#signed off work for foreseeable future
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gianttankeh · 1 year ago
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Excuse note #1.
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How would youse feel? You've just gone through a bruising divorce with yr artistic partner of two decades and then folks are asking why you havnae updated yr Tumblr site? Jeeeeeezo..... As most of youse will be aware, I (Ali Robertson) am somewhat technologically inept. All that stuff that Usurper used to say about being "luddites"? That wasnae schtick. It's fact! And for this reason, I am awaiting a time when my kind pal, Kirstie Paton, can lend me her time to faff with this page on my behalf and make the links, etc more relevant to all things Giant Tank-related. So... please be patient while I do some renovations and, in the meantime, I'll endeavour to feed youse some news tidbits via various social media platforms. You can find links here: https://linktr.ee/gianttank
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krirebr · 4 months ago
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All Things Go 1
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Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Female Reader
Word Count: ~2.9k
Summary: It's been a few months since Steve was pulled out of the ice and immediately had to fight aliens with the newly formed Avengers. He is doing fine with all that, all things considered. Which is why he's so upset when he's suddenly benched from missions and forced to welcome a support omega into his home. He's fine!
Warnings: Angst (with an eventual happy ending), panic attack, disassociation flashback, Steve actually having to deal with the PTSD and depression and anxiety he would so clearly have if he'd been through everything in the MCU, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, possible slow burn - we'll see All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by me
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
A/N: Oh boy. Here I am. Back on my angsty bullshit. This story was kickstarted by this ask. It's an inverse of the program at the center of Still Life, but not in the same universe.
This idea was helped along a ton by @stellar-solar-flare who helped me overcome my fear of writing a mostly canon compliant Steve and dipping my toes into an Avengers AU.
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!
As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
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Steve checked his watch for a third time as he paced around his apartment. It was bad enough that he had to indulge this ridiculous idea, but she was late on top of it. Four minutes, now. He’d been pacing for the last fifteen. He’d tried to sit down while he waited, but the buzz of the adrenaline just under his skin had been too strong. 
It was the disrespect, that’s what it was, that really bothered him in her tardiness. That was going around lately. A whole team that refused to listen to him. And then had the gall to go to Fury behind his back after what happened during the last mission. And yes, of course, it was all couched in concern. But he saw it for what it was: a mutiny. And he’d been benched because of it. From all missions for the foreseeable future. So what was he supposed to do now? Thawed out 70 years in the future just to be stranded without a purpose.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. No, the worst part was now six minutes late. A support omega. He’d scoffed right in Fury’s face when he’d “suggested” it. Of all the stupid, 21st-century things he’d encountered, this took the cake. Like there could possibly be some base alpha part of him that was so broken it could only be soothed by an omega with a degree in psychology. Ridiculous. He was fine!
But it’d been the kind of suggestion that didn’t come with the option to say no. Not if he ever wanted to get back on the team. So fine. He’d play nice, show her there was nothing wrong, and get her to sign off on him going back into the field. He’d be back in action in just a few days. And then he might be able to breathe again.
As he was about to start another lap of his living room, the doorbell finally chimed. He took a moment, so as not to seem like he’d been standing right next to it. Then he took a deep breath, pasted on that Captain America smile, and opened the door. “Hi,” he said, immediately stepping aside to give you room. “Come on in.”
“Captain Rogers,” you said with your own big smile as you introduced yourself, then picked up your valise from the ground beside you and stepped into his apartment. You were sharply dressed, professional. In how you held yourself, too. But your eyes were warm. And you were beautiful. It reminded him of some of the nicer omegas Buck used to go out with. There was a sharp pang in his chest. Like always, he ignored it. 
“Thank you for welcoming me into your home.” you continued. As if he’d had any sort of choice. “I’m so sorry I’m late. The security checks took longer than I’d expected.”
“No problem at all,” he said. Ten whole minutes. “I hadn’t even noticed. Here, let me put your bag in the room I set aside for you.”
“Oh, a guest room?” you asked. He stopped at your question, a little confused. Where else would you sleep? “That’s very thoughtful of you. I’ll definitely appreciate having my own space. But, sleeping arrangements are something we can discuss and customize to fit our goals. Sharing a bed can be really helpful if sleep is something you’re struggling with.”
Absolutely not. No. Definitely not. “Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary,” he demurred. “With the serum, I really don’t require much sleep,” he called down to you as he quickly took your bag to the small guest room he’d finally furnished because he had to have somewhere to put you. It’d never occurred to him you’d want to share his bed. Did people really do that?
When he came back into the living room, you were still hovering by the door, your messenger bag slung over your shoulder and your hands clasped in front of you. You were looking around, taking in the blank walls, spartan furniture. Judging him probably. Well, it’s not like he’d had much time to decorate in between saving the world. What did any of that matter? “Can I get you anything to drink? Eat?” he asked.
“No, I’m fine,” you said, with a benign smile that seemed aggressively professional. “If you don’t mind, I’d love if we could sit and chat for a few minutes before we move on to anything else.” 
“Of course,” he said, with his own benign smile, as he gestured to the two couches that had come with the apartment. He waited for you to sit in one and then took a seat in the other, a mass-produced coffee table covering the chasm between you.
“First,” you said, your hands resting neatly in your lap, “I just wanted to make sure that my scent is one you’re comfortable having in your home on a long-term basis. I know that the real thing can sometimes be a little different than the sample you based your choice off of.”
Steve had just randomly grabbed one from the box he’d been presented with. He’d thrown it at Fury with a grumbled, “That one’s fine,” as he left the small room they’d given him to make his choice. He’d never even opened it.
He only got a vague hint of it now, sitting across the room from you. Floral maybe. He didn’t bother to take a deep breath, to catalogue it. You’d only be here for a few days max. Not enough time for your scent to permeate. So, it didn’t really matter what he thought about it.
“Yes, it’s fine,” he nodded at you.
“Good,” you said, your smile becoming slightly more genuine. “Well, first I can take a few minutes to talk through what it is we’re going to be doing here. I'm sure you've already gotten the whole spiel, but it might be helpful to hear it from my perspective. Get a feel for how I do things.”
You paused like you were waiting for a response so he nodded along. “Sure, sounds great.” He already knew what the program was. He already knew he didn’t need it. This was a waste of time.
“Mostly, I’m just here to help you as an alpha get back to feeling like your most grounded, best self. Stability and comfort are mainly what I’m here to provide. Listening and guidance too, if that’s what you want. This is fully customizable, very collaborative. I’m not a therapist, but I do have my masters in behavioral psychology. And I’ve been doing this for a while now. So whatever you throw at me, I can handle it. Basically, this arrangement can look like whatever the two of us want it to look like. The biggest requirement, on both sides, is honesty.”
He leaned forward. This was the in he’d been waiting for. “I really appreciate that. And I do want to be completely honest with you. I don’t want to waste your time. The truth is, this is unnecessary. I think people expect me not to adjust well, so they’re treating me like I’m not. But really, I’m fine. I’m doing fine. And I just don’t think I’m going to get much from this.” 
You didn’t say anything for a long moment, just looked at him curiously with your lips pursed. At one point, your eyes flicked down to where his hand was resting on his knee. Could you see the way it shook? His hands hadn’t stopped shaking since he’d come out of the ice. He straightened it out so it laid flat on the denim of his jeans, willing it to be still. That didn’t mean anything.
Finally, your eyes left him as you turned to your messenger bag, pulling out a thin file. “Do you mind,” you asked, “if we talk about some of the concerns your team has for you?”
Steve’s jaw ticked. Not for. About. Fury had already done this. “I know their concerns. I don’t think that’s necessary.”
You shrugged casually, like it didn’t much matter to you either way. “I think it could be instructive to what we’re trying to do here.”
“Fine,” he ground out, but you didn’t react to his tone. You just opened the file. Before you had a chance to say anything, he leaned forward and spat out, “Listen, I know what’s in there. They think I don’t listen to anyone. That I’m a bad leader. That my plans are too risky. That I can’t keep anyone safe. Did I get everything?”
You bobbed your head a little, your expression impassive, your voice soft. “Not exactly. They did say that you refuse to listen to people. But they never said anything about you being a bad leader. Or not keeping them safe. They said the thing you’re most likely to risk on these missions is yourself. They’re worried about you.” He couldn’t hold in his scoff and you paused to look him in the eye. “Do you really jump out of planes without a parachute?”
He felt his eyes go a little wide like he’d been caught, doing what exactly, he wasn’t quite sure. He shook his head. “No, that’s not– You know what’s in my veins. If I were a normal man, sure, that’d be suicidal. But I have more strength, better reflexes, I heal faster. It’s not a big deal. It’s fine.”
Your brow furrowed as you leaned forward too. “But, you still get injured, don’t you? Even if it doesn’t last as long. You still feel all that pain. Steve,” and the way you said his name, for the first time, different somehow than the way any omega had ever said it before, he felt it like a knife to the heart, “why would you want to put yourself through feeling all that if you didn’t have to?”
He was up off the couch before he even realized it. The room was suddenly smaller than it’d been a minute ago. His mind was racing and he didn’t know why or how to make it stop.
“Captain Rogers.” You were standing right in front of him, holding your hands up at your chest, your palms out. “I’m sorry Captain, I didn’t mean to push. Are you alright?” All he could do for the moment was blink at you. “Hey, how ‘bout you take a deep breath with me, ok? A slow breath in through your nose.” 
He followed your lead and took a deep breath in. And, oh. He was struck by the scent of you. Lilacs and oranges. You smelled like spring.
“And out through your mouth,” you said quietly and he realized he’d been holding his breath. He exhaled slowly and you smiled. “Do you want to take a break?” you asked softly. “I have a few more questions, but I don’t need to ask them right now.”
He shook himself out of whatever daze he’d been in. “No,” he said, standing up straighter. “I’m fine. Let’s keep going.” 
He sat back down on the couch, but you hadn’t moved yet. “Are you sure?” you asked.
“Yes. I’m fine. Let’s go.” It was only at the look on your face, that he realized how short he’d been. He took a breath. “Sorry,” he said, forcing some calm into his tone. “I’d like to keep going.”
“Okay,” you nodded and finally sat back down across from him. You opened your folder again. “You were a little… vague in your intake questionnaire. So, if you're able, I’d appreciate it if you could just tell me a little about what you’ve been going through, how you’ve been feeling.”
He fidgeted a little in his seat and he saw you clock it. He stilled himself, then said, with as casual an air as he could muster, “If I was vague, it’s only because there really isn’t much to report. I’ve been fine.” He was using that word too much. He knew it. But he didn’t know how else to say it.
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry.” You shook your head. “It’s just, on paper? You’ve been through a lot in what must feel like a very short amount of time. And that’s just the widely reported stuff. What’s in the history books and on the news. It would be understandable if you were struggling. Anyone would be.”
“Well, I’m not anyone, am I?” he snapped. 
“No, you’re not,” you said slowly, calmly, and he hated how unflappable you were. “You’re a hero.” He just barely stopped his lip from curling up into a snarl at that. He’d had enough. “But–”
“Listen, I just need to get back in the field, okay? I just need another mission. That’s all I need. We don’t have to– None of this will be necessary if I can just get back out there. I understand that you’re a professional and you’ll want to seem thorough, so we can wait a few days. But I’m fine and that’s what I need you to tell Fury. If the team doesn’t want to work with me right now, that’s– that’s okay. I’ll do solo missions. Whatever they want. I just need to get back out there.” He was pleading by the end of it. He could hear it in his voice. But this was important. He needed you to understand.
You just sat there for a moment, staring at him, your brow furrowed. “I–” you started. “I think there may have been a misunderstanding, Captain Rogers.”
“Steve,” he corrected, “please.”
“Steve, I–” you paused, your lips pursed. “I’m sorry, whether or not you eventually get back on the team, that doesn’t have anything to do with me. I don’t work for SHIELD. I can’t make that decision.”
“What? No. Yes, you do. You can tell Fury that I’m fit for duty.”
“Steve. I work for a support omega agency. I’ve helped a few agents before, but I don’t know Commander Fury. I’m not here to report back to anyone. I’m just here to help you.”
All he could do was shake his head. No, this wasn’t right. There had to be a way to get back to work. You had to be the key.
“I’ve been contracted for a three month period, with the option to extend as needed. I thought this had all been explained to you. I–” You looked at him, pained, like you were willing him to understand 
  ‘Three months to start’ had been said to him at some point in this whole process, but he hadn’t thought that’d been serious. He’d been sure there was a way around it. Sure that you were the way.
He wouldn’t be able to survive three months. That he was sure of. Not without something to do. Not without a purpose. Not without something to fight. The room was getting smaller again. Closing in on him. All of that time stretching out ahead of him, without any purpose, without any point to him. It was all closing in on him.
He tried to take a deep breath, but it didn’t do any good. It didn’t do anything. Didn’t get him any air. There wasn’t any air. He was pinned down. Under all the water. Under all that ice. He was so cold and he couldn’t breathe.
“Steve!”
He was distantly aware of someone calling his name, but no one would be able to get to him. He was too far under. There was too much ice. He’d done too much.
“Steve. Hey, Steve! I’m here with you. I’m right here, okay? I’m right here.”
No, that couldn’t be right. He was alone. All alone and–
Lilacs. How was he smelling lilacs? And oranges. Fresh and bright. Spring.
He blinked his eyes open. He didn’t know when he’d shut them. He was huddled on the floor in front of the couch. In the living room. You were kneeling in front of him, your hands held out in front of you, not making contact, but one of your wrists was extended. Right under his nose. 
When he made eye contact with you, you exhaled, like maybe you’d been holding your breath. “Hi,” you said, relieved. “You back with me?”
All he could do was blink at you, at first. Then he looked around. The blank walls. The prefab furniture. The apartment. He hated this place. He looked back at you. “Yeah.” It came out in a croak. “I– Yeah.”
“Is it alright if I touch you?” you asked, inching closer. “You can say no.”
He shook his head without even thinking. “Please.”
As you reached out to touch him, hug him, maybe, he collapsed into you. You let out a little “oof” but didn’t pull away. You just wrapped your arms around him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched, really touched, like this. Not just in passing. Not in battle. Before the ice. Decades. Everything had been decades. 
His eyes were wet and he was so so tired. He felt wrenched open. Emptied out like there was nothing left. He exhaled in your arms and with it came a whisper, completely out of his control. “I just want to go home.”
You didn't say anything, but your grip on him tightened.
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thewickwheat · 6 months ago
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I'm going to a post full details under the cut, but a short run down:
I've sort of vaguely mentioned this here and there but this year I'm forcing myself to go on a long hiatus. Its been something in the plans for years now, but I can't put it off any longer because 2024 was the worst wrist pain I've dealt with and I don't want to risk permanently damaging myself if I haven't already.
If you're waiting on a comm, don't worry! My hiatus won't officially start until I've finished them all up (estimating April-May to finish up everything), so just bare with me!
Character Sheet comms are staying open
If you're able and willing to support me during this break, please check out my shops or my Patreon!
Ko-Fi - Physical/Digital Merch + Donations
INPRNT - Physical Prints
Patreon - Process Videos and WiPs
Full details and extra info under the cut
So this has been a long time coming but this year I’ll be taking a long hiatus. This is something I’ve wanted to do for years but I can’t put it off any longer due to how bad my wrist pain was in 2024. I’m feeling incredibly burnt out as well and my turn around times growing longer and longer is a very clear sign of it. It also means I’ve had a growing anxiety that if I continue at this pace I will end up doing permanent damage to my body, if I haven’t already. Creating art is the one thing I know I want to do for the rest of my life, be that drawing for myself or helping other people see their visions come to life, and I don’t want to put that at risk.  
So I can’t put my hiatus off any longer and I’m making this year the start. If you are still waiting on a commission from me, don’t worry! I am going to keep working on them and my official hiatus time won’t start until everything has been finished up. I’m estimating April to May to get everything cleared off the table since I’m going to work at a steady pace. Character sheet commissions are going to remain open, they are not in high demand and I can put them in a queue and so should anyone have interest in one during my hiatus, it could be something I pick up when I need the extra cash. However all other types of commissions are going to be unavailable for the foreseeable future. 
I am aiming for a 6 month long hiatus at the least. If I can go longer I will aim for a full year break. Freelance and commission work has been my main source of income for over 10 years now, so during this time I may also look into getting a part time job so I don't have to rely so heavily on art, which will also affect how much I’ll be able to take on in the future. I’m not quitting art during this hiatus, I do want to keep drawing and creating! But I will be working at a slower pace, creating for myself, experimenting and trying other projects. I also have more merch ideas on the list to work on! I’ve got some plush designs I want to have made,namely a new Zenos plush that will have doll fiber hair that can be brushed and styled.
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I will also design more tag style keychains with more XIV characters (like the Scions and other major NPCs), since people have really liked those a lot! I’ll also plan out some other ideas and maybe design some original design plushies or other merch. We’ll see!
If anyone enjoys my work and wants to help support me during my hiatus, please check out my available merch. I have prints on INPRNT, and a variety of items on Ko-Fi (limited prints, artbooks both physical and digital, keychains, stickers, etc.), I also have a patreon where I post process videos of illustrations. You can also drop donations of my Ko-Fi. I will be adding a goal that I’ll set at a high amount I don't expect to reach, just because I personally want a visual of donations or purchases during my break. Even small donations would mean a lot. If only 10% of my followers on twitter or tumblr bought a single Ko-Fi donation, it would be a substantial amount of money. I say this not to guilt folks into donating, but to point out small donations can still have a lot of power. And so I appreciate any support at all!
Thank you so much if you read this entire message. It means a lot to me and I hope a good long break means when I’m  able to get back to commission and freelance I’ll approach them with much more vigor and skill!
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soapybutt17 · 1 year ago
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The Ex and Why's
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Summary: No one knows much about Simon’s life aside from what was listed on his files. The family that had died a tragic death, the trauma that came with his actions, and the rank that made him what he was today. No one had realized that behind the balaclava wearing man from Manchester was a man that once had a heart and signed divorced papers he had constantly regretted signing all those years ago.. Character: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Ex Wife!Reader. John Price. Kate Laswell. Johnny "Soap" MacTavish. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Word Count: 9,787 Chapter Warnings: Angst with Happy Ending. Miscommunication. Mention of Minor Character Deaths. Mention of Divorce. Life threatening Injuries. Mention of Simon's tragic past and trauma. Not edited (sorry!) AN: I can now sleep in peace. If you enjoyed it why not visit my mini celebration and post your own requests I can write just like this.
Masterlist || Request are Open || 500 Followers Celebration
When you had learned about this new job, one thing you had so gotten used to doing was letting Simon know about it. But not this time, something about letting him back into your life wasn’t something you should do anymore. You were no longer married to him by your own choice and no one else’s. So you know it was time to wear your big girl pants now and stopped letting him know about it.
You no longer had any reason to give your ex-husband any updates about your life. A more selfish reason was how you just wanted to start a new life, away from him and away from anything that was related to him.
“Ms. Riley?”
You turned smiling at the man that would now be your new boss. You learned his name to be John Price, a Captain.
Being married to a man like Simon Riley once upon a time, you know some thing or two about what goes on inside of a military base. Even when he hasn’t talked much about it with you during your relationship or if he even gone as far as mention your existence to the people he had once worked with. You chalked it up to overprotectiveness and fear that they would get to you, and some night thing that he was simply embarrassed about you. Maybe it’s another reason why you had opted out of telling him about this new job of yours.
“Captain Price, it’s good to finally meet you.” You firmly shook the man’s hand. A good first impression was the best thing for you to do if it meant making sure you work for the man for the foreseeable future.
“Likewise, Laswell as spoke great things about you and I’m hoping to be able to experience it firsthand.”
You nodded with a smile. Working for Kate’s wife for nearly a few years beforehand, you had appreciated the suggestion for this new role as a secretary for the Captain ever since your divorce. She had understood you needed this change in pace in your life and this was much of a welcome change.
“I do hope it’s all good things.” You quipped right back earning a deep resonating chuckle from the older man.
“Well I think now that introductions as over and done with, let me show you to my office. I do hope you’re up for dealing with a handful of documents for me on your first day.”
“More than happy to.” You beamed following the man, his larger hand holding onto the small of your back as you began your journey into the heart of the base.
All throughout the walk, he was giving your directions to where most things were. You were warned how some men could be rowdy at time and he was more than happy to help in the off chance that any of his men would give you problems.
All you could do was smile, not wanting him to know that you were more than well equipped to punch or kick anyone that would get too handsy with you. One of the perks of having an ex-husband working for the military.
He continued on with how things go around in the base. Schedules for meal time and the curfew in the event that you would be staying in the base overnight. He had also showed you to where your new room would be located in.
“You would be a few rooms away from my own as well as the Lieutenant and Sergeants that I trust most. In the event that I’m unavailable, they will be more than willing to lend you a hand if you need it.”
You nodded before you finally arrived in his office. Opening the door for you, you were greeted with a spacious office. Even in the chaos of the military base, the man’s office was pristine, a few knick knacks and photos that littered his walls, as well as a bookshelf that housed an array of military strategies books. But the most alarming thing about his office was the other table that housed stack upon stacks of folders, papers practically spilling out from each and every single one of them.
“I may or may not have underestimated the help I truly need in this situation.” The Captain said sheepishly as you began opening the folders and gasped that most of them weren’t even ordered correctly even with the page numbers printed on them.
“I think I can manage this.” You blinked hoping you didn’t bite more than you could chew in this moment.
For the next few hours, your time was spent removing staplers upon staplers from the papers for each and every single one of the folders while you were inquiring to John the calls you would be fielding for him from now on and how he would want you to deal with it.
You had learned so much about the man in the few hours being in the same room as him. He was a man that wanted to ensure the safety of the world, even if it meant bloodying his hands up a little just to make sure of it. It showed with some of the missions reports that you may or may not have accidentally read too much into. You’ve also learned how much he hated talking to upper ranking officials if not needed, he was a man that hated authority yet he was working in the field that he was in right now from the way his comments about letting calls from upper ranks go to voice mail if possible.
“Will there be anything or anyone that I should be worried about for now?” You inquired making sure that you did not stir anyone in the wrong way if possible.
“I’m sure Laswell has told you enough to understand our work. Some men are more scarred than sane and if possible, I want you to make sure that you do not give anyone the wrong impression if possible.”
You know what he was implying and with your own experience you know far too well that getting yourself involved with another man in uniform would lead into.
“I’ve done my fair share, Captain. I don’t think that would be much of a problem with me.” You reassured him.
“Laswell told me you were divorced.” He began, huh, who would have thought the man would be the gossiping type.
“It’s been a few years,” You shrugged attention solely on rearranging the files at hand. “It took months before my ex-husband signed the papers, I wanted to think it was because he was deployed but I knew otherwise.” You muttered.
When you had made the decision to finally break things off with Simon, it was like pulling teeth with the man and his near avoidance about the discussion or where you would be sending the divorce papers. You had enough of it, leaving the home you once shared instead with everything you owned and left nothing more of you than the divorce papers alongside the wedding ring and engagement ring he had given you all those years ago.
“He was military too?”
“Something like that.” You nodded not wanting to think too much about the man. Even after everything, you still worried about you giving the man too much information in the event that he works for the opposing side if the chance may have it.
“Well his lost is my gain.” He snorts turning his attention back to the freshly arranged folders courtesy of you that were now ready for his signature. “No offense.”
“None taken, Captain.”
Eventually the man had excused himself for a meeting and had instructed you that no one would be allowed inside aside from him. He had also reminded you about lunch which you could head on out first or you could join him once his meeting was done. You’ve decided it would be best to join him for lunch for now, just to get a feeling of anyone that you would get into contact with on your first day.
With a quick goodbye, you were left on your own and you all but groaned at the folders still stacked up and yet to be touched. It truly made you wonder how the man could be so good in his job yet be so horrible with his paperwork. You will never understand.
Your eyes fixated for a moment on one of the pictures on the wall. It was your boss with three individuals. A blue eyed man with a horrible cut Mohawk but the biggest beaming smile on his face, his arm wrapped around a much younger man with darker skin but a bright eyes that twinkled with happiness for whatever was going on when the photo was taken. But amongst the camaraderie and enjoyment was a man in a skull balaclava mask that had such an empty but somehow familiar eyes, the man stuck out like a sore thumb even with the Captain’s hand resting on the taller man’s shoulder and beaming smile and a cigar between his lips. It was an odd mix of people but it was like family—it made you miss Simon for a moment before your attention got right back to the paperworks.
You can’t think of him now. Not anymore.
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After the events of Las Almas, Simon Riley had truly fought the urge to call you, to tell you how much you mean the world to him and how he was now more than willing to give you the compromise you had always longed from him. But a part of him, the bigger and much darker part of him had refused, slamming his own phone onto the wall in the sheer anger of everything that had occurred in the moment. You had made your choice because of his own action and he would be cruel to take that away from you.
“Heard Cap had a new Secretary, old man’s gonna finally keep his paperworks in check now.” Soap had ruining Simon’s sulking in the cafeteria.
It’s been a grueling few days. With new recruits he was forced to deal with in the morning and nightmares that you no longer could vanish for him at night. His life was nothing more than misery personified and he has no one else to blame but himself.
“Can’t say I’m surprise. Laswell probably set it up for him.” Simon muttered being more than within earshot when he heard both Laswell and Price arguing about the man’s need for necessary help with files. It was Laswell’s decision above anything else, it’s just a matter of time if the secretary would actually last with how everything goes around here in the base.
“Still, hope we’ll have a new bonnie around. Getting sick and tired of seeing Bampots all around.”
Simon didn’t even had the energy to question the man’s slangs, his attention solely back on his cup of tea and lunch—how horrible it was compared to your cup and cooking, but he never truly appreciated it until it was gone. His tea was too bitter even with the sugar and cream he added and the food that didn’t have the special kick compared to your own cooking. Even years after the divorce he was still so miserable without you in his life.
“Steamin Jesus.”
Simon could practically hear Soap melt from where he sat in front of him, his eyes directed at whoever was behind Simon. His curiosity got the better of him and his head turned and he was welcomed with the last person he would have ever believed to be walking besides one John Price.
“Yer lookin’ a bit peely wally.” Soap pointed out breaking Simon from his trance.
“English, MacTavish.”
“You look a lil’ pale, Lt. Like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.”
Simon could have at this point. As you walked besides Price towards the table he sat in. He noticed how unaware you were even at the sight of him only for him to realize that you had never seen him with his mask on, or in anything that has to do with his line of work—until now.
“Right, I think it’s time to introduce this lovely lass.” Price cleared his throat but he should have known by now that both Simon and Soap’s attention were already on them both. “This is Y/N Riley, my new secretary.”
Simon’s brows rose at that little tidbit. You still had his last name. He understood to a degree why you did so—your family that you had long cut off from your life after what they had done to you, but after everything that had happened between the two of you he wouldn’t have expect you to choose the lesser of two evils—being his last name.
“Riley? She a sister or wife to you, Lt?” Soap’s quick remark earned him a glare from Simon before his attention was back to you, how your brows furrowed before your eyes finally widen in realization.
“Purely coincidence.” Simon muttered.
“This is Sgt. Johnny “Soap” MacTavish and Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley.” Price introduced almost realizing at this point the similarity of the last name you both shared in this moment.
“Nice to meet you two.” You smiled, quickly to compose yourself and shaking both men’s hand.
Even with the glove Simon wore, he could still feel the all too familiar electric shock of your touch against his own. He looked at you how easy your eyes dilated at his touch. It scared him still how you had so much of an effect on him even after the years apart from each other.
As you and Price excused yourselves to get lunch, it left Simon wondering if this was the world finally punishing him for everything he has done in his cruel life. Give him the very thing he had wanted the most only to pull it away at every instance.
“Bloody fucking hell.”
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It’s been two weeks since you’ve began your new job as Captain John Price’s secretary. Two weeks since you had tried and succeeded in making sure you had avoided the man known in the base as Ghost—or to you, simply known as Simon Riley, your ex-husband. Every single instance that you were both placed in the same room (mostly in Price’s office), you both acted like you didn’t know each other, it was hard knowing just how close the man was after so long of a separation from each other.
But as much of an avoidance you’ve made for the Lieutenant, the same could not be said for the two Sergeants that had been dead set in making themselves both your companion while in the base but as well as your guard dogs from the ballsy few that would dare ask you out on a date. You appreciated the effort as much as it was not needed knowing it earned a dangerous glare from your ex in the process.
“Looks like you’re right at home.”
You jerked your head up from the files you were arranging at the voice of an all too familiar woman. A smile rested on your face at the sight of one Kate Laswell, your former boss’ wife.
“Kate.” You smiled an exhausted sigh escaping your lips at the sight of the woman. Both her and her wife had been the pair that knew what you had been through since your divorce and she was one of the two people that saw behind the façade you had decided to show the world.
“How are you holding up?” She inquired.
“Doing better.” You assured her. “Just a slight problem but nothing I can’t deal with now.”
“Oh no. Is your ex-husband bothering you again? I told you to just say the name and I’ll find some dirt on him in a heartbeat.”
You chuckled, knowing how that would be close to impossible with the man’s stand and rank in the Taskforce.
“Simon Riley.” You said instead and watched the way her eyes widen upon realization.
“Why did I not put two and two together?” She snorted realizing the small misjudgment on her part. “Does John know?”
You shook your head. You didn’t know how, but in the weeks of working at the base, you had been successful enough not to let the small detail spill. It was for both of your sakes and you feared that if you told the man, you would be fired and not him, not that you would want him to choose between the two of you.
“It would be a shame if John couldn’t keep you working for him because of your past with Ghost. I’m actually able to see his files being sent to me on time for once and he’s less stress in this past week for once.”
You blushed, knowing that that was a compliment, something that was rarely spoken by one Kate Laswell in the years of working for her wife.
“I genuinely don’t want to go either.” You spoke honestly. “Even with the situation.”
“Will you keep the information to yourself for now?” She inquired. “What does Ghost think of this?”
“I haven’t talk to him since I’ve gotten here.” You spoke honestly. “And I think it would be better if don’t talk to him about it either.”
“Talk to who about?”
Both of you had jerked your head towards the owner of the voice and it was Price with your husband, Soap, and Gaz in tow. You looked panicked at Kate hoping she could help you out this predicament with the man in the very room with them.
“My wife’s been asking how she’s been holding up since the divorce and if she’s gotten around to talking to her ex.” Kate brushed off and you wanted to face palm yourself, not the answer you were hoping for her to give.
“Wait you were married?” Gaz piped in with surprise.
“Was.” You corrected, eyes glancing towards Simon for a moment before turning your attention right back to the younger man. “But it’s nothing to worry about, you know how Kate’s wife is.” You tried your best to reassure everyone.
“Well that bloke lost something good that’s for sure.” Soap quipped right back with a flirty wink. You’ve learned this was the default with the man. “Right Lt?”
Both you and Kate found yourself looking at the man and it somehow clicked to him that you both were now more than aware of the currently predicament that fell before you and without another word left the office, slamming the door behind him.
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To this very day, Simon still can’t understand why he had signed those papers. Why didn’t he just talk with you and made a compromise. Instead he became an asshole that avoided any forms of communications with you until he was left with no other choice but divorce papers waiting for him at home and every single trace of you no longer in the home you two once shared.
In the deepest depths of his bedside drawer was the divorce papers that officially separated him from you, the two ring boxes that housed his wedding ring and the engagement ring he had bought for you. Around his neck, alongside his Dog tag was your wedding ring—the same wedding ring you had left on top of the coffee table of your home, with the divorce papers right under it.
It was his fears that finally came to life and he truly didn’t know why his body automatically signed without even reaching out to you first. To this day, in the years that has passed he still wonder what his life and relationship could be if he fought for your marriage.
Would he still be married to you right now? Would the two of you finally have the family you had always wanted? Maybe by now your first kid would have been three, he had always dreamed of having a daughter. A darling little girl that was a spitting image of you, a daughter he would protect with his life over and over again.
That could have been his life, but he was far too stupid for his own good. He was too much of a bastard that ruins everything good that comes into his life. He pays the price every single night he comes home to his apartment—empty and lacked the warmth that only you could ever give to someone like him.
He made his bed and he was sleeping in tears because of it.
“There he is, good you’ve got your arse here, LT.”
Another one of the mistakes he seems to be making in his life was joining the rest of the team in the pub and realizing that you have come to join them this time around.
Bloody fucking hell you were as beautiful as the first day he had ever laid eyes on you. There was the twinkle in your eyes he had once thought he had diminished as you continued on with whatever conversation you were having with Gaz with Price listening on. You had on your favorite red crepe dress that slightly showed some cleavage but not enough to be indecent, with your favorite locket that he had brought for you while you were still dating, and the first ever expensive Cartier watch you had brought for yourself (which Simon would have more than willingly bought for you if you allowed it) while saving up your checks.
Fate was nothing but a cruel sick man for giving this sight of you in front of him and never allowing him the taste he always craved. A gift that wasn’t his to accept—anymore.
“You know how traffic is, Johnny.” He muttered finding himself sitting beside the man and in the process finding himself sitting right in front of you in the process.
“Bullshit,” Soap snorted. “Stopped by a bonnie we didn’t know about?”
Simon glanced towards you, the momentary hurt that passed through your eyes before you continued on with your conversation with Gaz, now hearing you were both talking about your Uni days and how you found yourself involved with working for Laswell’s wife all those years ago.
“Don’t have the time nor the energy for another headache in my life.” He spoke realizing that it was the wrong thing to say with you in front of him. He could have said it if you were not here, but not in your presence, it diminishes every single thing he had ever had with you.
It wasn’t what he meant but he couldn’t truly take it back.
“I can second that.” You spoke finally meeting his eyes this time. An unrecognizable look in your eyes as you stared right at him. “And this is coming from someone that’s already made a mistake of ever getting married to a man in the military.”
This has opened the floodgate for everyone in the table to question you about your apparent divorce. He had no one else to blame for this than himself. He listened in now as you continued on answering questions about your relationship with him and the eventual divorce, but made sure it was vague enough not to have fingers pointed at him.
“So, you loved the man more than life itself and all that, why divorce?” Soap had asked the million dollar question.
“It’s gets tiresome to love someone that doesn’t want to help himself.” You spoke honestly. “Year of trying to understand him, only to push shoved away over and over again, it hurts and it gets tiresome. I just had to go before the love turns to hate.”
In the years since the divorce, there was never closure between the two of you. The forms of communications that you both had were mostly about him being deployed again or of you and your plans of moving around or changing careers. Never did either of you had the much needed closure that you both deserved—until now, not directed at him.
“If any of you ever attempt getting involved with a guy or girl make sure you’re serious about the relationship a hundred percent, not fifty, not seventy-five, not even fucking ninety. Because that small fraction you’re not giving them might be the very reason why everything falls apart.”
Simon finds himself blinking at the words that now escaped your lips. The downright resentment that still lingered in your tongue even after everything that had occurred between the two of you. He shouldn’t have signed those fucking divorce papers.
Marriage Counseling, they should have had marriage counselling like you had begged from him all those years ago.
He stood, excusing himself to order the next round of drinks. He doesn’t have it in him anymore to listen to your words cutting him to the very core.
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One of the biggest mistake about accepting Price’s offer of going out with the rest of the team for a quick drink was forgetting your non-existing alcohol tolerance. As the drink was now swimming through your blood stream, your lips become looser and there were few moments were you had almost spilled the fact that your ex-husband just happens to be sitting in front of you in the table you shared with the rest of 141.
“You sure you’ll be alright to head home on your own?” Your boss has inquired the moment it was announced the pub was closing up for the early morning.
You nodded with a smile, but the warmth that you were certain painted your skin and the dazed eyes, you were all too sure that it would be a big mistake for you to do. Go knows how dangerous it would be for a drunk like you to head home all on your own.
“I’ll take her home.” Simon announced and before you could protest, John had nodded agreeing that it would be the best thing to do and you couldn’t protest or show even a smidge of irritation as you were given a death glare by your ex-husband.
“Thank you for letting me join you guys.” You spoke towards your boss, the giggly duo of Soap and Gaz. “I’ll text once I get home.” You promised them following Simon out of the pub.
You took a deep breath as the cool morning air sobered you up for a moment as you waited for the man with his car. Frowning when you realized the man didn’t have his car with him but rather his death machine known as his motorcycle.
“Here.” He muttered practically shoving an all too familiar helmet towards you.
Like quick work, you had put on the helmet, ensuring to adjust the strap before the man does. You were still unprepared to be in close proximity with the man but here you were.
Watching him pull down the foot peg, he turned to you waiting for you to ride him—ride his motorcycle. With a deep breath you rode behind him, the skirt riding up your legs and he was quick to pull it down for your own decency before revving the engine on.
“Hold on tight.” He ordered and your body was on autopilot as you wrapped your arms around his waist as he sped off.
You know it was the alcohol but you find yourself smelling him, the all too familiar smell of his musk and cologne—the same cologne you had given him when he told you were promoted to Lieutenant. Your head rested on his back, cheek squished against the expansion of his back, feeling the way his back tense at your touch as it had the same effect for you feeling his warmth all over again.
“Where?” He questioned you as the bike halted at the stoplight.
You slurred your words, but you did your best to tell him directions to where your apartment was. Your sober self would have slapped you at the back of the head for letting Simon know about your whereabouts, knowing it wasn’t something he needed to know anymore.
For a moment as the winds blew against your cheeks, you were brought back to the memories of your time together. How you feared his driving and his bike more than anything else in the world but every single time he made sure you were at your safest with him, always did even in this moment.
You remembered the dates you would both have at night when he was at his most sleepless. By the park, your arms wrapped around him as his head rested on your shoulders. How you had carried so much of his nightmare even when you truly knew nothing but what he would let you know which wasn’t much and would only be in the instance that you would have accidentally heard during his nightmares.
You remembered how tired you were as much as you loved him, how much he had meant the world to you in that very moment but slowly but surely it wasn’t the same anymore. You felt the resentment before the anger for everything he wasn’t willing to give you. You gave him everything thing but he could barely give you anything in return.
“We’re here.” Simon announced, pulling away from him you turned and he was right. You were back in your apartment and you didn’t realize how fast time has flown since as you were deep in your thoughts.
Hopping down the bike with the man helping you, you turned to him and your mouth moved before you could stop yourself.
“Want to head inside—for coffee at least as a thank you?”
“I think coffee and a conversation would be the best thing for the both of us to do at this point in time, Love.”
You felt your pulse quicken as everything single thing you had talked about in the pub was coming back to bite you in the ass. Simon has his ulterior motive after all for wanting to escort you back home.
All you did was nod, heading to the door with the man following closely behind. You felt your hands shaking but you had succeeded in keying the door open. Opening the door for him, you walked further inside, opening the lights and toeing off the flats you had on.
You placed your wallet and keys on the coffee table and found yourself sitting on the couch waiting for the man to follow you.
You heard Simon close the door, the sound of the lock being turned and the sound of his leather jacket had you worried for what was to come.
“I fucking take you seriously with the bloody helmet still on your head.” He pointed out as he stood right in front of you, unclasping the helmet from your head and for the first time in a long time, you saw him up close and the way the darkness of his eye bags was the most prominent about him—it had gotten so much worse than when you were still married. Was it because of you?
“Sorry.” You mumbled as you watched him place the helmet on top of the coffee table alongside most of your things.
“Where’s the kitchen?”
You pointed towards you left and the man had made himself at him. The sound of cupboard being opened and the all too familiar muttering of horrible instant coffee you always wanted was heard. You wanted to let out a giggle but the sudden fear of the reality of your decision brought back something you never thought you would ever relive.
You sigh elbows digging onto your thighs, as your slumped your face into your hands. Why did you offer to have him here? Why did you accept the offer of him taking you back home? Why did you accept Kate’s offer of working for John? Why did you decide to divorce Simon?
In your own mini-panic attack, the smell of vanilla latte had you pulling away from your hands and you saw the cup of coffee already in the table and Simon was already sitting in front of you, without the surgical mask and without the figurative mask he was wearing at the base.
“Why are you doing this to me?” He questioned.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of all the places you could work why the base?”
“It’s not like I knew you were working for Price.” You snort. “It was Kate that suggested I work there—a new environment for me after everything that happened.”
Kate had called it her own version of exposure therapy. You truly appreciated her help even after knowing your ex-husband was working there in the same vicinity as you.
“You could have left?”
You snort. Aside from everything that came with the military, the money was too good to leave—but that was not something you would want to discuss with Simon knowing his intent to still provide for you even with the ink on the divorce papers were still drying.
“Why would I? You and I have nothing between us.” You spoke, knife sharp as his own words of calling you a headache to him.
“What you said to the team is that the real reason why you filed for divorce?”
All you could do was nod.
“You could have talk to me that you weren’t happy anymore we could have made it work.”
“No you won’t, Si.” You shook your head, arms crossed against your chest, you feared the words that would be thrown between the two of you now especially at your state. “I would have made it work.”
“What do you want me to do then? What could I have done then? You say one thing but mean something else?”
“Because every single time I wanted you to open up to me, you closed yourself up even more!” You spat right at him now. “Do you know how hard it was for me to bare myself to you about the shit in my life and in my family only to be reciprocated with how your family was fucked up but not an explanation for it?”
“That’s none of your business.” His voice grows dark, it was a sensitive topic.
“Then why were we even married if it wasn’t my business?” Your voice growing louder now, exasperated by this conversation. “What was the use of our vows if you would keep the smallest things a secret from me?”
“It’s not fucking small!” He screamed right back at you and you instinctively flinched at his voice then. Why was he being so cruel to you now?
“When I married you, I accepted you for who you are, I accepted that you can’t truly tell me what your missions were about or about whatever details about your deployment were. But even just something, anything that would make me believe that I was something more than a whore you could fuck and a maid that would take care of the house and cook you fucking food would have been appreciated.”
“You were my wife, wasn’t that enough?”
“No it was not, Simon.” You spat. “You never made me feel like I was truly your wife when you shut yourself down after coming home to me. You weren’t the same man that I had accidentally spilled coffee on when we first met.”
“If you knew me for the things I’ve been through you wouldn’t look at me the same way.”
“And how would you know that?” You questioned him. “How could you think for me when you don’t even know what I would think of you after everything we’ve been through?”
“You want to know the truth?”
“Yes. Maybe that way I can finally move on from anything that has to do with you.”
You know that was the wrong thing to say as the man cracked his neck and began to talk. About his life, about the abuse he had to endure at the hands of his father. He began to talk about the new beginning of his life when his father died and everyone tried their best to recover. He told you of his mother that he loved more than anything else at that point, of his brother, of his sister-in-law, and of his young nephew Joseph.
He told you about how he was finally at peace with the trauma of his life back then before things gotten to hell and back. He told you of the man named Roba, he told you of the abuse he had to once again go through at the hands of Roba’s men, physically, mentally, and sexually. He told you why he hated confined spaced after being buried alive in a coffin with a man named Vernon, a rotten corpse that he had to use the jaw of to escape death.
He told you of the death of his family, of Marcus Washington killing his family. Killing his mother, his brother, his sister-in-law, and his nephew that didn’t deserve being involved in anything the mission was about. He told you how he had to burn the bodies of what was left of his family and his identity in the process. You learned then why he was called Ghost and what it had meant for him and his past that continued to haunt him.
You were left stunned, unable to form words about everything that has happened to your husband. But it was the fact that now everything about him made sense. All the little things about his personality of why he was the man that sat in front of you today. It all made sense and it scared you that he was right. How you truly didn’t know what to say or what to feel now that you’ve learned of his past that he tried so hard to hide from you.
“Happy?”
“Don’t be cruel, Simon.” You whispered now, the tears were slowly forming from your eyes now, you wanted to cry for him, to mourn the family that he had lost and for adding yourself into the pain he was now enduring.
“Cruel?” He laughed, no humor in his words, malice was more evident. “What’s cruel is you still using my last name and airing out our dirty laundry to the men I work with instead of talking to me first.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You shook your head, stung by his words. He was right but you weren’t going to admit it right now. A small ounce of pride still clawing its way out of you. “And you know why I still used your last name.”
It was your family. You wanted to erase was little traces of your family remained. Even in the divorce, you always had it in mind to remain a Riley. It was better than having to be the ghost of your former self all over again.
He stood now, knowing it was all he needed to know. He walked away but somehow a lingering thought had you opening your lips all over again.
“Why didn’t you fight for me, Si? Why did you sign the papers back then if you truly didn’t want to break up?”
“Because no matter how much I loved and needed you in my life, I will always choose your happiness before my own.” He answered, opening the door and leaving.
The sound of his bike echoing as you were left to mourn the closure of your relationship with the man that had meant the world to you. With all the regret finally coming full force you were left knowing that you had broken the man more than he already was and there was no turning back from it anymore.
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It’s been well over a year now since you have been hired as Captain John Price’s secretary. Things were slowly but surely getting better for you and your career. Since the day you had talked with Simon, you wouldn’t say things between the two of you were getting better but you were civil with each other. You’ve interacted with him a few times, especially when it came to paper works but nothing more was said between the two of you.
Even with Price’s rule of not getting yourself involved with anyone in the team, it was becoming a mission for both Gaz and Soap to set you up with people on the base. Doctors or medics were somehow their number one target for you, but every single time, you find yourself relenting to just one date but never pushing for something more.
After knowing the truth about your ex, you didn’t have the heart to be so cruel to him more than you already were working in the base as him. Your free time away from base were spent with hobbies you had while still being married to Simon, baking and journaling, it was relief to be able to do it now with a new light was shed to the events of your marriage failing. You’ve also come to accept the offer of Kate’s wife’s therapist. It was a big help to be able to talk to someone else about everything you’ve been through.
You’ve learned to accept that you had your own mistake in the failure of your marriage just as much as Simon did. But your therapist has also come to mention that you needed to begin your own journey of healing from the what ifs of it, and live in the aftermath as painful as it was for you now.
“That dangerous?” You found yourself fearing for the worse at the conversation you were having with your boss as he explained to you the vague details of the upcoming mission him and the rest of the Task Force had for today.
With the chaos of prepping and planning, your boss was constantly on his feet and you were following him every step away for most of it to field calls and handle most of the paperworks to be sent out to sign and shipped to the higher ups. But to know a glimpse of what was happening and how your ex-husband would be involved in all of this worried you more than you would like to admit.
“It is what it is, if it meant a safer and better world, we would do it over and over again.” He explained.
“Just be careful, I still want to keep my job and I can’t if you’re dead, Boss.” You teased.
“Laswell can still be able to deal with you if I’m gone.” He retorted right back earning a quick laugh from you.
One thing that you had gotten so used to was his humor and how you had showcased your own as time went by working for the man. You appreciated him for being one of the two best bosses you had ever had in your career.
“Shouldn’t you be preparing for the mission?” You quipped right back.
“I should.” He chuckled standing right up in his full height. “Can you go check on the boys for me while I do?”
You could have refused, but a small part of you wanted to check up on Simon. Standing up, you had made your round, first stopping by Soap’s room to check up on him and notify him about the mission. Soap being the man that he was already suggesting you another man in the base beforehand.
“How about Micah? Pretty bloke that just joined the Medic team.” He began shoving the rest of his things into his duffle bag.
“Johnny, for the last time, I’m not into those pretty type you think I’m into.” You tried to indulge him in the conversation for now knowing it would ease him from the mission.
“What is your type so me and Gaz could actually find someone for you?” He pouted.
“Tall, blonde, dark and broody and with a heavy Manchester-accent.” You indulged him with description of the only man you actually loved.
“Why the fuck are you describing Ghost?” He snorts. “You got a thing for him? I thought you swore off anyone from the military?”
“Never said it was Ghost, Johnny.” You quipped right back. You hugged him and have him wrap his arms around you right back. “Be careful for me will you, I can’t live my life here in the base knowing you or Gaz aren’t here trying to set me up with anyone and everyone in the base including the married ones.”
“Hey we didn’t know Wilson was married.” He protested as he pulled away to look at you in offense.
“At this point I’ve already had dinner with half of the base, let’s keep it to a minimum when you get back. I might show you my ex so you can have an idea of what my type is.”
“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on top of the head before leaving to head to the meeting room.
You next stop was Gaz which wasn’t much of a journey with how close his room was to Soap’s. Knocking inside, you were immediately welcomed into the arms of Gaz. Unlike Soap that had been fixated with setting you up with someone in the base, Gaz was more focused on the next get together you could go to after the mission.
“I think me and Soap could convince Price to have a weekend in his vacation house in Cornwall.”
You nodded knowing it wouldn’t take much to convince Price if it meant helping the rest of the team with de-stressing and ensuring everyone has recovered mentally from the mission. But it also meant that you would be in charge of cooking knowing you and Price were the only ones that knew how to cook and you wanted your boss to actually have time to recover himself in the process.
“As long as you help me with grocery and prepping then you got a deal.” You winked pulling away from him with a smile already excited to bake them your famous apple pie they constantly beg you to make for them since the first time making it for them.
“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on the cheeks and just like Soap, finding himself heading out with his bag already at hand.
It now meant you had one last person you needed to stop by before the mission prep. You took your time somehow rehearsing what you could probably say to the man for his upcoming mission. You had your worry and you knew this was a dangerous mission.
Knocking on his door, you heard the gruff response from the other side of the door.
“Simon?” You called and immediately heard the door being unlocked.
You were faced with him wearing his skull balaclava mask. This was the side of him that you never gotten used to see but it was a part of him that you could never truly erase from him.
“What’s wrong?” He asked you allowing you to walk inside.
“Price told me to notify you about heading out for the mission.” You explained. “And I just—I just wanted to ask you to be careful on the mission.”
“Always.” He nodded.
A moment of silence has passed between the two of you before you were reminded of your therapist’s words. There was nothing wrong if you extended an olive branch to the man after everything was out in the open.
“After the mission, I would love to have you join us in Price’s cabin in Cornwall for a quick vacation too.” You added. “I know you’re busy with whatever you need to do to distress after a mission, but I would think it would be good to you if you joined. I can opts this one out if you’re more comfortable with that.”
“I’d go.” He nodded. “But I want you to join along and I want you to make me that lovely cheesecake you always make for me after I come home from deployment.”
You smiled knowing that it was always the same, a way to a man’s heart is always through his stomach.
“Anything else you want?” You asked wanting to give in to his all too simple request.
“And I want us to at least be friends, you’re part of the team now and they care for you and it wouldn’t do anyone good for us to act like we can’t stand each other.”
You nodded, heart aching a little at what he wanted. Friends. That was all he wanted and you would gladly compromise this time for him if that was what makes him truly happy.
“Friends.” You smiled, taking a hesitant step towards him for a hug but stopped mid movement as he pulled you right into his arms. The all too familiar warmth that consumed him.
“I wished things would have been different between the two of us.” He whispered kissing the top of your head. “I’d give you the world when I couldn’t give you myself fully.”
You closed your eyes wrapping your arms around his broad back.
“I wished I was strong enough for the two of us.” You whispered the tears slowly forming your eyes. “I wished I stayed a little longer for the two of us.”
“I never stopped loving you, Love. We might not be married anymore but you will be the only woman I will ever love truly with all my life and with all my soul.”
“You too, Si.” You whispered looking up at him allowing the tears to flow freely from your eyes now. “After everything that had happened between us, I will always love you.”
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It was the middle of the night when you heard the familiar ringtone of your old phone. The same phone that only Simon knew the number to. You blinked away the sleep as you pulled the phone right out of the bedside table.
An unfamiliar number took you by surprise and for a moment you wanted to not answer it thinking it might be a telemarketer—but something had pushed you to press the answer button and hear whoever was on the other line.
“Hello?” You whispered clearing your throat.
“Mrs. Riley?” The familiar voice of John had you tensing. You found yourself sitting up from the bed as he began to introduce himself and why he had called.
“What happened to Simon?” You questioned checking your bedside clock to see what time it was.
It was just past midnight, three weeks since they had left for their mission and this was the first time you had gotten any contact to any one of them.
“As of right now, we are not sure if he would make it through the night. If you want we could have you someone fetch you to see him.”
You felt your world still at the news. Just when things were finally moving into the right direction between you and Simon.
“I’ll be there as soon as possible.” You assured hanging up and changing into some sweatshirt and sweatpants.
The travel to the now familiar base was a daze to you as you drove. You weren’t much of a religious person, but your lips did not stop moving as you prayed. You prayed that your husband would be alright, you bargained that you would make things right with him if it meant he would stay.
“Don’t leave me, Simon.” You whispered over and over again until you arrived to the base.
You had ignored most of the surprise that the soldier on duty had shown at your sudden appearance—the fact that you were in just your ratty clothes was also something you chose to ignore as you made a beeline to where the infirmary was.
Huddled in front of the door was your boss, John, Soap, and Gaz. Each and every single one of them injured in their own way—mostly superficial from the bandages that plastered all over their beaten faces.
“John.” You called having three heads turning to you in question. “How is he?” You questioned as the tears begin to fall from your eyes at the reality of the situation coming to crush you. “How is my husband?”
The realization washed over all of them, of the secret you and Simon had hidden from everyone. The weight was too much as you were wrapped in the arms of the family you had found yourself becoming a part of.
“Will he be alright?” You pleaded, holding onto John’s vest. “Please tell me he will be alright.” You begged falling to your knees in front of him.
“The doctors are doing their best, Love.” John reassured kneeling in front of you, wrapping you into his arms as you continued to sob. “But Simon took most of the impact from the explosion.”
The reality scared you so much. You tried you best to remember the last interaction you had with Simon, the hug, the promise of a new beginning, and everything else in between. It all came crashing down to this very point.
There was a very big chance that you will finally lose Simon and it scared you so much more than anything in this world. You couldn’t lose him, not like this, not when there was so much left between the two of you to make up for.
“He can’t leave me, John.” You whimpered. “He promised me he wouldn’t leave me like this.” You screamed at the top of your lungs.
You were made aware of the vows you had made to each other when you got married at the court house. Of how he had promised to the best of his abilities that he wouldn’t die in the line of duty before he could have the chance to retire. He promised you a family, he promised you the world, and he promised you your happiness. He was your family, he was your world, and he was your happiness that you realize only when it was too late.
For the next few weeks, the world around you had become blur. You were now much of a permanent fixture of the Taskforce’s base. Morning and the afternoon was spent still working for Price, especially with the piling number of paperworks the mission had caused and your nights were spent in the infirmary, watching over Simon that has yet to awake from his slumber.
When the doctors had given you the green light that you can see him—it took you hours before you did. Even after John, Soap, and Gaz had finished with their own visit, it took so much of what little strength you had to finally see him in his state.
Broken bones, laceration, head trauma, blood loss and amongst the other injuries that the doctors has informed you should have killed him but he was still alive even in his current state. He still had fight in him, he was still fighting to keep alive.
“I’ve come to realize that post-mission Price was a whole different breed of a grump, more than he usually is.” You began talking to your still unconscious ex.
The doctor had told you about him being able to hear your voice and you took the opportunity to talk his ear off with him unable to give his usual sarcastic comments or grunts as response. There were days you told him about your day at work, days where you told him about what you had been doing since you left your home and tried and failed to move on from him, and there were days where you apologized to him, regretting the divorce and everything else that been the reason for the demise of your marriage.
“I think since the divorce I’ve realized a lot of shit about us.” You sighed leaning against the uncomfortable plastic chair. “If you wake up, I’ll try to do my best to convince you to take me back.” You mused arms crossed against your chest. “I know you don’t have as much of a happy memory after what happened to your family, but when you wake up, I want to make sure we make as much happy memories as we could together, I want you to tell me about what your Ma was like, what kind of brother Tommy was like, and how adorable Joseph was, I want all of that and more with you.”
You wiped away the tears that have yet to fall, you didn’t want to cry. You thought that you didn’t have any more tears to shed. The gravity of almost losing Simon was the wakeup call you needed and now it was nothing more than a waiting game until he wakes up.
“I fucking can’t be your friend, Si.” You admit. “I can’t be happy with just being your friend. I want you to be my husband again, Si. After almost losing you I know I can’t live knowing we haven’t fixed our relationship. I’ll do anything and everything to make it up to you, all the pain and hurt I’ve caused you.”
“Anything?”
You almost jumped from where you sat at the sight of the man whose eyes were now focused on you.
“Simon?”
“Am I just high or did you say what you did?”
“What?”
“That you would make up for everything?” He muttered groggily.
“I did.” You nodded blinking in disbelief that he was here, awake. Alive.
“Then marry me. Let me make it right this time, Love. I promise I’ll make it work, I’ll do my best to make you happy the way that you deserve.”
“Yes.” You answered almost immediately, finding yourself giggling about how ridiculous his second proposal was with his current state—but you didn’t want it any other way.
He requested for you to take his dog tag around his neck off and only then did you notice that your wedding ring enclosed around his necklace. Even with the years that passed, he still had it with him. The very same ring you two had brought together before you had headed to the courthouse for your marriage.
“Can I add another stipulation?” He held onto your free hand.
“Anything.” You smiled rubbing your hand against the callousness of his hand. “Anything to make it work, Si.”
“No more blind dates from the Sergeants.”
“They could never hold a candle to you, Simon.” You giggled leaning in for a kiss, the weight that rested on your shoulders slowly easing away.
You were home, you were back in the arms of Simon after all was said and done.
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starlightxsvt · 2 years ago
Text
Sentinel's Serenade | c.sc
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pairing ➳ bodyguard!Scoups x heiress!reader
genre ➳ drama, angst, romance, smut.
word count ➳ 29.5k (i'm sorry)
warnings ➳ car crash, ptsd, flashbacks of war, panic attack, murder, violence, guns, blood, death, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, female oral, arguments, coups is an a-hole but he has reasons, he was also in the military, Jun is a bad guy here(im sorry), jihoon blesses us with his special appearance.
synopsis ➳ As you start digging up an accident that has been brushed under the rug, you make an enemy who is out to get you no matter what. Amidst all the chaos you develop feelings for your bodyguard who has built walls of steel around him.
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"This is your new bodyguard, Seungcheol." 
Your head tilts upward, as you scan the man standing in front of you with careful eyes. He's tall and broad; exactly how you'd imagine a bodyguard to be, along with an emptiness in his eyes, so cold and robotic that would only be achievable after being through some heavy shit, you assume. Your father continues listing off his certifications and qualities but your brain doesn't capture much after hearing that he can speak sign language and is an ex navy SEAL; too busy getting distracted with his handsome features and dissecting him as much as you can just from looking.
The man isn't handsome in the typical sense, definitely not the handsome you're used to seeing in magazine covers and charity galas. No, he's ruggedly handsome, shielding himself with a tough exterior, his thick brows knotted in a frown and his full, red lips set in a grim line, blond hair brushed back neatly. 
With the way he looks in that expensive suit hugging his body, he could pass as a business tycoon but his aura is completely different; alert, strict, impenetrable.
His hand reaches out for yours to meet in a handshake after your father is done introducing him. You watch his extended hand for a while, observing little scratches and cuts that seem to still be healing on his knuckles before meeting his hand. As expected, his palms are calloused but cool. His grip is firm, just like the look in his dark eyes and for some unknown reason tingles shoot down your spine.
"Choi Seungcheol, ma'am." His voice has a deep timbre to it. It'd be perfect for audiobooks, you muse idly.  "He is to be with you whenever you are going outside till the foreseeable future." Your father states. There isn't much room for arguments here and you aren't too bothered having a shadow because this isn't the first time. 
You had a personal bodyguard six months ago and the man sustained a serious hip injury due to...circumstances involving you. Now that you are back and ready to face the world, you know that keeping a personal bodyguard is a wise decision, even if your father may have assigned him with ulterior motives. 
It's okay, the games are just beginning and you are playing for the long haul.
"Met your new guard on the way. Guy's a robot." Chan says as he strolls into the library with his hands in his pockets. You assume he's talking about Seungcheol, who is currently stationed outside the library room even though you told him to take a break.
A copy of Jane Eyre sits open on your lap as you look up to meet Chan's eyes. Offering him a small smile, you motion him to sit next to you. Your younger brother had been out of the country due to business for the past few weeks so it has been a while since you last saw him.
"So you are really going back to work?" He asks, a soft, concerning note to his voice as he sits down next to you on the divan. You sigh and give him an exasperated look. 
"I'm more than ready. Sitting idle hasn't done me much good." You sign. 
His eyes watch the movements of your hands before he murmurs, "It will be tough, you know... without your... voice. I don't want you to get into any trouble, especially after everything."
"I'll manage." You sign. You will. 
It has been six long months since the accident. Six months since you lost your mother. Six months since you have last uttered a word. Six months since you have been at work.
Six months since your life has completely been turned upside down. 
You have been thrown entirely off track, the reigns of your horse being snatched away by a dark force plotting far worse things.  But you will uncover them. No matter how long or what it takes. 
"Dad thinks you're not ready yet," Chan comments, breaking your train of thought. 
You huff out an annoyed breath. 
"I don't really care what he thinks you know," you sign and your brother snorts, looking at you with a fond, amused expression. "It will be hard." He says absent-mindedly. "To adjust back to everything."
You nod because you know it will be. You have already heard the board members express their dissatisfaction over you returning as the CEO. Lee publishing has been in its prime since last year and they're afraid it's gonna lose its position with a mute CEO. Funny how they forget you are the one who brought it to where it is today. Lee Publishings, your family's publishing company was handed over to you by your  grandfather. He started it from scratch and it became the first successful family business before he decided to hand it over to you when you became twenty. 
Your bond with your grandfather was always special, maybe because you both shared the same love for books and sense of humour. You grew up watching him read and collect books and naturally you picked up on that habit. As you grew up you watched him work closely, helping him wherever you could with the company which led him to hand it over to you. 
Not your father, your brother or any of your cousins but you.
He was lucky enough to watch you take on the role and make the company flourish for all three months before he passed away peacefully one night in his sleep. 
The feud began after that as your uncle, Jin Lee and your father started expressing their concerns, saying that you wouldn't be able to rule over the company well now that your grandfather wasn't here to guide you. While your uncle wanted the publishing house for himself and his useless son, Jun, your father wanted to hand the company over to Chan, believing that your brother would be a better president, and offering you the role of the vice president instead. It came to you without any surprise because your brother was always your father's favourite child.
You, however, had stood your ground and promptly refused, challenging them to try and take it from you. Thankfully, your brother was on your side, saying that it rightfully belonged to you and you were more than eligible to rule over it. Chan's disinterest may have backed off your father temporarily, you can tell, but your uncle is still desperate, now more than ever.
"You are going to move back to your place soon as well," Chan complains with a pout, breaking your train of thought. Giving him a sad smile you open your arms, inviting him for a hug which he gladly accepts. After one week of staying at the hospital and your mother's burial, you decided that you would stay at the mansion you grew up in, essentially your father's house, instead of your own apartment in the city, for the foreseeable future. This mansion held a lot of memories for you, especially with your mother. Breakfast in the garden, late night talks in the huge library and sipping on tea while watching the sunset together through the large window in the west wing.
You could never imagine a life without your mother yet here you are, living one. But it is time you slowly start going back to where you belong.
"It will be lonely here without you…and mom," Chan whispers.
You can only blink back your tears and hug him tighter.
Just on your fifth day back, you realise that things are not going to be anywhere near easy for you, not that you expected, but still.
The moment you get to work on Wednesday morning, there is a commotion outside the main entrance of the building which leads your driver to drop you and Seungcheol at the underground entrance. You are greeted by the bleak face of your secretary as you walk to your office, who announces that the vice president is there to see you. Once you enter your office, you indeed find vice president Jun, your dear cousin, sitting on your seat with the face of a cat who ate the canary.
Seungcheol, who is always trailing behind you like a shadow, moves— to drag him out of your seat no doubt, but you raise your hand as a gesture to tell him to stop.
"Good morning, Miss Lee. Though it doesn't look like a good morning for you," He grins, standing up and rounding the desk lazily while tilting his chin at the coffee table where the morning paper is lying. You pick it up and in bold letters on the front page, the headline greets you with: "President of Lee Publishings Accused of Employee Mistreatment."
It goes on and on about some bullshit of how you have been treating employees badly and holding their salary because you have apparently returned with a nasty temper as you can't speak anymore. You can't help but scoff, because the reality is far, far from what the paper says. 
Ever since you've been back at work, all you've ever done is stay inside your office and go through all the pending documents and close deals that were hanging. Your only human contact has been your secretary Hansol and your bodyguard, both of whom have more similarities to a wall than a human. Your previously bubbly secretary has turned awkward now, probably because you have lost your voice and holding a conversation with you proves to be hard. Seungcheol, on the other hand, is like a robot who stands by your door all day and only answers your questions as briefly as possible, most of the time with a yes or no.
Your hands form fists at your sides as you glare at Jun, who stands there, pridefully evil, watching you with a satisfied grin on his face. "Things are looking rather bleak for you," He tuts in mock sympathy as he strolls towards you, hands in his pockets. As he comes to stand right next to you, his hand reaches out for your shoulder to pat you but Seungcheol grabs his wrist and twists it, making him shriek in pain. 
"Fuck! Let go, you asshole!"
"You do not have permission to touch her," Seungcheol calmly states, still not letting go. You sigh and sign Seungcheol to kick him out, which he does immediately while your cousin screams in protest as you walk to your desk and sit down, rubbing your temples in frustration.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Seungcheol asks after closing the door behind him.
You watch him for a while, your mind running a mile a minute as you think of a thousand ways of payback. But then you remind yourself that you have to approach this calmly.  So you force a smile and sign. 
"Send my secretary in. —
A couple of days later, you are not pleasantly surprised to see your father waiting to greet you at the front of the house when you return from work.
Just as Seungcheol opens the car door for you to get out, your father marches towards you.
"What did you do, girl? I told you to stay put! Your uncle Jin is here to see you!" His tone is not friendly. In fact, you pick up heavy disappointment, which you expected. This was bound to happen after you fired your cousin Jun from his position today. 
You smile calmly at him before turning to Seungcheol and signalling to him that he is relieved of his duties. He looks at you warily and you have a feeling he wants to say no but he ultimately just nods and takes his leave, driving away the car to park.
"He's waiting for you in the backyard." Your father announces. As you start walking away he yells, "You better fix what you have done today! The company won't last if you keep on making hasty decisions like these!"
Deciding to ignore him you walk to the backyard with unfaltering steps and find your uncle standing there with arms crossed, feet tapping furiously. You approach him with a smile, not a friendly one but the subtle smile of challenge as he takes furious steps towards you when he sees you coming.
"You! What have you done, _____? You fired my son from his position!" He hollers, marching to stand in front of you, fury blazing vividly in his eyes. 
Silently, you hold eye contact with him.
"You think you can do as you please after you get into an accident and we'll just let you? Who do you think you are to fire my son?"
You smirk before producing your notepad from your bag and start scribbling.
"I'm the president of the company and based on our investigation your son was found guilty of spreading fake news about me mistreating my employees. The reporter who got paid to write it confessed himself."
You hold out the notepad for him to read.
"How dare you believe a lowly reporter over my son? Over your own cousin?" Your uncle is livid. "If you keep behaving like this then I'll retract all my assets shared with your father. You know I can take over the Lee Enterprises anytime if I want."
You roll your eyes. Yeah, do whatever you want.
You start writing down. "If you have nothing productive to say I suggest you leave now and have a chat with your precious son. I have had a long day."
As soon as he reads the words written on the paper he bats the notebook away from your hand, making you gasp. The look in his eyes is akin to a madman's as he takes a threatening step towards you and leans in to whisper in your ear. 
"If you don't want to end up like your mother I suggest you start behaving, ______." He sneers.
Your whole body freezes up like a block of ice as your breath catches in your lungs. Your uncle's eyes are cruel, threating, filled with a layer of secrets that you're desperate to uncover as he takes a step back. The look of panic on your face brings satisfaction to him as watches you for a few moments, letting his words sink in and challenging you to do something about it before he smirks and walks out of the backyard.
Your legs, which have been shaky until now finally give up and you fall on the perfectly trimmed grass, your breaths coming out in the form of pants. 
The horrible realisation sinks into you. 
Your suspicions were true. 
His words just confirmed that which means you need to up your game. Immediately.
You're surprised at how quickly, how easily you think of one person when you need someone to help you. 
Hands shaky, you type a message to Seungcheol.
— There's something different about Seungcheol the moment he arrives at your front gate in his BMW. As you watch him get out of the car and jog towards you, you realise it's his fit; he's not wearing his typical two piece suit. 
No, he's dressed in a fitted white polo and black slacks, the polo so tight that you can see the bulging outline of his chest and arms. Despite the negative thoughts brewing in your head you get distracted for a second as you ogle him unashamedly and take longer than you should to respond to his question. "Are you alright, ma'am? I wasn't expecting you to call so late."
You roll your eyes. It's only like eight in the evening. Though you can see why it was unexpected for him because he is relieved from duty as you get off work in the evening. Not replying to him, you tilt your head towards his car, indicating to him to open the passenger side door. He looks doubtful for a second before following your instructions.
"Where would you like me to take you?" Seungcheol asks once you're both inside the car and he has started the engine. You sigh and sign, "Somewhere far and quiet."
His thick brows knot into a frown as he thinks for a few seconds before simply nodding. Then, surprising you, he reaches over and pulls your seatbelt across your chest, which you just realised you forgot to put on. His being so close lets you get a really good sniff of his cologne and once again you get heavily distracted as you start wondering what he'd do if you leaned into his neck and wrapped your arms around him.
Where are these thoughts coming from? 
You have no idea. This is not the first time you've had them, though.
It is like this new disease you have caught. Your mind goes haywire whenever you look at Seungcheol for a second too long. The first time it happened was right after the rumour of employee mistreatment broke out and you were leaving from work. Even though you took the back exit through the underground parking, the press mobbed you, throwing a string of questions at you while their cameras kept flashing repeatedly.
Seungcheol, of course, managed everything very efficiently and got you away safely. The way his hand squeezed your shoulder, his face hovering near yours while he asked if you were okay was a feeling that has managed to stay with you very vividly even now. You were a bit spaced out but not for the reasons he was thinking; it was just that he looked too attractive and his touch felt too comforting, even though he was merely doing his job.
You are a tiny bit ashamed to admit that he has made your heart flutter since then, with every little thing he did. 
You don't get to dwell on your day dreams for too long because he's leaning back in his seat and pressing the accelerator, making you jerk softly.
A quiet thirty minutes of drive later you discover that Seungcheol has taken you to the beach right on the outskirts of the city. It isn't something you were expecting but you realise it is something you definitely need. 
As he parks the car on a small cliff overlooking the entire beach, you hear the soothing sounds of the wave crashing into the shore clearly. 
And it brings back vague memories of your childhood, when your mother took you to this beach because she loved the air here so much. As if in a trance, you get out of the car and stand by the cliff, letting the cool sea breeze wash over you as the salty smell in the air invades your nose. Your bodyguard stands by you silently for a while and without looking, you can tell that his eyes are on you, watching you carefully.
Sometime later, he breaks the peaceful silence, "Would like to eat something? There are a few food trucks nearby." He moves his head to motion at the food trucks parked far away, their lights blinking. Shaking your head no, you fill your lungs with the cool night air by taking one more deep breath before moving to the back of the car and leaning against the trunk. Seungcheol follows you as you pat the space next to you for him to come and stand. 
He does so and you let out a heavy breath before signing. "I need you to do something for me. Something that has to remain a secret."
Seungcheol raises his brows slightly before frowning. He doesn't reply immediately and you stand upright, holding eye contact with him. "It is very important to me, Seungcheol. I need to know if I can trust you to keep it a secret from everyone," you sign.
"Okay, ma'am." He finally responds. 
"Even from my father," you sign. "I know you're working for him but for this task, I will pay you separately so you will only answer to me about this, okay?"
"Okay ma'am."
"Good." You huff out a breath. "You are from a prominent security company, right? I need you to look into a man for me. Jin Lee."
"Your uncle?" He looks bewildered. "Yes. I need his whereabouts on 23rd March of this year. And I need to know who he contacted before this accident. Any call or bank transfer that seems remotely out of place, you look into it for me, okay?" He pauses for a breath before replying. "Okay, ma'am."
"Just call me ____, Seungcheol."
— On the weekend, you have lunch with Chan in the garden of the mansion, the place where you two had lunch with your mother, as he eagerly asks you about how you have been doing and assures you that he is here if you need anything. After lunch, you see him off for a meeting before aimlessly strolling through the hallways of your house by yourself.
The cleanup at your place has been completed so you are planning on moving back tomorrow and you realise it will be a while before you come back here. Through your walk, you come across a painting hanging on the large hallway towards your father's office that makes you stop to stare. 
It is a picture of your mother with you and Chan, taken when you were about twelve years old. It is your favourite picture in the entire house, maybe because you have a memory attached to it or maybe because it's simply magnificent, the three of your smiles shining so brightly.
It was a gift from your grandfather to your mother on her thirty seventh birthday and she had it hung here, right in front of a large set of windows that overlooks the garden. The afternoon sun falls right on the picture, casting it in an ethereal glow and it is almost like your mom is here, cheering you on with her beautiful smile.
With a soft sigh and tears withheld, you say goodbye to the picture and walk away. You are aiming to go straight to your room but the loud voices coming from your father's office makes you stop.
You realise the door is just slightly opened and you walk over to shut it but stop in your tracks when you hear your uncle's voice.
"You better get your daughter under control or it will not be good for you!" He is shouting.
"Are you threatening me?"
"I am warning you, brother."
"Jin, please, just let her be for a while. She has lost her voice. I am sure she will not be able to perform like before. Then you and the board can fire her."
You are somewhat hurt by your father's words but once again, they do not come to you as a surprise. "Exactly! Why should I let the company go to waste because of her poor performance? You tell her to fuck off or I will remove her myself!"
"Jin, please. You already got rid of Aileen. You do not have to go any further.
Your world has come to a stop.
You forget to breath, as you simply stand there, stunned, convinced that you heard wrong.
You had to have heard wrong.
"I got rid of her and I'll get rid of you too, if you don't listen to me! Don't forget I own the shares of the family hotel just as much as you do. It will not be a challenge to turn the board of directors against you. Imagine what will happen after that? Your most lucrative business will be completely mine and your dear son will become penniless."
There is no reply from your father. Or maybe there is but you do not hear it.
There is a deafening ring in yours ears as you muffle your sobs by clutching your mouth tightly and making a beeline for your room.
You cannot believe this. You absolutely can not. It is something you could not have imagined even in your wildest nightmare. Your father knows your uncle killed your mom, yet he is staying silent. Why? Why!
Granted, your parents were never happily married and growing up you have heard that your father has mistresses. It never bothered your mother because their marriage was only a business agreement in the very first place and she had all her attention focused on you and Chan. But to think that he is letting her killer walk free is unbelievable.
After all he lived with her, his wife, the mother of his children for so many goddamn years!
By the time you have entered your room, you are full on crying, ugly and loud. Tears are blurring your vision as you flail around the room, helplessly, aimlessly, devastatedly. 
And before you know it, you are throwing the thousand dollar porcelain vase by your bedside to the ground.
The piece shatters into bits and the sound oddly satisfies you, prompting you to throw another one. And for the next few minutes you throw anything you can find in your room, not caring how valuable they are, not caring that a shard of glass has ripped the skin below your left thumb, making you bleed.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck you! Fuck all of you!" You yell at the top of your lungs, not caring to keep up the facade anymore.
Once you have run out of energy, you stop to look at the mess you made, glad that the messy room and the pain from the cut on your hand makes your mind go blank for a while.
But you do not miss the small, almost inaudible creak of the door to your room. Your head whips into the direction to see none other than Seungcheol, standing right out front, his eyes wide and his lips parted in a small gasp of surprise. 
You forget to breathe as you realise he might have been standing there for a while and he witnessed everything. 
Everything.
He knows your secret.  He knows that you are not mute. Before you know it, your feet are moving as you push open the door and yank your bodyguard into your room, not before glancing left and right down the hallway to check anyone's presence.
As soon as you lock the door, you press him against it and lean on your tiptoes, inching your face closer to him as you whisper, "Keep. This. A. Secret."
You had meant for the words to come out threatening but your tear stained eyes and cracking voice doesn't help establish that image.
Seungcheol stares at you with a gaze you are quite unable to decipher. His eyes are soft, full of wonder and you think you can almost spot admiration and something more in them and for a moment, you find yourself lost in the sea of his gaze. 
"______". He calls your name softly. His hands come to your upper arms to hold you gently as he puts some distance between the two of you before ushering you towards your bed and making you sit down. "Your secret is safe with me," he confirms as he sits next to you. "But I am glad you can speak again." He murmurs, giving your shoulder a soft squeeze as he looks around the room you just trashed.
You let out half a sigh of relief, knowing that your secret is safe and you find yourself speaking before you can even think. "I got my voice back quite a while ago. Two months after the accident, actually." Seungcheol's head whips towards you, his eyes widening in surprise.
"My uncle seemed very happy when I lost my voice and he was being weirdly nice to me. I already had my suspicions that the accident was an inside job so I pretended to act mute." You whisper, eyes trained on the floor.
How right you were!
It was an inside job but it had its roots spread out much farther than you thought. Your uncle killed your mother while your father sits there in silence despite knowing that!
The thought makes you shake your head as a dry, mirthless laughter wrings out of your throat. Your head falls back as you laugh like a mad woman as Seungcheol watches you, absolutely perplexed.
He gently tries calling your name. "______—"
"My father knew!" You are yelling between laughter. "He fucking knew!"
The poor man only looks more confused.
"He knew— he… he knows my uncle killed my mom but he is staying silent! He said it himself! I heard him! Do you understand, Seungcheol, my father is turning a blind eye! He is choosing to save his fucking business over me, over his children!"
Seungcheol looks absolutely baffled upon hearing your words as he falls silent with a bleak expression. He does not have the adequate words to respond to that and he simply does not know what he can do at this point to make you feel better.  However, he takes notice of the cut below your thumb and reaches for your hand, setting it down on his thigh while he takes out a handkerchief and gently ties it around the injury. "You hurt yourself," he states quietly, almost to himself before meeting your eyes. "I know what you heard was painful but you need to take care of yourself. For your mother, at least."
And the damn breaks.
You break into a full on sob as you wrap your hands around his large shoulders, molding yourself against him as you cry unceremoniously in his chest. Seungcheol's arms wrap around your body in an effortless blanket of security as he rests his chin on top of your head and strokes your head while you try to burrow yourself deeper into his chest. 
It takes a while for the messy array of tears to subside and once you have calmed down a little, you take notice of his white shirt which is now completely wet where you rested your face. "I'm sorry," you croak weakly, trying to pull away but he holds you by the arms and makes you face him by tilting your chin with his finger.
"There is nothing to be sorry for, okay? Now tell me what I can do to make this a little better. Just so you know, my team is almost done digging up about your uncle. We should have a solid update tomorrow."
A small sob of gratitude and relief escapes your throat and Seungcheol immediately shushes you, his eyes helplessly searching for yours. "C-can you please ask them to look into my dad as well," you hiccup, saying the words you never imagined would come out of your mouth. "I need to know his whereabouts before the accident."
Seungcheol assures you with a nod while his hand strokes your back soothingly. Exhaling a loud, defeated sigh, you wipe your tears and mutter. "Please help me pack my bags, Seungcheol. I am moving back to my place. Tonight. I cannot stay here a second longer."
The man looks like he wants to protest but goes against it and simply nods, getting up to retrieve your bags from your closet.
After hastily packing your belongings you waste no time to march out of the house with Seungcheol trailing behind you. You leave a note on the kitchen, simply saying something came up and you had to leave early.
You are extremely grateful that you do not come across your father because one look at him and the ticking time bomb inside you would explode and you definitely cause a scene.
As the night grows deeper slowly, you isolate yourself in your room once you come back to your apartment. Despite Seungcheol's insistence, you tell him to call it a day and lock yourself up in your room, throwing yourself a pity party. It has been a while since you had such a restless night— the last one being after the accident, and it takes a long long time for sleep to come.
When your eyes finally fall shut, hues of orange and blue have already grazed the sky. 
You do not feel like your best self in the morning but the news Seungcheol brings is enough to get you back on track. 
The manila file sitting on your desk is a gold mine, it's contents spread throughout the surface as you sit in silence, hands linked together under your chin, your brain finally connecting the pieces together.
Seungcheol's friends found a shady bank transfer made by your uncle, two weeks before the accident. The tip led them to an old gang who, after applying some tactics, admitted to taking money from Jin Lee in order to commit a hit and run. After digging around some more they found papers that now lie on your table, a clear proof of your uncle's deal with the gang, which they kept as insurance. Among the documents, one particularly catches your eye.
It is the information of the driver of the truck that hit your car. 
The picture is like a jolt of electricity through your system as you are immediately taken back to the scene of the crash, the moments after where you were hovering over the brink of consciousness. You remember seeing a man peeking into your wrecked car, a man with a scar on his left cheek and all this time you could not fully believe that to be real.
But it was.  You did not imagine it. The picture on the document is that of the driver you saw that morning, the man with a scar on his left cheek, his eyes dark and blank, his lips twisted in a line of malice.
"_____?" Seungcheol's gentle voice guides you out of your head. "My friend had his confession recorded. Would you like to hear it?"
"Of course."
"I need to warn you…it is pretty detailed. About the accident, you know." He looks guilty, even though he has no reason to be.
You swallow a lump in your throat as your heart beat picks up. Are you really ready to revisit that morning? Relive all those feelings?
You have to.
Seungcheol pushes a voice recorder towards you on the table, pressing a button to turn it on.
"I was told that there would be only a girl and her bodyguard in the car! I swear I didn't know her mother would be there as well! I did not mean to kill the woman! After I hit the car, I went to check and…and the older woman was dead! The girl looked barely alive and I didn't think she would survive…."
There is a buzzing sound in your ears. It is deafening.
You are transported to a void where these words keep repeating and repeating, pulling you down, sucking you deeper into a pit of despair.  It hurts so much you are sure death would be easier.
Your head hangs low, silent tears trailing down your cheek as you stare at your lap. Seungcheol calls your name multiple times, asking if you are okay but you cannot bring yourself to form a reply.
The pain, the guilt, the shame, the anger— everything is overwhelming. These feelings consume you whole and dry you out until you are left with an unbelievable urge to scream and holler and cry. 
"______, please, can you hear me?" Seungcheol's touch on your shoulder makes you jolt. You look up to find him standing next to you, eyes glazed with concern as he peers down at you.
"I am fine," you reply after taking a shaky breath.
"Are you sure? Maybe you should call it day—"
"Seungcheol?" You interrupt him. You wipe the tears clean and sit up straight. "Can you call my lawyer? I need him here as soon as possible."
Bad news awaits you the next day when you return home from work. 
As usual Seungcheol walks you to the door of your apartment but you realise something is up when he abruptly stops after stepping out of the elevator and turning towards the door to your place. Following his line of sight you realise he has taken notice of the slightly open front door to your house. 
Your heart drops as a small gasp leaves your lips.
Someone broke into your place. And it does not take a genius to guess who Plus it also confirms that your uncle has found out you have been snooping around. A calm man like him does not make a move unless things are really dire and this proves that he is desperate to get that evidence out of your hands.
Seungcheol tenses up beside you and uses a hand to push you behind his body in a protective manner as he steps closer to the door. With the other hand he pulls out his revolver, holding it out and pointing it straight.
"S-Seungcheol—" You start panicking.
He shushes you before you can say much, eyes trained forward as he takes measured steps. Swallowing the bubble of fear, you hold his back as you follow him into your apartment. 
The storeroom which is right on the left after entering is the first place Seungcheol checks, and when he finds it clear he pushes you inside haphazardly.
"Don't come out until I get you." He commands, shutting the door on your face and clicking the lock before you can even process anything. Baffled, you stand still inside the dimly lit room, carefully listening for any sounds, while a thousand different thoughts run through your head.  This building is one of the most secure residential buildings in the city and breaking in here is quite literally impossible. Which means it is clear your uncle bribed someone on the inside and the realisation of how scary things are getting dawns on you, making you chew nervously on your lower lip as you start to grow restless.
Thankfully, a quick while later Seungcheol opens the door, a wary look on his face and you can immediately tell something is wrong. As soon as the door opens, you push past him and head for your bedroom, only to find the place absolutely trashed. Everything is a mess; from your bed to your closet to your dresser and it is evident that someone took their sweet time to comb through every one of your possessions and as you take in the havoc, the last of your doubts go away.
They were undoubtedly looking for the documents and the recorder. 
Your hands fist at your sides as tears of anger and frustration gather at the corners of your eyes. It only amplifies when you see one of your most precious belongings lying face down on the floor— a picture of you and your mother taken on your eighteenth birthday. 
Immediately you kneel and pick the frame up only to find it broken, making you heave out a helpless cry of anger. As you clutch it to your chest, your eyes scan the mess around you and a sense of doom settles in your gut. So this is what your life has come to now.
"Come. You're not staying here." Seungcheol's quiet command disrupts your thoughts.
"W-what? What do you mean? Where am I gonna go?" You scramble to stand up.
"At my place. This place isn't safe, _____." He pins you down with a serious look. "Pack your essentials and I mean absolute essentials. Your passport and any important papers."
"Wait, I—"
"Now." He commands. "I am gonna make some calls to find out who did this. Be ready in ten." He is walking out of the room while dialling a number, leaving you flabbergasted.
A while later you sit on the passenger's seat next to Seungcheol as he pulls the car out of your underground parking and onto the busy street, eyes focused on the road in silence. The only sound surrounding you is the sound of the bustling city and it isn't enough to ease the thick tension in the car. Seungcheol's jaw is clenched and his lips are pressed into a thin line as you observe him while he stares straight ahead. "What do we do after going to your place? I can't just hide forever." You break the silence with your words, your eyes trained out the window. It looks like it's going to rain.
"You'll stay in my place until the threat is removed. I'll soon receive the CCTV footage and from there on we can track down who ordered to invade your home." He declares.
"It was my uncle." You say without much thought.
Seungcheol turns to look at you for a beat before focusing on the road again. "You sound sure." He murmurs.
"Who else would it be then? He is after the evidence." You reply. Seungcheol remains silent for a beat before agreeing with a hum. Another silence follows after that. You take occasional, shy glances at him while he drives and when the car stops at a red light in an intersection, you call for him, making him turn his head to look at you. "Seungcheol?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you. For today."
He stares at you quietly, not blinking. "I just did my job."
"No, you are doing a lot more. You are helping me out in so many ways and I can only keep myself together thanks to you."
He only stares more at you. His gaze is intense and his eyes are hypnotic; if you stare too long it unnerves you, dissects you open. "You will be fine, _____." He replies after a long pause. "With or without me."
His words trigger you. 
With or without me?
You want to yell that he has to stick around however long you want him to but his cold demeanour makes your thoughts appear silly, even to yourself.  You are clearly looking for something more, much more than he wants to give you.  You know he would probably burn the world for you, not because he loves you but because he is a loyal person and probably because he pities you. 
Just a little bit. And you accept that. — Seungcheol's place is a canvas of grey and black and white. It is minimalistic and clean, a one bedroom apartment on the tenth floor in a quieter part of the city. As he walks you through his humble abode, he gives directions on where everything is and finally opens the door to his bedroom, leading you in before announcing. "You take the bed. I'll sleep on the sofa."
You do not protest because you know he would never listen. Instead, you almost ask him to share the bed with you but prevent going with it because you cannot trust yourself to remain professional while he sleeps so close to you with that tempting body of his.
"I'll leave you to rest. I'm going for a grocery run. Do not open the door for anyone but me. If there is any problem, call me." He uses his no nonsense tone and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. 
"Okay, okay." You watch him leave before shutting the bedroom door and sitting down on the floor, letting out a deep breath, one you've been unconsciously holding for a while.
As you watch the orange sky from the large window of Seungcheol's bedroom, the events of the last forty eight hours wash over you. You can't help but admire yourself at how calm you are. You woke up feeling numb today and you've been functioning on autopilot the whole day. Seeing your place ransacked did evoke some emotion within you but then again, deep down you were expecting something like this to happen once you had the evidence. 
You're running on pure adrenaline and you know you cannot stop until you have put your dear uncle behind bars. 
And maybe, even your father. 
He's an accomplice, no? He knows very well who killed his wife yet he decides to keep quiet, which makes him more vile to you. You find more hatred towards your father brimming within you, than towards your uncle. Yes, you expected him to play unfair but your own father knowing the culprit of your mother's death and simply burying it under the rug?  That, you absolutely cannot tolerate. 
A number of different scenarios run through your head on how you can bring them down. Despite having this irresistible urge to just run to the police with the recorder, you remember your lawyer's words.
It won't be enough. 
A few documents and a tape of confession are not enough to bring a man like Jin down. He has very strong connections with law enforcement and an even stronger set of lawyers. You need a solid witness. You need to catch him red handed. You need to create a scandal he can't recover from. You need to gather more proof. Proof so irrefutable, that his entire empire comes crashing down. 
And good for you, your uncle has already started setting up his doom. Trashing your place was his first mistake, the first piece of the domino. Now, it is a matter of time until everything collapses. You pray he will keep on making more mistakes. 
In fact, you know he will. He will do anything to get his hands on the evidence and you will stack all his actions against him at court. And when the time comes for the nail to hit the head…
You're going to be the bait. —
Somewhere in the middle of the night, you wake up from your sleep. Falling asleep came to you easily after eating the dinner Seungcheol cooked and then curling up in his bed where the sheets smelled subtly like him. It led you to have the best sleep you had in a while but now that you are awake, there is an itch in your throat, making it dry. 
So, quietly, you get up from bed and walk to the kitchen, a small light in the hallway guiding you to find a glass and pour yourself some water. 
As you sit on one of the breakfast stools and gulp it down, you watch Seungcheol sleeping on the sofa. The blanket that was probably on top of him once has fallen on the floor, the small space clearly not sufficient for his large frame as almost half of his body hangs out of the sofa. You almost feel bad for him and wonder how he can sleep in such a tiny space but it is pointless to feel guilty. He would never take the bed, no matter how much you offered.
As you take the last few sips of your water, you catch the moonlight draping over half of his face, casting it in an ethereal glow. It's stunning how beautiful he is. His usual stoic face is now relaxed, his full brows not knotted in a frown, his long eyelashes resting against his cheek, his plump full lips parted just a tiny bit. 
Unashamedly, for the nth time, you find yourself wondering how it'd be like to kiss him. You can't remember the last time a man made you feel like this, if ever. Your relationship with him should be strictly professional yet as you spend more time with him your mind keeps on entering forbidden territories.  Which is sad because you know he feels nowhere near that for you. Maybe he even has a girlfriend, or a wife— though you see no ring in his finger. Maybe a divorced wife with whom he parted ways begrudgingly, someone who still haunts his dreams. 
As you conjure up various scenarios of his relationship status, Seungcheol stirs in his sleep before a quiet groan escapes his lips.
You crane your head to take a better look at him, to see if he's awake but you soon realise he isn't as another pained groan leaves his lips, his large body shuffling in the congested space.
Is he having a nightmare?
You immediately get up and dash towards him, turning a light on the way and kneeling right beside the sofa. There's a light sheen of sweat coating his face and his eyebrows are marred in a frown as his eyes remain squeezed shut, his body writhing desperately "Seungcheol? Seungcheol!" You yell, grabbing his shoulders and trying your best to shake him out of whatever that's haunting him.
"No! No! Please, no!" The pain and helplessness in his voice halts your breath as you continue to shake him awake while his hands come to grab your arms in a tight hold, almost like an anchor. His grip only grows stronger as he yells in protest and you try your very best to wake him up once more. "Seungcheol! Please! Wake up! It's a nightmare!"
A set of blown out pupils look at you the next moment, and in a moment of silence a small shaky breath leaving his lips before they part slightly in shock. Then, before you know it, you are falling on your ass as Seungcheol shoves you away and scrambles to the farthest corner of the sofa. 
Even though your ass hurts, you know it was an unintended reaction. You whisper in a voice so soft as if you're talking to a wounded animal, "Seungcheol, it's okay. You're safe. You were having a nightmare."
The man sits still, hugging his knees as he still tries to catch his breath, a horrified look on his face. Not being able to bear it anymore, you immediately move to him and even though he flinches and tries to move away at first, he gives in when you wrap your arms around his shoulders. 
Soon he's burying his face on your neck as his large body curls around you, his hands gripping your night shirt tightly as if he's trying to mould himself into you. You feel his harsh pants on your shoulder so you try your best to soothe him, rubbing his back in repeated motions while whispering words of solace.
"It's alright, Seungcheol. I'm here. I have got you. It was just a bad dream."
You don't know how long you hold him like that but it seems to be a while, which feels too soon to you because Seungcheol pulls away from your arms before scooting away, putting a little distance between the two of you. He doesn't meet your eyes as he sighs, annoyed and dejected, while rubbing his temples.  "Are you okay? Would you like some water?" You offer. He shakes his head, looking down, his usual stoic mask settling back onto his face. 
"Why are you up?" He asks, his tone somewhat snappy. You frown. "I got out of bed to get a glass of water. You were having a nightmare, Seungcheol. Are you sure—"
"It's fine. It happens."
You are stunned at his lack of care. Is this a daily occurrence? Does he wake up every night, alone and screaming from his nightmares? Why is he allowing this to happen? Does he have someone to talk to? You want to ask all these questions but then decide against it due to the situation. Instead, you shuffle a little closer to him and start fixing his messy hair with a soft touch.
Seungcheol completely freezes at first and you expect him to bat your hand away but he doesn't. So you bite your lip to hide your smile as you finish fixing his hair before wiping the sweat off his brow. 
But you don't get to go far with that because Seungcheol grabs your wrist in a gentle hold, stopping you. His eyes scan over the length of your arms before he meets your eye. "Are you okay? I hurt you, didn't I?"
You simply shake your head and offer him a small smile which doesn't seem to convince him. His brows frown once again as you see him start overthinking so you put a stop to them. "I'm fine, Seungcheol, really. If you should be worried about anything, it is yourself. You're not on duty right now, you know. You can relax. I'm not a priority now." His eyes bore into yours and for a moment you see something foreign in his eyes. Something akin to vulnerability, longing, maybe even desperation.
"Go back to sleep, ____." His voice is gruff. "You've had a long day."
You want to protest but decided not to as huff out a breath and cast one more longing glance at him, hoping that maybe he would change his mind, before retreating to your room.
— It's ten o'clock when you wake up. 
Your first thought is that you are late for work, which makes you sit right up, ready to bolt out of bed but the next moment you realise it's a Saturday.  And you are not at home. You are at Seungcheol's place.
So you take your sweet time leaving the bed and freshening up, shuffling through Seungcheol's products in the bathroom. You also sneak in a sniff of his aftershave and cologne, smiling at yourself at your perverseness.
When you step out of your room, you find Seungcheol sitting on one of the breakfast stools, going through some documents with rapt attention. You stand by your door frame for a while, admiring his built frame from behind, his large back muscles and shoulders stretched beneath a white tee but you don't get to stare at him too long because his head turns around and catches you in the act.
"Good morning, _____." He greets.
You clear your throat, shuffling to the kitchen counter and pour yourself a glass of water, pretending as if he didn't just catch you eye fucking him. "Good morning, Seungcheol." Your voice is soft.
"Would you like to have breakfast now? I can make you some toast and omelette." He kindly offers. "There's also cereal if you want."
"I think I'll go with the cereal," You murmur, taking a seat opposite to him. You haven't had much of an appetite for the past few days which isn't really a surprise considering the situation.  Seungcheol goes back to scanning the documents in front of him while you sit in silence, sipping your water. You wonder wether you should bring up last night, maybe ask him if he's okay now but you have a suspicion it won't be received well by him. As you chew on your lip and debate the idea, Seungcheol looks up to meet your eyes, his face ever so serious.
"You have to take a break from work for a few days." He announces.
"What? Why?"
Probably for the first time, you see him hesitate which stresses you out. "What's wrong, Seungcheol? Tell me."
"You have received a few death threats, _____. I found them in your mail. For the time being, you need to lay low, appearing in public puts you at risk. In fact, we're leaving for a safe house today."
"Wait- what?" Your brain is trying hard to catch up. "Safe house? What are you talking about? I'm not safe here?"
"They know your address, _____. It won't take them long to get mine. I need to get you to an untraceable place."
You don't know what to feel or even how to react. You're at a loss as you try to figure out your next move. "What do those threats say exactly? Can I see them?"
Seungcheol's face hardens. "No. They're not pretty to look at." His voice brings shivers down your spine as a wave of nausea hits you. You had no idea your uncle could stoop so low. But then again, he's a murderer so you shouldn't have underestimated him. 
Seungcheol must have seen your face pale because he calls your name firmly, grounding your attention to him. "You are safe with me, _____. You just have to trust me, okay?" You find comfort in his eyes so you find yourself nodding immediately which satisfies him. "Get ready. We'll leave in two hours."
"Where are we going?"
"Don't worry about that."
"Does my father know?"
"About the death threats? Yes. He didn't seem too concerned about it though. Said it might be a prank."
Somehow, you're not surprised.
"But not about moving you to a safe location," Seungcheol adds. "No one needs to know about that. It's safer that way."
"Even my brother?"
"Yes. I suggest you call him and tell him you'll be out of reach for a while."
You deflate at that. Chan is going to be worried. And how on earth are you going to explain everything to him when all of this eventually unveils?
Seungcheol gets up, gathering all the papers and just as he turns to leave, he stops. "Oh, and ____? Don't come near me when I'm having a nightmare next time."
What?
"But Seungcheol—"
"For your own safety, _____. Don't. This is not a request." He doesn't wait for your reply but marches away as you silently watch his retreating form, lips pursed in annoyance.
The little appetite you had for breakfast is ruined as you go back to your room, cursing his stubbornness. As you pick up your phone to check for any important messages, a text from your dear father greets you. Your bodyguard told me you received death threats. Maybe it is better for you to stay at home and not work. For your own good, you should seriously consider giving your position to someone else. His flagrant attitude makes your blood boil as you fist your hands around your phone in a death grip before tossing it onto the bed in a fit of rage.
This day has not started off well.
— Two hours later you are well on your way to the safe house with a bag packed containing your absolute necessities. Your bodyguard has confiscated your real phone and gave you a burner instead just to be cautious.
Seungcheol, as always, drives the car in silence, the features of his face set to a grim expression. The air is thick with tension and you debate putting the radio on but even doing that feels too awkward.
"How long is the drive?" You finally ask, desperate to lessen this weird tension.
"We're taking a train from the station."
"Wait, what?"
"It is quite far. Driving there is going to take way too long." He calmly replies, eyes focused on the road. Sighing, you lean back and rest your head against the headrest. You let your eyes wander outside the window, watching the people, the view passing by while your mind runs rampant with all kinds of thoughts; anxious, restless.
A while later, you take notice of something in the rearview mirror and finally voice out the concern that has been bugging you for a while. "Seungcheol?" There's a touch of panic in your voice.
"Yes?"
"See that black Mercedes? It has been following us for a while…I think." You stare eagerly at Seungcheol waiting for his reply, waiting to be told that you are wrong but instead, a small, amused smile graces his lips.
"So you noticed, huh?"
It feels like your heart is going to drop out of your ass.
"What do we do?" You whisper, sitting up straight and craning your head back to take a proper look at the car. Sure enough, the SUV is right behind you, not even trying to be discreet anymore.
Fuck this crap, seriously.
"Trust me, I have got a plan. You just need to do as I tell you, okay?" He assures, his voice composed unlike yours.
"O-okay."
He turns to face you for a beat, giving you a reassuring look before continuing to drive in silence for a couple more minutes while the Mercedes stays on your tail. "Hold tight. I'm going to speed up. There's a parking lot about a mile from here. We're going to stop there."
"WHAT!"
You don't get your reply because the next second, the car is zooming forward as Seungcheol steps on the accelerator. You are gripping the dashboard and your seatbelt with your dear life as Seungcheol speeds through the lane like a madman, swerving every now and then. The Mercedes chasing you has a hard time keeping up with Seungcheol's viciously smooth driving because in a moment's time you are in the parking lot where Seungcheol parks the car in the corner farthest from the entry.
"Listen to me very carefully, ____." Seungcheol says as he turns the engine off and removes his seatbelt. "Crawl to the back and lay low, okay? No matter what happens, what you see, you do not make a move until I come get you, do you hear me?"
Your throat feels like sandpaper as you whisper. "Y-yes. Yes I do."
"Good." He squeezes your hand. "Now crawl into the back."
You do as you are told, moving into the backseat and crouching down as Seungcheol exits the car before locking it. You peek through the tinted window, watching with bated breath as the black SUV pulls up and two bald headed men exit the vehicle which parks right by the entry. They walk to Seungcheol, their stances predatory as they talk about something you cannot hear.
Next thing you know, one of the men is throwing an uppercut towards Seungcheol which fails to land because your bodyguard steps back, avoiding it easily.
Then, a full on fight ensues as the two men attack Seungcheol unsparingly. Seungcheol does not fail to keep up as he easily avoids them and counterattacks. Very soon, he is landing a kick on one of the men that throws him down to the ground with a harsh blow before grabbing the other guy and holding him in a chokehold. Soon, his body slumps to the ground.
Is he dead?
The other guy, meanwhile, recovers and charges for Seungcheol and you notice a bit too late that he has a knife because he manages to land a slash on Seungcheol's chest, making him stumble back. "Seungcheol!" Your hand unconsciously reaches for the door handle, tugging it to get out and help him. Alas, you can't do that. Fortunately, though, Seungcheol seems to not require any help as in the very next moment Seungcheol attacks the man, snatches the knife from him and bashes his head against the trunk of a car once, twice, thrice, making him fall into the ground, unconscious.
The breath you were holding finally escapes your lungs. Seungcheol dashes to the car the next moment, opening the back door and dragging you out by the arm before you can even say something.
"Come on. We don't have time."
"Wait, where are we going?" 
"There's a five minute shortcut to the station from here," he says, leading you by holding your hand as his legs pick up speed. "We have to run because they are expecting us to move by car. Come on!"
And so, you let him guide the way, his hand holding yours tightly, as you take the underground exit of the lot. You run for your life, your legs going sore but you manage to keep going just because of the adrenaline.  Soon enough, the station comes into view and Seungcheol picks up speed as the whistle of the train echoes through the air, informing its departure.
"Oh crap, we're not gonna make it!" You yell. "We will. Just keep running," Seungcheol hollers back as you both run parallel to the train that is slowly picking up speed. Suddenly Seungcheol lets go of your hand which throws you into a moment of panic but you keep running as you start to guess his plan.
You watch as he bolts for the entrance of the last carriage and in the blink of an eye, jumps inside.
"Holy shit." You curse. The next moment, he turns around and leans out the door, holding out one of his hands for you to grab onto while the other grips the handle by the door.  "Come on! Grab my hand!"
Your legs are so tired they feel shaky, ready to collapse any moment. Still, you run with all your might, holding out your hand, reaching for his. 
"Just a little bit! You can do it!" He encourages as the rhythm of the wheels intensifies, letting you know you do not have much time.
Oh shit.
Grunting in frustration, you put all the bridling remnants of your energy and dart forward which seems to be just enough, as your hand touches Seungcheol's. The next moment he grabs onto your hand and in the blink of an eye he is tugging your full weight and pulling you inside the carriage.
Upon entering, you collapse on the floor, panting loudly as Seungcheol lets go of your hand and cranes his neck out the door as if looking for something. Even though you are wheezing for air, you follow his line of sight and see two men running after the train as if they were chasing you. By now the train is moving at full speed, crossing the end of the platform, making them slow down and watch helplessly. "Who…are…they?" You choke between breaths.
"Your uncle's men." Seungcheol replies nonchalantly as he shuts the door and kneels next to you.
"How long have they been following us?"
"After we got to the station."
"Why didn't you say anything!"
"I didn't want to scare you." He replies, his hand wrapping around your shoulder. "Don't talk, just breathe. You did well."
You don't know if it is the intensity of the situation or the adrenaline crash or his words that make you slump in his arms, your body resting against his as you catch your breath. The feeling of his warmth against your body is something you are extremely grateful for at the moment.
"Please tell me you have tickets." You pant, resting your head against his shoulder.
"Of course. First class." _____ Five hours later, you are at your destination.
It is a cabin in a small town full of greenery and old architecture.  It is very picturesque, located in between a vast area of mountains, somewhere you'd come to spend the summer with your family maybe. Even though your situation is the farthest thing from a vacation, it doesn't stop you from admiring the beauty before your eyes.
"The place is very beautiful, Seungcheol." You admire the surroundings as well as the cabin.
It's somewhat isolated from the town, shrouded by the forest, as the nearest market from here is about ten minutes drive.
"Thank you, my grandfather made it. He left it for me." He provides as he carries your small bag from the car he borrowed from a friend here and unlocks the door with a key.
"We should do something about your cut." You mention worriedly, crossing the threshold as you see him slightly wince while moving. The bleeding seems to have stopped after he put some pressure in the wound but it still needs to be cleaned.
Hearing your words, he looks down to see the wound before shrugging, "It's fine. The bleeding has stopped."
You expected him to say something like that so you take matters in your own hands. "Is there a first aid kit here?" You ask as you pad to the bathroom, looking around carefully and sure enough, inside the cabinets under the sink, there's a first aid box.  Seungcheol murmurs grumbles of protest as you come back to the living area and ask for him to sit on the spot next to you on the couch.  Thankfully he listens to you. As he unbuttons his shirt, you disinfect your hands while trying your best not to peek at the delicious row of abs that comes into display. As his wound comes into view you cannot help but wince at the sight, which doesn't go unnoticed by your bodyguard. His hand immediately reaches to take the cotton swab from your hand, murmuring. "I can do it myself."
You tsk in disapproval, sending him your best scolding glare before resting one of your hands on his shoulder for support and gently swiping on the wound with the swab dipped in antiseptic with your dominant hand. Seungcheol sits still all through it while you hold your breath, channelling all your focus on the task at hand. 
It is scary; being this close to him and for some reason the act of cleaning up a cut is turned into something way too intimate by your brain. So, you don't dare to look in his eyes, afraid of what you'll see in them but terrified of what they will make you feel; something you can not resist or put a lid on, like the urge to cup his cheeks and kiss those irresistible lips.
You must be swiping at his wound with your face mere inches away from touching his chest for way too long because one of Seungcheol's hands comes to grab your wrist, stopping your movements.  "I think that's enough," His voice holds the aloofness that you are used to which makes you sigh.
"Does it hurt? Do you want a painkiller?" You still find yourself asking.
Seungcheol frowns. "No, ____. I'm fine. It's just a cut, I won't die."
"Still—"
"Maybe you should focus on yourself. You have had a long day—"
"Why do you always do this!" It takes a few moments for you to realise you are yelling. You stand on your feet, hands fisted at your sides as the first aid kit falls on the floor from your lap, spilling its contents all over.
"What do you mean?" He asks and you absolutely loathe how his voice never changes, laced with that touch of monotony and indifference.
"Ugh, Seungcheol! Why do you always push me away! I want to help you! I'm just trying to take care of you!" This, however, seems to evoke an emotion from him because he is immediately on his feet, glaring at you, his large body towering over you.
"It is not your job to take care of me! If anyone here is going to take care of someone, it will be me making sure you are alive, is that clear?"
"I'm just trying to help you yet you keep pushing me away—"
"I do not need your help!" His voice is a roar of thunder, making you gasp as you take a step back. You've never seen him like this nor did you imagine someone so unbothered and composed had a side like this. "Who are you, huh? Why do you keep stepping over the line? Did I ask for your fucking help? I'm the last person you should be worried about, Ms Lee, you understand that?"
By now, angry tears have gathered in your eyes. Not wanting to cry in front of him you bite your lips and push past him as you run towards your room. "Fuck you, Choi Seungcheol!" —
You spend a long time in your room, crying and cursing him out before eventually falling asleep out of exhaustion. 
When you are awake from your slumber, the clock reads 2 in the morning. Disoriented and irritated and hungry, the first thing you do after emptying your bladder is go hunt for something to eat. Even though you intended to avoid Seungcheol, it is impossible not to come across him as he sleeps on the couch in the living room, this one thankfully big enough for him to comfortably lie. 
There's a small lamp in the corner of the room and the light from there is falling on one side of his face, highlighting his cheekbones. 
You stand still for a moment to make sure that he's actually asleep, before tiptoeing to the kitchen. Pouring yourself a glass of water and you think of something easy to make that will not wake up the moody bastard in the next room. 
However, you don't get too far with that thought because a moment later, you hear an all familiar groan float through the quiet air of the night. It is Seungcheol. And he's having a nightmare. Once again. It's like deja vu.
All his commands of not helping him fly out the window as you run to the living room. Before you can reach there, however, you hear a crash and upon entering you see Seungcheol, wide awake and sitting on the floor on his hands and knees, his entire frame shaking violently as he keeps uttering something under his breath, still stuck in his nightmare. 
Your heart drops when you see the glass showpiece on the centre table shattered on the floor, along with the pillows and blanket that were previously on the couch. "Seungcheol!" You yell as you rush to him, carefully avoiding the broken shards of glass and sitting on your knees next to him as you try to get him out of his head and focus on you. His blown out pupils meet yours as his hands shake and his breath comes out in struggling pants. 
He's having a panic attack.
"Seungcheol!" you call for him, trying your best to keep your voice stable which proves to be hard as your heart breaks for the man, hating seeing him in this state. 
"Look at me. Listen to my voice. Breathe. Breathe with me. Look at me. Breathe, just breathe, you're going to be fine."
And so for the next few minutes, you try your best to calm the agitated man down, holding his body next to yours as you run your hands along his back, up and down, up and down.
You realise he's back to normal when the shuddering stops and his body remains immoblie next to you, as if he has fallen asleep.  You know otherwise because when you pull back to take a look at his face, you find his eyes open, that familiar, empty and aloof gaze replacing the panicked ones. His lips are set to a thin line and you feel his whole body stiffen next to yours and just like you know he is back to normal.
This time, you do not ask him if he's okay or if he wants anything. Instead you get up from the floor quietly and go to the kitchen where you quickly make him a warm cup of tea.
When you return, he's still on the floor, sitting with his back against the sofa, hands resting on his knees as his head hangs low. Silently, you walk over and sit next to him before extending the steaming mug towards him.
You hold your breath, waiting for him to reject it and start spewing mean words at you but you are to be amazed. 
Surprising you, he does none of those things but accepts the mug and takes a small sip. A tiny smile of victory graces your lips as you settle your gaze forward to the empty wall and sit in silence next to him. 
As the steam gradually disappears from the mug and his dejected posture becomes tense and uptight, you know he's about to tell you off.  Your guess turns out to be correct because just a moment later, he sets his mug down on the floor and turns to face you. His voice is stoic when he speaks, "I clearly told you not to—"
"Do you want to talk about it?" You interrupt him with a soft voice. He appears stunned as his mouth opens to say something but closes back to a tight line.
"I used to have nightmares as well, after the accident." You whisper, leaning back to the sofa, your unfocused gaze settled on the  walls of the cabin as your mind disappears in the depths of the memories of those gruesome nights.
"I'd wake up screaming and crying. Every damn time I'd see the crash so vividly and the moments before it, my mom's desperate eyes at mine, her fading words, telling me to hold on, telling me that she loves me..." You lose your voice with a choke as tears blind your vision. A hand comes to rest on your shoulder gently and gives you a reassuring squeeze. It takes a few moments for your brain to process that it's Seungcheol and you are pleasantly surprised. 
Your eyes search for him, and his face is solemn, his eyes showing just a reflection of kindness and sympathy. With a sad smile, you wipe the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. "It was horrible at the beginning when I couldn't speak. I'd wake up distressed and not finding my voice would make it even worse. For the first two months, Chan stayed with me every night. He'd try his best to calm me down but every night I'd be just as scared to go to bed."
"Eventually, the nightmares didn't come as often. Especially after I realised I could speak again and I was remembering bits and pieces of the accident and my suspicion was growing. I haven't had any nightmares for a while now but I remember how they made me feel. How awfully...real they felt." You sigh, shuddering at the thought.
A few moments of silence pass by as Seungcheol's hand drops from your shoulder. You don't expect him to spill his heart out but you are grateful that he didn't push you away and listened to you and comforted you. It is more than you ever thought you could get from him. Having this simple, somewhat bitter moment of intimacy is enough to soothe your love starved heart.  However, you realise it's a night full of surprises when Seungcheol starts speaking. "I was in the military, as you know. I joined when I was eighteen. I lost my parents the year before so it was just me and my grandfather." His voice is quiet as he fixes his eyes out the window, looking at the dark night sky.
You follow his gaze and make a quick observation that there are no stars tonight, just an empty, dark sky, before setting your gaze on Seungcheol's face. 
"My grandfather served in the military during the early years of his life and I wanted to follow his footsteps. The first few years were tough but good. I enjoyed them as they kept me busy and focused. During my fifth year in the military, my grandfather passed away peacefully in his sleep. I was on break at that time so I was there with him in his last moments. However, it still broke me. Sending him off was one of the hardest things I had ever done."
He pauses, making you hold your breath and anticipate his next words. His expression is unreadable, his sharp gaze focused outside when he continues.  "I returned to the military a different man. My life as a soldier became everything to me. I worked ten times harder than anyone else as the military turned into my entire life. I jumped through the ranks very quickly and went on various missions as a SEAL. All of them were dangerous but successful as I led my teams out safely each time. Until Sudan."
There is another heavy pause as you feel the air thicken with tension. You know the worst part is about to begin and as you observe his gaze become more and more unfocused, you can't help but dread whatever is coming next. "It was a humanitarian mission. Me and my team were tasked to rescue some families from a group of local terrorists. They were held inside a camp in the middle of the desert. The infiltration was successful. But, just as we were escaping, the terrorists found out and came at us with double manpower. They had a couple of high powered explosives which we were unprepared for because they were not supposed to have such weapons."
"As my team and I were exchanging fire against them, a bomb went off right next to me. It is the last thing I remember before waking up in a hospital bed a week later."
"The explosion fucked up left leg. I needed three surgeries and months of rehabilitation. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part is that it cost three of my teammates their lives."
Oh Seungcheol. Tears are beading down your eyes as you let his words soak into you.
"It happened almost six years ago but it still haunts me. How I fucked up. How I killed them." "Seungcheol, no!" You scold, your voice not as powerful as you'd like it to be as it breaks mid way. "You did not kill them, you hear me? It was an accident. A horrible one but it was not your fault in any way. They died honourably and think of all the others you saved, all the times you led your team out of harm successfully. Think about all the lives you have saved, all the people you have helped." Your grip is strong on his forearms as you turn him to face you fully. His eyes meet you; bleak and hopeless and the urge to wipe away all his pain soars within you. It's a shame you can't do that so you do the next best thing you can think of.
You pull him in a tight hug. You wrap yourself around him, resting your chin over his shoulder as you close your eyes and hold him tight, the act a bit hard due his huge build. For several long moments he doesn't hug you back until you finally feel his warm hands creep on your back as he rests his face against your neck, cocooning your body with his.
You swallow a sob and blink furiously to drive away the tears, your hands stroking his hair in gentle motions. "It's alright, Cheol. You are going to be just fine. It is all going to be okay."
His response is to hold you tighter and you welcome his vulnerability, his pain and agony with open arms, breathing it in as if it is your own. Long moments are spent as you two remain in each other's embrace until you finally sit back to take a look at him.
"Maybe you should talk to a therapist?"
"I did," he sighs, running a hand through his soft locks. "After the accident, I saw one for almost a year. I was prescribed so many medicines and I almost got addicted to them even though they weren't doing much to help. So I decided to quit altogether and moved here, in his cabin. I stayed here for about six months, trying to pull myself together before an old friend of mine called, asking if I wanted to join his private security company. I agreed because I couldn't live in solitude any longer without killing myself and now, I'm here." You nod, watching him intently as you two sit with mere inches of space between each other's faces. In the back of your mind, you realize that this is the most intimate you have been with Seungcheol and probably you will ever get to be so you can't help but speak the next words. "You are so beautiful, Seungcheol. Inside and out. You are such an amazing person.I only wish you would know that." Your words can barely be heard because you speak so softly but it contains emotions from the deepest, rawest part of your heart. Sitting with him on the floor, in the middle of the night at a cabin in the woods, talking about your deepest traumas and secrets is something you never thought you would experience but now you realise, it is a treasure, a moment of profoundness that you will carry close to your heart for the rest of your life.
Seungcheol's eyes widen for a fraction upon hearing your words before he shifts, trying to pull away from you but your strong grip on his hands stops him. Once again, you find yourself confessing. "Ever since you've come to my life, I feel hopeful, even though we are going through so much trouble. I want to live again and I feel happy and hopeful when I look at you. And I can never thank you enough for that."
Seungcheol's Adams apple bobs as he swallows and the expression on his face is so vivid you realize you have left him speechless. A small, shy smile sets on your lips as you squeeze his hands softly, your thumb stroking over his bruised knuckles.  While your mind swoons over how tender this moment is and how beautiful he looks and how soft his lips appear, he inches his face closer to you before pressing his lips against yours.
At first, you believe it's a dream.
It is bound to be, no?
Blinking multiple times, you make sure that it in fact is not a dream but it seems to take too long because Seungcheol is pulling away from you, the apology right there at the tip of his tongue. However, you do not let him speak the words he doesn't mean. Instead, you do what you have only done in your late night fantasies, you cup his cheeks and pull his face down to yours, meeting his lips in a fierce kiss. You do not even think of holding back, pouring every bit of passion and need and admiration for him into it. 
Thankfully, he reciprocates, cupping your neck and jaw, tilting your face for better access. 
And it's wonderland. It is everything you imagined and more, everything you want and need, everything that can heal you.
In the rosy haze of desire and desperation, your hungry hands travel down to the hem of his white t-shirt, tugging on it in a futile attempt to get it off. The action gets the attention of Seungcheol as he dettaches his lips from yours, taking a look at your face.
"_____—" he makes a weak attempt to stop you but his words die on his tongue as you hastily stand up, dragging him with him. Pressing a soft finger on his lips, you shush him as you bring your face closer to him and whisper in his ear. "Don't push me away Seungcheol, please. I need you. And you need me too."
There is a battle in his gaze as he stares at your longing visage for a moment with a clenched jaw before muttering a curse underneath his breath. The next moment, you are being carried to your bedroom and in the blink of an eye, you are standing in front of your bed with his frame towering over you.
"You wanted this?" He teases but his eyes are lit with a fire that is inextinguishable as he takes off his shirt and even in the dimly lit room, you do not miss the carved perfection of his body, littered with scars here and there. In vain hope, you pray that your face isn't visible as you ogle him but you know it is because his unrelenting stare breaks your skin into goosebumps. 
As you are stuck in a trance of lust, he takes a step closer to you before his breath grazes your ear. "Lift your hands, angel."
The next moment, he pulls your nightshirt off your body, leaving you only in your sleeping shorts. He wastes no time, attacking them right next as they come off with a tug and you fall into your bed. You have no time to overthink or feel shy because Seungcheol cages your body underneath his as he crawls to you, a dark look of hunger on his face. 
"You are a fucking temptress, you know that?" He grunts, a calloused thumb reaching out to stroke your cheek. You lean into his touch, eyes falling closed at the contact as a soft sigh escapes your lips but the next moment Seungcheol is grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in for a heated kiss. 
It's all teeth and tongue as he devours your mouth, two tongues entangled in a fierce rhythm of tango before finally letting you gasp for air.  "Crawl up," his voice is that of a quiet command which you follow instantly, letting him sit comfortably on his knees as he spreads your legs wide.
The very next moment a squeak leaves your mouth as Seungcheol pushes his index finger inside you, your wetness granting easy access. He makes a noise, something akin to an animalistic groan as his digit easily slips inside. 
"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he murmurs as he inserts another finger and then another before curling them inside you.
"Seungcheol!" You yell, grabbing the sheets as your hips lift off the mattress due to the electrifying jolt of pleasure. Your reaction makes him grunt as he fastens his face and you feel your legs tremble, making you think that you are going to come already. 
Your core tightens around his fingers as more wetness leaks from you, only amplified when he brushes his thumb against your clit. Another gasp and a shudder of your body makes Seungcheol smirk as he whispers, "Gonna come, angel?"
You nod your head aggressively, your hips chasing his fingers in their own rhythm and just as the tingles of your release soars in your body, Seungcheol removes his fingers.
"No!" Your protest is immediate but the man only gives you a cruel smile as he makes a show of licking his fingers clean. The act itself is extremely hot and you cannot help but release another groan of frustration. 
"Seungcheol! Please let me—"
"You are gonna lie back and let me eat your pussy now, hmm? After I'm satisfied, I will let you come." He announces, lips hovering over your thighs, the touch of his warm breath giving your goosebumps. The low gravel of his voice paired with the way he keeps looking at you from between your thighs makes you swallow thickly before lying your head back into the pillow, a shuddering breath leaving your lips.
"Good girl."
Good girl.
Your core clenches deliciously.  However, you do not get to soak in the warmth of his praise because the next moment he flicks your clit with his tongue and your scream pierces the night air. Your body writhes while he holds your thighs open in a strong grip, incoherent gasps and curses of pleasure falling from your lips. Seungcheol is like a man starved, as he eats you out mercilessly, his tongue going deep inside your most intimate parts. You can't remain still, tears of pleasure stinging your eyes as your body shakes and pleas fall from your lips.
"Oh f-fuck! Seungcheol! Please!" 
You yourself do not know what you are begging for. It's the sweetest torture, one you want to end but also continue forever.
Your release has wet your inner thighs and paired with Seungcheol's saliva they drip down to your asshole but Seungcheol doesn't stop. He brings his attention to your hard, swollen clit now which he flicks repeatedly with his tongue.
"Fuck! I can't! Please let me come!" You are convinced your voice can be heard from miles away. "You wanna come?" He grunts between breaths, voice muffled.
"Yes, yes! Please!"
"Then come. Come for me, my angel." The command has your toes curling as he gives a harsh suck to your clit and in an instant, you go off like a firework. The heated coil in your belly snaps as your body twitches, sending you headfirst into an orgasm so good, so deep, tears drip down your eyes. All through it, Seungcheol keeps sucking your pussy, almost making you numb before stopping with a final, sloppy kiss on your clit and sitting back.
Even in the darkness, you see his lips shine with your release.
"You are an aphrodisiac, angel." His words caress your skin as he leans forward and presses soft, tantalising kisses on your jaw and down your throat. 
"Please, fuck me now," your voice is a cry of plea as you chase his lips for a kiss. He entertains you, tangling your mouths in an embrace of passion as you taste yourself on his tongue. One of his hands moves down amidst the kiss and your foggy brain registers that he's taking off his sweatpants. 
With a soft groan he takes off his lips from yours and frees himself from your entangled limbs, standing up to kick his boxers and sweatpants down his legs. 
And oh dear lord is he a view. You admire him in his nakedness in the half lit room, drinking every inch of him. You can't stray your eyes from his cock, hard and leaking as you gulp and send a prayer to the sky, marvelling at his size.
Seungcheol crawls back into the bed, his movements akin to the grace of a panther, his eyes lit with ferocity and huger as he pins both your wrists over your head with one hand.
"I'm going to fuck you so good you will be ruined for any other man." He promises, giving you a delicious shiver on your spine. You want to scream that you don't need any other man, you never will but the thought dies in your mind when you feel his tip prodding at your core.  He slides in easily, almost embarrassingly easy as your sopping cunt welcomes him with wide open arms. A guttural groan escapes from his throat as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, spewing curses. The sound makes you clench around him which makes him curse again.
"You are so fucking tight, fuck!"
You can only respond in an incoherent hum as he starts moving inside you, making you throw your head back and let out a loud moan. He raises his head to look at you and your eyes contact and in a second, everything becomes more intense. The look in his eyes is ever captivating and ruthless while he pistons in and out of you tirelessly, hitting that sensitive spot inside you perfectly each time.
"You're going to be the death of me." He whispers, almost as if he's talking to himself. His mouth works on your jaw, moving down to your throat and sucking harshly on the soft flesh, making you shudder in pleasure. "Seungcheol!" You cry. "Harder! Please!"
"Any harder and I'll come right now."
"Do it! Come inside me!" All other thoughts and worries have left your mind and beg him for more, already cock drunk.
"Fuck, you sure?"
"I'm on pills, Cheol. I'm sure," you pant, clutching onto his back as he increases his pace, leaning back to sit on his knees as his hands move to your waist, holding you in a bruising grip.
"Gonna fill you up then, angel. Make this pussy bleed my come." He promises with a snark, his eyes trained on your face as he delivers one particular thrust that has you arching off the bed and seeing stars.
Then there is a brush of touch on your hard clit and a quiet command of coming which has fireworks exploding all throughout your body. You cry out, from pleasure and pain so addictive that white spots dance in your vision, hands twisting the fabric of the bedsheet so hard it would be no surprise if they tore.  The next moment you feel Seungcheol release inside you and the feeling of his warm cum coating your insides gives your body another round of shivers as you completely blank out. You are transported to a hazy place where you feel like you are floating through the air as you lose all sense of connection from this world.
It takes a while for you to recover and once you do, you realise Seungcheol has slumped over next to you as his breathing gradually returns to normal. You turn your head slightly to look at him and just as your eyes meet, he makes a move to get up.  Your hand immediately latches onto his arm. "Don't go." You croak.
"I need to clean you up." His voice is quiet.
"Later." You whisper, begging with your eyes. "Just lay with me for a while." He remains still for a moment, probably battling with himself before lying back next to you. He stretches one of his arms and you quickly use it as a pillow, shuffling closer to his body and resting your palm on his chest. Seungcheol tenses next to you but you don't let it get to you as your hand gently strokes an old scar right beneath his chest. Just as you are almost falling asleep, you feel his hand wrap around your waist, holding you softly and a smile graces your lips.
I love you, Choi Seungcheol.
— The next morning, Seungcheol starts avoiding you like you are the plague. As soon as you step out of your bedroom, Seungcheol, who was sitting in the living area quite literally bolts outside with his laptop and everything, throwing a curt good morning to you and not even sparing a glance.
You are hurt, to say the least. While a silly part of you expected that maybe you would wake up with him in the same bed and have breakfast together before some more lovemaking, the realistic part of you did not expect him to act like this. 
Like nothing happened.
Or worse, acting like what happened was a mistake.
Does he really think that last night was a mistake? 
It hurts to even think that he might believe that so you push that thought away with all your might. Instead, you focus on making yourself a nice breakfast before soaking in the tub for a while as you try to focus all your attention on plotting your uncles demise.
Once you are nice and clean after the soak, you find Seungcheol in the kitchen, drinking something from his mug as he talks over the phone with someone. You wait for him to finish, using the spare time to admire how good he looks— slightly messy hair, an old grey t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Once again, your mind travels to how good he railed you last night but before it can travel too far, you shake yourself back to the present.
"I need to talk to you." You announce as soon as he sets his phone down. Seungcheol's head snaps up to your voice and a grim expression settles on his face before he murmurs. 
"There's nothing to talk about. Last night was an accident. We were both vulnerable and it just... happened." It's like someone ripped your beating heart off of your chest or dumped you into a bucket of ice or better yet, did that together. Yet it still wouldn't hurt as much as his words pierce through you right now, leaving you utterly speechless as you just blink repeatedly, trying to make sure you heard that right. "It was not an accident, Seungcheol. You know it." Your voice is deathly quiet and you can feel yourself on the precipice of snapping.
"The hell it wasn't, _____." He snaps. "I am your fucking bodyguard and you are my client. I am not getting paid to take advantage of you!"
"Take advantage of me?" You seethe as an overwhelming urge to punch something, like his face, overcomes you. You have to take a deep breath in to form the next words. "I am not some helpless, pathetic girl that you can take advantage of. Whatever happened last night was real and with our consent. The man last night was the real you, the one you keep hiding, not this!" Seungcheol clenches his jaw, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Either way, it should not have happened. We, you and me—" he points between the two of you. "It does not work. It won't."
"Seungcheol— "
"That's enough _______."
"No, tell me. Enlighten me, please," Your voice drips with sarcasm as you take a step towards him, crossing your hands in front of your chest. "Why do we not work? What delightful, eye opening information has been revealed upon you which led you to this wise conclusion?" The twitch in his jaw clearly tells you that he does not appreciate your sarcasm but you've had enough of his stubbornness, especially when it is clear that he wants you as well.
"So far, I'll I've heard is that I can't have you not, I don't want you. Quit playing games with yourself Seungcheol!"
"I am a fucking loose grenade!" His scream is abrupt, making you jolt. The veins in his neck pop out as he steps back, his frantic eyes glaring at you. "I cannot keep you safe! Not from myself. I am a man whose past haunts him. I can't fucking sleep at night without getting nightmares and smashing things! I cannot pass a day without the guilt of my past following me! I am headed towards hell and I cannot drag you down with me. I am not the man for you, _____, try to understand!"
"I think that's for me to decide, no?" You take another step towards him, trying to calm him down.
"No!" He yells, stepping back. "Enough! Just— enough. This conversation is over. I'm going out and when I return, we will pretend that none of this ever happened."
"You fucking asshole!"  You normally do not curse.  Out loud at least. Your mother had a strict rule of no bad language and you and your brother followed that rule to a t. No matter what you have encountered so far in your life, nothing gave you the urge to curse half as much as you want to right now.
"That's right. I am an asshole." He states calmly, sparing you a blank look before turning and heading for the main door.
"You fucking son of a bitch! I did not want to talk about this in the first place! When I said I need to talk with you, I meant about my uncle, you idiot!"
He stops in his tracks before slowly turning his head to look at you. "What about him?" His calmness makes you absolutely livid and even though you try your hardest to form words, the only thing your tongue seems to want to utter are curse words.
"It doesn't concern you anymore, asswipe." Seungcheol's lips form a thin line as he watches you quietly for a few moments.
"Do not do anything stupid,_____." He has the nerve to order you before marching out of the house, slamming the door loudly behind him.
"Go to hell, dickhead!" —
The rest of the day is uneventful as you two mind your own business, avidly avoiding each other. After Seungcheol leaves and blesses you with solitude you pace around the house angrily before going for a walk in the forest behind the cabin.
It is not dense or uncomfortable as a walking trek has been premade and you take a long walk which helps you clear your head just a bit. It takes your mind off of your stubborn bodyguard and back onto your uncle as you think of ways to trap him in a position he cannot easily get out of, as early as possible. With the plan you have in mind, it proves to be a bit hard, because you are staying in the middle of nowhere and your uncle has no clue where you are.
You walk home an hour later with a less obscure mind and send Chan a text through the burner phone, letting him know that you are alive and well. 
Your brother video calls you soon after and you almost forget that you are supposed to be mute at the joy of seeing your brother. It kills you that you have to lie to him but you bite your teeth and do it, telling him that work got too overwhelming and you are taking some days off and promise him of your quick return. You know your brother is not stupid and he has started doubting you but he is kind enough not to push you for more, which you are grateful for.
Seungcheol returns home a little after noon with more supplies. You act like he does not exist as you finish your lunch and retire to your room where you spend the rest of the day, lying in your bed and staring at the ceiling, thinking about everything and nothing. As the skies bleed to dark, dinner time rolls around and you two eat separately. Once again, Seungcheol makes no attempt to talk to you or acknowledge you just like you are doing but it still infuriates you, which you try to control by doing copious amounts of yoga in your room, before finally falling asleep quite late.
However, disaster strikes with the arrival of dawn, as the first rays of sun kiss the sky. 
You are snapped out of sleep as you open your eyes and find Seungcheol hovering over you, shaking you awake.
"Wake up, _____! Your uncle is here. He found us!"
Immediately you bolt upright, half thinking that all this is a vivid dream. As your panicked eyes meet his, your shaky hands clutching his biceps and you whisper. "W-what? How? I- I don't understand."
"I don't know either." Seungcheol grunts, craning his neck to look out the window. "There are two jeeps heading towards us. You need to get out."
As if on cue, you hear the loud roar of the engines as they come to a stop right in front of the cabin. Seungcheol helps your shaky form out of bed and ushers you down the stairs. 
"Take the back exit. Hide in the forest until I come for you. If I don't, call Jihoon for help. His number is here. And take this." he explains, handing his burner phone and a gun to you but your brain is stuck in a loop, not processing that there is a fucking gun in your hand.
"What do you mean if I don't? You are coming with me—"
"No. I will hold them off while you escape. Go, now." He orders, pushing you towards the back door of the kitchen. 
"_____! I know you're in there! Come out while I am being nice and maybe we can come to an agreement! You do not want to end up like your mother, do you now?" Your body freezes as you hear your uncle yell from the front door. The anger evoked from his words makes you want to stay and confront him but Seungcheol keeps pushing you, telling you to run.
And so, sparing one last longing look at Seungcheol, you tuck your weapon in your waist and run. You have not gotten even fifty feet away from the cabin when the first round of shots echo through the air. Your blood freezes as you come to a halt, turning your head around to look at the cabin as gunshots echo through the air.
You have to swallow a lump in your throat as tears gather in your eyes, the temptation to go back increasing. But you know going back is not a good idea because it will put Seungcheol's life at risk, more than it already is. So you keep moving deeper into the forest, the treks familiar because you have been here before and you make your way through very easily. When you come across a small cliff shrouded by thick bushes you decide to hide there, waiting to see if your uncle's men come around here. Confirming your guess, they do, after a while as they jog through, looking around for you. However, they fail to estimate your hiding place and continue deeper into the forest down the trek and just then, an idea forms in your head.
You have to go back.
The universe is on your side because you realise after some peeking around and shuffling through trees that there is another road that you can use to go back to the cabin. This one is definitely unused and riskier but you are determined to make this work. So, with a deep breath you jog through the narrow, muddy lane and soon enough, you find your way back.
The cabin is now quiet, eerily so.
The back door remains open, granting you access and you carefully step one foot in, holding your breath. 
It is a mess; bullet holes scattered around, a few bodies slumped on the ground, specks of blood all over the floor. The scene is bone chilling and you have to take several deep breaths to calm down. You can hear noises coming from somewhere in the house, grunts and yells, as if people are fighting, which is what is undoubtedly happening. No matter how severe your urge is to follow the sound and make sure Seungcheol is okay, you decide against it, putting faith in his capabilities instead and sending a prayer out to heaven. Careful not to step on any blood, you make your way through the mess and gingerly climb up the stairs, pausing to make sure no one is around. The coast is clear, thankfully, as no one is upstairs and you head straight for the little storeroom next to the bedroom, where you kept the very little belongings you brought with you.
You took special care to hide your prized possession, the evidence file. It stays secure inside a special compartment Seungcheol showed you that is situated under the wooden floor. Quickly removing the carpet, you open the hatch and look inside to make sure the files are there.
And they are, thankfully. Picking them up, you hold them to your chest and close the hatch, putting everything in its place while holding your breath through all of it. In the next second, the voice you dreaded echoes through the air.
"I believe I am going to need that, _____." 
You whip your head back to see your dear uncle standing at the door frame, lips twisted in a diabolic smirk like he got you just where he wanted to.  "I knew you would lead me to the evidence, niece. I just had to wait. And I knew you would contact your dear little brother no matter what so I put a little tracker on his phone and it led me here. Easy, no?" He shakes his head,  laughing cockily at his plan.
Your blood runs cold as your fingers grip the envelope tightly.
"Over my dead body." You hiss.
"Oh yeah, and my men told me you could speak?" He taunts, shaking his head some more. "Can you imagine my surprise when I heard that? Tell me, were you faking it all along? To what, get some pity points?"
"You will rot in jail, asshole. I will personally see to it." You seethe, clutching the folder tighter against your chest.  Your uncle's face loses its amusement as he stares at you for a while, cold and unblinking before reaching back and pulling out a gun. Your heart skips a beat as he points it right at you.
"The file, ______. I am not here to play games."
"Never." There is an immediate deafening noise of gunfire, making you squeeze your eyes shut and for a horrible moment, you think he has shot you. Opening your eyes, you see there's a hole in the roof where he has aimed his gun before pointing it back at you.
"Don't make me kill you like your mother. I need you alive for all the other plans I have."
"She was your sister in law!" You cry.
"She was a thorn in my way!" He seethes. "A conniving bitch trying to take the company from me and my son! Always challenging me! Always speaking against me!"
"It was never yours to begin with, you ugly old man! She knew you would steal it from us!"
"I dare you to speak one more word and the next bullet will be in your hand and the one after that will be in your leg. I won't do the mercy of killing you, _____. I will put you through hell on earth before I grant you the freedom of death." He sneers, eyes fueled with hatred. You swallow, your breath coming out in heavy pants as you decide on what to do next. 
Finally, with a defeated sigh you raise your arms in surrender and take a small, tiny step towards him, trying to appear as meek and harmless as possible. "You could have not killed her. You could have sent her away if she was a problem." You whisper, voice cracking. "Huh," he scoffs. "As if that bitch would listen. The only way was to get rid of her. For good. I knew she would be in the car with you that day and I planned to kill two birds with one stone but alas, that didn't happen" He shrugs, pouting. "It's alright, though. I know how to use it in my favour. I have so many plans for you. You're gonna come with me and sign off—"
"Drop the gun, Jin."
Seungcheol!
It is Seungcheol, pointing his Glock at the back of Jin's head as he appears behind him all of a sudden. You are flooded with gratitude so big tears come to your eyes and hope flares in your chest seeing him alive, hurt and dishevelled but alive. However, your hope is quick to die down when Jin speaks the next words.
"You sure you wanna do that, son?" Your uncle remains unaffected as he slightly turns his head, his words directed to Seungcheol. "You pull the trigger and by the time it has hit me I can pull the trigger as well and her brains will be splattered all over these walls. You don't want that, do you? Besides, I know as a matter of fact your boss here wants me alive. She has grand plans for me, is that not right, _____?"
His eyes pan back to you, the evilest of smiles on his face as you grit your teeth, trying to keep yourself from doing anything rash.
You underestimated your uncle for sure.
"Drop the gun, son. I won't say it again." He orders, taking a menacing step towards you. "You drop it and nobody gets hurt. I need this bitch alive for everything I have planned." Seungcheol's eyes meet yours and the helplessness and frustration is visible in them. You watch with bated breath as he slowly points the gun away from Jin's head and sets it down on the ground, raising his hands in surrender. A satisfied smile sets on your uncle's face and he lets his guard down for a moment, a fraction of a second, which Seungcheol takes advantage of.  In the blink of an eye, Seungcheol jumps on him, grabbing his legs and dragging him down onto the floor. His grip on the gun falters, letting it fall on the floor and as he makes a move to reach for it, Seungcheol kicks it to the farthest corner of the room.
A scuffle between them ensues and Seungcheol tries to overpower Jin and pin him down onto the floor. However, your uncle, the master of playing dirty, manages to pull a switchblade from his pocket and slashes Seungcheol on the arm, making him fall off of him. "I'm gonna fucking gut you, you son of a bitch!" He yells, charging for Seungcheol as he pins him down, aiming the blade towards his throat but Seungcheol stops him with a practised move. An intense battle of power ensues but you've had enough as you reach  for the gun Seungcheol gave you, tucked at your waistband.
Pointing it straight at Jin's head, you yell. "Drop the knife, Jin! I really don't want to kill you!"
"You don't have the balls to shoot me, bitch!" He yells back, not even glancing at you, busy subduing Seungcheol as he stabs him in the shoulder. That motherfucker!
He underestimated you greatly.
Furious, you pull the trigger and the bullet lands right where you aimed it, Jin's knee. With a howl of pain, he falls off of Seungcheol who quickly gets back up and wraps an arm around his throat in a chokehold.
"You filthy little bitch! You fucking —"
Seungcheol tightens the grip on his neck and after struggling for a few moments, Jin passes out, making you sigh in relief as you step back and lean against the wall. "You shot him." Seungcheol's voice is laced with bewilderment as he watches you with a look of surprise and admiration. "Self defence," you shrug, closing your eyes and inhaling a deep breath. "Tie him up. I'll call the police."
— Fifteen minutes later the cops arrive with blaring sirens followed by an ambulance. 
As soon as the ambulance comes to a stop, you are dragging Seungcheol towards it, yelling at the staff to get a look at his shoulder, around which you have wrapped a cloth to lessen the bleeding. As a responder attends to Seungcheol's injury, two policemen rush into the house when you tell them that the culprit is tied up inside. 
You stand out front with your arms crossed, the morning sun now high in the sky, the warm rays caressing your face as you watch your uncle being dragged out of the house and into one of the police cars. He is yelling and cursing his complaints, his eyes filled with hatred as they come in contact with yours. 
Your body goes rigid, the revelation coming upon you that he is done for and he knows it. You know he is definitely going to deny everything but he has another surprise coming his way.
An officer comes to you, talking about the next procedures and asking basic questions but you cannot quite register his words as your body finally gets off the high of adrenaline and realisation hits you like a bulldozer, it's over.
It is over. You got him. 
I got him, Mom. I will make him pay.
Seungcheol, who sits at the back of the ambulance while a nurse gives his shoulder a temporary fix, listens to the officer carefully, answering his questions in your place before thanking him as he takes his leave. 
"Are you okay?" Seungcheol's uninjured hand comes up to gently touch your arm, making you jump as you are snapped out of your reverie.
"Would you like me to look at you, ma'am? The responder offers as she takes off her gloves. "You look pale." You shake your head, swallowing as you wrap your arms around yourself. Seungcheol gives your hand a tug, making you sit next to him.  "Please take a look at her." He says to the nurse, who nods while he shrugs off the blanket sitting on his shoulder and wraps it around yours with his free hand. 
"Breathe, _____." He speaks softly, his hand holding yours. You nod, focusing on your breath for the next few minutes as the nurse does a quick check up on you. There are a lot of unshed tears within you and a lot of emotions you need to let out but you just cannot bring yourself to do that right now. There is this numb feeling all over you accompanied by an overwhelmingness.
And you know very well the war isn't over just yet. You have to make sure your uncle ends up behind bars. Even though you have some control over your emotions right now, you remember that you have to explain every hideous detail to Chan and you know will break down then. You know you will break down again when you visit your mother's grave but you know this time, you will feel less guilty of being the only one surviving, less in agony because you have avenged her.
"I have called my lawyer. He's preparing all the documents. We should head home now." You speak, eyes staring at the sun shining over the hills and the lush greenery.
This place is magical. You want to come here again, someday.
"Okay," Seungcheol agrees as his hand comes to rest over yours and he gives you a reassuring squeeze. Your eyes pan back to his face, littered with cuts before settling on his shoulder.  You open your mouth to scold him for getting hurt when he sighs. "What were you thinking, _____? I told you not to come back to the cabin. Your uncle had you just where he wanted. You could have been seriously hu—
"I had a plan, Seungcheol."
"What plan?" He looks annoyed. A soft smile graces your lips as your hand travels to the front pocket of your shirt. You pick the pen sitting there and hand it to Seungcheol with a mischievous smile. Frowning, he examines the item carefully until it dawns on him as his eyes widen. "This has a camera!"
"Yep! It can record audio and video very clearly. I had it on me for a while and as I was hiding in the forest I suddenly realised that I couldn't get better proof against my uncle than right then. So I went back to be the bait."
"Still, you don't realise how risky—"
"Trust me, I do. But I had no option. Besides, my gut told me that my uncle really didn't want to kill me unless he had to because after everything that happened, I was more valuable to him alive than dead." Seungcheol stares at you, all a loss for words before shaking his head in disbelief. 
"Wanna know something more fun?"
"What?" He is wary. "The documents I hid? They are not the real ones!" You cannot hold back a laugh as Seungcheol looks as you, more perplexed than before.
"I mean, come on! I'm not that stupid! I wouldn't carry them with me knowing my uncle is looking for them! I hid the original files in Chan's safe after I had him promise me not to touch them."
"Wow…" Seungcheol shakes his head in utter disbelief as he tries to wrap his head around everything. "Still, if I hadn't come for you on time…"
"I knew you would, Seungcheol. I believed that deep in my heart." You whisper, fingers lacing with his as your eyes meet. Seungcheol swallows and looks away, blinking. With a soft sigh, you stand up. "Are you sure you can travel this long in the car? Should I call in a helicopter for you?" Seungcheol rolls his eyes, standing up as well. "It's a fucking graze, _____. I have had way worse and I survived. I will be fine. I already feel fine." Your eyes narrow at him and you want to reprimand him but you cannot find it in your heart to do so. With a sigh, you usher him towards the car. "Let's go then. I'll drive."
— The next 48 hours pass by in the blink of an eye as you go through the most hectic time of your life. 
The first thing you do upon entering the city is sit down with your lawyer for a detailed discussion on the next steps you are going to take and hand the video recording to him. After that you ask Chan to come over to your place where you explain everything to him from a to z. It proves to be one of the worst moments of your life as you watch your brother's face pale with every word you utter and by the time you finish explaining everything he goes as still as a statue before abruptly taking his leave.
The next day you are asked to give a statement to the police along with Seungcheol which takes quite a while as you explain everything in detail. During that time the news breaks about your uncle getting arrested and charged for both murder and attempted murder leading to a flock of reporters chasing you down wherever you go. 
The stocks of the company are also affected as a side effect of the scandal and you have to spend a good amount of time in the office as you try to reassure everyone and get everything under control with your business partners.
On the third day after Jin's arrest, the police officially read out all the charges against him and announce the dates of the trials which sends the press into a second round of frenzy as they try to get your opinion on it, mobbing you whenever you step outside.
Your father is also taken in for questioning where he, thankfully, admits to his crimes and then he is also arrested with the charge of withholding information. He claims that his brother was blackmailing him so he had to keep the murder a secret. Whatever his reason was, you do not care anymore.
You refrain from engaging with the press as much as possible, other than the press conference arranged by your company that you had to attend but you do not make any comments about your uncle or father, just announcing that they will be punished accordingly and you and your brother will do your utmost best to protect the company. 
Amid all of this, Seungcheol refuses to leave your side, even with his injured shoulder. 
The wound was not deep but he was advised not to move the shoulder too much, an instruction he didn't pay any heed to when he was protecting you from the fleet of reporters. Taking it a step further than that, he called his friend over from the agency, the man called Jihoon, to be your second bodyguard because he believed that he was not functioning at his best.
Overall, it turns out to be a crazy, sleep deprived but exciting few days as you see all the pieces of the puzzle fall into its rightful place.
What is not exciting, however, is the straining relationship between you and your brother. After your confession to everything, he grows quieter and avoids talking with you unless it's absolutely necessary, which you understand and respect. He is processing the murder of his mother and his family members' participation in it and you also understand he feels betrayed because you kept so much information from him.
Still, it hurts.
This is why it is a surprise when you see him walk through the double doors to your office on a weekday morning as you were going through the legal statements of the company. "Chan!" You gasp, rising from your chair, eyes wide open in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
He gives a half hearted shrug before sitting down on the couch by the floor to ceiling windows, his gaze focused on the skyline.  "I had some things to tell you." Okay... You chew on your lip as you walk over to him and take a seat in front of him. You watch your brother stare off into the distance out the window before he finally heaves a long sigh and looks at you. The sadness and exhaustion are clear in his eyes and it breaks your heart. This whole media circus has not been easy for him either, especially because he knew nothing of what was going on and the press attacked him like a bunch of piranhas.
"The week has been crazy for you." He states, matter of factly. 
You give him a small, sad smile. "Same goes for you."
"Yes. I am feeling a lot of emotions together however..." he stops for a second before boring his gaze at your eyes. "I cannot help but feel betrayed."
"Oh Chan—"
"No, it's okay." He holds up his hand, stopping you. "I know that was not your intention and it is not your fault. It is none of our fault. I feel betrayed by this... family, this situation. I feel so angry that all of this happened right under my nose and I—" he huffs, dragging a hand through his hair as his voice fades. "I knew nothing about it."
"It is not your fault."
"It kind of is." He grunts. "I...I should have been more careful, more aware—"
"You couldn't have prevented it, Chan. It would only get you hurt in the process."
"Exactly! It would and that's how it should be. We're a team, you and I. So I should be equally responsible but only you got hurt in this process. You have been carrying all this burden with you since the accident. Not to mention the crazy stunt at the cabin. Are you insane, _____? I saw the video and he had a gun for fucks sake!"
"So did I!" You admonish. "Besides, he wasn't going to shoot me."
"You couldn't be sure!"
You drag out a sigh in surrender as you admire your brother for a silent moment as he suddenly reminds you of Seungcheol. "Whatever it was, it's in the past and I am safe now. However, I am sorry. For lying to you, for keeping you in the dark."
"Yes, I am actually quite mad at you for acting mute in front of me." He narrows his gaze at your face. 
"Well at least you learned sign language because of it!"
He snorts and you chuckle, a more comfortable silence falling between the two of you as you stare at each other for a while with melancholic smile on your faces. After a while, he announces, "I am going away for a while."
"What? Where?" You gasp.
"I don't know where, actually. Somewhere with a beach and lots of sunshine maybe. Away from…here." He smiles faintly. "I just...I need to be away for a while and process everything and simply be in my own company. I just need some time, sis." Tears shine in your eyes. "I understand." You whisper.  You really do but it still pains you because you feel responsible for breaking his heart.
"Take all the time you need. I'll handle the business while you are gone."
"Good. I know you will manage it well, maybe even better than me," he gives you a smile, a real one that reflects the shine in his eyes and you mirror it back. He stands up, buttoning his suit jacket. "Oh, by the way, what is going on between you and your hunk of a bodyguard?"
"Hm? What do you mean?" You feign innocence, avoiding his gaze, surprised at his observation. "Oh please." He gives you an it-is-very-obvious look. "The chemistry between you two has been explosive from day one. You always have that dreamy look in your eyes when you look at him."
"I do not!" You gasp. "Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night." He shakes his head in mirth. You huff out a dejected breath of surrender. "It doesn't matter anyway. He doesn't want me."
"Should I beat him up?" He asks casually, making you snort.
"You would lose, you know." You roll your eyes. That makes him laugh before he takes a step towards you. "I would deprive you of a hug but since you are already heartbroken, come here." 
You immediately get up and wrap your arms around your brother in a tight hug. You sniff, holding back tears as he pats you in the back, and you whisper. "I will miss you. Text me every now and then."
"Will do," he promises with a smile, pulling back and squeezing your shoulder. As he starts walking, he yells over his shoulder, "Do not think of getting married to that hunk while I'm not here though!"
"Yes, sir!" Rolling your eyes, you yell back and watch him walk out the double doors before plopping back on the couch, an eerie feeling of emptiness settling in your chest.
It takes a while for you to realise that tears are streaming down your face. Upon realisation, you simply hang your head low, letting them flow and stare at the floor, vision blurry as you play back the events of the last 6 months in your head. 
A soft knock at the door makes you snap your head up, breaking your trance as you quickly swipe your fingers below your eyes, head turning to see who enters. 
It's Seungcheol, composed in poise and grace as he steps inside before coming to a stand beside you. Silently, he asks for permission to sit, something you have told him multiple times not to do and when you give him a nod he takes a seat opposite to you. "You have been crying," he states quietly as he regards you with a knotted brow. You sigh and blink a couple of times before asking. "I'm fine now. What's the update? Any problems?"
He shakes his head. "Things are under good so far. You still need to give a formal statement at the fundraisers event next week, so you have to prepare for that."
"Hmm," you nod. "What brings you here, then? Are you feeling okay? I told you to take a day..." Your voice fades as you watch him produce a white rectangular envelope from his pocket and push it towards you on the table.
You have a sinking feeling in your chest that it is a resignation letter. 
"I am submitting my letter of resignation." He says, as calmly as ever, his eyes straight on yours. Your mouth opens but fails to deliver the words as you tilt your head to the side, processing this action. 
You have no problem with him resigning. In fact, you had planned to fire him after this hellish week ends so that you two could have a discussion about where your relationship stands, without all these professional restrictions limiting you. However, knowing Seungcheol, you have a sinking suspicion that he isn't quitting so that he can address his feelings for you but so that he can escape. 
Still, you decide to feign ignorance.
"Good. I was planning on firing you anyway. Not that you were bad at your job, you were the best but you need to rest, Seungcheol. And I have Jihoon now so I'll be fine." You nod as you pretend to go through his letter but inside, your hearts thuds so loudly you are afraid it will burst. 
"As of today, I am relieving you of your duties, Choi Seungcheol." You offer him a shaky smile. Seungcheol nods, his face as impassive as ever and you just cannot tell if he is heartbroken or relieved. His body language tells you that he is ready to get up and leave but you do not let that happen so easily.
"Now we can finally talk about our relationship." You speak, trying to keep your voice as stable as possible. Seungcheol visibly tenses as his face loses some of its colour and immediately you know this is not going to end well. 
But you are adamant on seeing this through.
"There is nothing to talk about." His voice is quiet, almost inaudible as he sits there looking like a petulant child lying to his parents. You have to take a deep breath to compose yourself. 
"You can do many things, Seungcheol but you cannot lie to me." You keep your voice as gentle as you can.
Your ex bodyguard seems to agree as he lets out a dejected sigh and stares at the floor very attentively. You watch him with intent for a few long moments, giving him time but ultimately when he remains as stubborn and unmoving as a mule, you break the silence. 
"I will lay all my cards on the table, Seungcheol, since you can't seem to do that. I have feelings for you, Seungcheol. Feelings that are very, very deep and real and I'm willing to act on them. Do what is necessary to make this work— make us work." 
He is quick to disagree. "Those feelings that you talk about, they are not love, ____. It is temporary. The last few weeks have been intense and it's just your body's natural reaction —"
"Do you love me, Choi Seungcheol?" You interrupt him, looking him straight in the eye.  The man looks like he swallowed a sock and you would feel bad for him, maybe even laugh at his reaction if the situation was not so dire.
"It does not matter." He looks away. You have the urge to hurl something at his head; the lamp next to you seems very tempting, but you fight it by clenching your fists a few times, trying to put yourself in his shoes.
"Seungcheol, I heard you that day in the cabin. I hear you now and I completely understand your fears. But I am here and we will work through them. It will take time but I'm ready, no matter how long it takes. I just want you, Seungcheol, and it kills me because I know you want me too yet you keep punishing yourself."
By now you have learned to read the man well and what might be easily overlooked by others comes into your notice; like how he clenches his fists and how his Adams apple bobs as he heavily swallows. The look in his eyes is that of a pure battle, one that he is fighting against himself and it's hard to watch. You are about to stand up and hold his hand when he suddenly moves onto his feet, his posture rigid as he glares down at you.
"I do not want you. What happened at the cabin was a mere moment of weakness. And you don't want me either, ______. You will soon realize it."
This gaslighting asshole!
"So you are going to lie to yourself till the very end?" You hiss, standing up and stepping closer to him, meeting his eyes with an equal glare.  "If anyone is lying to themselves here, it is you." He spits. "Our relationship was supposed to be professional from the start. I am a bodyguard and you are merely one of my protectees. Let us end it that way." He takes a step back while you watch him with a flabbergasted expression at his audacity. He uses your moment of weakness to say. "It was nice working with you. Hopefully, you won't need me again. Goodbye, Ms. Lee." The next moment he is pushing past you as his footsteps echo on the cold marble floor, the sound similar to that of your heart as it cracks.
"If you walk away now, I will never forgive you, Seungcheol!" You yell, voice cracking as tears gather in your eyes, your gaze focused outside the window, your back facing him. No reaction comes from behind you except for the footsteps which come to a halt. 
"Do you really want to end it like this?" Your whisper is followed by silence but through the eerie quietness in the room, you know the words reach him well.
His reply comes a few seconds later, in the form of footsteps that echo farther and farther away from you followed by the sound of the door opening and then closing and then utter silence. —
The fundraiser's event is going in full swing, bustling with people when you arrive. Draped in a red silk dress and diamond jewellery you look like a million bucks but in reality you feel nothing like that and you have no desire to be here whatsoever. But you know it is necessary to make an appearance as the host because it is extremely important to show up after the scandal to assure everyone that things are going well. Except they are not. While your professional life has slowly started getting back to its normal place your personal life has plummeted because all that you have done in the past week is mope around and curse your ex bodyguard and bitch about him to your current one, Jihoon.
The best way you can describe Jihoon is a grumpy cat. He talks very little but whenever he does, he's always huffing and complaining. But you see his softer side peek through from the little acts he does for you like making sure you eat your meals properly, checking up on you after your crying session and preparing all your documents and briefing you every morning. His tsundere antics and his silent company have probably been the only driving force that has kept you sane after Seungcheol dumped you.
The event is taking place in a banquet hall in the city centre and once inside, Jihoon guides you to a private resting room where you get ready for the opening speech. "I don't think I will stay till dinner. It is okay I leave after the speech, no?" You ask Jihoon as you finish revising the script. "Maybe mingle with people a little bit. Behave like a human instead of a broken hearted ghost" he offers, his tone dry as usual. You sigh and shake your head at his reply as you smooth your dress and step forward, waiting for the emcee to call you on stage.
Once on stage, you stand behind the podium, the tireless flashes from the cameras giving you a headache and you have to try your very best to plaster a smile on your face as you greet the guests and start your speech. Jihoon stands a few feet away from you on the stage, his eyes scanning the crowd carefully as he receives constant updates in his Bluetooth. However, not even two minutes into your speech, a man causes commotion as he tries to get on the stage, yelling some nonsense about how you are a fraud and a money launderer. You are baffled as you watch the security planted at the perimeter of the stage get a hold of him and drag him out while whispers and murmurs echo among the guests.
"He looks drunk," Jihoon says as he steps close to you to make sure you are alright. "Ignore him. He shouldn't have been allowed inside. I will have a talk with—" He pauses midway in his sentence as his eyes focus on something behind you, on the other side of the stage, his pupils widening. You can barely process the change in his expression before he tugs you away and shields you with his body as you two roll off the stage.
The next moment, an explosion echoes through the air. There is a ringing in your ears as Jihoon covers you, the echoes of the blast intensifying the headache you already had. You feel disoriented as Jihoon helps you to stand up and ushers you towards the resting room backstage while you hear screams echoing from the guests, their heavy footsteps scattering all over. "Wha- what is going on?" You cry, confused as Jihoon shoves you inside the room. "It is your cousin, Jun."  What!
"Lock the door. His men have blocked the exits. I need to clear them before I come get you. Do not open this door, is that clear?" He orders you and before you can form a reply, he is gone. Confused, scared and exhausted, you fall onto the ground, head in your hands as you fail to wrap your head around the situation. Of course, you knew your cousin was sour after his father's arrest but you never thought he would go this far. What is he thinking? What does he want?
You hear commotion spread outside, things crashing and even a few gunshots. As you step closer to the door to get a better listen there is a loud bang, as if someone is trying to break in.
Absolutely terrified, you step back, frantic eyes looking around the small space for a weapon.
If you knew the night would end up like this you would have brought a fucking gun with you.
Speaking of guns, a gunshot echoes through the air, making you duck your head as you scream. Another gunshot rings through the air and you realise whoever is on the other side is trying to come inside.
You can only pray it is not your fucking cousin, who is a maniac, apparently.
A broad, mean looking thug bursts through the door just as it opens and when his eyes land on you, he points his gun at your head. "Do not think of doing anything smart, woman. If you don't want me to blow your face off, you do as I fucking tell you to." Swallowing, you nod, holding your hands up in surrender.
So this is how it goes down, huh.
The man produces a handcuff from his pocket and tosses it towards you. "Put it on your hands! Now!" With shaky hands, you pick it up and just as you are about to fasten it around one of your wrists, there is a gunshot. You are sure you have been shot as you shut your eyes tight but start to think otherwise when seconds pass and you still feel your heartbeat.
Peeking open one eye you see the thug slumped over on the floor, a clean bullet hole on the back of his head. And in the doorframe, stands Seungcheol, a gun in his hand.
Choi Seungcheol.
Wait, what? How?
Your brain is struggling to catch up as you blink again and again to make sure of his presence. Indeed, he stands there, dressed in a black suit and tie, specks of red on his white shirt as he pants heavily.
What on god's green earth—
"Come on, you need to get out!" He yells, stepping inside the room, reaching for your hand and dragging you outside with him.  You cannot get a word out as you let him lead you, absolutely thunderstruck because of his sudden presence.
What the fuck is he doing here? How did he even know what was going on?
You are so baffled that you cannot speak these thoughts out, simply following him as he carefully guides you towards the exit, his gun drawn in alertness. Just as the backyard of the venue comes into view and Seungcheol is about to usher you outside, you hear a voice yelling from the other side of the hall.
It is your cousin's voice. "Let me go you fucking assholes! I am gonna blow that bitch myself! I am gonna tear her up into fucking pieces! How dare she take what is mine! That's slut! I am gonna…" 
Seungcheol almost pushes you to move as you get stuck in a trance of his mean words. "It is okay, Jihoon has him. Come on."
As if you are functioning on autopilot, you let him guide you outside into the open field and underneath a small sitting area where fresh air finally hits you, letting you breathe in a lungful. Seungcheol informs the other security about the update over his comms as you watch him in silence. When he is done, his eyes finally meet yours and in an instant everything that had gone down in the last month flashes through your head, giving you goosebumps. 
There is a moment of silence as you watch him with a blank expression while he looks around uncomfortably. Finally, he decides to break the silence with a chuckle. "I leave you for a few days and this is what happens?" 
His tone is full of amusement. The nerve of this man. You, however, find none of this amusing. It gets your blood boiling as you hear him say the words, your brain finally registering everything and you simply cannot hold yourself back anymore. The next thing you do is strike a clean, sharp slap on his cheek which catches him off guard as he stumbles a few steps back. His eyes widen in shock, his hand moving to cup the cheek which is turning bright red, like your palm.
You poured your heart and soul and all your pent up emotions into that slap so you pray it stings like a bitch.
Your hand does for sure.
"I deserved that-" Seungcheol starts to speak, holding up his hands but the moment he opens his mouth you are on him again as you grab him by the collars, triggered, "How dare you come here, you scum!" You hiss, tugging at the fabric of his collars while a bewildered Seungcheol tries to gently pry you off of him. "How dare you have the audacity to show up after everything you said?"
"_____, you are gonna hurt yourself—"
"You quit! You made it clear that you had no interest in me, Seungcheol! So what gives you the right to come here and save me, huh?" You are seething, emotions so strong you feel like choking and if you were a cartoon character, visible steam would be coming out of your ears.
"_____, please—"
"Who gave you the right to be a hero, huh? What made you come here? Tell me! Talk, you asshole!" You yell, shaking him, tugging on his collars repeatedly as a wild rage takes over you.
You are going to murder him.
"Because I am in love with you!" He yells back, making your grip falter for a second which he uses to quickly free himself, taking a few steps back as you stare wide eyed at him, panting.
When you finally get enough air in your lungs and process his words, really process them, your wry laugh echoes through the cold night air like mockery. "Fuck you, Seungcheol. I have had enough of your bullshit." You spit, pushed to your limits.
God, give me patience.
"I know," he whispers, taking a step closer while you take one back. "I understand what I have done and I do not expect you to forgive me at all. I just need you to know that I fucking love you and I am so fucking sorry. I know I am late but I am here to stay—"
"No you are not," You snap. "Get the hell away from me before I take a gun and fucking shoot you." 
"If that's what will make you happy..." Seungcheol calmly reaches for his gun as you watch him, alarmed. He takes it off of the holster and holds it out towards you. "Shoot me as many times as you want. I deserve it.
This fucking man—
"Guys, can we do this weird foreplay somewhere else," Jihoon yells from behind you as you spin to see him jogging towards you two. "You need to get out of here, _____. He's saying that there are still explosives in this compound."
"What!" You shriek but before you can get another word out, Seungcheol is grabbing your hand and dragging you with him as he starts sprinting. "Keep me updated," he addresses Jihoon who nods, talking into the comm to get a car at the rear entrance for you.
"Let go, you asshole!" You hiss, trying to pry his fingers off your wrist which proves to be a challenge while running full speed in high heels. "God damn it, Seungcheol, I will fall!" And you almost do so, as you misstep and stumble but the man is quick to catch you and before you can even think, he is throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.  "Put me down, you pig!"
"As soon as we get to the car, angel."
Which is quick, thankfully, because the next moment he is putting you down and holding the passenger side door open for you and despite wanting to resist him, you know the wise idea is to leave right now.  As soon as you are inside the car, he shuts the door before running to the other side and before you can even put your seatbelt on, the car is moving.
"Jihoon will be fine, right?" You ask half mindedly as you turn your head back to look at the venue which gets smaller every passing second. "He will be fine," Seungcheol grunts. "The police have been informed as well as the bomb disposal team." "What about my cousin?" Seungcheol remains quiet for a moment, only staring ahead on the road. "Him? He's  alive, unfortunately."
"What do you mean?" You ask warily.
"I shot him. The bullet hit his abdomen. He won't die, don't worry. That depraved asshole doesn't deserve that mercy." You sigh, rubbing your temples as you lean back into your seat. "What the hell was he thinking?"
"He wanted to hurt you, humiliate you, _____. He had plans to hurt you horribly." Seungcheol huffs out a breath, shaking his head and clenching his jaw. "He has gone insane." That is all he provides, making you fall silent for a moment. "When will this stop." You whisper to yourself. "I never considered him to be a threat."
"I should have. You locked up his father and made sure he could never take over the company. He was a huge threat that I failed to notice." He murmurs.
"Don't start, Seungcheol," you snap at him, irritated. "I'm still tempted to shoot you. Your duty was over the moment you handed in the resignation letter and walked out of my life."
"My biggest mistake." He whispers to himself but you hear it. 
Tired, frustrated, scared and angry, you decide not to engage in this conversation further as you look out the window and wonder what is coming next.  Another media storm for sure.  More interrogations, more meetings with your lawyer.  At the same time, however, the edge that you have been feeling for the last week is gone. The fact that your cousin never came up to you or tried to retaliate his father's arrest in any way made you wonder but it never occurred to you that he could turn violent, insane. 
Jun was after all a puppet, who only did things after his father made the way for him his whole life.
Today was a different case, it looks like. Anyhow, it is somewhat of a win for you because you miraculously got out unscathed and the threat has been neutralised. However, you are sure many have been injured and your reputation has taken a severe hit today. The upcoming months will be very hard, harder than before…
The next coherent thought that comes upon you is that you fell asleep. You open your eyes realising that the car has stopped and the time on the dashboard says about thirty minutes have passed. Blinking, you shift in your seat and find Seungcheol, sitting next to you, watching you with a look that is foreign on his face, something close to adoration. Clearing your throat, you remove your seatbelt and sit up straight.
"How long was I asleep?"
"Not long enough. We just got here." He announces as he moves to open his door. "Come on, let's go inside."
Once you are out of the car, you realise Seungcheol has taken you to a five star hotel and seeing the confusion on your face, he explains. "It's safer here. Can't take any more risks tonight."
He casually slips his hand into yours, making you frown and drags you towards the hotel. Your tired body cannot put up much of a fight so you follow him begrudgingly and you are quickly escorted to the penthouse suite thanks to his prior booking.
Upon entering the suite you walk straight to the master bedroom where the king sized bed calls for your tired self as you sit down and take off your heels, throwing them away on the carpet over the floor with a soft thud, exhaling a loud sigh. Seungcheol follows you and remains quiet as you sit in silence at the edge of the bed, too wired, too disoriented to do anything. Normally, after everything that happened with your uncle your decision making skills have significantly sharpened but having Seungcheol near you, his stupid confession ringing in your head is fucking with your brain. And as if that goddamn man can read your mind, he kneels in front of you on the floor, one of his hands softly touching your knees as he utters. "You need to rest, ______. I will handle everything else. It is all under control now, trust me."
"Why do you do this?" You croak, pushed to the limits of exhaustion, your eyes trained somewhere in an unfocused gaze as you fidget with your hands. "Why do you push me away and then come back running at a time like this?"
He is silent for a long time while you fight to keep your tears at bay.
You will not cry in front of him.
"I am sorry." He only whispers, his fingers softly stroking your knee as his head lowers and his gaze falls down on the floor. "I was foolish and...scared. That night after we slept together you…you said out loud you loved me and I panicked. I was— I am a danger to you. But being away from you for a week was a pain unlike anything else. I went back to that cabin and I slept in your bed and the sheets had the faintest of your smell. Weirdly, your scent and everything you left behind soothed me and I didn't have any nightmares in the past week. But every morning I woke up and there was a sinking feeling in my stomach that only grew each day until I couldn't bear it. I realised that you really were an angel who saved me, brought lightness back into my life, and gave me a new purpose, a new dream. I realised what an idiot I was and I came to the city on Wednesday night. Believe me when I tell you that my intention was to just stay away and make sure you are okay. I knew what I had done and I was in no way worthy of showing up in front of you but I had to intervene tonight, _____. Your life was in danger."
The air conditioner in your room suddenly feels chillier as goosebumps prickle your skin, making you shiver. Seungcheol takes notice of it and stands up quickly to take off his jacket before draping it over your shoulders. He stands in front of you in silence, fingers hovering over your now covered shoulders while you stare at his shoes, your head going blank but also running a mile a minute. The frustration and overwhelmingness bleed together until you can't tell one emotion separate from another.
All of a sudden, Seungcheol's thumbs caress your cheeks while the rest of his fingers softly cup your jaw and it is only then that you realise you have been silently crying. He oh so gently wipes your cheek dry while uttering, "Please don't cry. I know I hurt you. I promise I will leave as soon as I make sure you are going to be okay." Instantly, a part inside your brain is flooded with panic as it screams no. You don't want him to leave when you remember how hard the past week was on you and how many times a day you would revisit that night in the cabin, the moment you two shared and how it proved to be the anchor for you throughout everything that happened after.
You were— are mad at him but you still want him near, crazy is it not?
You keep thinking of how safe you felt the moment Seungcheol found you in tonight's chaos, how just his presence made you fall asleep so easily when for the last week you could not fall asleep without the fear of nightmares.
Yes, they have returned. But you don't see the accident anymore, you see your uncle chasing you around the cabin while you call for Seungcheol but he doesn't come, no matter how much you beg.
And after tonight, you wonder what more nightmares await you. So when you utter the one, very powerful word, you tell yourself that you are doing this for yourself, to be selfish and not for him, which is not a lie entirely. 
"No."
Your left hand reaches to grab the fabric of his shirt and you fist it tightly in your hand. "Don't leave."  You don't dare to look at him, scared you will break once you do and instead focus your gaze on the patterns of the carpet while holding onto his shirt. The next moment Seungcheol is sitting next to you and in the moment after he gently wraps his arms around you, your head falling perfectly against his shoulder while your arms snake around his waist after a moment's hesitation. 
His warm touch soothes your back as his other hand cups the back of your head, softly stroking it with his thumb. A small whimper comes from your mouth as quiet sobs escape from you and you hide your face and weep, trying to stifle the sounds.
"I am so sorry, _____. I am sorry for everything." Seungcheol whispers, voice thick with emotion. "I will make everything better, I promise. I will stay as long as you need me and then… " There is a moment of heavy pause. "When you don't, I will follow you around like a lost puppy for the rest of my life." Thinking about the rest of your life and not having Seungcheol in it makes you sob harder and if you had energy you would scream at him and tell him to just shut up. Instead, you cry, cry your heart out, promising yourself that from tomorrow you won't. 
Tomorrow another battle begins. 
As the night grows deeper, Seungcheol holds you tighter and your sobs gradually fade and before you know it you fall asleep on his shoulder. Seungcheol stays still for a while longer to make sure you don't wake up before gently picking up your sleeping form and setting you down on the bed, fixing the pillow underneath your head and covering you with a blanket. Despite his desire to crawl into bed and sleep next to you, he resists it and instead takes the loveseat in front of the window, where he sits and watches your peacefully sleeping form, before falling asleep himself with a heart full of gratitude.
— You watch the steam from the mug evaporate into the air before taking a small sip. The tea is slightly bitter and hot, just as you need it.
After waking up and taking a quick shower, here you sit, by the window of your penthouse suite, sipping tea, treating yourself to a quiet peaceful moment before your hectic day, which you are frankly not prepared for, begins. 
You woke up to an empty suite, with no sign of Seungcheol and it almost made you wonder if last night was an entire elaborate dream. But then you found his tie lying on the loveseat which acted as a reassurance of his presence, weirdly bringing solace to you. 
After waking up, you realised your phone's battery is dead, which became another source of peace for you, because you know otherwise, it would have been blowing up with calls and you wouldn't have gotten the good night's sleep that you got. 
There's a sudden sound of the door opening that alerts you, making you crane your neck to see the visitor. Seungcheol walks in, dressed completely differently from last night, looking delicious in a light blue polo and white pants. On his hands are two shopping bags and behind him is a hotel staff member who pushes in a huge breakfast trolley. "Good morning, _____." Seungcheol meets your eye as he sets down the shopping bags on the edge of the bed and thanks the staff as he takes his leave.  You watch Seungcheol take off the lids covering the food while speaking, "Breakfast is here. I have asked for a bit of everything you like. And I have got new clothes and some necessities for you. They are in the bag," He points to the general direction as he starts stacking pancakes on a plate for you. You are quite surprised and flattered and you cannot come up with anything else to say but, "Thank you."
For some weird reason, you feel shy and awkward around him as if you are a newborn fawn. Maybe it is because none of you are addressing the elephant in the room; last night's conversation and instead acting like you have known each other for years. "It's my pleasure," he smiles at you, a genuine smile that shows his dimples and makes your heart gallop like a horse. Handing you the plate, he takes a comfortable seat in the chair in front of you and watches you dig in, a look you can only describe as fondness sitting on his face. Feeling shy, you cover your mouth as you chew. "Stop looking at me." 
"You look a bit tired. Did you not sleep well?" He asks suddenly.  "I had a good sleep, thank you." You inform, surprised how he noticed.  You have been feeling a little sick after you woke up despite having a very good night's rest. A headache has been creeping up on your temples but you are trying hard to ignore it because this is not the time to get sick.
You have a long day ahead of you.
Making you jerk, Seungcheol places his palm on your forehead out of the blue as he checks your temperature and an unpleasant look settles on his face. "You are getting a fever." "No, I'm not." You direct your focus on cutting your pancakes, using too much pressure. Ignoring you, the man dials a number on his phone and asks for some cold medicine to be brought to the hotel room to whoever is on the other side. "I just told you, I am fine." You frown, annoyed. He hangs up and stares at you as if you are speaking a different language. "You are not. You need to take the medicine and get some rest."
"Now is not the time for me to sleep! Do not play doctor!" You snap, setting the plate down with a loud bang as you clutch the fork and knife tightly in your hand. Seungcheol does not react to your outburst but simply changes position as he comes to sit next to you.
"Your cousin is in custody. I talked with your lawyer this morning, he is preparing everything well. There is no way he is getting off. Jihoon and his men already testified to the police so you do not have to meet with them unless you want to add something. If you do, I will arrange a phone call with the station. The legal department is working on a statement and it will be released today in a press conference. The CFO will read it out." He informs, casually. 
"You are sick, _____. And it's okay .You went through a lot. It is okay if you take a break today. No one is asking you to go out there and face the demons. You need to rest. Your body is asking for it." 
His voice softens as one of his hands comes to rest on your thigh gently. The assurance in his voice paired with the tenderness in his eyes makes you swallow a lump in your throat and blink back tears. "Still..."
"Finish your breakfast." He says as he reaches for the plate while taking the fork and knife out of your hand and cutting it into bite sized pieces. "And you should probably call your brother today, by the way. The news of last night's events will reach him sooner or later and I think it would be best if he heard it from you."
You nod, feeling sad. Chan just left for a vacation one week ago. When he hears about this, he will definitely catch the next flight home.
"If you do not want to call him, I can do it for you." Seungcheol offers as he finishes his task and hands the plate and cutlery back to you.
"No, I will do it." You murmur and silently go back to eating. Seungcheol watches you in silence for the rest of the meal and after you are done, the staff returns to clean up and drops your medicines. You take them and then sit in your bed idly, watching the city skyline through your window, trying not to overthink anything. You can hear Seungcheol talk over the phone in the other room before he steps back into the master bedroom to check up on you.
"If you feel too sick, let me know. I will take you to the hospital." 
You softly nod and turn your head to look at him. He appears worried, his eyes glazed with concern, his brows forming a knot as if he's trying to read you. After a moment, you silently motion him to come sit by you on the bed which he diligently follows. 
His hands reach out to hold yours, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he gazes into your eyes, leaning closer to you, his eyes searching for something in yours. His bangs fall forward, cupping his temples and you itch to brush them away.  "Tell me what you are thinking." He whispers.
"You have pretty hair." You reply honestly and he chuckles, shaking his head before his face becomes serious.  "I missed you." His voice is low, almost inaudible as his gaze falls down to your linked hands, as if he is ashamed to meet your eyes when saying that. "I missed you too." You reply honestly, once again. Seungcheol seems surprised to hear that and you cannot help but roll your eyes.
"Oh please, Choi Seungcheol. Don't act like you had no idea." Your head rests against the headboard as you make yourself comfortable and scowl at him. "You knew very well how much effect you had on me and you knew damn well how much I loved you."
"Loved me?"
"Okay, love you—"
"Wait, no— you...love me? Really? You didn't say it that night in the heat of the moment?" You only realise then how you just casually spat it out, again, and immediately, heat blooms on your face. You avoid his gaze, snatching your hands from his grip while he looks absolutely stunned.
"Whatever." You mutter, scooting down on the bed, reaching to grab the sheets and hide yourself in them but Seungcheol stops you as he cages you between his arms, his face hovering dangerously close to yours, his perfume and aftershave blending into an addictive scent that makes your brain hazy with need.
Control yourself, woman! "Answer me. You love me?" "Ugh, you heard me the first time," you groan, trying to twist away from him but he stops you by cupping your chin and making you face him. 
"Wanna know something?" He whispers, inching his face closer.
"What?" You are breathless.
"I love you too, ____." He replies, his lips ghosting over yours. You anticipate a kiss but he doesn't, instead tucks your hair behind your ear as he whispers in your ear. "I am so deeply, madly in love with you it is embarrassing."
The words are music to your ears and your insides swoon as you close your eyes and relish them, pressing your lips tight to prevent yourself from breaking into a maniacal grin. Seungcheol shifts his weight back and rests himself on his one palm as his other hand softly cups your face. "And I am sorry, once again, for what I did to you."
"Good but I am still mad." You try your best to appear stern.
"I know." His expression is solemn. "I plan on making it up to you until my dying breath."
When did he become so romantic?
"You may start by cuddling me," you whisper, almost shy, carefully watching his reaction. He immediately proceeds to get under the sheets with you and carefully engulfs you into his large arms, your face resting against his solid chest as his hand strokes your hair soothingly. Your arms move to snake around his waist as you feel yourself relax, his arms feeling like the safest, most comfortable place in the entire universe and you never, ever want to leave.
"I love you, Seungcheol." Your voice is muffled against his chest.
"I love you more, angel. So much more."
1 month later 
The view around the cabin is just as pretty as you remember it. The setting sun of dusk casts it in a beautiful glow which you stop and stand to admire. 
Beside you, Seungcheol finishes parking the jeep and unloads the overnight bags from the trunk. 
"What are you looking at?" He asks when he comes to stand next to you, fishing for keys from his pocket in one hand.
"It's very beautiful." You murmur, eyes glancing over the view before settling down on the man next to you. He is dressed in a grey t-shirt, his blond hair looking as gorgeous as ever, if not more in the golden hour and you know, he is undoubtedly the epitome of beauty. 
Seungcheol meets your stare with equal sincerity as he reaches to hold your hand, whispering. "Yes, it is." You know he is talking about you.
A light, gleeful laugh escapes your lips as you playfully push him with your shoulder. He grins and drags you with him inside the cabin.
It is hard to believe that this place was a crime scene about a month ago. Seungcheol did some thorough renovations and now the place looks more beautiful, cozier than ever.
As much as your heart wishes to stay in this little piece of green heaven forever, this is a small weekend getaway that Seungcheol organised and initiated by picking you up early from work today. You did not complain because the past few weeks were tough.
Getting your company back together after the fundraiser's incident and making sure you are still in the market is taking a lot of well thought plans and manpower and instructions. You have help, of course, from Chan who immediately rushed home from his vacation when he heard about Jun's attack on you. Seungcheol also has been helping you a lot, though you officially denied him the position of your bodyguard. 
He then started working as a security consultant at his friend's company and has been assisting you however he could throughout the past month. He also started therapy again and so far his progress is remarkable. He is a lot less self sabotaging and he has not had a nightmare ever since you got back together, much like you. Not to mention he has been working extra hard to make it up to you, always catering to your every little need and never asking for anything in return or initiating anything, even though you have noticed multiple times how his eyes trail you around hungrily. 
So far, you have only rewarded him with kisses because it was too much fun to watch him silently suffer.  However, you plan to change that this weekend.
"Let's watch the sunset together," you propose as Seungcheol drops your bags in the bedroom. He agrees and you two walk back outside to the patio, hands linked where you stand and gaze at the setting sun. Seungcheol's arms wrap around you protectively from behind and his chin comes to rest on your shoulder.
"We need to get groceries." He murmurs absentmindedly as he presses a soft kiss on your neck that makes you sigh in pleasure. You hum, offering that you could just order takeout. As the sun dips beneath the horizon, Seungcheol takes occasional peeks at your face, admiring the mesmerised look in your eyes. His heart beats loudly, wild in love as he imagines the rest of his life with you and how it would be to watch you watch the sunset.
Delightful. Like the delightful secret he is hiding. A huge secret that has been burning holes in his pocket for a month.  After the night of the attack, the next morning when he went to shop for your clothes at the mall, a ring caught his eye in a jewellery store and he purchased it right there, intent on putting it on your finger someday.
He has been carrying it ever since, waiting for the perfect moment to get down on one knee.  Maybe this weekend will carry that moment, maybe not.
Either way, it is fine. He is not in a rush. He knows he will get down on one knee when he deems himself worthy enough of you. Though, logically it might never happen because no one is worthy of a person as beautiful, as amazing as you. But he will work very hard to be worthy of you, now and every day that he has on this planet. Seungcheol smiles to himself, agreeing that he's a very lucky bastard. "Cheol?" You call him by his nickname, breaking his train of thought. "Hm?" "I love you." You whisper. His next words are the sweetest serenade. "I love you more, angel."
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A/N: If you have made it this far, congratulations and a huge thank you for taking the time to read this mammoth of a fic! I genuinely put my blood, sweat and tears into this and believe me when I tell you that my wrists hurt like hell. Still, I am glad I could share this with the world and I'm very proud of myself for successfully putting the conjectural idea from my head to the paper. It took a lot of time to come up with the idea, finalize it and stitch the pieces together so please leave a review and reblog! Your thoughts and comments really make my day. Wishing you a happy October! As a side note, I am swearing off of writing fics over 20k words. When I tell you that this app whopped my ass while posting this! My god! I was seriously considering breaking it into two parts. If you are reading this now that means I have hopefully posted it without trouble. Anyway, toodles!
© startlightxsvt 2023 | All rights reserved. Do not copy, repost, translate, adapt, or repurpose any of my works.
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bad268 · 1 year ago
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hi!! can i request a clingy paul aron x reader? kinda similar to what you wrote for kimi antonelli. maybe him being extra clingy when he finally gets home after a long day or early mornings? tysm!! i love your works
Hold Me (Paul Aron X Reader)
Fandom: RPF/F2/F3
Requested: Clearly (Thank you love <3 it's kinda short but i didn't wanna make it too close to Kimi's)
Warnings: none
POV: Second Person (You/your)
W.C. 893
Summary: After a bad weekend, Paul wants to be held by you.
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
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~~(^Pinterest)
Paul never considered himself a clingy person, but even he could admit that his thoughts were borderlining it. He just could not focus all day, and all he wanted was to be as close to you as humanly possible. You had gone home for the weekend for your sibling’s graduation, and you had gotten back to your shared apartment right after he left for the race weekend.
He would say that he just missed you. Not seeing your significant other for just over a week when you’re used to walking up with them every day will make you yearn for them.
He had a long day on the track, and he just wanted to be held by you. With staring on the front row, having to retire from the sprint the day before due to a technical problem, and getting caught up in a midfield drash during the feature race, he was just done. Thankfully, he had booked his flight home for only a few hours after the race. This would give him time to attend the debrief, do some media, and dip out of there. Granted, the debrief was quick because his races were short, and the media was not nearly as extensive as it would have been if he’d finished either race. 
Paul was silent as he left the track. He was silent the entire way back to the hotel, silent as he packed his bags, silent as he rode to the airport, and silent almost the entire flight home. He did not feel like engaging in small talk with people, so he did not speak until spoken to. Plus, he knew that when he landed, he would be one step closer to you. He just had to get through the painstakingly long time it took to get to you. 
Your apartment was not too far from the airport, but he never wanted you to pick him up when he landed at such a late hour. He had worked it out that Ralf would pick him up, but you messaged Ralf separately because you also could not wait for Paul to get in. 
You thought it would be funny to make him a “welcome home” sign to hold up in the airport, so you had been working on it during the day. It had all of his favorite colors and streamers on the bottom. You were sure it would catch his attention.
So there you were, standing in arrivals. You could have looked better, but it was nearly midnight. To be honest, you were planning on just going to sleep as soon as you both got home. You had on one of Paul’s hoodies and a pair of sweatpants, but it was comfortable. You checked the status of Paul’s plane and moved to get the sign ready when you saw that the plane landed a few minutes ago. You would be seeing him shortly. 
Paul was ready to hurt someone. He was tired from the race, his eyes burned, and his head hurt. All he wanted to do was go home, crawl into bed with you, and not do anything for the foreseeable future. He grabbed his bags and made his way off of the plane. He knew his home airport like the back of his hand, so he was able to walk to arrivals with his eyes almost entirely closed. When he finally made it to arrivals, he briefly scanned the small crowd, looking for his brother, but when his eyes landed on bright colors and streamers, he chuckled to himself.
“Awe, someone’s family must have really missed them,” He thought before looking at the person holding it. 
You saw his gaze on you as he closed his eyes, took a breath, and walked faster toward you. You put the sign on the ground as he set his bags down, and wrapped his arms around your shoulder, hiding his face between your neck and shoulder.
“Hi baby,” You whispered as you hugged him back and ran your fingers through his hair. “I missed you. Did you like the sign?”
“It’s cute,” He said curtly, holding you tighter against himself. You let the silence fall between you as other families reunited and left, but you two stayed still. It was clear to you that he needed this.
“Are you ready to head home?” You asked after everyone else had cleared out. You tried to pull away from Paul, even if you were still within arm's length, but as soon as you moved, he whined. “Baby, how am I supposed to get us home if you won't let me go?”
“Can you just hold me? We can call an Uber or something, but can you please just hold me?” He asked in a quiet, almost timid, tone. It was not one you were used to hearing from him, so you were immediately concerned.
“If this is about the race, don’t even worry about it,” You tried to comfort, “There will be more races. You are not defined by your race results.”
“No it’s not that,” Paul responded as he tried to bury his face as deep into your shoulder as possible. “I just really wanted to see you, and I couldn’t. The race result just made it all worse, but I have you now, and I don't plan on letting you go.”
~~~~~
© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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tearsofastraeax · 6 months ago
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a/n: guys, sorry for letting you wait this long, but i'm back with the next update and what can i say, i started listening to lana del rey again so i will only be getting more dramatic from here on out
cw: we've been through this before, it's angsty, and maybe morally questionable
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5
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over the course of the next week, you dodged bullets left and right. mostly in the form of stupid presents, flowers and tacky cards announcing how sorry simon was. every single one ended up in the trash.
it didn't get easier. especially with these constant reminders thrown at you. a few days ago, you had even considered taking off a couple days from work and just booking a flight to somewhere, anywhere really, just to get some semblance of peace. 
he'd probably still find you though. 
you snorted at the thought, how wonderful. would you be tortured by your ex-boyfriend for the rest of your days? 
you tried to clear your head, your feet dragging you towards to bar you were planning to meet a friend of yours. even though you'd rather just wrap yourself in a blanket and not leave the house for the foreseeable future, your friend had made a great point by dragging you out. nothing would get better by wallowing in self-pity. 
as you cautiously stepped into the bar, you scanned the room, there were a couple of groups of people already gathered around tables, but you couldn't see your friend yet.
so, you stepped over to the bar and decided to order a drink already, you certainly needed it. you ditched your coat and plopped down on one of the bar stools. 
as you waited, you mindlessly scrolled through your phone, watching the minutes slowly dragging by, no sign of your friend yet. maybe you should have just stayed at home after all. 
your thoughts slowly began to wander again, but just in that moment the door of the bar opened, and a cool rush of air enveloped you. a smile spread over your features as your eyes lifted to the door. but just as quickly as your expression had lit up, it dropped again. 
it wasn't your friend standing in the door. it was john price, out of all people. 
your eyes darted from him to the space behind him, barely able to see if anyone was behind him, his wide body nearly blocking out the whole view. you readied yourself to search for an emergency exit in the back or hide in the bathroom for the next hours. 
as he stepped through the door and it fell closed behind him, a breath you didn't realize you were holding escaped you. he was alone.
in the next moment though his eyes caught yours, surprise crossed his features before a sheepish smile dragged his lips upward. 
you didn't know what to do so you just ended up staring at him like some kind of idiot, while he walked over to you. he sat down at the bar, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of ease as he regarded you with those warm eyes. 
"'ello doll. fine seeing you 'ere, how have ya been?" his gruff voice wrapped you in a haze. 
you couldn't help the slight tug of your lips as you watched him. 
"are you stalking me? simon send you after me now?" your voice carried more anger than you had planned, it was supposed to be a bit of a joke, though when you thought about it, you wouldn't put it past him. 
"simon sending... - what? doll, i wouldn't stalk you or nothin' like that. i can leave, ya know, i'm sorry if i was bothering you." 
he made to get up, but before you could think about it you grabbed his arm. he halted immediately. your eyes zeroed in on where you had made contact with him. the soft fabric of his shirt and the straining muscles hiding beneath it. 
you barely snapped out of your haze, dropping your hand and regarding him with an apologetic smile. 
"sorry, i didn't mean it like that. it's just -" you let out a big sigh, were you really going to unload on your ex's boss now? "never mind, sorry again, i don't mean to drag you into this." 
price regarded you with a warm smile. he dropped back down on the bar stool and turned towards you. 
"don't worry about it, darling. i'm happy to listen, but you don't have to share. let's talk about something else, how's that cat of yours doin'?" 
you couldn't hold back the giggle that escaped you, internally smacking yourself for acting so out of the loop. 
but you quickly fell into the quiet hum of a conversation, staying far off the topic of him. john told you about the new plans for his house and you went on about the new plants and decoration pieces you had bought yourself in a rush of sudden self-care in the form of online shopping. 
your earlier worries, and even your plans were all but forgotten. the alcohol cursed through your veins and settled you in a hazy state. your laughs came easier. your walls lowering. 
maybe this wasn't all that bad. 
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note: sooooooo, i hope i can update again more regularly, but i did wanna put out a lil warning, i'm starting a new job on the 3rd and i'm not sure yet how that's gonna affect my creativity and especially my availability to write. i hope you understand and i'll try to keep feeding you with this angsty goodness <33
taglist: @rafaelacallinybbay @fruitymoonbeams-blog @jdeclerc @valuyhh @galactict3a @etotruski @littlezarp @kentwos @strawberrygato
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forthelostones · 1 year ago
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𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ➺ 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 #1
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anderson construction and landscaping had been parked outside your door since you returned home from university. as if the summer couldn't get any hotter, the business owner works overtime in your area. anderson is collecting new, loyal clients of your neighbors, cementing her permanence in your life for the next few months. what's to come of your girlish crush when she keeps showing up?
𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 18+ (mdni); age-gap, young!reader, older!abby, butch!abby, slow-burn, suggestive language, thoughts of infidelity, ellie ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parents, nickname: sweetheart, and modern au.
𝚊𝚗. everyone wow thank you so much for the love on for your eyes only! it means so much. here’s something a little different, hope you enjoy. any requests don’t hesitate to drop ‘em, xx jstar.
♫ 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. apple by kaina ♫
palestinians still need e-sims!!! click the link to figure out how you can donate.
Moving home after your final year of college was a depressing wake-up call. Although you left university with a girlfriend, job prospects, and a degree,  the idea of being stuck at home loomed. Your parents were glad to have you back, but being home for the foreseeable future meant stress from them, work, and a major makeover to your childhood bedroom if you were to stay for the duration of your job search. 
A week after returning, the hum of summertime was loud and breaking into a cycle, migrating into your new sleeping schedule. The lawnmowers, construction work, and barking dogs awakened you like an orchestra's forte. You groaned into your hot pink pillowcase and rolled over to the glittering through your matching translucent curtains. Your room was filled with boxes and suitcases you hadn’t bothered to unpack yet. 
Your mom insisted that you both needed something to occupy your time with. Arts and crafts, baking, and daily walks before breakfast and after dinner were the three you agreed to. You noted the dingy baby pink and cream tiles with ballerinas twirling in clouds on the window and shower curtains. A summer project was ahead of you and that was renovating your room to make your long-term stay more plush. You groaned out of frustration, which was getting comfortable knowing you weren’t moving out anytime soon. Even the towels your parents had embroidered for your 16th birthday would find a way to the Goodwill, despite the sentimental value, your age indicates a divestment from girlish things.
“You have five minutes!” Mom hollered from the foyer. 
A quick wash and brush was all you could handle before jumping into mismatched university attire to meet her downstairs. Your mom was already stepping in place, 5 Ibs weights in her hands, and a sweatband glued to her forehead. You grab your fanny pack and strap it to your chest, ready for a long morning. The chorus outside of the door made the suburbia turn into a city. Your neighbors are above 50, watering their lawns or watching someone else do it. Washing their cars and playing in the yard with their freshly born grandchildren, and you knew every day would follow this routine. 
Just four houses down, sitting on the corner near the stop sign, were two cherry red pickup trucks with a white emblem. Construction workers were hopping in and out of the trucks, removing tools and ladders from the cargo bed, with heavy pants and boots to match. Your mom paused just before the house to see that they had already torn off the shingling, a section of the deck, and from the porch, preparing for the next step. The men were young and old, shirtless or hefty with matching muscles bulging through spandex tops. Mom’s face twisted in a sordid pleasure at the workers. A few waved to you both, making your cheeks glow with embarrassment. It wasn’t unusual for housewives to stand and watch any action in this neighborhood, especially sweating men. 
“Okay, let’s get some tasks assigned.” A woman with glimmering blonde hair marched out of the house in black cargo pants, keys attached to the loop, the same work boots as her counterparts, and a brown clipboard. You crossed your arms under your chest and watched her command the swarm's attention. She was tall and fit — a feature of the job — lightly tanned and had wide thighs that poked at the fabric of her pants. Her forearms were bursting the seams of her white t-shirt, adorned with a sleeve of tattoos coasting on her right arm. You concluded they were faded from the exposure to sunlight and worn with time. Her hair was tied in a taut bun to the nape of her neck, and not a single hair was out of place. You recognized that despite her apparent line of work, she remained clean with no exceptions, even if she was lugging 4x4s around all day. The woman wrote something on the clipboard and briefly looked up at you. Your gaze dropped rapidly at your school gear and dirty chucks, wondering how she perceived you in that quick glance — probably childish. Continuing your walk by the trucks, you saw the logo that read Anderson Construction and Landscaping. 
꒰ঌ ໒꒱
Dinner was busy with your parents and your girlfriend chattering about her new job in California, set to begin in four months. You and Ellie met at the local bar after she finished a shift at the mechanic shop in town. She has been covered in motor oil and dirt while being loud with her coworkers in the corner of the campus meet-up on karaoke night. She was sipping her beer, watching you laugh as your roommates made a fool of themselves. The occasional whistle or grunt left her lips to get you all to giggle, but it didn’t work on you. 
The dark-haired clown caught your arm just as you and your friends left for the next stop. She just held out her phone and left you with a cheeky grin. Several months later, you two became exclusive. That same girl sat at your parent's oak dining table, drinking the same brand of beer, dressed in semi-clean clothes, hand on your thigh, chuckling with your family. 
“Fantastic Ellie. I told you the welding certification would serve you well. And I mean… all that construction work you did on my brother’s house was beautiful, especially for an amateur.” Your Dad mentioned. 
“I know sir, thanks. It’s been crazy, but yeah. Thank you.” She smiled. 
You sat with a loose grin, hoping no one noticed your sadness at her great accomplishment. Doing long distance was the last thing you wanted, but it was the only realistic option. You were jealous of Ellie and her ability to be employed so quickly. She hadn't finished college, though hefty with certifications, or kept a job longer than three months. Her lack of professionalism and commitment puzzled you as traits an employer would simply look past.
“Okay ladies, you know the drill.” Mom blurted. 
Ellie held your hand as you went on the post-dinner walk. The wind was timid as the sun set behind the silhouette of houses on the road. Only one of the trucks remained on the street. The soft hammering of nails into wood echoed into the now-empty neighborhood. The blonde bull was working on the deck, hammer in hand, slamming into the wood with her body glazed in sweat. She lost the shirt she was wearing earlier and was stripped down to a black sports bra. Your eyes fell to the flaxen blonde trail perfectly sitting between her abs leading into her pants. Ellie squeezed your hand, bursting you out of the bubble of the older woman's world. 
“Working hard?” Mom hollered. 
The woman turned her head with a piano-tiled grin and waved her hammered hand in our direction. Without reluctance, you abandoned Ellie’s hand and waved back shyly. She dropped her tools and walked towards the small herd of women before her. Those broad shoulders were perfectly square as she lifted her chin to strut to you. Your eyes were caught by the tan line made from her pants and slightly pudding belly. “Hello there.” She grinned, drawing your attention to her icy iris'. 
Although she wore a stern face, matured by wrinkles, her husky voice was sincerely inviting. Your mother met her halfway at her truck, and you followed shortly behind. 
“Still working? It’s past dinner!” 
You mom was more concerned about her diet than her name. 
“Perks of being a business owner,” She shrugged. “Abigail Anderson.” 
Abigail offered her worn hand to your mother, Ellie, and then you. You looked down at the sage veins lining her calloused hands absorbing her grip into yours. 
“Good for you Abigail, a woman in construction is rare but a sight for sore eyes. Ellie here dabbles in it too, it’s a growing field for us.” Mom smirks. 
“Ah, nice.” Ms. Anderson replied. “You local?” 
“I am, just out east,” Ellie replied.
“If you’re ever looking for work, just let me know. I’ll be working on this house for a few months. I can always use extra hands.” She offered. 
Ellie nodded her head with her traditional money-hungry grin. 
“Nice meeting you all, but I have to finish this up before the sun sets.” 
“As do we, take care Abigail.” 
Mom and Ellie start walking ahead of you and just as you move to join them, a mumble comes from Abigail. You would have missed it if you were only an inch farther from her.   “Have a good night, sweetheart.” She drawled. 
You looked over your shoulder towards her and smirked, trying to hide in some way, but she saw and mirrored your affections. 
꒰ঌ ໒꒱
Ellie’s lips were pressed against your neck with sleepy kisses. Your eyes fluttered while your girlfriend’s hand traveled toward the waistband of your pajama shorts. 
“Baby.” She moaned, tattooed arm now creating a dam between the fabric and your skin. 
Her hand rested there, awaiting the arrival of your arousal while sucking circles on the sensitive skin on your neck. Ellie’s tongue tickled your ear as she suckled softly into a short laugh. With a turn of your head, you meet her nose and purse your lips into hers. Her leg dropped over your lap. Her tongue slipped past your lips, making you deposit a moan straight in her mouth. She knew all it took was a kiss to get your pussy throbbing. Those long fingers dipped into your slick and came to your clit and began drawing lazy ovals. 
Without breaking contact with you, Ellie slots her thigh in between your legs and presses upwards, waking you up out of your slumber. A hushed groan vibrates on her lips. “You don’t have long Els,” You remind her. The morning walk would commence soon and the only thing on your mind was Abigail Anderson. Suddenly your brain couldn’t decide if you should think about her or what Ellie was currently doing to your cunt. 
“Els, let’s continue after breakfast.” You murmured. 
Ellie scrunched her face up at your refusal but accepted with no questions. 
Your girlfriend watched as you slipped on a cotton thong and sports bra before squeezing into a matching gym set. Her feet dangled off the edge of your twin bed, admiring your ass and hips. You both joined your mother for the walk, where two Anderson Construction and Landscaping trucks parked. The same setup, watered yards, screaming grandchildren, barking dogs, and Ms. Anderson. Last night, your mind painted a story of who she is and was before the moments of meeting you on the street. She couldn’t have been much older than you, but not much younger than your parents, and trying to do the math confused you. But one thing was for certain, your curiosity was getting the best of you. 
This morning, coming up on the Anderson Co.-issued trucks, you wondered if your mother would flag her down again. Part of you had been grateful for her boldness but downright embarrassed. Your mom kept her feet moving in place as she observed all the men and Ms. Anderson moving wood from the trucks to the yard. Her sweatband from the 70s invoked a comical scene on the sidewalk as a few other neighbors walked by, staring her down. She dodged them by crossing the street and standing on the edge of the trimmed grass, leaving the grassy preformation between the sidewalk and road. 
“Boys, if you ever need a glass of tea or lemonade, I am just four houses down, you understand? Now I am CPR certified so feel free to pass out from heatstroke at any time!” She exclaimed, making Ellie crow a wicked laugh. 
Thank you miss, Will do, Sounds amazing, We’ll take you up on that!
Abigail came from the front side of the house to see what was keeping up her worker bees. Her brow tugged towards her nose in a look of frustrated confusion. “Are we having a party? Let’s go! Hourly pay not salary!” She screamed. 
Your thighs clenched together slightly at the ululation that came from her. She was so stern that you almost grabbed your tools and got to work. She came over to us with that side smirk that's still imprinted in your brain from the other day. Her attire was simple, khaki pants and a white shirt with her company logo on the right breast pocket. Stuffed in that very pocket was a pair of sunglasses, a chalk line, and a few pencils. “So it’s you bothering my guys, huh?” 
“Guilty,” Mom raises her right hand. 
“Can’t blame ‘em, bunch of gorgeous ladies like yourself cruising around, the perfect distraction.” 
Your eyes opened wider as you deciphered her (possible) nod to you when saying gorgeous was intended to seem like a sly compliment.
“I invited them down to our house for some refreshments during their break.” 
“How sweet of you? Thank you. I’ll remind them at lunchtime.” 
She waved us off and we were on our way. As your Mom and Ellie walked away, you turned back to her hoping she’d do the same to you. What a waste of a good outfit, you thought. Just as you turn the corner to see a now-working Abigail, she lifts her eyes from the clipboard toward you and back. 
Mom was in the kitchen mixing two pitchers of tea and lemonade while dinner was roasting in the oven. She demanded you go to the basement and get several beers out of the freezer. You cut up small lemon and lime wedges and placed them on the rim of free-standing glasses on a bronze tray. It was their lunch time and they came quickly down the road to receive a refreshing cup of what my mom was serving up. You set up camp in the front yard, opening the garage and using an old table with matching chairs to set up a display for the construction workers. 
They took off their hard hats and sunglasses to greet you with their lunch pails in hand. They spread out after retrieving their drinks and tearing into the lunches their wives and girlfriends packed for them the night before. Only one person was missing. 
“Surely, she’s still working. Honey, go fetch that Abigail, but entice her with an Arnold Palmer first.” Mother poured a glass of lemonade and sweet tea into one and handed it to you before you could protest. 
The walk down the street seemed long, especially with you balancing a glass in your hand with a lime wedge. You heard the same tacking of the hammer against wood as you walked up from the sidewalk, through the grass, several feet behind her. “Ms. Anderson,” You cough. “Ms. Anderson!” 
The second time, she turned to you with her brow lifted upwards. 
“Oh. Hi.” She panted, wiping her forehead on her damp shirt, the specks of dancing freckles embellishing her nose and cheeks coming into plain view.
You say nothing but extend your hand out to her. She takes the sweating glass with a quiet kindness. Abigail does a once-over of your body, crown of your head, breast, and feet. Her obvious scan of your body left you feeling naked. She was two feet taller than you, putting a few inches on Ellie. Even thinking of the comparison made you weak. She raised her eyebrows as if to say, speak.
“My mom sent me.” You blab, instantly regretting it. 
“Ah, I see. Hm,” She pressed her lips onto the glass, leaving prints of them on the rim. “How’d you know I liked Arnold Palmers?” She cocked her head as the corners of her mouth curled upward in a suspicious smirk.
“I think everyone does.” You quirk. 
She holds her belly and laughs faintly. “You’re not wrong.” 
The wind whispers a pregnant pause between you both. 
“If you want, your guys are having lunch at our place and sitting down in the shade.” 
She sips again, “Right. Uh.” 
Her manicured yet dirt-caked fingers trill on the glass serving as a physical manifestation of her contemplation.
“I’m a’right. Your mom was entirely too sweet.” She raises the glass to indicate what sweetness she's referring to - the drink, not you. 
“Okay. But you know she’s going to be mad if she finds out you don’t take a lunch.” 
Abigail flared her back out, elbows reaching backward and breasts out to stretch. The peek you stole of her wet skin hidden under that shirt created a fire in your belly. Condensation from the glass dripped down her arm, and she wiped the moisture on the leg of her pants. Cooly, the woman raised her chilled hand to her neck and massaged it. You heard from Ellie how painful the job is on the body and wanted to treat Ms. Anderson to some beginner kneading.
“You’re right, she would be. I will just stop and play pretend. How 'bout that?” 
“You catch on quickly, Ms. Anderson.” You grin. 
She gulps the drink in two swallows and lets the ice cube fall into her mouth. “I’d like to think so,” She says, crunching the cube between her teeth, allowing the melted remnants to dribble around her chin. 
“Ms. Anderson? Just call me Abby, sweetheart.” She imposed.
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probablyasocialecologist · 11 months ago
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This is it. Generative AI, as a commercial tech phenomenon, has reached its apex. The hype is evaporating. The tech is too unreliable, too often. The vibes are terrible. The air is escaping from the bubble. To me, the question is more about whether the air will rush out all at once, sending the tech sector careening downward like a balloon that someone blew up, failed to tie off properly, and let go—or more slowly, shrinking down to size in gradual sputters, while emitting embarrassing fart sounds, like a balloon being deliberately pinched around the opening by a smirking teenager. But come on. The jig is up. The technology that was at this time last year being somberly touted as so powerful that it posed an existential threat to humanity is now worrying investors because it is apparently incapable of generating passable marketing emails reliably enough. We’ve had at least a year of companies shelling out for business-grade generative AI, and the results—painted as shinily as possible from a banking and investment sector that would love nothing more than a new technology that can automate office work and creative labor—are one big “meh.” As a Bloomberg story put it last week, “Big Tech Fails to Convince Wall Street That AI Is Paying Off.” From the piece: Amazon.com Inc., Microsoft Corp. and Alphabet Inc. had one job heading into this earnings season: show that the billions of dollars they’ve each sunk into the infrastructure propelling the artificial intelligence boom is translating into real sales. In the eyes of Wall Street, they disappointed. Shares in Google owner Alphabet have fallen 7.4% since it reported last week. Microsoft’s stock price has declined in the three days since the company’s own results. Shares of Amazon — the latest to drop its earnings on Thursday — plunged by the most since October 2022 on Friday. Silicon Valley hailed 2024 as the year that companies would begin to deploy generative AI, the type of technology that can create text, images and videos from simple prompts. This mass adoption is meant to finally bring about meaningful profits from the likes of Google’s Gemini and Microsoft’s Copilot. The fact that those returns have yet to meaningfully materialize is stoking broader concerns about how worthwhile AI will really prove to be. Meanwhile, Nvidia, the AI chipmaker that soared to an absurd $3 trillion valuation, is losing that value with every passing day—26% over the last month or so, and some analysts believe that’s just the beginning. These declines are the result of less-than-stellar early results from corporations who’ve embraced enterprise-tier generative AI, the distinct lack of killer commercial products 18 months into the AI boom, and scathing financial analyses from Goldman Sachs, Sequoia Capital, and Elliot Management, each of whom concluded that there was “too much spend, too little benefit” from generative AI, in the words of Goldman, and that it was “overhyped” and a “bubble” per Elliot. As CNN put it in its report on growing fears of an AI bubble, Some investors had even anticipated that this would be the quarter that tech giants would start to signal that they were backing off their AI infrastructure investments since “AI is not delivering the returns that they were expecting,” D.A. Davidson analyst Gil Luria told CNN. The opposite happened — Google, Microsoft and Meta all signaled that they plan to spend even more as they lay the groundwork for what they hope is an AI future. This can, perhaps, explain some of the investor revolt. The tech giants have responded to mounting concerns by doubling, even tripling down, and planning on spending tens of billions of dollars on researching, developing, and deploying generative AI for the foreseeable future. All this as high profile clients are canceling their contracts. As surveys show that overwhelming majorities of workers say generative AI makes them less productive. As MIT economist and automation scholar Daron Acemoglu warns, “Don’t believe the AI hype.”
6 August 2024
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ishgard · 29 days ago
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Ahru Hiraeth, Ward of House Leveilleur;
Behold: A mess of notes (part 1) I've been accumulating for this AU:
1559 - Ahru is born to Ahnia Hiraeth. It is soon evident she lacks the requisite aetheric potential to succeed her mother as Mir'amna of the Hiraeth. Her birth is believed to be a sign heralding the Hiraeth prophecy of the 'White Wolf of Ruin'.
1564 - Ahru (age 5) is sent to live briefly with Idene Fortemont in Limsa Lominsa. A friend of Ahnia, Idene was an astrologian of Ishgard branded a heretic. She claimed to foresee an end to the Dragonsong War heralded by an outsider. When Idene sees no remedy to Ahru's aetheric instability, a change of plan is considered.
1565 - Ahru (age 6) departs Limsa Lomina with Louisoix (another old friend of Ahnia's) and is taken in as a ward of the Leveilleur household.
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I love the idea of Louisoix, who was all about averting cataclysmic prophecies, having an inkling as to Ahru's future role in all of it. Him, Ahnia, and Idene all comparing notes about an assortment of auguries and there's Ahru, sitting in the middle of the overlapping points.
The dilemma concerning prophesied heroes is that if one informs them of their prophesied heroics, they are almost invariably crushed by the burden, seek to flee from it, or succumb to vanity. The weight of that destiny is great enough. We may see to prepare her for it, give her all the tools and knowledge she will need to succeed, but to place such a burden on her would not be wise. Too unsure of her role to play, it would be folly to do so.
^ A sentiment shared, that I think was also relayed to Urianger. 🤔
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✧ Her favorite fields of study include: Warfare/Combat, (and their histories), the Void!!!, and then also world history and cultures.
✧ Finally, a timeline where she gets to pursue her favorite interest. 😌
✧ She trains under both Archon Adeia and her wife Lucinda. The former is a reclusive, socially avoidant scholar of the void, while Lucinda is an ex-adventurer adept at all manner of armed combat. You can see why she really likes them. While Adeia is more difficult, Lucinda openly teaches Ahru all that she knows, and they took more than a few field trips to teach her how to survive in the wild.
✧ Still possesses her insatiable wanderlust, but for once (in the multiverse) her insatiable curiosity and particular interests were being appealed to so she could kind of ignore it. Raised on stories of Lucinda's adventures and inspired by Louisoix, she always figured she'd leave eventually, though.
✧ Utterly refuses to eat Archon Loaf, as an act of sheer defiance she studied culinary arts and even occasionally helped at the Last Stand in the last couple of years before departing Sharlayan with the twins.
✧ Didn't exactly 'cure' her aetheric deficiencies, but with the help of her mentors she did find certain work around's. Namely, a peculiar tome granted to her by Archon Adeia...
✧ Details pending, but it may actually be from her mother, passed along to Adeia to give to Ahru. I never really got rid of his connection to Ahru, but I'm toying with the resurrection of some Very Old plots relating to the Hiraeth and Diabolos. And possibly Arshadaya.
✧ Her carbuncle, Spero, does not sparkle very much, and the sparkles he does give off are darker in color. May or may not be some manner of voidsent. Appears to be a ruby gemstone but... it may or may not be from the Void. But regardless he is very loyal and protective of his master. Dislikes pretty much everyone else. Tolerates the twins. (The name was suggested by Alphinaud.)
✧ As of the beginning, arcanima/summoning isn't really her preferred mode of combat whatsoever. It's almost purely a branch of her Void research.
✧ Aughh, spitballing a bit here but very much considering her tome actually belonged to Naoise, the companion and lover of Ahru's thirteenth shard, Syrus (Diabolos's memoriate). His style of combat was a mix of sch/smn/whm, and she might be tapping into a similar style of summoning as they used (hahaha... danger).
✧ She has her own interests and reasons for wanting to leave Sharlayan of course, no few of which overlap with the twins', but initially she kind of styles herself as their capable bodyguard. This is what she's trained for after all - traveling and adventure!
✧ I'm debating unique names for them, but her sword and shield (fae sword and shield) are gifts from Ameliance before they leave. 😌
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bridenore · 1 year ago
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HD Being on the run fic recs
Here are a few Harry/Draco recs where Harry and Draco are on the run. Listed in alphabetical order, as always.
9 ½ Days by @magpiefngrl [69k]
After the events at the Manor, Harry and Draco find themselves stranded in the countryside with a broken wand and Death Eaters on their tail. This is the story of an uneasy truce, featuring faerie forests, seaside caves, Romani camps, kind old ladies, and a shared bed in an attic. Or how two boys fell in love in the midst of a bloody coup.
Crown Witness by @slytherco [70k]
After the war, wizarding society is oppressed by a new kind of plague—an organised crime group calling itself the Family. When Harry Potter goes to interrogate a potential witness, he doesn’t expect to end up on the run again, trying to keep Draco Malfoy alive, while a manhunt follows in their footsteps, adamant on eliminating the one witness that could ruin everything. In which Harry and Draco learn that the way to each other might just have to go through the dingiest hotels in Britain.
A Design For Life by @maesterchill [76k]
Harry Potter doesn’t want to become an Auror. And Draco Malfoy would quite like to stay alive and out of harm’s way. Neither have any desire whatsoever to time-travel into the future, especially not with each other. But fate? Well, she has other plans.
Eclipse by Mijan [287k]
"You're dead, Potter... I'm going to make you pay..." Draco swore his revenge on Harry for Lucius's imprisonment, and Harry all but laughed at him. But Draco is planning more than schoolyard pranks this time. The old rivalry turns deadly when Draco abducts Harry for Voldemort. It's the perfect plan, guaranteeing revenge, power, and prestige, all in one blow. But when Draco's world turns upside down, the fight to save himself and Harry begins, and the battle will take them both through hell and back. If they come back.
Hermione Granger's Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run by @waspabi [93k]
'You're a wizard, Harry' is easier to hear from a half-giant when you're eleven, rather than from some kids on a tube platform when you're seventeen and late for work.
Oh, Sinnerman by @lou-isfake and @babooshkart [40k]
“I’m serious, Potter,” Malfoy said quietly. “That was some real bad luck you had, being there last night. They will come after you, and they will kill you—after torturing you for information on my whereabouts.” He pocketed Harry’s wand, but held on to his knife, twirling it between his fingers. Harry was distracted by its movement, the reflections of the bright, dawning sun on polished silver. “I’m not happy about it, either, but you’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future.”   He watched Malfoy’s face for a long time, in a staring contest he wasn’t sure he’d signed up for. Stuck with Malfoy, for the foreseeable future, on the run from a massive crime syndicate that had infiltrated the Ministry and was out for their blood. It was all very familiar, except for the Malfoy part.
REVOLVEVLOVER by @firethesound and @lol-zeitgeistic [88k]
The work Harry does is justifiable. It’s justice. He works for his country, and his country is a republic—the magical side, anyway. It’s not laudable work, it’s not work he’s proud of, but it’s necessary work. Harry has always taken the necessary jobs that no one else has the stomach for. It’s just that he’s never deciphered a kill sheet and seen Draco Malfoy’s name on it.
A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena [128k]
When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Harry. Hiding out with Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be.
Time and Again by @lauren3210 [28k]
Draco has an important research assignment, and he needs Auror   protection. Harry’s a little concerned, not only because he can’t even   pronounce the places Draco’s dragging him off to, but because there’s   the slightest chance he might do something stupid, like tell Draco all about that little crush he’s been harbouring for a while now…
Will Do So Gently by @shewhomustnotbenamed [138k]
Following a coup organised by Voldemort, England’s society collapses. Initial attempts by the government to regain power are thwarted by Death Eaters, and a rebellion group called ‘The Order’ forms to fight against them. The country divides, people flee, and those left are trying their best to survive. Draco Malfoy, raised since birth to believe in Voldemort, grows wiser with age and abandons his home after he realises the terror Voldemort intends to inflict on the world. Afraid of what The Order might do to a marked Death Eater, he goes into hiding where he remains for years until Harry Potter finds him and sparks his long-lost will to fight. Their paths separate, and Draco goes out to join The Order or die trying, not realising that his Death Eater status will be the least of his concerns when he arrives. Based loosely off of The Last Of Us (minus zombies)
I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!
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yallmakemyassitch · 1 year ago
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Scratch Task
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Summary: Tabi had gotten sick of Agoti slick and slimy ways of sneakily tickling him, so it was about time he retained some comeuppance and taught the poor boy a lesson~! ^⁠_⁠^
Word count: 5133
Character count: 29277
Tobi talks: Well hello again to all you lovely fellas, I'm here with something special for you lot! As you know, I'm on hiatus due to school and personal life stuff and that won't change for the foreseeable future. I had this cute idea to redraw one of Sensey's art pieces as I think the position they're in and how Tabi is pinning Agoti is downright hilarious and downright devious! But I wouldn't be doing it any justice without writing something about it, after all, you just gotta appreciate her creativity (⁠●⁠♡⁠∀⁠♡⁠)
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55564837
Enjoy the story, gooday you lovely people and have a great day y’all! 🩷(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡
“T-Tabi! C-c’mon man, I’m serious!” Agoti shrieked, his feet propelling him as fast as they could away from his pursuing friend, who was quickly gaining on him. Tabi lunged at him again, but the digidevil managed to dodge just in the nick of time. He stumbled and fell hard onto the ground, giving his friend an extra jumpstart in the chase.
“Agoti! Get back here!” The goat-man yelled after him, quickly getting up and running after him, a fresh dose of adrenaline pumping in his veins. The digidevil’s heart raced and his thundering footsteps quickened.
Fear was an understatement to what he was feeling, with his teeth gritted and eyebrows knitted into a panicked visage, one would think he had encountered death himself.
He might as well have anyway. Agoti had pushed Tabi too far and as a consequence, turned the Russian man into an unstoppable force of nature. No matter how much or how far he ran, Tabi was always right around the corner.
In this moment of reflection, the digidevil realized he couldn’t hear Tabi’s footsteps anymore and slowed down before eventually stopping. His labored lungs were on fire and burned with every breath he tried to reclaim.
Agoti grasped his knees and hunched over, feeling his forehead drip with sweat onto the pavement. Agoti swallowed a spitball. “Oh god…” He gasped. How long had he been running? 10, maybe 15 minutes of just sprinting? He signed and stood up straight, stretching his back and his arms.
He didn’t feel safe in the area they were in, Tabi was known to be an excellent ambusher, so it would be best if he moved somewhere he couldn’t find him.
Just as he was going to head off, he heard a strange sound. The digidevil turned back around, now even more nervous, and just as he was about to whip around to run away, he heard Tabi’s dreaded voice coming from right behind him.
“Found you,” Tabi whispered in his ear.
Then his world flipped upside down, feeling a swift and strong force sweep his ankles from underneath him. Agoti couldn’t even comprehend what had happened until he landed hard on his chest. Panic soon set in when he felt someone heavy sit on his back and grab his wrist.
“Tabi! Please no!” The demon shrieked with terror, realizing the extent of his situation. “Too late for excuses, Agoti.” The Russian man hummed calmly above him.
Agoti was fast and agile, but Tabi was stronger and heavier than him, so pinning the digidevil was an easy feat. Tabi twisted his dominant arm behind his back and pinned it on the center of his back with the firm grip of his hand and pushed all his weight into the grip.
As expected, Agoti began to thrash and squirm, attempting to forcefully dismount the man off his back. A horrifying revelation came when he realized Tabi was sitting rather close to his rear, which made the prospect of slithering his tail out to defend himself impossible.
The Russian man watched as the digidevil fruitlessly kicked his legs and waved around his other arm, hell, his kicks would land on his back sometimes, but Tabi was stocky enough to handle it.
The digidevil tuckered out, realizing that his method of escape wasn’t working, and relaxed his muscles.
“Are you done?” The invisible man asked with an arch of his eyebrow.
“Y-yeah…” Agoti grumbled begrudgingly.
“Good, now then…” Tabi, with his free hand, pinched his friend’s right side. “Let's talk.”
The demon flinched and quietly squeaked. Oh god. Oh god no.
Tabi couldn’t see his face at his angle but could tell the digidevil was very nervous. He couldn’t help but grin and chuckle to himself. “Oh Agoti, Agoti…” He shook his head.
Agoti tensed when he felt his bony finger slowly trace up and down his side. “I have to ask you something,” Tabi exclaimed, his voice now much more casual and amused than before.
“Y-yeah?” God damn, he almost giggled a bit.
Tabi leaned over to where his bony snout would be right next to his ear. “Are you ticklish?” This time, his tone was dripping with mischief. His index finger began to quickly wiggle into his side, traveling up and down the sensitive area.
Tabi watched Agoti’s reaction carefully, his lower jaw appearing to complete his already menacing expression.
“N-noho…” Agoti hissed through clenched teeth, contradicted by a wild, silly smile beginning to spread across his lips.
The Russian huffed. “Well that’s good, otherwise what I’m about to do would really suck.”
“Huh- wait, ta-TAHahaHAhABI!” Agoti squealed. He resumed his squirming, his side’s nerves stimulated and sending all kinds of ticklish shocks up his torso. The hand that was previously tweaking his side was energetically digging into the tender flesh.
“Hmph. Liar.” Tabi quietly huffed, beginning to knead into the flesh with his fingertips, causing Agoti to attempt to twist his free arm around to grab his wrist, but the awkward angle he was pinned at made it difficult.
Tabi easily brushed him off and continued with the torture. “PLEHEHEASE, I- I caHAHAN’T!”
“Oh, yes you can. We haven’t even made it to your worst spot yet.” The entire sentence he just uttered not only sent chills down his spine but he managed to switch his tone from casual and dismissive to downright despicable.
The digidevil screamed when he felt Tabi’s hand begin to jump around his torso. The goat-man knew the digidevil was ticklish as hell, so putting him in stitches wasn’t difficult. Agoti thrashed from left to right, feeling his hand grab his hip, digging his four fingers into the front while the thumb made devious circles in the back, leaving him cackling like a madman.
This only increased when the Russian’s fingers burrowed into the sweet spot between his side and tummy, which got a hearty wheeze out of Agoti.
“Heh.” He heard Tabi chuckle, his golden eyes sparkling with amusement. He quickly crawled up his side and drilled his bony fingers into the very crevice of his underarm.
“N-NOHO!” Agoti cried, his arm shooting down to cover the sensitive spot. He foolishly trapped his hand but was glad to feel the hand leave once Tabi realized tickling wasn’t possible with his arm that tight against his side.
“Hm. Suit yourself then, I’ll just have to go to the other one.” Tabi exclaimed, oddly calm.
Tabi then began to pull up Agoti’s pinned arm, keeping it in its bent position, but steadily exposing his other armpit. “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” Agoti yelled, nervous giggles tumbling out of him at record speed. He resisted, pulling down as much he could as a counter to Tabi’s tugging.
He just grinned and in one swift motion, pulled the arm at the desired 45-degree angle. Agoti’s stomach dropped, seems the Russian man was holding out on the poor boy. Man, he really had to hit the weights after this.
The digidevil’s train of thought was interrupted when a single finger began to circle slowly around his pit. Agoti hid his face in the floor again, there was a large, stupid grin on his face that he couldn’t bear to expose to the rest of the world.
“Tickle, tickle, Agoti…” Tabi’s voice cooed lowly above him, making sure to purr out each syllable in the most taunting tone he could muster. This wasn’t difficult, his Russian accent left a lot of room for letters to roll off his tongue with delicious deviousness.
He still couldn’t see his face but could see Agoti was red, the blush even managing to spill onto the side of his head.
“N-noHohoHo Tahahabi, that’s sohOho meheheAn…” The demon whined, his tendrils curling with embarassment.
“Oh trust me, I can get a lot meaner~” The invisible man laughed. Then the tracing began to ascend, keeping its gentle touch until his fingers were dancing along his bicep. Agoti groaned, giggles flowing freely out of him, he knew what Tabi was getting at.
“This familiar, Agoti?” Tabi asked with an amused snort, digging into his bicep with fervor. The demon squealed, and now his giggles were much louder, mixed in with hiccups and snorts, he sounded ridiculous. The sensation was annoying, a touch he couldn’t get away from, and Tabi made sure he felt the same pain Agoti put him through.
That being instead of his underarms, the rapper had trapped his friend underneath him and tormented his knees until he screamed uncle. Tabi looked back on it with a grimace, but with the same man at his mercy, he felt a sense of relief taking out his pent-up frustration on the bastard.
“Fuhuhuck, okay! I’m s-SOohoHhorRy!” He cried, his free arm lightly slamming the floor several times. He never knew his arms were so sensitive but he guessed Tabi learned a thing or two before finally initiating his revenge.
“No excuses~” Tabi purred, lightly digging just right above where his armpit would be. Agoti cried out and knocked his forehead on the floor a few times, the sensations were going to make him go mad. “UHuHaAHAHA!” He kept this up for a while, giving his friend much-needed treatment after all the bullshit he put him through.
Well, it reached the finale and it was about time he’d given him what he was anticipating.
“Oh Agoti, I’m going to get your little armpit~” The Russian cooed, his index finger starting to slowly travel down his elbow, then his bicep, and then the little spot that would make his friend sing to the rooftops. Agoti about screamed when he announced himself and began to struggle again. “Tahahahabi seheheriously, I’m sorry! I- AHA!” Agoti whined again, squawking when he felt fingers tweak his neck.
“I don’t believe you.” The Russian man posed his hand into a claw shape right above his right underarm and kept it there. The digidevil was laughing and squirming wildly, the laughter bubbling out of him like a faucet was akin to a hyena. Tabi snorted, as much as a punishment this was, he had to admit, his digidevil friend had a cute laugh.
He snapped himself out of his trance when he realized Agoti had lied still, in wait for his friend to put him in stitches.
And that he did. Tabi touched down and scribbled furiously into the underarm. His reaction was an understatement when described as “explosive”, the man immediately burst out into raucous cackles and squeals that would be the previously mentioned hyena to shame.
Agoti had ticklish armpits, but the spot wasn’t too bad on its own. His friend’s teasing had turned into a giddy ball of nerves, which may or may not have been purposeful. He was losing it, his chest shaking with unrelenting howls of laughter.
“PLEHEHEASE, STOHOHAHAP! MEHEHERCY!” Agoti’s legs were limp on the ground, slightly twitching in contrast to his seizing torso. Tabi made sure to dig deep and as ferociously as possible into the very center, smug as a bug witnessing his friend cry for mercy.
“And why should I? You didn’t give me any mercy when you were tickling me?” His friend couldn’t answer. This continued for a while, sometimes randomly scribbling up his arm to tease the bicep until Tabi heard a wheezy cough come out of Agoti, that’s when he stopped and removed his hand.
Tabi pinned his arm back down to back and it moreover collapsed, as the digidevil was too tired to fight back at this point. Agoti panted, teary-eyed and blushing hard. The invisible man let Agoti rest his throat, after all, the true finale wouldn’t be complete if his victim wasn’t rejuvenated.
“O-oh gahad…” Agoti panted, the ghost of the tickles still lingered on his body. His shoulders rose and fell with each passing second as he gradually regained his breath.
“How was that?” Tabi asked, playfully punching his friend’s shoulder blade.
“Awful,” The rapper said with a roll of his eyes. “Now, can you get off of me? You got your revenge.” Agoti craned his neck to meet Tabi’s gaze but was confused, then horrified to be met with initial nonchalance to the spread of his grin and the speechless shake of his skull.
“Tabi, you’ve got to be shitting me!” Agoti hissed quickly, his tendrils springing into action in a series of coiling and terrified phalanges. “Nope, sorry, Agoti.” Tabi hissed right back, sarcasm oozing from his tone. Agoti was scared but realized something, he had energy! He could finally fight back.
The digidevil swung his other arm around to hopefully grab the man’s wrist and pull it off of him. He rejoiced when he felt the Russian’s grip come loose, which freed his slightly numb, right hand.
Agoi placed both hands on the floor and was going to flip himself over, taking Tabi with him. He gravely miscalculated his move, his repositioned arms exposed his most sensitive spot; his ribcage.
The goat-man acted quickly and with both hands, grabbed the sides of his ribcage and squeezed. Agoti screamed and collapsed, and Tabi took this as an opportunity to put the demon back in position. The demon moaned sadly on the floor he stuffed his face into.
“Sorry but, I’m not done here,” Tabi said, making sure his arm was firmly stuck in place with no place to move. The digidevil didn’t even say anything, seeming to have accepted his fate. That would make the job easier for Tabi, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was done asking questions. The first question was just a coverup for what he was really wondering.
Tabi gently grasped the right side of Agoti’s ribcage, not even grabbing it, just wrapping his hand around the spot, mimicking the curve of his ribs. Since Agoti’s right arm was out of commission, it was the perfect place to begin the real torture.
“This will be my second and final question, so you better listen up!” The Russian declared angrily.
The digidevil said nothing and the man pining him down took it as a sign he was listening.
Tabi sighed deeply. “Agoti, why do you keep tickling me?” All the irritation in his tone vanished, he sounded solemn and quiet. Agoti craned his neck to look at him and their gazes met instantly, as Tabi was already staring deeply into him. His eyebrows were furrowed and his golden eyes were brimming with patience. He wasn’t mad in the slightest.
Agoti’s face fell, now looking quite solemn himself. “Vell?” Tabi said, leaning a bit closer and sounded amused when his accent slipped a bit but still patiently awaiting his response.
His chest fluttered, he knew the answer to his question. Could he tell him? Could he tell Tabi that he thought he wasn’t tickling him out of mischief but because he thought his laughter was not only really cute but handsome? That being this close to him at the moment made his heart beat a mile a minute?
Tickling was his method of ‘flirting’ with Tabi. It was too embarrassing and too early, knowing him, Tabi wasn’t too interested in love after what he’s been through. Agoti could be a selfish asshole at times, but he wanted to savor his feelings when the timing was right. Tabi had taken his heart by storm the moment he had met him and the Russian man was none the wiser.
Oh who was he kidding, Agoti was just too pussy to admit he had fallen for him.
He conjured up the most bullshit answer his panicking mind could formulate. Agoti sighed and began to speak in his ‘sincerest tone’...
“It’s cuz you’re sad all the time.”
“What?” Tabi said quietly.
“Dude you’re seriously a Debbie downer, you’re constantly frowning and my jokes hardly even get to you. I wanna see you have fun, not just mopey and sad.” Agoti mumbled, avoiding the gaze now staring over his head onto him, casting a shadow. Tabi blinked at him and sighed.
“Agoti, Agoti…” Tabi started.
He stiffened when he felt something pinch his ribs. “You’ve always been a terrible liar.” He huffed, half-amused half-dissapointed.
Then the kneading began, Tabi had his hand shaped into a pincer and was thoroughly pinching and kneading in between each rib bone, along with the bone itself, and descended one rib when he figured that one had enough.
Agoti loudly snorted and bit the hell out of his lower lip, scratching at the floor with his sharp claws. He was doing a lot better than he imagined, despite his mind screaming for the sensations to stop.
Tabi realized what he was doing and coughed out a dry laugh, the mischief still left over from earlier allowed him to make such a sound.
Tabi took his hand and kneaded into the entire side of the ribcage instead, making sure his fingertips were vibrating in between the tender gaps of the bones. The Russian could feel the dam collapse immediately as Agoti breathed in…
And nothing came out. He could feel his chest shaking and saw his hand dig and curl deeply into the ground before a loud shriek could be heard. It was louder than what he heard today. Tabi winced, the sound long, shrill, and painful, before quickly descending into a cacophony of hysteria.
The kicking started back up and Agoti was back to his usual ways of thrashing and squirming. His laughter, now much more girlish, almost made Tabi smile a bit, but he kept his lips pursed and serious. “NoHOHOhOHOAHAH- hic NOTHAHOT THAHAT!”
“That’s strike one, Agoti. Do it again or I’ll go to the other side.” Tabi replied calmly, slowing his pace to gentle jabs all over his right side. Agoti was hysterical, twitching and spasming every time Tabi hit a sweet spot, much to his chagrin.
“FUhUhUCK TAHAahABi! Thihihis ihihis sohohoho BAHAHAD!” He squealed at the end when he felt pinching around his upper ribcage, dancing fingertips poking at the sensitive bone.
“I know, that’s why I asked your dad about it,” Tabi replied casually.
Wait what? “H-HuHuhuh?” Agoti giggled profusely before the former musician stopped tormenting his side.
“Yup, I asked your dad if you were ticklish. He spilled, surprisingly.” His face was knitted into a reminiscing expression, which quickly turned into unapologetic mirth as he laughed for a while, seeing from the corner of Agoti’s face that he had turned white before shifting into a deep crimson.
“D-dad told you?!” Agoti asked, exasperated.
“Yep.” Tabi repeated, popping the ‘p’, “I was expecting him to start interrogating me, to be honest, but I guess he likes me now cuz he was pretty upfront with me. A pretty standup guy if I’m being honest.” He shrugged.
.
.
.
“His ribs are his worst spot, especially the ones on the bottom, they get him the worst.” Solazar hummed, readjusting his glasses.
“Ah, I see,” Tabi said, rubbing his bony chin.
“May I ask what for?” The Solarisapien questioned, eyes gentle but burning with skepticism. An improvement from his initial scowling and shooting glares when he first met the young man.
His shoulders shook as he laughed. “Nothing important, Mr. Solazar,”
Solazar could tell he had no nefarious intentions based on his eyes, which brightened with unmistakable playfulness and mischief. He could tell where this was going, he saw that gaze all too often in his boys in their youth.
“Oh alright,” The former warrior sighed, straightening his back.
.
.
.
The digidevil was mortified beyond belief, his father sold him out?! Agoti had no time to react when he felt his pincers move again to latch onto his bony figure and wiggle in every groove possible, but Tabi made sure to avoid the bottom ones, to save the best for last, of course.
“N-nonono- T-TAHAHBI! AHaaAH NOhaHAHAHA!” He resumed his previous moments, this time, much more flustered at the bombshell that just dropped on him and squirmier than before. Even Tabi was a little disheveled at how much he was squirming.
Surely, it couldn’t feel that bad? Then he thought of that one time Agoti blasted his neck with raspberries and mentally kicked himself.
“Now then, let’s try that again. I’ll know when you’re lying, so don’t even try it.” Tabi slowed down his tickling to simply drumming across his ribs, keeping the demon back on his toes, in between cloud 9 and hysteria.
Agoti was back to senseless laughter, what would have normally been hearty giggles were hiccupy cackles. His already ablaze nerves made it hard to calm down after the vicious ribbing he was going through. Tears were nearly about to fall out of his eyes and his face hurt from smiling so much.
“Again, Agoti, why do you keep tickling me?” His serious tone when he asked initially was gone and was swapped for a more, demanding but playful tone. This time, he was scribbling his fingertips not only across his ribs but all over his side. He momentarily danced them across his back, which got some funny squeaks out of him.
The digidevil buried his face in his arm and unleashed a flurry of uncontrollable mirth, stuck in-between giggling when he felt fingers wiggle against his shoulderblades to cackles when Tabi dug his rough fingers into the divots of his ribs and hips.
The Russian man was much more impatient than before as Tabi quickened his kneading into downright drilling. He made sure it didn’t hurt, but he made damn sure Agoti knew this wasn’t as bad as it was going to get. And he couldn’t handle that.
“Well?!” Tabi yelled angrily, causing the digidevil to flinch when he heard his bark above his hysterical cackling.
“OKaHAhAHAY- AHAHA! I’LL TEHEHLL YOU! I’LL TELL!”
“Vell, go on then, I’m getting impatient.” At least he had the grace to tell him. A few seconds later Agoti managed to regain his bearings, still a bit fatigued but not completely losing it anymore.
“It’s because I- EEK!” Agoti squealed when he felt a pinch on his lower ribs. A warning for what was to come.
“Hm?”
“Because I wanted to mess with you, damn!”
His lip twitched.
“Tabi, you know that I like to mess with my friends. You’re one of them, you see how I treat people close to me, man! It’s just my way of affection and if you didn’t like it, well that’s not my fucking proBLEM-! FUCK! GAHAHAHAHAH!”
“No, you’re lying to me again,” Tabi said calmly, his face as cool and collected as he could be.
“NAHAHOHO I’M NOHOHOHOT!” The digidevil retorted, contorting his body in never before positions as his friend dug into his lower ribcage.
“Yes, you are~” He singsonged, chuckling as his fingertips kneaded into his lower rib bones. Agoti screeched when Tabi began to dig and pinch into the very last bones of his ribcage, methodical in his method to keep his friend in a state of hysterical paralysis.
Agoti went limp under him, but his chest still gyrated with cackles and hiccups. His laughter went silent when Tabi focused on the very bottom rib, teasingly circling his thumb in the tender spot until he stopped.
Agoti squeaked when he felt something touch his left side. As promised, Tabi would get him if he caught him slacking. “AH! WAIT! NOHOHO! FUCK FUCK FUHUHUCK!” That side of his body had been entirely vulnerable for the entirety he had been kept stuck under Tabi. His choosing to exploit it now was a despicable decision.
He acted quickly and shot his arm down to protect it. Tabi hadn’t exited this time, rather, it gave him a much better opportunity to knead into the crevices of his ribs. Tabi wiggled to and fro, feeling Agoti absolutely spaz and lose it as he squirm and thrash uncontrollably, his legs now reignited in a fit of kicks.
“Told you what would happen.”
The former musician began to crawl up over the entirety of his left side, up his ribs, and even managed to graze his underarm a little. He smirked as Agoti squeaked, squirmed, and howled without fail. His ribs were just that ticklish and he was going to take advantage of that fact.
This went on for eternity, at least to the digidevil. Even Aldryx was more merciful than him and he was his brother! Agoti hadn’t even realized Tabi had stopped, he was just about to tap out.
“Last chance.” Tabi hummed, looking over to his friend’s face. He looked fucked up, his face was beyond red, now in a maroonish color, eyes teary and wet from the onslaught of tickling. He panted and panted, barely processing his friend's words.
Tabi stayed silent, quietly waiting for Agoti to speak up. He waited much longer than he had before, allowing the digidevil to regain his breath and recover. But when Agoti finally did, he said nothing, nothing at all. Tabi waited another minute longer and shook his head at the revelation that he wouldn’t be getting an answer.
“Awww, well that’s too bad~” The Russian cooed, beginning to slowly tweak his sides again. “What, did you want to be tickled that bad, Goti?” He chuckled when he heard Agoti groan, he hated being called that.
“S-shuhut uhuhup…” He said, exhaustion clearly in his voice.
“Naahh, you deserve it after wasting my time like this.”
“Go fuck yourself.” Agoti bluntly mumbled.
Tabi just chuckled, releasing his arm from his hold, allowing it to flop uselessly on the floor. He didn’t get off his back however, only readjusting his position to side sideways, no longer straddling him and allowing him to plop his feet on the ground.
The seconds ticked by, the two quietly enjoying one another’s presence. It was like this for a while, with Agoti being oddly complicate with being sat on and the Russian not saying a word, however, the silence was broken when he spoke up.
“So am I ever gonna get an answer?”
Agoti said nothing.
Tabi just sighed and went back to staring off into space.
“It’s cuz I like you.” He heard him mumble.
“Mhm…” His nodded his head and went back- wait, what?! What was melancholy turned into alarm, his eyes widened, and he turned his head to look at Agoti. His entire face was hidden by his tendrils, making it impossible to tell what expression he was making.
“Agoti…” Tabi whispered.
“Hehe yeah, it’s dumb. I get it if you don’t feel the same.” Agoti chuckled dryly, void of any amusement. Hell, he sounded a bit nervous. So much for ‘too early’...
The goatman was quiet and the digidevil expected him to get up before spitting out a blunt rejection. What he didn’t expect was the graze of bone grazing his head before brushing away some of his limp tendrils, allowing him to see the side of his face. His cheeks were bright and lips pulled into a tight frown.
“What, that’s it? You only just liked me?”
“Yeah…”
The former musician's chest shook as those deep, rich chuckles rang out of him. Agoti’s heart did a flip when he heard them but didn’t make it known. Tabi cupped the side of his face and turned it, forcing the digidevil to look at him.
His white scleras widened, his golden eyes were soft, and the fondness that glimmered from them was overwhelmingly tender.
“I like you too, Agoti.” He purred softly, maintaining eye contact with the young man, who by this point had completely melted, he could feel the blood pump to his cheeks as the man above him smirked. Damn, he was hot at this angle.
Tabi dismounted Agoti and sat beside his lying body. The digidevil, now able to sit up, did the same. He avoided eye contact like a bitch, he could tell he was staring right at him.
The silence was loud, with the man of his dreams staring at him like he was a million bucks. It gave him the ego boost, but he didn’t expect it so soon and certainly wasn’t ready.
“You want a kiss, big baby?” Tabi teased.
The question made the digidevil freeze and blush even more. He managed to turn to Tabi, who was much closer than he remembered. Agoti didn’t remember him looking this handsome, especially since his snout was a whisper away from his face.
His breath hitched when the goatman grasped his shoulders and pulled him in. It didn’t take long for their lips to touch, although his snout made it a little awkward, Tabi turned his way at such an angle that Agoti was surprised to feel thin yet firm lips touch his own.
Soon they melted into each other’s arms, with Tabi delicately kissing him and the digidevil being unable to think, his stomach exploding into butterflies.
When Tabi pulled away, Agoti collapsed into his chest. Tabi laughed in surprise but kept the man in his arms, playing with his hair as his other arm wrapped around his back.
His fingertips gently scrubbed through his scalp, sending chills down his spine. His tendrils were also ticklish, but of course, he couldn’t tell him that, otherwise, he’d never live it down.
“Oh, Agoti~” He cooed, taking full advantage of his accent. Hearing his name belted out in such a way made Agoti puddy in his bony palms. His chin was tugged upwards by Tabi’s hand and placed his chin directly in the center of his torso, allowing the two to make direct eye contact.
The Russian admired him for a second longer before pressing a small kiss to his forehead. “So cute~ Can I kiss you again?”
As if he could refuse. Agoti lightly nodded and thus the process repeated, the two gently kissing one another, with Tabi blurting out the occasional praise and compliment, somehow always catching the digidevil offguard. In the midst of their makeup session, Tabi had gotten a little mischievous and squeezed the side of Agoti’s ribcage, which made him shriek.
He chuckled evilly, as Agoti began to squirm, collapsing his back into his torso, only allowing Tabi to wrap his arms around his torso and attack his sides that way. He was hysterical, his cheeks now red with how much he was laughing.
“Aw, look at you~” Tabi cooed, pressing a quick kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek. Boyfriend? Yes, boyfriend! He slowed down the tickles to soft wiggling, leaving the man softly tittering.
“B-bahahahbe c-cmohohohon!”
“Nope, that’s what you get for not being honest with me, Goti’!”
“God I fuhuhucking hahahate yohohou!” The digidevil spat, leaning his head against his boyfriend’s chest, uselessly grasping the wrists currently tickling the sides of his ribcage. Tabi just rolled his eyes, knowing that it was far from the truth, and focused on peppering his neck and cheeks with quick kisses, while tweaking his ribs.
What a day to be alive, I suppose.
Fin~
Thanks for reading btw and being so patient with my inactive ass :333 💀
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intothedysphoria · 10 months ago
Text
Ocean Hargrove was kind of a handful even for Steve.
Billy, gorgeous and mysterious single dad, had hired Steve’s skills as a babysitter about two months ago because he worked nights and leaving a six year old alone in a house was morally dubious at best.
Ocean was a character to put it lightly. Her favourite word was fuck, she enjoyed recreationally microwaving crayons and Steve was pretty sure she was some manner of petty thief. Steve was sure looking after her every Wednesday from 8pm until 4am had put new grey hairs on his head.
Seeing her mischievous little grin though, Steve couldn’t help smiling back. They’d dance to Slovenian pop, Steve would reluctantly allow her to paint his nails a sludgy green and they’d both draw pictures of opossums wearing cowboy hats.
Her dad was quietly amused by the antics he missed whilst at work. Not that he’d ever said a word to Steve. No, Billy seemed more like the silent, brooding type with interesting tastes in the bedroom. Not that Steve would ever experience said hypothetical interesting tastes.
There was no way Billy didn’t have a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Or partner. If he was single, he certainly wouldn’t be entertained by Steve. The man who came over to his house with paint in his hair and yogurt on his shirt half the damn time.
Steve tucked any fantasies he might have concerning Billy to the back of his mind and focused on Ocean.
Billy’s shift changed nearing Christmas and suddenly Steve was looking after Ocean from 5pm until 1AM. This brought about a few changes in Steve’s Wednesday routine.
First it meant that Steve was looking after Ocean while she was having her dinner and that brought with it an entirely new set of rules. There were certain foods which weren’t allowed to touch and others which had to be blended and some which weren’t allowed at all. Steve still managed to turn it into a game in the end.
The second and bigger change meant that Steve couldn’t take the early morning train back to his house and instead had to sleep over while Billy was in the house. It was on the couch of course but Billy still brought down blankets and pillows, fussing over Steve being comfortable. He blushed all the way down to his unbuttoned shirt when Steve thanked him.
Steve now saw significantly more of the Hargrove’s domestic life. He was allowed to stay for breakfast, watching Billy create pancakes in the shape of dinosaurs and quietly serve up fried eggs on toast for Steve. It was delicious but Steve suspected he’d think that of anything Billy cooked.
Billy would even text him for non Ocean matters. Usually it was related to Game of Thrones, which Steve hadn’t watched but pretended he did or complaining about work but Steve was just so thrilled he was being addressed.
Billy had also started signing off with kisses which was unprecedented. Maybe it was just a culture thing Steve wasn’t getting? He did know that Billy had a significantly different childhood to him.
The hearts were harder to explain away. Billy did seem like an affectionate guy with the way he interacted with Ocean though, he could just be being friendly.
Then came the thank you flowers on a random Wednesday the moment Steve walked through the door. They were poppies too, Steves favourite. Billy was blushing again. Steve was pretty sure he was too.
Ocean interrupted them by loudly pretending to be sick in the sink. Steve was going to be very sad when she didn’t need a babysitter anymore.
The bombshell that Steve was being replaced was dropped a few weeks later. A snarky, bubblegum popping woman called Heather was going to be taking over Steve’s Wednesday night routine. Her personality was a perfect fit for Ocean.
Steve thanked Billy for everything then in a fit of panic, blocked the number entirely. He didn’t do so well with reminders of his fuck ups.
Most of the foreseeable future seemed to be eating ice cream and possibly begging the Byers to employ him again so he had enough babysitting gigs to keep up with his rent.
Billy knocking on Steve’s door asking him on a fucking date was a part of no future Steve could have predicted. Yet it was the future that was actually happening.
The only response Steve could come out with was “is this a fucking joke”.
It was not a joke. Billy had wanted to do this for months but his ethics meant he refused to make any moves on someone he was employing. Which Steve supposed he could respect.
The date was very nice. The kissing and the sex which happened afterwards was more than very nice.
The best part remained having breakfast afterwards and watching Oceans eyes light up even after she declared they were “fucking gross.”
Steve could handle being fucking gross if it meant staying in the Hargrove’s lives forever.
For @shieldofiron @dragonflylady77 and @robthegoodfellow
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rhonuscorner · 2 months ago
Note
Oooh how about this one for DM Boys. What if the roles were reversed and y/n fell into Sun & Moons care? Say they crashed on their planet or maybe human trafficking alien style.
Oooooo that's a fun one. Let's go with crashed.
This wouldn't have gone unnoticed. Nebuterran military ships constantly patrol the planet's atmosphere, always on the lookout for potential threats as no one who is not nebuterran is allowed to land on the planet's surface without permission from Eclipse.
It wouldn't take long for a patrol to reach the crash site at all and they'll be wary and armed. I'm sure Y/N would be freaking the hell out too but the best thing for them is to keep their heads down and not make themselves look a threat. If they got injured in the crash it would actually help their case.
The nebuterran soldiers will never have seen a human before so they'll defer to the higher ups about what to do and word will quickly get back to Eclipse about Y/N's presence. The soldiers will be instructed to take Y/N prisoner, see to their injuries and transport them back to the Capital Ship for questioning.
It's important to note that, while they are a prisoner, Y/N wouldn't be treated unjustly so long as they don't do anything that would be perceived as aggression or an unwillingness to cooperate. Nebuterrans aren't a violent species and Eclipse is not cruel... but they have every reason to be very suspicious of Y/N and assume they are dangerous in some way.
The problem, how are you gonna question someone you can't understand?
This is where Sun and Moon would come in.
Y/N will be locked up on the Capital Ship but it will be a room, not a cell. They'll have some comfort but they won't be allowed to leave until Eclipse can be sure Y/N is not a threat and has all the information he needs about where Y/N is from and how the crash happened. Just in case it's all an elaborate trap and Y/N is actually secretly a spy or something.
Sun will be the most useful here, tasked with figuring out a proper way to communicate with Y/N, build a translator of sorts that works with human language. Moon will be present during all of the questioning as well as when Sun is sitting with Y/N trying to have a conversation with them. Moon will be there to watch and observe, look for those subtle signs that most others would probably miss that hint at dishonesty, a sign that Y/N might be lying about things or isn't being 100% cooperative.
Sun's friendly and curious demeanor will help a lot to break the ice and once it becomes clear that Y/N really isn't a threat and the crash was a freak accident, Eclipse will eventually let them go and if possible, help them get back to earth... but it's very likely Y/N will be stuck on the nebuterran homeworld for the foreseeable future. And because they won't have a place to stay, nothing to their name... I could see Sun and Moon taking Y/N in - they have a pretty spacious home in the Capital City. Eclipse lives there too but he doesn't spend a lot of time there (coughworkaholic).
... actually this would make for a really fun spin-off lol.
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leycorice · 2 months ago
Text
whispery scales
sylus x zayne // yokai au // 2k words
where zayne, who just uncovered a medical breakthrough, formed a contract with a dragon yokai to save his life.
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rain fell heavily, pooling in dark puddles across the cracked, abandoned alley. neon signs from distant streets flickered through the narrow pathway, casting fleeting shadows as zayne sprinted, clutching his leather bag like a lifeline. his breath came in ragged gasps, heartbeat thundering as he sensed the men closing in behind him. he wasn’t new to threats or chases, but tonight was different—too many of them, all intent on silencing him forever.
at the alley’s dead end, zayne paused, looking up at the looming brick wall, slick with rain. it felt like his grave had already been dug, and he had no options left. slowly, he turned to face his pursuers, feeling the cold realization that he might die here. his jaw clenched; he would take his secrets to the grave rather than betray the countless lives his work could save.
suddenly, a dark red mist began to coil around his feet, as if the shadows themselves were coming to life. the air grew thick, charged and heavy. zayne staggered back, eyes widening, unable to comprehend what was happening. before him, from the swirling mist, a figure materialized—a man, taller than him, his presence ancient and immense.
the figure wore flowing robes, reminiscent of a traditional hanfu, layered in dark tones that seemed to absorb the night around him. his silver hair spilled loosely over his shoulders, long enough to sway with each faint breeze, and his eyes—a smoldering, inhuman red—pierced zayne with a knowing gaze.
the strangers encircling zayne took a step back, their faces twisted in confusion and fear, muttering in disbelief. it was as though they sensed a power beyond mortal reckoning radiating from the man, freezing them in place.
the silver-haired man’s gaze softened into a smirk as he assessed the scene. “looks like you’re in a pinch here, healer.” his voice was low, a dangerous purr that seemed to echo within the walls of the alley. “do you want to live? i can eliminate them for you.”
zayne instinctively tightened his grip on his bag, clutching the papers inside as if they might somehow ward off this impossible apparition. “what...are you?” his voice came out hoarse, straining against his racing heartbeat.
the man’s expression was unreadable, a blend of mild amusement and something darker. “not an answer,” he said, taking a leisurely step closer. “hurry now, before they catch you again.” he strolled in a wide arc around zayne, casually assessing him with those sharp eyes, as though he were weighing zayne’s worth. the mist around them began to dissipate, and zayne’s panic surged anew.
“how?” he managed to ask, his voice a whisper that mingled with the rain.
the silver-haired man’s grin broadened, his expression predatory. “form a contract with me,” he murmured. “bind your soul to mine. for the foreseeable future, you are under my protection. but, you will have something to do in return.”
a contract with a creature from the mist, an impossible, godlike being whose presence alone felt like standing at the edge of a precipice. but he had no time to question or hesitate. he glanced over his shoulder at the approaching men, his options narrowing with each passing second. grimacing, he turned back to the stranger. “fine—now, please help.”
the man’s smirk turned triumphant, as if he’d been waiting for this answer all along. he stepped closer, his gaze glinting with an unnatural light. “to seal the contract and have it sound…” his hand reached up, fingers trailing over zayne’s face in a touch that was both cold and electric. zayne tensed, feeling sharp nails pressing against his skin, and met the man’s gaze.
“you’ll have to give me something of value first,” the spirit continued, as though explaining something mundane. “usually, it’d be fingers, or perhaps your eyes… maybe a limb, or a heart…” he listed each one as though savoring the possibilities, watching zayne’s reaction with a gleam of dark amusement.
zayne stared up, incredulous, too stunned to even speak.
the man’s voice lowered to a murmur. “or, most commonly—a kiss.”
“a… kiss?” zayne spluttered, shock briefly overriding his fear. “you’re joking?”
but the man raised an eyebrow, looking both deadly serious and entertained by zayne’s disbelief. “i don’t think you have much time now, do you?” he pressed. “though we call it a kiss, it’s mostly a formality to exchange… well, let’s say, essence.” his lips curled into a slow grin, enjoying every second of zayne’s hesitation.
zayne clenched his jaw, nerves stretched thin. he didn’t have time for pride or embarrassment. the shadows loomed closer, his life hanging by a thread. cursing under his breath, he grabbed the spirit’s face and pulled him down, their mouths meeting in a brief, desperate clash.
a jolt of energy surged between them, and zayne’s entire body felt as though it were caught in an icy current. his strength drained rapidly, and he gasped against the man’s mouth, feeling as though his very breath were being pulled away.
then he felt something sharper—a sting of pain as fangs pierced his lower lip, drawing blood. he recoiled, stumbling back, eyes wide with shock as he lifted a trembling hand to his mouth, his legs giving out beneath him. he sank to the ground, breaths coming shallow and ragged.
the silver-haired man stood over him, an unmistakable satisfaction on his face as he licked a smear of zayne’s blood from his lips. “binding complete.”
the dark mist around them erupted with a surge of energy, swirling violently, almost sentient. zayne, dazed and breathless, barely managed to look up as the mist shot toward his pursuers, a red haze engulfing them in seconds. horrified cries filled the alley, but zayne could only watch, his vision blurring, his mind and body too exhausted to process the violence unfolding before him.
within moments, the alley was silent again. the mist retreated, revealing nothing but the rain-slicked ground where his assailants had stood, their presence erased as though they’d never been there.
zayne swallowed, heart still racing as he looked up at the silver-haired man. “just what are you?” he rasped.
the man tilted his head, a faint smirk lingering. “i am sylus, a dragon yokai. i’ve been here longer than you can imagine, watching humans come and go, your little wars and passions…” he regarded zayne with a glint of renewed interest. “but you, healer—you might actually be worth my time.”
zayne, feeling the weight of his choices settling in, managed a tired glare. “and what… exactly do you want from me?”
sylus leaned down, his gaze unwavering, and his voice softened, becoming something dangerously intimate. “your life is mine now, and your skills are… intriguing. i suspect you’ll entertain me well.”
that was all zayne remembered last before blacking out.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
zayne blinked against the morning light streaming in through his bedroom window, his entire body feeling as though he’d been hit by a truck. his muscles ached, his head throbbed, and his mouth was dry, like he’d run a marathon and skipped out on sleep all at once.
the memory of the alley crept back into his mind—fleeing from men intent on killing him, the strange mist, and finally… the silver-haired man who’d emerged from nowhere. zayne groaned, pressing his forearm over his eyes, willing it all to dissolve into a fading nightmare.
but as he shifted in bed, a deep, smug voice shattered the silence.
“oh, you’re awake. took you long enough.”
zayne’s eyes shot open, heart seizing as he looked up. there, floating midair above him with an infuriatingly relaxed posture, was sylus. the dragon yokai lounged with his legs crossed, head propped on one hand as he examined zayne with a lazy, faintly amused expression. his silver hair drifted around him like a slow current, catching the morning light in gleaming strands. he wore the same flowing, dark robe, its folds rippling as though affected by a breeze only he could feel.
zayne groaned louder, letting his arm fall to the bed. he closed his eyes again, hoping—no, praying—that if he ignored sylus long enough, maybe he’d disappear.
“nice try, but i’m not going anywhere,” sylus said, clearly relishing zayne’s frustration. with a graceful twist, he descended from the air and landed soundlessly beside the bed, crouching with a grin that revealed sharp fangs. “how’s the body holding up? humans usually feel a little drained after soul-binding.”
zayne sat up slowly, the headache throbbing in time with his pulse. “drained is an understatement,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. “why are you still here?”
sylus chuckled, as though zayne had just asked an adorably naive question. “i told you last night, did i not? we formed a contract. a soul-binding pact is not something you shake off after a good night’s sleep, healer.”
zayne’s fingers froze on his temples, the reality sinking in. “so that wasn’t a dream.”
“nope.” sylus’s red eyes sparkled, equal parts entertained and mischievous. he let his fingers dance idly over zayne’s nightstand, tapping with a casual rhythm as he spoke. “your soul is tied to mine now, which means wherever you go, i go.”
zayne felt his heart drop. he’d expected the yokai to disappear after helping him, to drift back to whatever realm he’d come from. instead, he was faced with the unwelcome reality that he had a centuries-old dragon yokai bound to him, who apparently had no plans of giving him space or privacy.
“fantastic,” zayne muttered, throwing off his blankets with a huff. he stood, wobbling slightly as the soreness flared across his body. the memory of the alley flashed through his mind again, and he instinctively clutched his chest. “what exactly did i agree to?”
sylus watched him with an amused tilt of his head, then rose to his feet, towering a few inches above zayne with his arms folded. “you agreed to bind your soul to mine in exchange for my protection. simple as that.”
“simple?” zayne snapped, exasperated. “there was nothing simple about… that.” he gestured vaguely toward sylus, as if his entire existence was part of the problem.
sylus raised an eyebrow. “you could have declined and let those lovely gentlemen beat you to death in the alley,” he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “but you chose life. i merely granted your wish.”
zayne opened his mouth to argue, then clamped it shut, realizing that sylus wasn’t exactly wrong. still, he had questions. a lot of them. “so now i’m stuck with you forever? or is this one of those ‘until my debt is repaid’ situations?”
“ah,” sylus said, as though savoring the question. he leaned in closer, his gaze a little too intense. “it’s a lifelong arrangement, i’m afraid. however…” his gaze flickered, a glimmer of something unreadable in those red eyes. “if you manage to interest me, perhaps i’ll grant you some… freedom, from time to time.”
“interest you?” zayne asked, crossing his arms. “so now i’m your entertainment?”
sylus shrugged, unconcerned. “consider it a side effect. i’ve existed for centuries, watching humans live and die, rise and fall. frankly, most of you are remarkably dull. but you…” he gestured at zayne, his lips curling into a sly smile. “you’re intriguing. you have fire, purpose. you refuse to give up, even when the odds are against you.”
zayne couldn’t decide if sylus was giving him a compliment or setting him up to be his personal court jester. he scowled, not entirely sure how to respond. “i’m not here to entertain you,” he said stiffly, “i have a life. a career. people who depend on me.”
“oh, i’m aware, healer.” sylus gave him an unreadable look. “your work with hearts, your dedication to saving lives—noble pursuits. but in our contract, your life takes precedence now.” he tilted his head, an eerie calm in his gaze. “so don’t think for a moment that i’ll allow you to take unnecessary risks.”
zayne glared at him, resentment flaring. “are you saying i can’t even live my life on my own terms anymore?”
sylus leaned closer, his smirk widening. “that’s exactly what i’m saying. you’re under my protection now. my… possession, if you will.”
the word possession made zayne’s stomach twist. but he shoved down the discomfort, choosing to stand his ground. “if you think you’re going to control my life, you’ve got another thing coming.”
sylus’s laughter echoed, deep and amused. “oh, i expect nothing less. your defiance is half the reason i agreed to the contract. i’ll even let you try,” he said, amusement lingering in his voice, “though i think you’ll find i’m not so easy to ignore.”
zayne huffed, pushing past him and heading to the bathroom. as he splashed cold water on his face, he glanced up at his reflection. the bite on his lower lip from last night’s pact was still visible, a faint mark tinged with a dull ache. it served as a stark reminder that sylus was not some figment of his imagination.
behind him, sylus appeared in the mirror’s reflection, hovering like a specter over his shoulder. zayne tensed, but sylus only offered a small, devilish grin. “i’d suggest eating something,” he said casually. “you lost quite a bit of energy sealing the pact. if you want to work a full shift without collapsing, you’ll need your strength.”
zayne closed his eyes, teeth gritted. “are you planning to supervise my entire day?”
“supervise?” sylus’s grin widened. “no, no, healer. i prefer the term… accompany.”
with an exasperated sigh, zayne grabbed a towel, muttering under his breath, “this is going to be a nightmare.”
sylus chuckled, his voice a low, dark melody that filled the bathroom. “perhaps,” he said, “but at least it won’t be dull.”
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fluffymary · 5 months ago
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Okay so, work kicked my butt a little harder than I expected, so instead of a massive dump of every single idea I've had for all of this, I'm gonna break it down into multiple little topical ones and share them intermittently over the next couple days. Tonight I'll just hit the big one for now: The AU setting and un-horrifying things in the backstory. (apologies for any additional formatting you may have to do for this; it's been a while since I used this)
- No children were harmed in the making of this AU - In fact, their involvement was pretty minimal overall. No orphans or inhumane experimentation here. - Rather than playing god for profit and science, Playtime Co.'s goal was simply to create bigger, living versions of their most popular toys. Partially out of benign whimsy, partially because they believed this would help them sell way more. - Somehow this actually worked out well, at least on the benign whimsy part. - The various game stations and whatnot were made to help study the toys themselves and ensure that they could move and think properly. - Not wanting a bunch of living toys learning all their social cues from scientists and businessmen, children of those working on the project were brought in to interact with the toys and help them develop social skills. - Overall, things actually went pretty well. Something did eventually come up though that resulted in the project and company as a whole being abandoned. Lack of funding? Scandal in upper management? It's hard to say (until the game is finished and I can comfortably make a concrete answer) but the end result was the same. - Accommodations were made to where the toys could comfortably live in the abandoned factory/facility for the foreseeable future. The only caveat was the absence of social stimulation and interaction for the toys. - Whiiiiiich is where the tickling comes in. Jury's out on who started it, but whichever toy instigated it, it spread like wildfire and just about every sentient toy in the facility wound up becoming enamored by this new way to play with one another. - Different little social groups formed, parts of the facility were repurposed to make them more 'fun', etc. - And some time later, enter our protagonist...who has absolutely NO idea what the toys have been getting up to in the time since they left, nor how delighted they're all gonna be in having a new human playmate.
I'll post more later about things like some of the other miscellaneous toys, ideas for the prototype, and some fun thoughts I've got about how to re-write some of the 'deaths' for the AU (you're gonna like the one I've got in mind for catnap and dogday). For now this has been Tech, signing off~
The king returns from his retirement to cook once more.
If I can add, maybe the whole "Hour of Joy" is nothing but a big tickle war. An ongoing one, see? And the Angel happens to get roped innit.
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