with unshed tears. "Yeosang, Jongho is here. He’ll take care of Seonghwa-hyung. We have to proceed as planned. Seonghwa already gave us an opening." His voice was calm but firm, trying to reach through the fog of grief that enveloped Yeosang.

“Going higher … CLEAR!”

Yeosang's body trembled with the effort to stay upright, his mind torn between duty and the heart-wrenching sight before him. He glanced at Jongho, who was already working alongside the medics, his face set in a mask of focused determination. The sight of his friend's unwavering commitment brought a glimmer of hope, but it was drowned out by the overwhelming fear of losing Seonghwa.

“I can’t lose you too hyung…” Yeosang whispered, “I made a promise to Hongjoong-hyung.” Even in the midst of chaos happening, San managed to hear what he said; the tears in his eyes fell, turning around as he wiped the tears away. Yunho being the only pillar left for his younger brothers, he had to stay strong for them. To his only hyung.

"We... we can't leave him," Yunho heard Yeosang hiccup, his voice barely holding together. "He can't... he can't die."

Yunho placed a comforting hand on Yeosang's shoulder, squeezing gently. "I know, Yeosang. I know. But we have to trust Jongho and the medics. We have to finish what we started.” Yeosang took a shuddering breath, his eyes never leaving Seonghwa's still form. The medics delivered another shock, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. 

“Time…” One of the medics said. The whole division, the trio had their breaths hitched in their throats as they threaded the last thing they wanted to hear just echoe inside their brains. Jongho glanced at the medics in horror, shaking his head as he dropped the defibrillator and started doing CPR, “Don’t you dare die on me hyung!”

“Jongho …” The medics took hold of his forearm to stop but Jongho pushed their hand away, shook his head, tears were now on the brim of his eyes, “No! W-We can still save him!” 

“Hyung please …” Jongho cried, still operating his CPR.

Yunho, as much as he wanted to wait for hope but he too, had responsibility to do. He pulled both Yeosang and San outside, Yeosang fighting off Yunho but he got smack in the face, Yunho exhales, “Jongho can handle this, as much as I want to sit there and hope to see hyung alive but we have to focus right now.”

“I can’t …”

Yunho grip Yeosang’s shoulders, looking at him dead in the eyes, “You can. It hurts me too to see him there, it’s like the same thing again with Hongjoong-hyung.” His eyes were turning red and tears were evident in the corner of his eyes, “But we have to do this. We can’t afford to lose this chance given to us— given by Seonghwa-hyung. His life will be in vain if we don’t.” 

Yeosang knew deep down what he meant. They have to save you.You are their mission now. Division Ateez from the security department was hand-picked by your father. The medics were there to save Seonghwa that leaves them to hope and pray to whoever is listening may grant them this only wish. 

Yunho, being the second-man in command, turning to his division, “Time is ticking and Lady’s life is on the line and no one has not pick up in any from the tracking devices planted in her accessories her current location and as much as possible, locate from the CCTV footages and we’ll based from there.”

All of his division saluted, “Yes sir!”

Yeosang had disappeared when Yunho was giving his words and came back with a helmet under his arm, looking at Yunho, to which Yunho nodded firmly, “I’m on.” Soon, San came out with the same helmet but in a fiery red design. He nod at Yeosang, “I’m on too.”

Yunho turned towards his division, “Deploy to South-West, from their report to me what you find.”

“Yes sir!” Soon, one by one all of them went through their own vehicles in search of you. Yeosang grips the helmet in his arm as the thought of you in a place they couldn’t locate even with the use of technology or much more advanced— Daniel seems to have planned this for a long time to play out this so smoothly.  

Yeosang spun on his heel, glancing at Seonghwa, being placed on top of the stretcher, “8 makes 1 team.” Yeosang swung his leg over his motorbike, reviving it to life. The sound of his newly installed muffler booming bass deeply in the road as they wait for Yunho’s signal. Yeosnag clicks his tongue out of annoyance as he unclip and place the helmet over his head, pushing up the visor. 

“What’s got you annoyed this time, man?” San spoke, shaking his hair before putting on his helmet, with the microphone chips connected to their helmets they were able to communicate well, Yeosang grumbles, “I just told her to be careful around that man…”

San chuckles softly, “You’re the first ever bodyguard to ever be annoyed but think of it man, she collabs with multiple companies with or without knowing the full intentions.”

“Still—”

“In the world of business, you have to gamble your best cards.” Yoesang sighs, not being able to hold back his worriness about your condition. You have been taken for almost an hour and a half, by now they should have received some kind of phone call or something. 

But to their luck, they were able to receive none.

  Or so he thought.

“Yeosang!” His head snapped towards the sound of his friend. Wooyoung, under the information technology department, jogging towards him. Yeosang unclips his helmet and pushes it upright to his forehead so he could speak audibly.

“Wooyoung, what’s wrong?” Wooyoung exhales, showing his briefcase laptop. With the multiple binary codes displaying, Wooyoung pushes a few of his keyboards before it is transferred to a satellite map, showing a red blinking dot.

“Her phone was turned on 2 hours prior after the smoke bomb, the reason for the 2 hours timelapse is the 30 minute drive from here to this place called ‘Omen’ and had contacted Seonghwa. Her location is outside the radar meaning she’s out of signal. This place is not part of the map but it sure is popular for mafias, this is a place where your handphone can’t be reached.” Yeosang thanked Wooyoung before placing back down his helmet, “Yunho we got her location!”

“Received by Jung Wooyoung. You're off to go, I’ll catch up.” After receiving the go signal, San, Yeosang revs his motorbike, his heart hammering deep inside the cages of his ribs that it made him clench out of anxiety. He had swore to you and your father that he will protect you but he failed again. Twice. He clicks his tongue once again but this time he is determined to get you back, to return you to safety.

 He slaps down the visors, twisting his hand brake down to rev up his exhaust pipe before releasing the brakes and off him and San towards your location. 

“NO! Yeosang!” 

However, Daniel's aim was off, and the bullet grazed Yeosang's shoulder instead of hitting a vital spot. Yeosang winced in pain but managed to stay on his feet. Daniel cursed under his breath, realizing his mistake. Seizing the opportunity, he bolted, getting away as possible even with the wound on his legs.

Yeosang rushes towards you, holding each of your arms as he looks at your eyes with concern, “Are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere?” You shake your head, holding his face in your hands, shaking from fear and trembling from the cold. If it weren’t for their situation, Yeosang would have melted and stayed in that position for so long but with their conditions— he has to wish for this moment to happen some day's time. 

“I’m okay Yeo but we have to catch him, it may not make sense but he will route his way back to the manor” You said urgently, pulling him towards the exit where Daniel just took off. Yeosang shakes his head, holding on to your shoulders. “It will be dangerous for us to catch him, he’s dangerous . He committed a lot of crimes.” 

“He’s just like these because—”

“That still doesn’t explain his actions…”

“I know that but what if he harms a person? It will be more difficult and complicated—”

“He already killed Seonghwa!” 

Your voice muted when Yeosang yelled, his voice cracking in pain and sorrow. His head hanging; hands still on your shoulder although the grip tightens and you could feel the emotions running through them. Your breath hitches as the weight of Yeosang's words sinks in and your heart aches for the pain Yeosang is feeling. Tears blur your vision, and you swallow hard, trying to find the right words.

“W-What?” Yeosang looks up at you, eyes also brim with tears. His breath slowly shortens, his mind replaying all the scenes happening; hurting himself more.

You cupped his face, warm and smooth under your cold ones, “Yeo?”

 “Daniel…” Yeosang whispered, breath caught in his throat, as he inhaled deeply, the bridges of his nose burning from the upcoming tears, “Daniel … killed Seonghwa-hyung.” You wished you heard him wrong but the way his eyes hardened at the thought of Daniel doing the least thing he could do to harm a person yet it happened, just like that. It is awful to think, hence it would be mortifying to the whole division about their leader. 

“We have to catch him, Yeo. We need to focus on getting Daniel in our hands before he could escape and hide, not getting revenge for Seonghwa.”

Yeosang looks up at you pulling away, his eyes red and filled with anguish. “After I just said that man killed Seonghwa-hyung and you still want to chase him?! He didn’t hesitate to kill him and he won’t do it to you too. ”

You look down before glancing back up on Yeosang, with shaky breath, “I know that. I know he will put a bullet inside my head to get what he wants, I know how reckless and psychotic he becomes but I know that we will bring justice to what he did, Yeo. He also has a family waiting for him, whether they know the truth or not to them but he is doing something out of love for his family.” you whisper, your voice trembling. 

“I know what love is but–”

“His actions are beyond an excuse to get what he wants, I know but getting revenge won’t do justice for all the lives he took. We have to believe that redemption is possible. If we do the same thing as he did, we’re no better than he is.”

You inhale, pulling Yeosang back to you, “Seonghwa is proud of you.” For a moment, Yeosang’s grip softens, and he searches your eyes for a glimmer of hope. Then, with a resigned nod, he lets out a shaky breath. “Okay, let’s go. But if he tries anything, we won’t hesitate.” 

You nodded, “Let’s do this.”

You and Yeosang run across the field, tracking the footprints and blood trails leading to a cement road. Seeing a few drops and pools of blood, you realize that Daniel managed to reach his getaway vehicle, adding to your thread of 

There were no other vehicles parked and assuming the plan to rescue you, this must be the escape route to avoid being cornered or chased by other vehicles. You look around, “Where’s your motorbike?”

“He used my motorbike! He used my sweet baby!” Yeosang cried, seeing the missing fiery green z900. He fell on his knees dramatically, “it’s not even fully paid yet~.” You stared at him blankly– (-_-) before you saw a motorcycle, just leaning on the bushes, it’s like it was parked carelessly. You pointed to it, “What about that one?” 

Yeosang’s head snapped towards the motorcycle you're pointing at and his face were the same as yours prior minutes ago, “Oh hell no…” You frowned, walking towards it. Easily, you managed to roll it towards Yeosang, a small smile on your lips as you kicked the stand.

“Hey, we can catch Daniel now!” Your eyes were filled with sparkles and you smiled with hope until you saw Yeosang looking at you with a blank face, your lips falling into a thin line, “What?”

“My lady, as much as I want to drive that … chariot as our runaway vehicle … you’re on your own.” 

“KANG YEOSANG?!”

“This motor is good for province type since it doesn’t go faster than the one I own and since he took mine, it will take us a lot of time before we even get him.” Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape as you notice the number of cc written on the side of the motorcycle, “125cc.”

“Mine is 900, just imagine him already on the highway while we are still in the community.” You smacked him, frowning at the negativity radiating out of him; Yeosang whimpering at the stinging pain on his shoulder where the wound is. You scrambled a lot of sorry as you looked at his wound, Yeosang pouting even using a baby voice for ‘hurting him’. You scowled at him before looking around for any signs of the boys but you were cut off when the sound of a gun firing in the distance, you duck as Yeosang uses his body to shield you.

“They’re trying to escape the others …” Yeosang whispers to which you caught up with, looking at the vehicles Daniel’s men. You look afar and notice a slick car parked not so far away from you two, taking Yeosang’s hand. You rushed towards the car until a few men beat you both to it and ran away; wheels leaving a mark on the road as they accelerated too fast.

“Yeosang! Lady!” You saw Yunho and the others running. You took San in your arms as you noticed him slightly limping, a pang of guilt and worriedness were evident in your eyes that San saw through it; he shakes his head, “I’m good Lady.” “Sannie~” He shakes his head, looking at you with a small yet a painful smile. 

“Don’t worry too much, Lady… Ow–” You shake your head, glancing at Yunho and the rest of the division, “Police probably had their hands on Daniel’s men but so far no news on Daniel.” Yunho spoke as he read the message from his beeper. You sigh, one by one the rest of the division quickly get in their vans and wait for Yunho’s next signal.

“My Lady, we’ll take care of this one.” Yunho spoke, giving you an extra helmet. You shake your head, “I know it seems crazy or like a suicide mission for me but Yunho, he won’t listen not until it’s one of my family or me.”

“He’s not your brother, Lady.”

“No he is not but he still came from my family line.” Looking at Yunho with a determined look. It faltered for a second but he shook his head, “He is dangerous, my lady and please do not make it sound like you are defending that criminal.”

“Because I am. Yunho, he is still my half-cousin. He deserved something from our family. He came down with no choice because my great-grandfather came with a restriction from them.”

Taking the helmet and putting it on, “If you guys are going after him then let me join you.”

Yunho stared at you, conflicted. "Alright, but stay close to us. We can't risk losing you too," he finally said, his voice heavy with concern.

You nodded, determination and fear battling within you. "Let's go," you said, glancing at Yeosang, who gave you a small, reassuring smile despite his own pain. The blood was dried in his uniform yet it must still be painful.

The division mounted their bikes and cars, engines roaring to life. You climbed onto Yunho's bike, clutching the helmet tightly as you prepared for the chase. Although, you noticed another motorbike— the same model as Yeosang but red— stranded. 

“Who owns that?” You point at the motorbike and Yunho hums as he places the beeper back in his pocket, “San may mention being okay but he is injured around his ankle so it would be bad for him to ride.”

Your curiosity got the best of you and the adrenaline soon started, a smile crept in your face, “Can I ride it?”

“Absolutely not!” Yunho and San exclaimed.

“NO!” Yeosang said, placing his helmet and immediately hearing his voice over the comms of the helmets, “And I’m riding it!” 

You huffed, crossing your arms, if it weren’t for the helmet everyone had probably seen your longest pout on your lips. Yunho chuckles, pulling down your visor, “Maybe next time.” 

As you sped down the road, the wind whipping past you, thoughts of Seonghwa and Daniel churned in your mind. The weight of the situation pressed on your shoulders, but you knew this was the only way. Ahead, the road stretched out, the sun beginning to set, casting a fiery glow on the horizon. The chase was on.

Suddenly, you saw the fiery green motorbike in the distance, weaving through the traffic. After all, the traffic and his injury caused the delay of his escape. Your heart pounded in your chest as you pointed it out to Yunho. "There he is!" you shouted over the roar of the engine. 

As soon as Yunho signals to chase, glossy black cars after cars appear out of nowhere; at least 4 of them appear out of nowhere. You were confused as they neared you and Yunho’s motorbike almost grazed the motorbike, “Yunho? Are they part of your division—”

BANG!

“Drive Yeo!” Yunho revs up his motorbike and so did Yeosang. You held on to Yunho tightly, the wind picking up its pace as the meter went from 100 to 180. Your heart was racing as fast as the motorbike could go.

You never knew anything about your family’s complicated past nor your great-grandfather mistress. You knew nothing yet why did it end up here? You being the main target of the other family. It’s not like you wanted someone else to be in your spot, heck you don’t want your sister going through this too. 

“Lady! Listen!” You hum, not being able to trust your voice, his head wiping back and forth to check up on behind him because the side mirror were too small for his view, “You have to jump on Yeosang’s bike.”

“WHAT?!” Finally finding your voice, overlapping with Yeosang’s, as you stared at him with wide panicking eyes, “Are you crazy Yunho?!”

“Hyung, have you lost your mind?!”

“I know and I am but this is the only way!” You shake your head, tightening his grip around him. “Ain’t no way I’m doing this! We can just escape them easily!”

Yunho shook his head, “Trust me, this one, Lady!” 

“No! Yunho we can escape this! Do not leave us here!”

“I am not leaving you nor any of you, just follow my orders!” 

You look over where Yeosang is, he had his head twisting in your direction. One hand on the handle the other on his side, his body language saying he is not up for it but he will continue to follow orders.

You glance at your side to see the catching up cars and then up front is Daniel. 

“Will you let me catch Daniel?” You can feel and read his body language that he is not up to the idea but with all the circumstances, Yunho knew that he has to make a quick decision on what to do and you can see him having a conflict in his mind, weight of the outcome and the consequence that he will face in the future.

So with a reassuring squeeze on his shoulders, “It will be okay. If I trust Seonghwa in this, then I don’t have a problem trusting you too.”

Yunho’s breath hitch, hearing his friend's name and the word trust. Without any further delays, he grunted in agreement.

“I’ll have one of my men as back-up.” You nodded. Yeosang’s motorbike neared you both, the situation is risky but trusting these two is your only chance. Yunho’s division were doing their best to fend off the attackers, but the 3 of the black Mercedes was relentless, swerving dangerously close to Yunho's vehicle.

"Yeosang, now!" Yunho's voice was firm, leaving no room for hesitation. Yeosang pulled up beside you, his motorbike roaring over the sound of the chaos around you. He glanced at you, his expression serious but determined, stretching his hand out for you. "Hold on tight," he shouted over the noise.

You felt colors left your face as the realization of the plan is now occurring. Gulping, taking his hand which crawled over to your forearm, your heart pounding as you gripped Yeosang tightly.; with a single nod of his head, he gripped your forearm tightly before tossing you behind him. You quickly wrap your arm around his waist, the unexpected strength Yeosang had left you speechless. The moment you were secure, Yeosang twist the throttle, and the bike surged forward, weaving through the freeway with incredible speed and precision.

Yunho stayed behind, signalling his division to manoeuvre their car to create a blockade against the Mercedes. "I'll hold them off as long as I can," he yelled, his voice barely audible over the wind and engines. "Catch Daniel!"

You nodded, even though Yunho couldn't see you. The wind whipped through as Yeosang pushed the bike to its limits, leaning into sharp turns and accelerating through narrow gaps between vehicles. The freeway blurred around you, the city lights blending into streaks of color.

“Daniel wouldn’t be far from here. He may be tough but he’s dumb!” Yeosang spoke. You hummed but even with the harsh wind whipping past through you, you can hear the roaring and screeching sound of tires behind you.

“Uh … we have to lose them," you said, glancing back at the pursuing car. The Mercedes was relentless, closing in with every passing second. Yeosang nodded, his jaw set with determination, his tongue swiping on his drying lips,  "This is like before," he spoke followed by a small chuckle, his grip on the handlebars tightening.

You, laughing awkwardly, “Now is not the time to reminisce when we’re nearing death again!” You felt his body vibrating as he chuckled again, “Hey my lady.”

“What?” His head turns towards you, pushing up his visor to clearly see you. His bangs were pushed on his forehead by his helmet, his eyes were sparkling with excitement and probably a hint of adrenaline. Lastly, his red birthmark is so bright and beautiful next to his eyes.

“Ready?”

You pushed your visor up, looking at him directly, “Let’s get over it!”

With a light laugh leaving Yeosang’s lips, he turns his head around; pushing his visor down. His hand twisted the throttle as he rev the motorbike to its limit, pulling the upper part of the motorbike in a wheelie before dropping to the ground with a thud. He swerved off the main freeway, taking an exit that led to a series of winding, narrow roads. The change in direction caught the Mercedes off guard, giving you a slight advantage. But it wasn't long before the black car was back on your tail, its headlights glaring in the rearview mirror. 

"We’re gonna need to enter a city or province," Yeosang shouted over the roar of the engine. "It’s the only way to confuse them!"

You hesitated for a moment, fear gripping your chest. But then you remembered Yunho's words, the trust you had placed in him and Seonghwa. With a deep breath, you nodded. "Do it." Yeosang veered off, entering a new place, upon entering the unfamiliar place, they sped through the city. Yeosang found an alleyway to lose sight of the chasing car, hiding can be the option although it will not last. The tires screeched as he navigated the tight space. The alley opened up into a deserted industrial area, the perfect place to lose the pursuing car. He made a series of quick, unpredictable turns, each one throwing the Mercedes further off your trail.

Finally, the headlights disappeared from the rearview mirror, and Yeosang slowed the bike, pulling into a hidden corner behind an abandoned warehouse. He cut the engine, and silence fell over you like a blanket.

You dismounted, your legs shaky from the adrenaline. Yeosang turned to you, his expression softening. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, I think so. What now?"

"We wait for Yunho's signal," Yeosang replied, pulling out his phone to check for updates. "He’ll let us know when it’s safe to move again."

You leaned against the wall, your mind racing. You are still in a state of shock and digesting all of these in one day. Being kidnapped, ambushed by Daniel and then being threatened to step down as the CEO of the company then finding out about your great grandfather’s other family.

“My Lady…” You look up at Yeosang. His presence was comforting in some kind of way, and has been. Even within the chaos behind you, the burden of responsibilities and the unpredictable future; he somehow made them all disappear.

“Yes?”

“Remember that no matter what, I’ll always protect you even if things have to go south or bloody.” 

Unknowing, your arms raised to wrap them around his waist, face burying on his chest; taking a deep breath in, the smell of cool water cologne mixed with the hint of the gasoline were comforting you that instantly melted you. Yeosang stood frozen, not expecting the sudden skinship but relaxed when he felt your body giving in to the comfortness.

“I wanna stay like this. Forever.” You mutter, enough for him to feel his heart skipping a beat and his ears turning red. Yeosang doesn’t know how long he has been working for you, minus when he was fired, but hence those months passed by; he never knew that he would ever hear those words come out of your lips.

Something he waited for a while. Something he dreamed you would tell him that will take him to heaven and beyond it. Something that inside him revived.

“I do too. I’ll let you stay with me forever too.”

“And that made my work easier.”  You and Yeosang snapped towards the voice. Your eyes widened, locking onto the figure emerging from the shadows.

Mr. Kim, with several of his bodyguards surround the entrance that you and Yeosang came from. He submerges from his men with a cheeky smile, hands resting on top of his crane; tilting his head to the side in a mocking manner, “Your last words might be part of a movie. A tragic one.”

The man you trusted at the beginning of your reign. The man you put faith in when it comes to business and the man who you felt close to because of how he cared for you like how he cared for your grandfather , now standing there with a smug expression. The realization hit you like a truck—Mr. Kim or also known as Wanyoung, someone you had trusted, had betrayed you. The weight of his treachery crushed your chest, making it hard to breathe. Your heart shattered into a thousand pieces as the betrayal seeped into your bones.

All of the collaborations felt fake after seeing his terror smile, the way he puffed his chest in a smug way, they were now tainted with the bitterness of his deception. It felt like the ground beneath you had given way, leaving you suspended in a void of disbelief and pain.

“M-Mr. Kim? Why?” Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to hold back the sobs threatening to escape. So this is the feeling of being betrayed, by someone so close to you like a family.

So this is what Daniel felt.

The pain of betrayal was unlike anything you had ever felt. It was a wound that cut deep, one that would take a long time to heal. The illusion of safety and trust had been shattered, leaving you vulnerable and broken.

Wanyoung, Mr. Kim spoke with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, “Simple. Vengeance.”

Shaking your head, still in denial, “No .. No Mr. Kim– I don’t… This must be a misunderstanding–”

“Oh I’ll let you understand, your amazing  great grandfather cheated. Impregnating my mother and leaving us all in the dirt. Abandon all of us to the point, we were all skins and bones.”

Your heart aches as you glance at Wanyoung’s fiery look unlike the comforting one that he gives you, there was no hope for some semblance of comfort, no more of those. The mixture of anger, hurt and sorrow churned inside you, threatening to overflow, “Why—”

“Because monsters like you don’t deserve this! Your great-grandfather or should I say–  my  father is an asshole for leaving his family because this is a mistake. I’m a mistake. His other family is a mistake. And I should have killed him sooner!” He roared. Yeosang, watching everything unfold, pulls you to his side even closer; not liking how Wanyoung’s men were surrounding them seconds after seconds.

“Y-You killed your own father?! You killed him?!”

“He died of sickness and that did not do any justice for us–”

“So you’re doing it to us.” You cut him off. Wanyoung chuckles, “Bingo!”

Wanyoung breathed in and out sharply, “Daniel is my grandson, surprise but nevertheless he failed his mission and I’m finishing it now.”

Pulling out from his suit jacket was the same revolver that Daniel owns. Seeing the gun, Yeosang pushed you behind him yet arms were gripping his as he was dragged away from you.

“Yeosang!” Your eyes widen when they land a harsh punch on his stomach, kneeled him by kicking the back of his knees and grasp his hair in their hands. “Please do not hurt him!”

“You were already given a chance to have a secure life when her father kicked you out yet your pity little heart yearned for this damsel here.” Wanyoung laughs dryly, looking at Yeosang, “It is nice having all of you Ateez fall on your last breath. One by one.”

Both you and Yeosang picked up with what he said, “Yunho!”

Wanyoung laughs loudly. His eyes were wide with pure evil and it sent shivers down your spine, “Bingo! He and his minions are good as your commander … or maybe,” You shake your head, “You disgusting!”

“Maybe … good as your first commander. Captain Kim Hong joong?” Yeosang's eyes widened, the dilated pupils shrinking as the realization hit him. Wanyoung's words echoed in his mind, each syllable reverberating with a sinister undertone. It was as if a switch had been flipped, and a slow, simmering anger began to rise within him. 

“Captain Kim Hongjoong, that kid is a smart one … No doubt he is a Captain yet, he get killed.”

“They weren’t killed by my men! They were killed by her!”

You look at Wanyoung with a disgusted look, “Shut up!”

Pure anger roared in his veins, a torrent of heat that surged through his body, making his heart pound in his chest. He shook his head, a futile attempt to dispel the creeping fury. “No,” he mumbled, his voice barely a whisper. The word repeated in his mind, a desperate mantra against his thoughts. “No, no, no…”

“Mingi? Oh, how he protected you in that upcoming knife. He took the knife for you Yeosang!”

“He is a good brother!” You felt a cloth being covered on your mouth as you thrash around these mens hold as you watched Wanyoung walk limply, using his crane as his support.

But Wanyoung’s voice persisted, the insidious suggestion worming its way deeper into Yeosang’s consciousness. The mention of Captain Kim Hong Joong, a name that carried respect and brother, gnawed at his resolve. It was like a poison, spreading through his thoughts, clouding his judgment.

Yeosang’s hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. The pain was grounding, but it did little to quell the anger building inside him. His breathing grew heavier, each inhale and exhale a struggle to maintain control. He could feel the anger coiling around his mind, tightening its grip with every passing second.

“No,” he repeated, more forcefully this time, as if saying it louder could drown out the insistent voice in his head. But the memories of Hong Joong, the way he sacrificed himself— for your grandfather, the shattered trust, all resurfaced with a vengeance. They fueled the fire, turning his slow-burning anger into a raging inferno.

“Yunho would be here if she just gave my son all what my family deserves.” Wanyoung squats his hands were on the crane still but one of his hands took his chin harshly to look at him directly in the eye, like finishing the last of his brainwashing, 

“Oh dear San. He is in scorching pain around his ankles, experiencing slow and painful death.” He walks towards Yeosang,  “And certainly, all of these dramas killed your last Captain …”

“.. Park Seonghwa.” His vision blurred, the edges of his sight tinged with red. It was as if a veil had descended over his mind, distorting his thoughts and amplifying his rage. The rational part of him fought to break free, but the anger was overpowering, relentless.

Yeosang’s body trembled with the effort to contain the fury. “All of these happen because of her and her entire line of monsters.”

“No!” The word burst from him, a raw, guttural cry. His eyes, once filled with warmth and comfort, now blazed with unrestrained anger. The transformation was complete, the brainwashing effect of Wanyoung’s words having taken hold. Just like that, Yeosang factory reseted and his eyes were trained on Wanyoung. Wanyoung felt himself laughing, giddy at how his words penetrated Yeosang’s walls and took control of his emotions and himself.

Handing him his revolver, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue, nodding in your direction, “She killed your family, she turned her back on her own line. Do me—us a favor and put a bullet on her head.”

Yeosang’s eyes trailed down to the gun then back to him. You, muffled screams and begs, were nothing to him as you watch how Yeosang took Wanyoung’s revolver. The hands holding him down loosen as he stood up, like a robot under control by his owner.

Leaning on his ear, “It will end all of our misery and our justice will prevail.” 

Yeosang nodded stiffly, “Justice.”

Entire time, Yeosang has not made eye-contact with you but now, he stared at you. What used to be so full of stars, full of joy and sparkles are now dull and empty. NO sparkles, not even a tiny hinge of comfort was there. You shake your head, tears are streaming down your cheeks.

“Please … He’s lying! He twisted my words!”

“Shut up.” His monotone voice sent shivers down your spine. The men behind you pushed you on the ground rather aggressively. Scratching your knee in the process, you tilt your head towards Yeosang’s approaching body. Crawling away from him only made things worse for you as he fired one on your leg. A high-pitch scream as you shakily hold on your leg. 

“Remember that no matter what, I’ll always protect you even if things have to go south or bloody”

His words. You look down on the gun wound on your thigh, pools of your blood slowly gushing out, down to your leg. 

“Yeosang …” You glance at him, eyes searching for those same one. The warmth and love you stared a while ago.

“Do it.” Wanyoung spoke behind Yeosang, staring down at you with a glint of glory. Your fist curled on your thigh as you stared at the front part of the gun, aiming directly on your forehead.

“Yeosang is built to follow commands, like a damn robot. You never see that advantage and use your heart to it— and this is what happens if you use your heart instead of your mind. Failure.” 

In a matter of seconds, a gun fired. Your eyes were shut the whole time but you never felt a bullet being fired on your body nor did you feel all of your memories flashing before your eyes; the gun firing didn’t come from Yeosang’s gun.

“Fuck!” It was Wanyoung, clutching his bloody shoulders. All of his men surrounded him but one by one, they were shot down to the floor; a bullet between or on their heads, leaving Wanyoung with his tail between his legs, looking at his men, “No– No! Send back-up!”, scurrying away from the scene but he was stopped when he fell on the ground, clutching his thigh, another bullet buried within.

Yeosang, as if in plan, spun on his heel cocking the gun on Wanyoung, “There will be no back for you. Yunho-hyung and the rest of the division already had their hands on them before you arrived here.”

Wanyoung hissed, “You’ll regret this boy.”

Yeosang steps closer, still had his arms raised and steady on Wanyoung, “I never regret anything. Helping these families? Not an ounce. The things you said to her? To my family? Some kind of utter bullshit you spat out are lies!”

Wanyoung chuckles dryly, “You’re so dumb! Just like your Captain!”

Yeosang’s eyes dilated, in anger and vengeance, “No— You’re wrong. My Captain sacrificed himself because he loved us and saved all of us. Seonghwa-hyung is a Captain full of love and would lay down his life to protect us. Yunho-hyung is a man of steel and he will stand what he knows is right and San? He was an actor before he became a bodyguard. Am I right, Sannie?”

In the queue, a black Mercedes car— the same one that was chasing you and Yeosang, pulled up, rolling down the passenger seat window. San tilted down his sunglasses, “Gotch’ u my brother.”

Yeosang twisted his upper body, holding something against his ear, “Thanks Wooyoung. The division owes you big.” You glance where Wooyoung is— if you have sharp eyes, you would notice a figure moving at least half kilometer away via a tall building.

“I need a new laptop so …” Yeosang chuckles, chucking away the revolver as the division pulls up and arrests Wanyoung while cleaning up the dead bodies. You were still on the floor, leg numb from the bullet wound. Yeosang jogs on your side, his eyes are back to a normal size, eyes now are warm and full of concern, “Is it still painful?”

You shake your head, a small smile on your lips, “Could have told me that this is a plan all along.”

Yeosang chuckles, looking down ashamedly but when he looks up, “We would but we can’t pull you in here.”

“Yet it worked out somehow?”

Yeosnag chuckles, placing his arms behind your knee and on your back, carrying you towards the paramedics, “It did. I’m sorry about the wound though, Wooyoung got caught up in a fist-fight when he was preparing as a sniper.”

You shake your head, leaning on his chest, “You said about always being there for me if things go south or bloody.” 

Yeosang looks down, your body slowly relaxing against his warmth. He moved his head closer, leaving a soft kiss on your head. You look up at him, your cheeks are covered in red hue.

“I’ll always do, my lady.” 

taglist: @yeosangsbabygirlsblog, @hi-karii, @ateez-atiny380

[lively-potter]

— trials of athena ; five

— genre ; enemies to lovers, kinda slow burn, friends to lovers

— warnings ; a hella lot of cursing, some typos ( of course 🙄😬 ), mature themes, smut, athena doesn’t like feelings, fluff, smut, angst, some violence, a teeny bit of blood and gore, JK’s a dick fr

— intro, teaser, part one, part two, part three, part four,

— find me on Wattpad ; LivelyPotter

— 2024 © LivelyPotter all rights reserved

— word count ; 2k

— taglist ; @ahgasegotarmy116 @jk97bam

chapter five ; “athena and the fortress of trust issues.”

June 2nd, 2023 10:45 AM

Ten fuckin' days had had passed since I met that bumbling shit muffin at the store – and shit had gotten so much worse since then.

For one, that little beech nut next door was cozying up with my family (mainly North) and that shit had been coming to dinner (which I had made sure to miss – and begged Grams and Gramps to let me crash at their place during dinner). Two; my entire family seemed to love that little creamed face loon.

I just don't get why they won't just adopt that fucker; with the rate their relationship is progressing.

A frown came upon my lips.

Okay. I am a little jealous of their attention on him, but still.

He's a complete dick. Why can't they just see that?

I sucked in a sharp breath.

What if he's getting closer to them to take me down?

Shut up, Athena. Not everything is about you, I scolded myself, feeling guilty by being bigheaded.

I sent another text to Sawyer, begging him to come home as I listened to North laugh loudly downstairs and rolled my eyes.

Yes, my enemy is downstairs, if you were wondering. At ten forty five in the morning, no less.

I rolled my eyes, and wondered why my eyes haven't just got stuck back there at this rate. I've been rolling them too much, I really got to stop doing that.

I got up from bed and scurried to my desk, where my laptop was sitting opened. While I confined myself to my room while the rat shit is downstairs, I reckon I should be getting some work done. I cracked my knuckles and pulled my hair back with a clip and got to work.

An hour must have passed, and I was completely stuck in my own world when the doorknob rattled and opened. My eyes never left the laptop screen when a figure stepped past the threshold of my room, figuring it was just Mom or Dad.

But I froze and clenched my teeth when that familiar mocking melodic voice spoke up.

"Hey, princess." he greeted, more than likely holding those delectable lips in a amused smirk.

"Fuck off." I snapped, not in the mood to go and forth bantering with him. I blinked and continued to tap the keys on my laptop – hoping he got the memo and left my fuckin' room.

I never once glanced at him. Honestly, I didn't feel like being hypnotized by his otherworldly beauty.

But that little bitch didn't leave.

I waited (patiently, might I add), for the fucktard to leave, only he didn't. Feeling his glare burning into the side of my face, I huffed loudly and slammed my laptop screen gently closed and snapped my head towards him.

And there he was.

Leaning nonchalantly against my doorframe, JK (as he prefers to be called, but I preferred to call him dickwad) kept his gaze solely on me, and never once wavered. His eyes held a slight glare, warning me to keep mouthing off to him.

I wanted to challenge him just to see what he'd do. Would he put me in my place?

He wore his baggy white cargo pants, held up by another designer belt, and an oversized black shirt with a large white Nike swoosh across the front, and chunky black Prada combat boots. He wore chain bracelets on both of his wrists, chains around his muscular tattooed neck – and as usual, his sexy tattooed hands grappled multiple rings on his long fingers.

Was it nasty to admit I wanted him to grab me by the neck, choke me a little, and leave some marks so I know it wasn't a dream?

My gaze lingered slightly on the dozen roses tattoo on his neck.

Gosh, he was absolute perfection.

But all people had their flaws, and his was his dickish personality.

"Can I help you with something?" I asked through clenched teeth, eyeing him dangerously.

JK smirked at his effect on me and pushed off the door frame and swaggered inside my bedroom.

I watched him, outraged, as he pursed his pierced bottom lip and looked around my girly room, wincing at the amount of pink.

Man, I would spray paint his precious little motorcycle pink and add some bling if only I could...

I smirked at the thought – and side eyed the Nair powder on my nightstand.

I'll have need of you soon, precious.

Patience is a virtue, I said inside my head, eyeing that beautiful hair of this.

It was styled to perfection, his black hair shining in the light when his tattooed hands came up to ruffle the longer strands on top.

Soon, that luscious hair would be no more if I played my cards right, and kept the Nair powder close to me.

"Nah," He shrugged, looking effortlessly handsome as his tattooed fingers grabbed the back of my heavy as fuck reading chair, picked it up and set it across from where I was sitting (with one hand, mind you).

I watched his display of strength with an open mouth. I hated to admit how impressive it was.

If Sawyer were here, I bet that little bitch would have already confessed his undying love for him and perched his tiny ass on JK's muscular solid thigh.

I leaned away from him and crossed my arms across my body. I was only wearing a pair of frilly boy shorts and a matching floral top. It didn't leave much to the imagination when I wasn't wearing a fuckin' bra.

Which I wasn't.

I blushed heavily when JK's eyes flashed to my tits and darkened significantly when he took in the indentations of my nips pressing against the tight fabric.

I cleared my throat when his adam's apple bobbed up and down when he forced his eyes to leave my body.

Wut the fuck...just happened?

"So?" I asked, raising my brows, wondering why he decided to come inside my bedroom and bother me.

JK licked his glossy lips as they pulled up in a smirk.

"No reason. Just came to get you. North and the others wanna talk to you downstairs, princess." He smirked wider, acting like he knew something I didn't.

Even if he did admit it; I probably wouldn't believe him; I got some serious trust issues after Sawyer didn't catch me in a trust fall back in the second grade and i got minor fracture in my skull. That fucking twerp. 

My face paled. "Huh?" I squeaked, "Did they find out that I put food coloring in your pool? —"

"What?" He asked, head flying up and shooting me an accusing glare. "Wait, that was you? You put that fucking red dye in my pool?"

Man, he was hotter when he was mad. He looked ready to punish me.

A shiver of fear ran down my spine as his intimidating presence multiplied. 

"No, dickweed." I scoffed, lying outta my ass, "Your old age must be getting to you – hearing things already." I giggled nervously before stopping in my tracks.

What.

Did I really just giggle?

Me; Athena Jayden Green just giggle?

I've never 'giggled' in my entire fuckin' life.

Well, I did'nt until this fucker came into my life.

Sweet baby Jesus in a comfy manger, just what was this man turning me into?

JK towered over me with a glare and clenched his hands like he wanted to reach over and choke the life out of me (which, knowing my fascination with his sexy hands, I would let him). He licked his lips slowly and backed away.

"I'm only four years older than your little ass." He spoke, a smirk dancing on his lips when I glared up at him for calling my ass little. I wanted to bend over in front of him to prove that my ass, in fact, was not little. "Now get downstairs, princess. I gotta get back home to Bam." JK said.

His dark beautiful doe eyes followed my form as I stood up with an eyeroll and left my bedroom. Hearing his heavy footfalls behind me, I trotted downstairs and entered the kitchen without a further word to JK.

He shot a cheeky wink in my direction and shouted his goodbyes before turning to me.

"I'll be seeing you soon, princess."

There it was again. A hidden message underneath his words.

What in the ever-loving earth was going on?

I also hated to admit his little nickname was growing on me.

Mom and the rest of my family, who had watched our exchange with hidden smirks, gestured for me to enter the dining room, where they were all waiting for me.

I swallowed nervously, wondering what this was all about, and settled into my own assigned chair and bit my lip nervously.

"What's going on? Wait—" I panicked, "Did I do something?" My anxiety was taking hold as Mom snickered into her palm.

"No, baby." North laughed, his burly body shaking as he chuckled. "We just need to go over a couple things before we leave."

Oh, right. I almost forgot about them leaving for Europe in two days.

I gnawed on my bottom lip and nervously nodded.

"Okay. What's up?"

Mom and Papa exchanged looks.

Papa took in a deep breath and pushed his glasses up his nose with a single finger.

"Now, Athena. We have been discussing leaving you alone for so long...and JK so graciously offered to house you while we're gone."

Huh?

Say what now?

"I beg your pardon?" with my brows near to my hairline, I coughed loudly to get past the lump growing in my throat. "You refused, right? I'm an adult, Papa. I can take care of myself."

And I can make my own fucking decisions. I get that they're worried, but I'd have to get used to staying alone, right?

Mom exchanged a look with Papa, "We agreed."

"Without consulting me first, Mom?" I squawked, "I'll say this again – I'm nineteen years old. I'm capable of staying by myself."

"But with the recent robberies happening around the area, Uncle and Dr. Roberts don't have enough people to spare to watch over the house." Papa explained patiently eyeing me sternly, "JK mainly works from home and graciously offered to watch over you while we're gone."

He may murder me while you're gone.

I sighed and banged my head on the table.

"You have to be kidding me."

"Sadly, we're not." Luke said, cheerful eyes dimming, "We just worry, peaches."

I stared at him and felt my resolve crumbling.

I hated making them worry so much. But staying with JK? That's like asking Klaus and his dead beat dickface of a stepdad, Mikael to stay in a two story home together. It would only cause chaos and disaster.

"But what about Grams and Gramps? Can't I stay with them or the Toma Team?" I asked, desperate to find a loophole.

Silas shook his head slowly, "Your Grams and Gramps had a couple things come up and they left early for New York this morning."

"—and the Toma Team is working with Dr Roberts to find a pattern with the robberies, so they're busy. Plus Raven and Sawyer are still in Russia on holiday." Victor chimed in, running his gentle hand over my head.

My shoulders slumped.

Fuck my life.

For real.

Everything is so fucked.

I'm going to be surrounded by a man who arouses feelings I've never felt before. And he was a dick, with a scary dog, and I was going to have to live with him. LIVE WITH HIM. How would I survive this?

...Wait. That was why that beaver nugget was smirking.

I clenched my teeth and made myself stay still, when all I wanted was to march next door and fuckin' strangle that handsome bastard.

Fuck him.

"Fine." It's not like I had a choice. 

A/N

hiiiiiii... thanks for reading. love u ♡ question; what are you most excited about that you think will happen in this story?

[lordgrimwing]

Friends And Family #10

“Hmm,” Thranduil mused as he inspected the contents of the pantry. “What should we do about lunch, Legs?”

Nine-year-old Legolas bounced on a stool by the kitchen counter. Today was Saturday, which meant that after a week of school, Elladan and Elrohir could finally go to the zoo with him (actually, the twin’s mother, Celebrían, had called Thranduil last week to ask if Legolas wanted to join her children on a zoo outing, but Legolas very adamantly insisted that he was taking his friends to the zoo and not the other way around). He’d been bubbling with excitement since getting out of bed this morning.

“Peanut butter sandwich!” He exclaimed. Over the last couple of years, he’d been steadily using his voice more and more. Signs still peppered what he said, but he only really stopped speaking when he was particularly uncomfortable or frightened (as when he found himself in the same room as an upset, hissing, watermelon beetle—one of the few bugs he did not like).

Thranduil nodded, unsurprised by the lunch request. His son loved peanut butter sandwiches. Legolas would eat one for every meal if his parents let him, and Thranduil always brought a jar of creamy peanut butter and a loaf of white bread on vacations.

“And what about fruit?” He asked as he brought the sandwich ingredients to the counter so Legolas could help. “Apple or banana?”

Legolas made a face. Clearly, a singular peanut butter sandwich was all that was required in his mind.

“You gotta pick one, buddy.” Thranduil gave him a butter knife and let him think about it while scooping peanut butter out of the plastic jar and spreading it across two slices of bread.

“Apple,” Legolas decided with less fervor than a minute ago as he plopped the sandwich into the little plastic sandwich box his father opened for him.

“Apple slices coming up,” Thranduil said, taking a pink apple from the bowl on the counter and retrieving the apple slicer from a drawer. “Will you get me a bowl of water and the orange juice?”

Legolas hopped off the stool and collected the supplies to stop the apple slices from turning brown in his lunch bag. He carefully carried the stainless steel mixing bowl from the sink over to his dad, walking slowly to see if he could keep the water from sloshing around very much. He wasn’t successful, but he liked to try.

Once the slices were bathed in water with a hint of orange juice, Thranduil moved them to a baggie and handed them over to Legolas to add to his lunch sack.

The nine-year-old stuffed the sack into his red backpack, the one with the little green-clad elf from his favorite game printed across it. “Let’s go!” He said.

Thranduil chuckled and grabbed the loop on the top of the backpack before the boy could dash for the front door. “Slow down there, little warg,” he said. “Your friends are going to pick you up so you can't go until they’re here.”

“When will that be?” Legolas whined. Waiting for other people when he was all set and ready to go was a work in progress, something his teacher was sure to tell his parents about when he started school.

Thranduil glanced at his watch. “They’re supposed to be here in fifteen minutes.”

Legolas’s shoulders slumped. “Fifteen whole minutes?”

“Fifteen whole minutes, and they could be late, so maybe longer.”

Legolas let the backpack slide off his bony shoulders so it was dangling from his father’s hand. “Okay,” he sighed.

Thranduil nodded toward the door out to the back yard. “How about you go check on those spiders you found in the garden yesterday? I bet they’ll almost be here by the time you’re through with that.”

The garden wasn’t anything particularly exciting, as much weeds as intentional flowers and bushes. Thranduil started it as a way to find something to do during the endless hours when Legolas wanted to play out in the communal green space in the middle of the neighborhood, so he could keep an eye on him and give his hands something to do when he didn’t feel like reading. After a while, the garden also became another place for Legolas to play and watch insects go about their tiny lives.

Mollified, Legolas hurried off to see how his newest invertebrate friends were doing.

[montammil]

Cold, Cold Eyes - Part Three

CW: Restraints, knives, slight gore, parental whumper, locked in a basement, food mentions, infantilizing behavior

...

When Marshall comes to, he realizes its dark, cold, and humid. He looks around to find himself in what appears to be... a basement? His family never owned a basement, but he can take a guess that’s where he is. If not, he really has no other clue.

“Good evening. Sleep well?”

Marshall turns his head as far as it can to see Lawrence standing there. He does not look pleased, his expression alone could kill. When Marshall tries to flinch back, he just hits a wall. He sees a chain around his ankle, connected to the wall.

Striding forward, Lawrence says, “I really thought you were making progress. Stupid me, right? I want to blame you, but I really was the fool to trust you so quickly. I just really thought you were... different.”

“I’m sorry,” the younger man blurts. “I’m sorry for running. Please don’t hurt me.” The one thing he can pride himself on is how easily he can accept defeat. Maybe that’s not something to be proud about, though.

A long sigh escapes Lawrence’s lips. “How else will you learn, then? I don’t want to hurt you, kiddo, but what other choice do I have? Running away like that could’ve gotten you hurt in much worse ways.”

Marshall looks up at the older man to see him staring right down at him. “What do you mean?”

Lawrence chuckles. “Well, for one, hunters come around often in the woods where I live. What if you ran into a bear trap, or one of them mistook you for an animal? There’s also lots of coyotes in the area. I know they don’t attack people much, but it still happens. What if one of them had rabies?”

Now you’re just coming up with random excuses, Marshall thinks bitterly. He looks around the room for any sign of a weapon, readying himself for whatever is to come. He doesn’t have a high pain tolerance, but surely Lawrence wouldn’t hurt him that bad, right?

“I wanted to find something suitable for what you did,” Lawrence continues, “and I decided to go for something a little painful, and something a little more... psychological.”A small knife materializes in Lawrence’s hand.

Before Marshall even knows what’s happening, Lawrence plunges the knife deep into his leg. Marshall’s scream echoes throughout the basement before dying out. It seems as though time slows down as Lawrence slowly retracts the blade. As soon as Marshall feels it withdraw entirely, his body starts shaking and he starts screaming again. He tries to cover his wound with both hands, attempting to protect it from further damage, but the blood keeps pouring out.

Lawrence sighs. "No matter how badly you think that hurts, it's nowhere near as worse as you hurt me. I love you so much, and you break my heart. You're breaking your own father's heart, Marshall."

"You aren't my dad!" Marshall cries. His submissive demeanor is gone, too many emotions are coursing through him.

Suddenly, Lawrence's deep sapphire eyes grow even angrier. "Excuse me? Want to repeat that, young man?"

"I said you aren’t my dad!" Marshall snarls. Hot tears run down his cheeks and drip onto the cold, slate floor. "You will never be my dad!" He lets out a cry as another stab of pain hits him.

Instead of looking angry, Lawrence laughs. Darkly. He throws the bloody knife aside and leaves, and after a few minutes, he's back, much to Marshall's fear. Instead of a small knife, however, he has something else ready in his hand. Something large and metallic. A cleaver.

Kneeling down in front of him, Lawrence's eyes dig into the depths of Marshall's soul. "Do you know what'll happen if you try running away again? Go ahead, guess."

Marshall swallows thickly. "Lawrence--"

"Dad," Lawrence corrects. With his free hand, he grips Marshall's chin and squeezes tightly. "If you try running away, I will chop off both of your legs. Is that something you want?"

"No!" Marshall sobs. "No, I'll-- I'll be good, just-- please don't." Every time he stands up for himself, he instantly regrets it. He's not surprised this isn't any different.

"Is that a promise?"

"Y-yes!"

He raises a brow. "Yes, what?"

"Umm... yes, D-dad?"

Seeming satisfied, Lawrence lets go of his chin and cups his cheeks in his hands, more gently, to wipe away his tears with his thumbs. "I don't like it when you cry, sweetheart. You're making me feel like I'm the bad guy here."

"Sorry," Marshall whimpers. He hates his touch, he hates it so much.

He sighs and kisses his forehead. "Don't apologize. We still aren't done with your punishment yet, though. You're gonna stay here for a few days, but I promise when I come back, all will be forgiven."

Marshall's hazel eyes widen. "I don't wanna be left alone here..."

Lawrence coos. "I know, but I didn't want you to break my trust, and look what you did. I'll be back soon, and I'll still give you food three times a day."

"But--"

"Marshall." Lawrence guides his face up to look at him. "I know you're scared, but after you're out, you'll be forgiven! You'll earn my trust a whole lot easier if you just accept this. Don't you want me to trust you?"

"Y...yes." He sniffs and bows his head when Lawrence lets go of his face. More tears cascade down his lightly freckled cheeks.

"Good boy." Lawrence ruffles Marshall's hair, then leans down for one more kiss to his messy hair before standing. "Dad loves you so, so much."

Marshall doesn't reply, but luckily Lawrence doesn't demand one. He flinches as he hears the door shut, then just cries. Is anyone looking for him? Do his actual parents even care? He only has two friends and he doubts they even care that much.

It gets colder within minutes. Every time he shifts to another uncomfortable position, the quiet clanging of the chains echo around the room. Eventually, his leg stings more than ever and he falls asleep in a curled up position. He dreams of his friends, his only actual hope.

Part of him wonders even in its subconscious, if everyone who's ever known him has heard about his disappearance. He knows it's unlikely, but he likes to think at least one of his friends is trying to look for him, maybe even one of his old teachers.

He doubts even if they were looking, they could ever find him. He doesn't know where he is, he can only hope it's somewhere near where he was originally taken. There's a beach by the house, and though the nearest beach was an hour away from his actual area, that's still in the same state.

Another day goes by. A part of him wishes for even Lawrence to show up. He never liked talking to people much, but being stuck in a basement, chained to a wall, with no blanket isn't really ideal either. The cut on his leg stopped bleeding, but it still hurts.

Biting his lip, Marshall takes hold of his arms and wraps his fingers tightly around the chain attached to his leg, hoping that it could be his way to get rid of the numbness that he's feeling inside. If only it would get warmer down here.

Three times that day, he got food delivered by Lawrence, each when he was asleep. He assumes there's cameras in the room, because it can't just be a coincidence Lawrence delivers food when he's asleep. The next time he wakes up, there is a gray blanket on his lap, so at least it isn't that bad.

Laying his head on the side of the wall, Marshall closes his eyes, allowing his exhaustion to overcome him once more.

Marshall doesn't know how longer passes. Each day is the same, he does catch Lawrence delivering him more food. It wasn't surprising how Lawrence didn't respond to any of his pleads to be let out, and just left.

The day after, however, Marshall wakes up to a clattering sound. He looks over to see Lawrence unlocking the cuff that circles his ankle. He smiles up at him.

Without thinking, Marshall leans into his embrace when Lawrence wraps his arms around him. He's shivering, and normally would cringe at Lawrence's scent, but for once, the smell comforts him. It means he can get out of this damn basement.

"I wasn't gone for that long, now was I?" Lawrence chuckles, running his hands through Marshall's hair. "Did you miss me?"

He gets the reply he wanted, Marshall nodding silently.

Picking him up, Lawrence says, "Good, because I missed you, too! Now we're gonna forget all about this silly little incident, right, sweet boy? You're going to behave?"

Once again, Marshall nods.

With a contented smile, Lawrence carries him upstairs and lies him on the couch, then leans down to look at the cut across his leg. "It doesn't look too bad, but I'll clean it out just in case. I'm so, so sorry, I forgot to clean it out earlier... I guess I just let my anger get the best of me. Do you forgive me, marshmallow?"

Marshall can't bring himself to say anything still. He nods again.

Lawrence smiles and kisses the top of his head. "Can I get a verbal reply, kiddo? I like hearing your voice."

"Y-yeah. I... I, uh, forgive you..." Is that the reply he wanted? Marshall doesn't know.

"Thank you so much, Marshall. You're such an amazing child." He stands up, patting his head. "How about after I make us some dinner, we can have ice cream! I got some just for you yesterday. Wanna have a movie night, too? I'll even make a blanket fort!"

How he goes from being downright horrifying to enthusiastic and even sweet, Marshall doesn't know. He's too tired to think. "O-okay."

Backing away from the sofa, Lawrence grins. "Great! Let me take care of that cut and then I'll get started."

Marshall goes on auto pilot after that. Each time he blinks, he feels like something different is happening. One minute Lawrence is tending to the cut, as if he wasn't the one who caused it, and then he's sitting at the dinner table, eating a plate of fettucine alfredo, which is admittedly good.

"So what do you want to watch, Marshy?" Lawrence asks the next time Marshall zones back into what's happening. "Anything you want. Within reason, obviously. Preferably something PG."

"I don't care."

"Marshall."

He sighs, not even having the energy to think of a movie. He doesn't even care if it's an infantilizing choice, he just really can't think of anything. "I... I guess... Luca?" It's the first thing he could think of, thinking of the fettucine he had just minutes ago. Or hours. He has no clue anymore.

Lawrence chuckles. "Good choice." He turns it on and snuggles up close to the young adult. "I love you so, so much, Marshall. I'm so proud of you."

Marshall wants to snap that he doesn't have a choice if he values his legs, so he just stares at the TV. He doesn't know what he's feeling right now. He doesn't feel angry, but he definitely doesn't feel happy, either. Maybe sad, but more on the number side of things.

"Are you okay, buddy?" Lawrence murmurs. He runs a hand through his curls. "You aren't sad, are you? I just was so scared for you... I had to do that, it was for your own good. I know it wasn't fun, but you're here now. You've learnt your lesson. Right?"

Eyes still focused on the television screen, Marshall mumbles, "Yeah... I've learned."

[shrinkthisviolet]

⭐star⭐

 I’ll talk a little about the Barry & Morgan hot chocolate fics for this one!

For context, this is the first one, taking place post-1x7 (an episode tag of sorts):

And this is the second, taking place post-1x14:

They’re the bookends of “i still love you (i promise)”, really, and they’re sorta like checkpoints in regards to Barry & Morgan’s friendship—markers of progress. In the first one, Barry and Morgan are friends and still getting comfortable with each other—this fic has the first major show of vulnerability from Morgan to Barry. In the second...well, they’re basically siblings, having already claimed each other as such in “i still love you (i promise)”...and there’s still vulnerability there, because of a certain idea Iris suggested that they both agreed to but Barry is more hesitant about (can’t say too much about it just yet, but you’ll find out in the 1x15/1x16 fic!)

The symmetry/inversion was also so sweet to write: in the first one, Barry offers Morgan a gift of hot chocolate and encourages her vulnerability. Meanwhile, in the second, Morgan offers Barry a gift of hot chocolate (the same brand he gave to her in the previous hot chocolate fic, at that!) and encourages his vulnerability. Though notably she’s a bit more brisk about it than he was in the first fic…because Barry’s not the only one having doubts about Iris’s plan. Morgan’s just very keen to push away her bothersome, inconvenient feelings for a greater goal (a running theme with her 🥺 this poor girl).

It was my first time writing a pair of companion fics, and I think it worked out pretty well 💞 that wasn't even really my intention at first, but...they are undeniably companion fics.

Also ofc...they had such wonderful moments together:

“Mo, hey.” Someone squeezed her hand, put it atop their chest. “Deep breaths, okay? In…out…”

Slowly but surely, she slowed her racing heart enough to follow along, and her panic faded. Then her vision finally focused enough to realize it was Barry.

Of course it was Barry. Farooq was dead, she’d seen his body herself—get a grip, Morgan.

“Hey, no.” Barry frowned. “Don’t do that. You’re allowed to be scared of things, Mo.”

Poor Morgan 🥺 you just know there are so few people in her life to tell her so…and one who definitely wouldn’t.

“You have to buy so much already for yourself though!”

“I’m also older than you.” He grinned. “Let me use my adult money for something, huh? You can make better use of your money by saving it.”

She grumbled something about it being way too late at night for her to be taught things, and he laughed, making her smile despite herself.

…

“Ah-ah, not so fast.” He held the packet up, out of her reach. “Go sit down, I’ll make our cups.”

She frowned. “Barry—”

“I’m older,” he reminded her gently, “and you're the one who just woke up. That means I take care of you, okay? Go sit. It won’t take me long, and you know it.”

“Even you can’t speed up a microwave,” she grumbled...

A little sibling teasing (pre-siblings, ofc, they’re just friends right now) for the soul 🥰

“I’m saying,” he said slowly, “that I get it. I understand feeling like your fear is stupid, something irrational. Maybe it is irrational…but that doesn’t make it any less real.” He looked earnestly at her. “And it doesn’t make you any less deserving of help.” He set the mug down in front of her.

She frowned. “But I…that’s…that’s not a cure!”

“Sure it is.” He smiled gently, sitting beside her. “The best cure is having someone who you can tell everything to…someone who can chase the nightmares away. No matter who they are to you—a best friend, a lover, a sibling, a parent, whoever…everyone needs someone like that. And you have someone like that, right? Your dad?”

“Sometimes,” she admitted.

“He used to make hot chocolate for you, right? Or did you have it for the first time some other way?”

“Dad’s not really a hot chocolate kind of guy—that’s moreso my aunt. She taught me how to make it.” She sighed. “But…I don’t know. Telling her everything…that’s too complicated. It might put her in danger.”

Oh Barry. You have it so wrong, you have no idea. But you’ll figure out in another 7 episodes that something is Not Right about Morgan & Thawne.

Also, hot chocolate is ofc a metaphor—he’s just rephrasing his question in a metaphorical slant, which gets Morgan to give him less of a vague answer. She won’t be totally open with him this early…and he’s learning, even this early, to be creative and gentle to coax out her true feelings.

(On that note…Barry does make some magical hot chocolate, doesn’t he 👀 it’s not outright stated yet, but Morgan is half-convinced he’s making it with some sort of magic. Is that just the literal hot chocolate, I wonder, or the rest of their conversation too? Is it perhaps just Barry himself?)

“…but…you don’t really have any enemies, do you, Sentry?”

She shook her head, smiling at the protective tone in his voice. “Sweet of you to care, Flash, but no. Nothing so dire.”

“Good. I can’t see why anyone would hate you anyway, you're a delight.”

Protective Barry 🥰 my favorite thing

He grinned back, picking her up bridal-style. “Sure thing.” He sped her to Dad’s office…and for a split second, she could almost see his gold lightning around them.

She hadn’t realized until now how much the sight comforted her—when she was aware enough to realize its color, anyway.

Her hero 🥺 ever since she was a small child, and even more now that he’s come to exist and she’s gotten to know him. Now that she’s had the privilege of calling him her friend.

“Um…I know I’ve been asking for a lot today, and especially tonight, but…can I…can I have a hug?”

“Of course.” He hugged her tightly. “For the record, I’m always up for a hug. You don’t have to worry about asking.”

She laughed, hugging him tightly back. “Duly noted.”

For those of you who didn’t catch it, “hug me? You never have to ask” from Morgan in chapter 9 of “i still love you (i promise)” was a callback to this! Using his own words of comfort to comfort him 🥰

“I know things were…well, things have been tense, and a lot of that is—”

He frowned. “If you try to blame yourself again—”

“Just stating the facts,” she muttered, but at his glare, she held her hands up in defeat. “Fine, fine! No self-deprecation, noted.”

“Good. It…worries me, how much you do that.”

“Nothing to worry about,” she replied breezily, looking away from his concern.

Barry calling out Morgan’s self-deprecation 🥺 and she’s so startled by it. She doesn’t do it around Tina, Caitlin, or Cisco (notice the name I’m excluding? Yeah. It’s very likely his fault that Morgan got into this habit to begin with), and she doesn’t expect Barry to push back on it…especially so soon after they’ve reconciled

He laughed, his arms warm and tight around her, and it didn’t take her long to reciprocate. “This is so thoughtful of you, Mo. Thank you so much. I can’t…I can’t believe you remembered.”

This is, ofc, because Morgan remembered the hot chocolate brand, and he’s so touched by it.

“I mean, are you kidding? Of course I’d remember having hot cocoa with the Flash.”

“Hmm. And of course I’d remember having hot cocoa with Sentry,” he teased, pulling back to smile at her. “You might not be as popular a hero as you should be—”

She frowned. “Barry—”

“—but,” he continued, kissing her forehead, “you’re my hero, and I’m serious about that.”

That’s their real thesis 💞 they’re each other’s heroes! They met as equals, they’re superhero partners…and even as she settles into the role of his baby sister, and he as her big brother, they trust each other as equally capable with those powers. And equally heroic to each other. And isn’t that something? Platonic soulmatism for sure 🥰

director’s cut ask game!

Taglist (send an ask or DM to be added or removed):

@arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @raith-way @vexic929 @ironverseocs

@thechaoticfanartist @goldheartedchaoticdisaster @negative-speedforce @starstruckpurpledragon @angst-is-love-angst-is-life

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Skeletons with a S/O who is basically like a jester, very jokey, happy go lucky, and a bit of a bastard.

Undertale Sans - You two are pranking each other in turns and trying to be the biggest bitch to each other possible. Sans always had to play nice with Papyrus because he explodes easily and he can't stand the screaming, but right now he's catching on twenty years of horrible jokes he never dared to do to his brother. Papyrus is having a mental breakdown over you two.

Undertale Papyrus - You are trying to test his limits. But what you didn't know is that Papyrus has 20 years of experience with stupid pranks and half of them fall flat because he calls you out before you can do anything. You're so frustrated and he is so proud of himself. Sans can't believe it the first time Papyrus comes to him to actually ask him to explain him his best pranks so he can ruin his S/O's mood.

Underswap Sans - PLEASE GIVE HIM A BREAK. He loves jokes and puns too, but this is too much, he can't follow you omg. Everytime he enters a room, he needs to inspect EVERYTHING as he lives in fear of you making fun of him again. He's begging you, give him one day. Only one day free of your pranks.

Underswap Papyrus - You're bullying him. Honey just wants cuddles and love and you keep tricking him in believing you will cuddle him before tricking him atrocely and make him regret his decision of hugging you. Why. Blue calls this his karma for the 20 years he made his own life a living hell. Well, until he sat on a woopee cushion.

Underfell Sans - You two managed to infiltrate a school one day, broke all the toilets, put woopee cushions on every bench and chair, and then you drank vodka while witnessing the chaos. You will never grow tired of this. Police officers call you the "woopee cushions psychopath gang" and they are trying to find you, without success so far, except for that day when they found their car filled with woopee cushions.

Underfell Papyrus - Pranking him, he can still manage, but this is too far. Poor Doomfanger looks like a rainbow as you dyed her entire fur as a vengeance for all the times she made your life hell. Doomfanger is crying in agony on the floor at the feet of her dad, begging for help. You didn't realise Edge cared that much about the damn cat until he caught you in one of his trap in the garden and let you hang upside down for a whole day, laughing at your face like the sassy man he is every time he walked in front of you. You kinda desserved it honestly.

Horrortale Sans - You know that sloth in Zootopia? The one that laughs in slow motion after a joke. That's kinda Oak. He finds the jokes funny, but only after a very long awkward silence, the time the joke gets to his very slow brain. You think that's even more hilarious this way. He's a good public for almost anything, as long as it's not hurtful to his brother or the animals of the farm.

Horrortale Papyrus - You almost shit yourself when Willow pinned you against the wall and said with a very creepy voice he would love to cook human today, before laughing like a madman at your fear saying that you should have seen your face. Since that day, you are very careful with pranks around Willow. He's a sweetheart but never forget he can crush your skull with one hand if he really wants it.

Swapfell Sans - He gives you a deadpan face every time, not amused. That's your personal challenge. Caught him off guard. But it's still a work in progress so far. He's a very difficult public and he's insensitive to taxing humor. You need to be very subtile to just get one smile. But you are determined to find a weakness. Keep searching.

Swapfell Papyrus - You lost the count of the times you two got in trouble because of stupid pranks you set to random people. You are encouraging each other to go farther and farther, except not everyone is really receptive to your type of humor. Nox gave you two two warnings, then he let you in jail for two weeks so you both learn your lesson. That didn't work. You did it again as soon as you got out.

Fellswap Gold Sans - King of pokerface. You can try but you'll never have a reaction from him even if you're trying really hard. However, prank his brother and he's going to show you his kind of humor by pinning you against a wall, dark sockets, threatening you to lose your hand if you're doing this ever again, and you're kinda so traumatised you never do it ever again.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He laughs at you at every joke, then there's an awkward silence. Then he looks at you. And then he tells you he didn't get it. And that kills you even more every time.

[zhongster]

id love to hear your levi and erwin headcanons if you still write for them !! no pressure tho <3

I absolutely do and I adore them both

THIS IS KINK CONTENT, DNI IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT

LEVI ACKERMAN:

So I feel like during his time in the underground he was very very crass and didn’t give a single shit about manners

I mean it’s a very throat-cut society they have bigger things to worry about

If he had to burp he was just gonna do it

Once he was made to join the walls’ military on the surface he began to use his burps as an act of defiance

I think once he gained respect for Erwin and his cause he began to mind his manners more, he had a reason to

It was a slow progression

At first he’d just burp behind a closed fist

Then he started releasing all his burps with a closed mouth, still behind his fist

Eventually my guy did work his way up to excusing himself but it’s literally only when Erwin’s around

Otherwise he’ll just turn away and belch with his mouth closed into his fist

His burps are very long and growly

They usually last a minimum of four seconds

He tries not to burp in front of his subordinates (and Erwin)

All bets are off with Hange

He doesn’t GAF when he’s with Hange

It’s kinda unavoidable for his squad to have heard him burp at some point though

And I feel like they were kinda shocked

They were definitely even more shocked though when he happened to burp in front of them while Erwin was there and he actually said the words “excuse me”

Bro definitely has a stomach of steel from his early life in the underground

They had to eat what they could find and as a result he can literally eat spoiled food and it just makes him a little burpy

This of course fascinates Hange endlessly

ERWIN SMITH:

Now Erwin’s definitely a lot more reserved with his burps

Bro’s a military Commander who’s respected by the entire Scout Regiment

He’s got a reputation to uphold

I wouldn’t say he has a huge reaction if he WERE to burp in front of someone

He’d just clear his throat and give a sincere apology

But inside his mind he’s like “FUCK”

Lmao imagine that from the soldiers perspective

Hearing your commander burp would be so weird

Anyway

I think he does have pretty good control over his burps so its not often that he slips up

But it does happen occasionally

He’s got a very broad frame so I for sure think that effects the timbre of his belches (is that a thing??? Do burps have a timbre?? I’m gonna say they do.)

They’re very very deep

They come out very slow and drawling

Dad burps lol

A lotta times his bigger ones hurt his chest

He’s probably burped the most around Hange and Levi considering he’s closer to them than everyone else

But he’s still not super into the idea