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short-honey-badger · 6 months

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Peppermint Tea 31 - All Blends 2

Holy crap is this chapter a doozy lol. It's quite a bit longer than my other chapters. Lotta stuff happens. So I hope you enjoy!

Warnings! None this time? Sad stuff happens ofc. We are introduced to someone new.

P.s. I was going to use some random son for Big Mom but like. I did a Lil research and I can't help but like Katakuri. 😬 again. I apologize if Big Mom and Kata seem a bit off. I'm trying to keep myself spoiler free for the anime.

Masterlist

Benn runs through the courtyards of Mihawk's castle, dodging swipes from the Humandrals until he hears the sound of striking steel. He turns that way, picking up speed as he goes until he arrives at a small clearing in the dirt. Shanks and Mihawk are both grinning, a joy so easy to see that Benn thinks he may go blind. Usually, he'd stay and watch, but he can still hear your terrified voice pleading for help.

He slides to a stop, and the two men sparing turn and look at him, brows raised.

“Benn? What's going on?” Shanks asks his first mate. Benn wouldn't come get him unless it was important.

“It's, _ Shanks. They found her.”

The temperature of the surrounding area plummets, and all ambient noise disappears. Neither man can believe what they are hearing. They'd both been so sure that no one would be able to find your tiny island tucked away in Paradise, so close to the Calm Belt that most ships would be torn apart by sea kings. How could this have happened?

“What did you say?” Mihawk hisses and his grip on Yoru tightens to the point of pain, his nails digging into the flesh of his palm. He ignores the feeling of hot liquid dripping down his hand.

Shanks isn't faring much better. He looks ashen, pale faced and nervous. He and Benn share a look, one that Mihawk easily catches.

“_ called the transponder snail. She said that the Big Mom pirates had made landfall,” Benn frowns, one hand running through his graying hair.

“She sounded terrified.”

Mihawk is moving before his mind fully registers what's going on. He speeds through the castle, grabbing his coat and bag he'd packed the other day in case you called them. His haki is lashing, sending furniture falling and making the old stone walls of the castle crack and fracture. The ringing of his snail grabs his attention, and Hawkeye grabs it before loping out of the castle and to the bay.

Shanks is right behind him, Benn keeping up with his captain. It is with a silent, shared look with his lover that Mihawk reluctantly steps aboard the Red Force. He isn't fond of being on another's ship, especially one as big as this one, but like hell, would he let the younger man out of his sight.

While Shanks is barking orders, Mihawk takes the time to answer the still ringing snail that he clutches too tightly.

Ca-lick

“Mihawk! Finally! I've been calling forever!”

Perona’s shrill voice is a little comfort, but fear still clutches Dracule by the heart. She is rattling on before he can get a word in.

“You've got to get back to _’s island. She thinks it might be Big Mom and her crew!”

Mihawk feels a vein pop in his brow with his hard he scowls down at the snail.

“I know! Where are you? How quickly can you go back?”

“I'm three days out! So, two and a half if the sea doesn't hate me. What if she's already gone? What if…what if it's worse?”

Mihawk can hear the thickness in Perona’s voice and knows that the ghost girl is probably crying now, having worked herself up in a tizzy. He sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Perona. I need you to calm down, girl. Listen to me when I say that _ will be fine. We can handle anything that's happened, but I need you to do something for me, okay?”

He hears the pinkette sniff over the transponder, but she sounds like she's gotten a hold of herself.

“Okay. What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to go back to her island. Find out if she's still there, but be safe. If you see her jolly roger, then you sail right to us. You've got your log pose, right?”

Perona sniffs again and nods even though her father-figure can't see it, “Yeah.”

“Good. If the island is clear, then investigate carefully.” He stresses the word, “Call me back as soon as you can, got it?”

“Yes, Mihawk. Will she really be okay?”

His heart breaks at the fear that he can hear swimming in his charge’s voice. He licks his lips. He is terrified in all honesty, but he keeps it together for her sake.

“She will be. Be safe, Perona.”

The ghost girl assures the older man that she will be careful and the transmission ends after that. Mihawk pockets the snail and looks around the ship to try and find Shanks.

The redhead is at the helm, still barking orders at his crew. Dracule picks his way past the pirates until he arrives at his lover's side. Shanks glances at him and then looks away, his haki curling tight around himself as if he was trying to hide away from the other man. Mihawk can't help but feel a little hurt.

Shanks is panicking. How could he tell Mihawk that all of this was his fault? That it had been him That had slipped up, his lips loose with drink and his heart heavy with wistful thoughts of his treasure that night so long ago.

The hawk hadn't trusted him with this from the beginning, and it killed him to admit that Mihawk had been right about Shanks after all? All the trust and affection that his lover had given him would go up in flames so quickly that Shanks wouldn't even be given a chance to mourn it. The redhead had little doubt that Mihawk would spirit you away from him as soon as he was able once he found out about his mistake.

The captain keeps himself busy for as long as he is able, but Mihawk is nothing if not patient, and he stays by his side until there are no more orders to be said. Before he can make a getaway, his hawk grabs him by the arm and practically drags him across the deck and into the Captain quarters. Shanks could have wrestled away, but then Mihawk would have been even more suspicious of him.

Shanks is shoved in a chair, and his lover putters around the room, pouring them both a drink before settling down in the seat across from Shanks. He sips delicately, but Shanks' nerves have him knocking back the glass of rum like it's a shot of whiskey. He jumps when Dracule speaks up.

“Perona is three days out from _’s island. She'll call me with news as soon as she gets there and if the island is clear or not.”

Shanks forces himself to nod. He licks his lips and scrubs his hand through his hair, “Good. That's good.”

Mihawk raises a brow at the other man's attitude. The man was acting more like a scared rabbit than the powerful Emperor that Dracule knows him to be. He sets his glass away and stands, crossing the short distance to stand between the redhead’s legs, and sets his hands on those tense shoulders. Mihawk guides him forward to rest his head against his bare chest, and his hands snake up to thread into red hair.

“How are we going to find her, Mihawk?”

The Emperor’s voice sounds shot, broken and beaten, and it breaks his heart listening to it. His grip tightens in Shanks’ hair, and Mihawk sighs softly.

“I don't know. But we'll search every island in Big Mom’s territory if we have to.”

~~~~~ Tomura ~~~~~

Tomura dashes through the streets of the city, a mischievous smirk on his face when he looks behind him and sees his little sister chasing after him. You look furious, but the expression just looks adorable on her chubby baby face. Tomura had snatched her favorite blanket this morning to try and wake up the sleepy head, and the chase had been on since.

Obviously, he wasn't going as fast as he could. Tomura was older than her by almost a decade, after all, and he didn't want his sister to get lost in the crowds of people. Not that the citizens of their Kingdom would let their only princess get lost.

The people laughed and urged her in the way her oldest brother ran, encouraging her to catch up to him. Their king and Queen had always been kind to their subjects, and in turn, they stayed loyal to the royal family.

Tomura slows to a stop, ducking behind a stall selling fruit and waiting for his little sister to dash past him. He springs out and grabs her by the waist, spinning you around in the air. You shriek in laughter, clutching at his wrists as he turns his lower body into dust and flies back the way he came, back to the castle and to where breakfast awaits.

Tomura opens his eyes, squinting when the sun makes them water. He wonders what you look like now. Had you found a way to survive and flourish after he left you behind? Would you even remember him? The thought of you not knowing who he is made his chest tight with fear and his throat clog with emotions he carefully hid from his men. Could you forgive him for leaving you behind, even if it had been the best course of action?

An angry scowl twists his lips, and Delemur lets out a string of quiet curses, mostly centered around a certain red-headed Emperor who had somehow stumbled across the safe house. Damn Red-Haired Shanks.

“Captain! We're going to make landfall soon!” The voice of one of his crew startled Tomura out of the fond memory and his less than savory thoughts. He rubs his face, sighing as he straightens up from where he'd been leaning on the railing.

“How long?” The white-haired man asks and looks at the lieutenant before him.

“Lookout said we're about thirty minutes out, Sir.”

Tomura nods. They would need to be prepared if some of Big Mom’s crew were there. Same with Shanks and his crew.

“Get the men prepared for a skirmish. Big Mom won't be here, but I'd bet she'd send some of her stronger men to get my sister.”

The news of his little sister being the reason behind his sudden disregard of orders had swept through the ship quicker than scurvy. But his marines were loyal, and technically, they were still chasing after pirates, so the higher ups could be too mad at them.

“Yes, Sir!” his lieutenant snapped, and then he was off, getting the other crew members up and running.

Tomura stalked to the front of the ship, and from here, he could see the outline of your island. His mouth twists in a grimace, and he prays that he's gotten here quick enough to beat Big Mom’s crew.

However, the closer he gets, the more his chest grows tight. There is grey smoke rising into the sky on the east side of the island, and even after so long away, Tomura knows that is where the safe house is.

The shore comes into view soon, and Delemur frowns when he sees a small ship docked at the shore, a large cross on the flag. He's seen that before, but he doesn't understand why Dracule Mihawk would have a shit all the way out here. Maybe it'd been stolen?

They drop anchor in the next couple of minutes, and Tomura flies ahead and drops to the sand, taking a look around with a frown. The beach looked awful, the beautiful sands trampled all the way up to where it became grass. Most of the lush forest had been torn down, most likely caused by the larger members of the raid party. He followed the trail up, picking up the pace until he was in an all-out run.

Tomura slides to a stop, sticken at the sight before him. The entire place is a disaster, the cottage a charred husk of what it used to be. The scent of burning wood is thick in the air, and the once lush and full gardens that you had cared for have been overturned and stomped on. He can see the broken remains of a small pen on the side of the building, but there were no animals in sight.

Carefully, he steps forward, bending down to collect a shard of green sea glass that had survived the fire. The Vice-Admiral flips it end over end then pockets it before walking inside the destruction. The living room is full of burned books and clothes, the furniture broken and ashen like the rest of the house. There is a shelf holding on for dear life, an old record player with a stack of melted records resting beside it.

Tomura moves to the kitchen, taking in the shattered glass of the window and the many planters that take up the majority of counter space, each plant dry and brittle or nothing but ash. A wind chime is still intact, and he reaches forward to brush the pads of his fingers across the metal tube, frowning when the beautiful melody fills the air. That kind of sound didn't belong in such destruction.

Onward Tomura goes, learning about his little sister as best he can through the ruins of her home. Your love for music and books could easily be seen, but how could he ever know what they were? What is your favorite song to listen to now, or what you liked to do on long lazy days. Were you all alone? The pen outside suggested his sister had found animals, but where were they?

Your bedroom was in a bit better shape from the rest of the house since the door had been shut before the fire had started. Tomura carefully sits on the ashen bed, green eyes looking at everything he can as quickly as he can see. He wanted to know everything about you. He had missed so much of your life, and the regret of leaving you behind was suffocating.

Would you have been safer in the military? Maybe, but Sengoku would have taken one look at you and your devil fruit and thrown you into training, just like they did with him. Tomura didn't want that for his baby sister. He had wanted you to live a good life, even if it would be a lonely one.

His thoughts are stalled when he catches sight of what hangs in your closet. His green eyes zero in on the long coat with a high collar decorated with intricate designs. Delemur knows that coat. He has seen it on the occasional times he had run into Mihawk.

The two of them had a mutual understanding to not speak about what had happened between them. Tomura didn't like that the older man had helped Big Mom, but being in the Navy gave him a different perspective. Not to mention his own skeletons hidden away in his closet, and in the end, Mihawk had been the reason that Tomura and his sister got out alive. They were even as far as he cared.

But seeing the Warlord’s coat made him pause. The tiny ship in the bay had already been suspicious, but the coat only added to his rising confusion. All the rumors had pointed at Shanks being the one to have found you, so then why in the fuck wasn't he seeing anything that might belong to the Emperor?

The sound of a bleating goat suddenly grabs his attention, and then he picks up the sound of his men shouting. Delemur bolts out of the house and finds Mihawk's pink charge, Perona glaring daggers at his men, specifically Private Nitchell, who points a shaking pistol at the young woman. Three chickens and an ornery looking goat stand behind her.

“What the fuck is going on out here?” He demands, and glares at the private, “Stand down, Nitchell. Does she look like a threat to you?”

The young man shakes his head, a blush high on his cheeks at getting reprimanded, “No, Sir! Sorry, Sir!”

The Vice-Admiral watches Nitchell stow his weapon and back up from where the ghost girl looks ready to tear his head off. Tomura rounds on the pinkette, cockimg a brow at her.

“Perona right? The hell are you doing here?” He demands and crosses his arms over his chest, unimpressed by the glare that she proceeds to aim at him.

“What's it to you?” She spits at him and floats up, crossing her own arms. He spots several ghosts behind her and prepares to turn himself into dust if one flies at him. He'd seen what those things could do. However, his annoyance skyrockets at her answer, and Tomura is hard pressed not to reach out and try to wring her neck.

“I asked you first,” he snarls right back, and feels like he is arguing with a little kid when Perona sticks her tongue out at him.

“I was coming to visit my friend, Navy Man. You should leave before my dad gets here.”

Tomura rolls his eyes and ignores the threat, “Your friend is my little sister. How did you find this place?”

Whatever argument that Perona was hyping herself up for deflated like a popped balloon when she registered what the marine said. She looks him over, dark eyes flickering from head to toe. The more she sees, the less Perona thinks that this man is lying. He looks like you. His cheekbones and brow are a familiar and comforting sight. But what should she tell him? Perona didn't think that Mihawk would be very happy with her if she happened to spill the beans on everything that he's been doing.

Perona licks her lips and floats back down, dismissing her ghosts and setting a hand on top of Neal's head. The goat grunts at her and butts his head into her hand, happy that the only other person he tolerated had found him and the three chickens hidden away in the intact part of the forest.

“Mihawk found this place a few years ago. After a while, he told me about your sister, and I wanted to be her friend. She seemed lonely, and I know what that's like,” Perona begins and shifts her weight with a sniff. She's been here for two days looking for anything that would help them find out where Big Mom’s crew may have taken you. The only luck she had was finding your goat and chickens. Hank and Sukuna were nowhere to be found.

Tomura's hands clenched into fists at the information. Mihawk had known about you for years, and Delemur was just now finding out about it. How were Shanks involved then? To his knowledge, the redhead and the hawk stayed away from one another. Until recently, that is.

Just what the hell had his baby sister gotten up to?

“She called me five days ago and said that some of Big Mom’s crew had found her island. I came as fast as I could, but I was too late. Shanks and Mihawk are on their way here now.”

Tomura doesn't like the thought of such powerful men working together and all for the sake of his little sister. What had you done to catch their attention? Did he even want to know the answer to that?

“How long until they get here?” Tomura asks after a moment. He would wait here until they arrived. At least he wouldn't have to go tracking the pirates down. He had a couple of choice words to give both of them now that he knows that Mihawk has been here as well. That bastard had looked him in the face not four months ago and had said nothing about knowing you.

Perona shrugs at him, her face morphing into a pout, “I don't know. Another week?”

Shanks and his crew were strong enough to go through the Calm Belt if they wanted to, and that would cut their travel time down by a lot. Gloom Island was a two week trip from here by normal means.

Tomura grumbles at having to wait that long, but he isn't that much of an asshole, and so stalks forward and offers Perona his hand.

“I apologize for getting off on the wrong foot with you. My name is Tomura. Thank you for being my sister's friend.”

The ghost girl blinks dumbly up at him before tentatively taking his hand and shaking it.

“Uh. You're welcome?” Perona has never been thanked for being someone's friend before. It was a little weird, but Tomura seemed genuine and kind like you. Just a bit more…violent it seemed.

Tomura blushes and takes his hand away, rubbing them together before pointing at Neal and the chickens, hoping to change the subject.

“Are those _’s?”

Perona nods and introduces Neal and the chickens. She couldn't remember if you had named the fowl, so she had taken it upon herself to name the rooster Henry and the two hens Harriet and Henrietta. The crew of his ship piddled around the island while Perona told Tomura stories about his little sister, and soon, the sun was beginning to set on the little island. He sighs heavily and invites Perona on his ship for dinner. They may as well get to know one another if they were to be stuck on an island together for the next couple of days.

Those days pass in the blink of an eye, and it is late in the evening on the fifth day when the lookout on his ship announces that the Red Force is entering the bay. Tension skyrockets, and Perona stands away from Tomura while they watch the pirate ship navigate to the shore. She can see two people standing at the bow of the ship, and tears of relief sprout in her eyes when she spots Mihawk's wide hat.

~~~~~~

The fear and anxiety that Shanks has felt during the entire trip explodes the moment they spot the navy vessel docked at his treasure's island. Of course, the rumors had reached your brother. Shanks should have known Tomura would be on his way here to see you. He curls his haki close to himself, refusing to let the older man feel just how manic he is right now. He needed to keep his head clear for this.

Next to him, Mihawk's haki lashes like an angry snake, golden eyes wide and full of fire when he sees the ship. He recognizes who it belongs to and cuts his eyes over at Shanks, who won't even look his way. Dracule had been silent about his concerns with just how Big Mom had found out, and he doesn't like the picture that has been painted for him. He doesn't want to accuse anyone of anything until he has all the knowledge he needs.

Mihawk and Shanks flash to the shore, and the warlord gets an armful of sad ghost girl the second his feet touch sand. Perona buries her face in his chest, arms wrapping around his waist and holding the warlord tightly. Tears sprout and run down her cheeks, and Mihawk can do nothing but sigh and hold the young woman close, one hand stroking the back of her pink hair.

Shanks steps up beside him, a kind smile that he forces on his lips as he pats Perona on the back, “It's alright, kid. We're here now.”

Mihawk shoots him a grateful look, and thankfully, Perona decides to pull away, reaching up to wipe her eyes free of smeared makeup.

“It took you two long enough to get here,” She grumbles and takes a step away, turning to look over at the Vice-Admiral, “Tomura has kept me company.”

Dracule looks up and catches the Navy man's eyes, the green dark and full of suppressed rage. He doesn't expect the younger man to bypass him almost immediately, instead, aiming that almost familiar glare at Shanks. The tension deepens, and sand is kicked up by the haki that coils between the three men. Tomura wasn't anywhere near the pirate's power level, but that wasn't about to stop him. The Emperor was the one responsible for his baby sister getting taken.

“Did he, now,” Mihawk murmurs and carefully maneuvers Perona to stand slightly behind him. He didn't want her to get caught in this, and the Warlord could tell that whatever was about to happen wasn't going to be very pretty.

Tomura isn't here to beat around the bush and cuts straight to the case, “Did you have any fucking plans to tell me that you knew my sister, Mihawk? How the hell did you even find her?”

Mihawk keeps his face free of any kind of expression that may give away his true feelings. Brother or not, Mihawk wasn't in the mood to deal with this right now. Not when you were obviously still missing. What he doesn't expect is Tomura rounding on Shanks, his tone dropping and turning dangerous.

“And you, you son a bitch. You're the fucking reason my gods damned baby sister was found.”

The silence that blankets the shore of the island is deafening. Tomura grins meanly when he sees that panic that pools in Shanks’ dark eyes and stands taller, pointing an accusing finger at the redhead. Mihawk follows the gesture, his heart seizing in his chest when he catches sight of the look of devastation that paints his lover's face. He takes two steps back, bringing Perona with him, away from the man who had promised Dracule that he could trust him.

“You promised me, Shanks,” Mihawk remarks and tries to keep the hurt out of his tone, but the younger man easily picks up on it, making him feel worse than scum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. The hurt quickly turns to anger, and the warlord reaches for Yuro, the blade swinging around to point at Shanks.

“You promised me that you would keep your mouth shut! You drunken, lying bastard. I never should have put my trust in you again.”

His ringed eyes blaze with a rage Mihawk hasn't felt in decades. Not since he was young and impressionable. His heart feels shattered, and out of everything, disappointment rings through his body like a live wire. He shouldn't have allowed the redhead to pass his walls.

Shanks’ eyes widen at the threat, and he takes a couple of steps back from the wicked blade. His own hand curls around Gryphon, and Shanks braces for the fight that would no doubt happen because of his mistakes. He didn't want to fight Mihawk, but he would defend himself if the older man made the first move. He quickly began to explain before Dracule could try and take his head from his shoulders.

“I know, and I'm so sorry, Mihawk. I was drunk that night, and I missed the two of you so much. I didn't know I was being so loud until Benn told me to shut it. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

Shanks is pushed back when Mihawk's haki lashes out, his face flushed red from how angry he is at the lame excuse. How dare he.

“When are you not drunk off your ass, Shanks? There is no excuse that you can give me that will make any of this okay. _ is gone! Most likely slated to be married off to one of Charlotte’s sons because of your inability to keep your mouth shut!”

Perona grabbing him by the arm is the only thing that prevents Mihawk from following after Shanks. He glares at her, about to snap at the girl to let him go, when he sees the unshed tears and fear in her dark eyes.

“We need his help finding her, Mihawk,” Perona says, voice thick with emotion. She doesn't like seeing them fight, and it hurts seeing what she has begun to call family fall apart in front of her eyes.

Her words seem to bring everyone back to the situation at hand, and the wild haki from the three men is pulled back and settled. Tomura relaxes his shoulders, shifting his weight and glaring at the two pirates.

“She's right. Big Mom has a lot of territory. It'll take months for us to search each of her islands if we don't work together,” Delemur frowns even as he speaks, disliking the idea of working with the men who'd found his sister. What even were the three of them?

“What is she to you?” Tomura demands and regrets it the second both men look at him like he was an idiot.

“We,” Mihawk begins and then swiftly corrects himself. He didn't want anything to do with Shanks right now, “I love her. She had no idea who I was when I found her, and it was…refreshing to have someone like that. We should move quickly. _ is in a delicate state.”

Tomura doesn't even want to think about what that means and glances at Shanks for the redhead’s answer.

Shanks shifts his weight, his hand falling from his sword once Mihawk had sheathed his own, but he keeps his distance. He gives Tomura a helpless shrug.

“My crew and I drifted close to her island one day, and we got to know one another. I can admit I was jealous of what Mihawk had with her, so we made it work. The three of us.”

Tomura doesn't know what to say to that, so he keeps his mouth glued shut. How the hell had his little sister pulled not one but two of some of the most powerful men on the Grand Line. He would ask once he found her.

“I'll use whatever resources the Navy can give me to find her,” Tomura says after a moment of rather awkward silence. He reaches into his pocket and takes out two mini transponder snails, and hands them to Shanks and Mihawk.

“I'll ring you if I find anything. I hope the two of you do the same.”

Mihawk dips his head in agreement, handing the snail to Perona and Shanks pockets his. They would work together to find you, even if none of them wanted to.

“I'm going to take a look around and see if we can't find something that'll lead us in the right direction,” Shanks says and whistles loudly to signal to his crew that it was fine to disembark from the ship now. He chances a glance at Mihawk, but the dark-haired man refuses to look his way. He frowns, guilt eating him up from the inside out before he lopes away without a word.

“Perona and I will head to the New World and begin our search,” Mihawk says and then he struts to the ship Perona had taken from his island, not bothering to look back at the Vice-Admiral. He can't bring himself to search the island. Dracule had seen the smoke curling into the sky, and seeing whatever remained of his home away from home would only make the hurt worse.

Tomura is left standing alone on the white sands, and he sighs heavily, looking out over the crashing waves. He smooths his white hair away from his forehead, and he murmurs to himself.

“Where the hell did they take you, Princess.”

~~~~~~

Thousands of miles away, you are escorted past hallways full of mirrors that make you feel dizzy if you look too closely. You cast your eyes back to the floor, one hand tangled in the fur of Hank's shaggy coat and the other holding Sukuna close to your chest. Your pets had chased after the men who had dragged you kicking and screaming from the tiny cave you'd forced yourself into.

Surprisingly, once they had seen that you were pregnant, the men had handled you with much more care and had even allowed you to take the cat and dog with you. Despite not wanting to leave, you had been much more willing once they assured you that you could have them. Hank and Sukuna were the only two things keeping you sane right now.

Sukuna wouldn't stop hissing, a constant low growl echoing in the hallway. His tail was poofed, and he glared at everyone with furious golden eyes. Hank fared no better, his hackles raised, and his ears pulled up. He stayed pressed against his human’s legs as they walked, unwilling to let you out of his sight.

It wasn't long before your group stopped at massive double doors that creaked open. You waltz inside, relieved at the lack of creepy mirrors, but that relief disappears the moment your eyes lay on who hovers in the middle of the room. She is the biggest human you've ever seen, sitting atop a cloud that glares down at you.

Beside her, another massive man stands. He has deep purplish hair, and the bottom half of his face is covered in a black and white scarf. He wears an open vest, and you can see a tattoo running down his exposed chest.

“It's about time you showed up,” Big Mom’s booming voice startles you, and you cut your eyes up to look at her. She grins down at you, her smile wicked as she looks you over.

“Such a pretty young thing. You'll make a nice wife for my son Katakuri. Don't you think so?”

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itsclydebitches · 7 months

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IT'S BEEN A DOOZY OF A DAY, FOLKS

Yeah I've got a couple asks about it lol. (Always a terrifying experience when you log onto tumblr and immediately wonder why your inbox blew up...)

Man, I don't even know how I'm feeling right now. We've spent so many months working on the semi-confident assumption that RWBY would be cancelled that on the one hand I can't feel very shocked about this. On the other hand there's definitely a wide-eyed part of my brain going, "Holy shit the 'RT is failing' theories finally came true O_O" I'm kinda devastated that a company that's been a part of my life for almost a decade (and for other fans far longer) is just up and gone, but simultaneously I don't care because what I loved about RT hasn't existed for some time now. We've already been dealing with that nostlgia for years, we just got a hell of a concentrated dose of it today. There's admittedly some level of vindication regarding those who've been pulling shit in the company for so long and empathy for those who were just getting by and are now suddenly out of a job. There's regret that (despite my tendency to fall VERY behind on projects. RIP I owe everyone in this fandom a massive apology) I'll probably never have an official end to my RWBY Recaps. And there's worry about how this will impact the fandom...

Yeah, not to jump on the pessimism train, but I feel like this is going to catapult some fans' misreadings into new territory. RWBY is now forever the show that was canonically unfinished and thus its perfection is assured. Think there are major issues in Volume 9 and earlier? Nah, that's setup for Volumes we just never got. Catch a contradition or other mistake? They would have explained that if they could. Any possible issues with the show if it gets picked up by someone else? Well, of course there are issues, RT isn't writing it! This was already a fandom where having accurate, nuanced discussions about the text was hard as hell... but it just got so much worse.

Honestly, I say let it go. If they're going to do anything I'd prefer a complete reboot/reworking so that this story might stand a chance. Airing new RWBY Volumes was already beating a dead horse. Resurrecting the horse to start beating it anew just feels ridiculous. Yes, I'm sad for those fans who wanted an official ending, but we've spent so much time waiting on RWBY, being worried about RWBY's future, and I personally have encounted so many shows lately whose finales soured my enjoyment that there's something reassuring in the combination of definitive ambuguity here: you know you're not getting an ending by RT, so just have fun imagining your own.

Overall, I feel like I've got to sit with this for a while, you know? I totally get why so many fans (partiuclarly RWDE fans) are celebrating and/or releasing a sigh of relief right now. I'm honestly surprised I haven't seen any crabs yet lol. But maybe it's just because I'm "old" my tumblr's standards, but there's something undeniably sad about losing that part of your fandom life. Or at least, losing what led to/represents that life. Getting introduced to RWBY by a friend, binging it for the first time, pulling new people in, finding like-minded friends here on tumblr, analyzing it for thousands of words, tracing its history and watching how radically it has changed... that's gone now. Not actually because RWBY still exists, as do my friends, and there's nothing stopping me from writing as much fic/meta as I want, but it still feels like someone closed a door on that part of my life. That's not wholly a bad thing given what RT has been lately, but I do think it'll take more than one post for me to unpack it all.

#RWDE #RWBY #mymetas

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starcrossedxwriter · 1 year

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Built for Love Part 10 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

Warnings: Depictions of violence, trauma, lots of angst, recovery

A/N: ok this one is a longgggg doozy… gonna apologize in advance cause it is really just all angst lol BUT I'm hoping there's a treat in here that'll make y'all hate me less? lol maybe?? Enjoyyyyy!

It took everything in Charlotte physically and emotionally to drag herself to the theater the next day for opening night. She was physically exhausted, only sleeping in increments of 30 minutes or so before her own screams jolted her awake. Mentally, she was hanging on by a fraying thread. She had not felt this jumpy in so long, every unexpected noise causing her to look over her shoulder every five seconds, even in the comforts of her own home. But nothing was worse than the physical pain she was in. The bruise on her side was far worse without the adrenaline of the night before pumping through her veins. The cry of pain she let out when she first moved that morning sounded more like a dying animal than a person.

The entire drive she dreaded the facade she’d have to wear all day. She did not know how she did this years ago, mustering up her last kernel of strength to plaster a stupid fake smile on her face. Perhaps because back then, it was a means of survival and this situation was caused by her own hubris. She wanted to fight, she wanted to do this her way, but this path was lonely and more difficult than she thought. And reality was sinking in fast that she was, perhaps, not strong enough to deal with him alone this time.

She did not regret staying, that was the right decision. But she just wished Michael was here. She wanted him here, not to do anything, but just to fold her up in his soft embrace. He was the epitome of safety and she severely underestimated how alone she would feel without him here, even just for a few days. She was balancing on a tightrope and the bungee cord that secured her was nowhere to be found. She already made one wrong move, she could not let herself think what risk another one would bring her.

Here he is, about to ruin another special moment for you, she thought to herself as her driver weaved in and out of traffic to get her to the theater.

He doesn’t have to, another voice spoke up louder.

She thought back to their argument in the hallway the night before. Until she found herself on the floor beneath him, she had been proud of herself. The old her would have never said a fraction of those things to him. But she had squared her shoulders, looked him in the eye, and pushed back. Sure, she could not physically win a fight against him. But last night proved the psychological power he held over was indeed gone. And despite the emotional distress and pain she was in, that small act felt like a win in and of itself.

That small win was all the strength she needed to push through. Today was her moment, something she’d worked for for years. He could not take this away from her, the bruise he gave her could not take this away from her… not if she didn’t let him.

“You look like hell. You good?” Malcolm remarked as she dragged her feet past his dressing room.

She glanced back at him and gave him a smile that was more like a pained grimace. “Remember what you told me about fighting? Well, I got knocked down… trying to pick myself back up again.”

He raised his coffee cup as if to salute her. “That’s all you can do.”

As the day went on and she did interviews with the camera crew recording footage of opening night and they did a final rehearsal of one or two of the numbers, she did find her exhaustion and pain slowly dissipate. She knew it was all in her head, she was still very much both exhausted and in pain, but she just found the strength to ignore it. The stage was her home, her domain, and she felt at her strongest here. It was the flicker of light that she could always cling to when everything else felt dark. And so she held onto it, seized it with every fiber of her being and allowed that to give her whatever she needed to get through the day.

There was no other option, no other bungee cords to fall back on. It was just her and she had to pull herself, hold herself up, and shine bright even as she wanted to fall. Besides, she had not done all this, the secrets and lying, to let him psych her out so close to game time. She could fall apart when the show was over, but until then, her own strength was all she had. And that’s what she held on to as the day passed and showtime drew closer.

By the time she slid on her dress, she felt more like herself than she had in the last two weeks. She was ready a bit early so she slipped out and snuck to the stage. As everyone hustled around her to prepare for showtime, she watched through a slip in the curtains. The audience was almost full already. Her eyes followed the front row, recognizing some folks like Malcolm’s wife, Vanessa. She did a double take when she saw who sat next to her.

“Michael,” his name came out as a breathless sigh of relief. She did not know whether to cry tears of joy or have a panic attack. On the one hand, she could already see her web of secrets untangling right before her eyes. Even if they made it through the night without Michael and Shaun’s paths crossing, the moment they got home, there would be no hiding the angry black and blue bruise that covered her side. And she knew Michael was too smart to believe any lie she could come up with to explain it away.

However, as she looked at him, her fear of his reaction did not outweigh the joy and relief she felt at seeing him. He came back to see her, to be there for her on the biggest night of her career to date. And even if all her secrets fell apart, she could not feel anything other than gratitude and love for him for sacrificing his plans for her. Every day, he chose her and made her feel loved, supported, and safe. He did not need to say a word to her and his very presence made her stronger. Knowing he was nearby made her feel lighter and more at ease. She was no longer alone and felt as if someone attached more bungee cords to her to steady her.

She returned to her dressing room and pulled out her phone. She walked around her room, texting him.

Els: Funny… I don’t remember LA looking quite like where I work? 🤔

She did not have to wait long for the response bubble to emerge and her phone to ding.

Bakari: How’d you spot me? It was supposed to be a surprise for the end of the show ☹️

Els: I have eyes and ears everywhere 😉 seriously, though something happen in LA? Not that I’m not happy to see you but why’d you come back early?

Bakari: Something told me I was needed here more. Was I right?

She nodded as if he could see her. He knew her far too well. She did not even bother lying this time.

Els: Yea you were. Thank you ♥️♥️

“Maybe I’ll go introduce myself,” a voice whispered behind her, Charlotte’s heart sinking. “I always liked him, great actor.”

She should have known he would not let the day go by without finding some way to torture her. And she knew him stopping by minutes before show time was not a coincidence. But she refused to let him throw her off her game like he did at rehearsal.

“Hit me again and I’ll scream bloody murder,” she threatened as she turned around. She could tell he did not believe her but she knew it was effective. This was just as much his job as it was hers. He would not risk someone seeing him hurt her.

He merely sneered at her and shook his head, raising his hands in surrender. “Nope, just came to wish you luck. And say I’m a bit surprised to see you. It must be hard to dance with that?” He gestured toward her side.

“I’ve performed through a lot worse, remember?” She reminded him through gritted teeth. “This was always the one thing you couldn’t take.”

She studied him for a moment as he sucked his teeth in annoyance. She could tell he seemed a bit disappointed and frustrated by that fact, by the knowledge that she was not in bed nursing her side, crying over what he had done. Instead, she was here with a smile on her face, ready to do her job.

She had always felt like he had taken everything from her, broken her and reduced her to nothing. But this very moment was proof that he hadn’t. Every time she got up and performed with bruises or broken bones or any other injury, she silently told him that this was the one thing he could never have, the one thing she would never yield to him. That she would fight through all the pain to make it onto that stage night after night, to savor the few minutes every day where she could be the version of herself he tried to destroy. This was that flicker of light and he had always tried to stomp it out. Her brain was immediately filled with recollections of all their worst fights, all of which coincided with important shows or huge moments in her career. And every time, Charlotte never faltered, she never fell down, she never broke. She just bandaged herself up and kept moving. Not even the threat of him looming had driven her away this time.

“You know, I’ve been trying to figure out why you did all this. You want your plaything back, want that control again, sure. But this,” she gestured around them. “Is a fucking insane way to get to me. But now I know why, because this was the one thing you could never take. You took everything from me for years, reduced me to nothing but a shell of a person. N-No light, n-no personality… no agency. Nothing. B-But when I went to work a-and got on stage, even if it was for only two hours a night, I became something again. Was reminded that I was more than the nothing you made me believe I was. And you hated that. This is the last piece. You take this, you destroy my career, and I’d really have nothing.”

“I already did,” he took a menacing step toward her. Charlotte did not move though, forcing her body to stay rooted like a tree. She did not know where this sudden insurgence of strength came from but she welcomed it. For the first time, she had the upper hand. And she was going to use it. “I already took it once. You don’t think I can do it again? You were nothing back then and you still aren’t. A pretty face, a famous nigga on your arm, a nice voice… None of it changes what both of us know. I’m the only one who can love you like you deserve. I’m the only one who knows the truth about you.”

And for the first time that he told her that, she thought about all the ways in which Michael and her family proved to her daily that his words were not true. And though she still did not know if she truly deserved someone as perfect as Michael, she knew she deserved so much better than him.

She sighed, taking a step forward to close the space between them.

“I lived in absolute terror of you for years. My entire world was dictated by the look on your face. Three years ago, I would’ve believed every word you just said. In some lights, I’m still terrified of you,” she admitted, taking a deep breath. “Last night proved that. But since I left you, I built myself back up brick by brick. I met someone,” she smiled. “Who holds me up when I can’t, someone who rushed back here to protect me when he didn’t even know what I needed protecting from, someone whose very being and presence reminds me every minute of every day that I am something and I deserve so much more than the scraps you gave me. And in that light, you are far less terrifying.”

He let out a low chuckle, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward him. His grip was tight and painful but she still did not waver. “You keep forgetting what I’m fuckin’ capable of, Charlotte. Maybe I need to close the door and remind you?”

The prospect terrified her but she knew his hands were tied. It was just intimidation and she would not fall for it again.

“The thing is… I haven’t. You’ve shown me the worst you have to offer time and time again and I’ve survived every time. And it’s true. If you want to hurt me, there’s nothing I can do to stop you. I know I’m only alive because of God and luck. I can’t win in a fight with you. So take your best shot. But you know what else is true? I’ll still never choose you. No amount of fear or intimidation or pain will make me choose you. It’s him. For the rest of my life, it’ll always be him. And no matter what happens to me, you’ll have to live the rest of your miserable life knowing that.”

She used all of her force to rip her arm out of his grip, her skin stinging, as she grabbed the sweater that went with her costume and slid it on her arms as she spoke.

“You are right about one other thing though. I don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve this light or the love he gives me. And maybe,” she offered sadly, “Maybe one day, he’ll realize that too and leave me. And maybe I’ll never find anyone to love me like he does ever again. But even then, I’d spend the rest of my days alone before I spend another moment of it with you. So I hope all of this time and energy was worth it. Because I’m done… I’m done giving you a return on this investment. You can’t take this and you can’t take my joy, my body, my relationship, my peace, or anything else from me again. Your time controlling my life is over.” The lights around them started to flash, signaling that everyone needed to get in their places. She took a deep breath and offered him a smile. “That’s my cue. Enjoy the show. I’ve got a good feeling about it.”

She smiled before walking around him and walking out the door. She could feel his rage wafting off of him but that did not stop her. As soon as she rounded the corner, she leaned against the wall, her heart pounding. She let out a breath she had not even realized she was holding in, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She messaged her arm, another bruise she would have to explain away. But that one had been worth it. To say those things and finally say her piece… the only thing better would’ve been to punch him in the face but she refused to resort to violence as he did.

“Fuck, that was terrifying,” she mumbled to herself. “But you did it, you did it. Another win for today. Deep breaths,” she instructed herself, her entire body relaxing as she took several calming breaths. “Now let’s go get another one.”

She steadied herself for a few more minutes before getting in her spot just as the announcer came on to start the show.

***

She was in the middle of changing when Michael finally made his way backstage to her dressing room. Her after party dress was just passing her hips when she heard her door open.

She did not even give him a chance to speak, she barely held in the tears that immediately welled up in her eyes as she saw him. She just immediately rushed into his arms, her lips slamming into his. The breath of relief she let escape was muffled as she kissed him. She buried her face in the space between his shoulder and neck as he held her, forcing herself not to flinch as his arm rubbed against her side when he pulled her in for a tight hug. Her breath was shaky as she breathed him in, grateful to be in his arms again.

“I-It’s so good to see you,” she whispered. “I m-missed you so much.”

His hand cradled her head into his neck, surprised at her intense reaction. He was concerned when he arrived but the tremble in her voice and body, the way she sagged into him, only increased his concern tenfold. He could tell she was trying to hide whatever it was that was wrong, hold it back. But he could feel it, feel everything that simmered beneath the facade of a performer.

“You were amazing.” His other hand rubbed her back. “But what’s going on, love?” He leaned back to force her to lift her head and look at him. His thumb wiped one of the stray tears from her cheeks, kissing the path it trekked. He did not see a point in prolonging the question. He knew it was a special night but she needed help. What kind? He had no idea. But the version of her that stood in front of him was not her, at least, not a healthy version of her. “You’re not ok.”

Charlotte sniffled. She could not keep this in any longer. This was just not sustainable. That had been the problem the first time with Shaun, she had dealt with it utterly and completely alone. And here she was, falling back into that same pattern of isolation. No one in her corner, no one to support her or help her. And she could not survive that way. If she was going to stay here, she needed someone’s help. Even if all they did was help pick her up when he mentally knocked her down. And she had robbed Michael of the opportunity to do that, and she knew there would be anger for that. But more importantly, she had tied her one hand behind her back by doing so. She had robbed herself of safety and comfort and it showed in the hell-ish experience of the last two weeks. She had asked Michael to move with her because she needed him. Now, it was time to call that support in.

“No… I’m not. But now that you’re here, I will be.” She pressed her lips to his cheek. “I need to tell you something though… about-”

The last part of her sentence was drowned out by Chris sticking his head in her door. She had not realized that Michael left her dressing room door open and glanced up to find Chris, Malcolm, and a couple other company members standing outside her door.

“Everyone’s heading over to the lounge. You two ready?”

“Umm… actually I think we’re gonna head home?”

“Home??” His tone was so filled with offense, you would have thought Charlotte quit the show. “Absolutelyyyyyyy not! The star of the night can’t miss the after party. Trust me, the sex’ll be 10 times better after a few drinks.” Chris, inappropriately so, automatically assuming they just wanted to go home to fuck. “Come on!”

She sagged deeper into Michael and rolled her eyes. She glanced at him, a silent conversation passing between them. She knew they weren’t going to take no for an answer, everyone was on too much of a high from the night. Her eyes searched for his approval to which he gave her a small nod.

“Fineeeeee, we’ll come but just for a bit,” she acquiesced, Michael’s arm not leaving her waist.

“Alrighty. You better. I have at least two cocktails with your name on it!” The man disappeared, everyone starting to head over to the party.

“You sure you’re ok with going?”

He nodded. “Yea, tonight is still your night and you should enjoy it. As long as you’re up for it. We have plenty of time to talk.”

She squeezed his hand before following him out to their car. She had no interest in staying at the party too long. She found it hard to relax at first, her eyes constantly darting around the party to see if Shaun was there. But as she and Michael had those two drinks promised by Chris (and then some additional ones), she still did not see Shaun anywhere and loosened up.

Despite the looming difficult conversation she knew she would have to have with him when they got him, she still managed to have fun. The night moved faster than she expected as she and Michael danced with Malcolm and his wife. Unlike the stuffy cocktail event from the night before, this was a true party, an opportunity to let their hair down and celebrate.

Charlotte escaped the dance floor to grab another drink, leaving Michael chatting with some of the other actors and their partners.

A hand touched her arm unexpectedly, Charlotte flinching and a groan escaping her before she could stop herself. She clenched her fist in pain. However, when she turned and realized it was Michael, her heart sank.

Fuck.

“You’re hurt?” His hand gently grabbed her arm and lifted it up to examine under the dim lights of the bar. She braced herself, his eyes flashing with rage.

“Who did that to you?” he demanded as he took in the light but distinct bruise disrupting her otherwise flawless skin. He had never seen a bruise or mark on her before.

“U-Um… no one. I m-must’ve hit it or something,” she lied. She could not even stop herself, it was as thoughtless and second nature as breathing or walking and talking to lie about an injury. She also knew this was not the venue to tell him what really happened. She wanted to tell him everything in the privacy of their own home.

“You’re lying,” he said immediately, his anger only rising. “Nothing you could’ve done would cause that. Who. Did. That. To. You? Tell me right now, Charlotte.” His voice was low but she heard it. There was no room to lie or hide the truth from him now. He would not accept it.

“I p-promise I w-will tell you. B-but can y-you just wait till we get home? I d-don’t want to talk about it here. Please,” she begged.

He studied her, his hand going to her neck to hold her gaze to him. “But you’re ok right now? Whoever did it isn’t here?” he glanced around as if he could spot the person in the moment.

“N-No, no. I promise. They aren’t here. It’s just a l-long story a-and I'd rather tell you at home. T-that’s all, I promise.”

He kissed her temple, nodding. “Ok, ok. I’ll call the car.”

“Thank you. I j-just need to run to the bathroom. 5 minutes?” She could tell he did not want to let her out of his sight but she offered him a reassuring nod. “I promise I’m ok. Just five minutes. I’ll be right back.”

He nodded and kissed her on the cheek, watching as she left.

Charlotte had to take a couple turns to find the bathroom, finding it empty when she entered. She tossed her clutch and phone on the couch before going into one of the stalls. She took a few deep breaths, already strategizing how she would explain the last two days to Michael. She was almost thankful the tower was crumbling, it was too hard to hold up anyway. But she wasn’t ready for the fall out, not fully anyway. But she knew once she told him, the weight would be off her shoulders and she could breathe easy for a moment. And she welcomed that. She knew honesty after secrets and lies came with a storm but there was always calm after, eventually.

As she finished up and readjusted her clothing, she heard the door open. However, she did not think much about it until she stepped out to find Shaun standing in the bathroom.

“W-what are you d-doing in here?” She asked, taking in his staggering posture and eyes. They were red, glazed over with rage. She was not even sure when he arrived at the party. She had not seen him once since she left him in her dressing room.

“You know I tried. I fuckin’ tried so hard to be reasonable…” he remarked as he reached back to the bathroom door and locked it behind him.

Charlotte let out a shaky breath, all of that confidence from earlier vanished in an instant. No escape and no upper hand this time and she knew, when push came to shove, he would always overpower her. She wondered if anyone would even be able to hear her scream over the loud music. She knew Michael would come looking for her in a few minutes if she did not return or some woman would likely try to come use the bathroom. However, she also knew Shaun did not need long.

“But then… you parade that nigga around in my fuckin’ face?!” He slammed his hand against one of the stall doors, the force causing it to bang against the wall loudly. Charlotte nearly jumped half way out of her skin, taking another step back from him. “‘It’ll always be him,’ he mimicked her speech from earlier. “It’s me… Or it’s no one, Charlie.” His steps were measured and menacing, despite the alcohol that clearly seeped out of every pore of his being, a predator who had finally cornered its prey and was tired of the games. There was nowhere to run or go as Charlotte found herself cornered by the wall. “You choose.”

Charlotte knew what she should say, lie to get herself out of the situation alive. And if he had asked something else of her, perhaps she would have said anything to appease him. However, she could not force herself to do it, not this time and not about this. She knew in her heart and soul that Michael was it for her. And she would never deny that, no matter the consequences.

Her heart pounded out of her chest but she forced the words out, “I-It’s… it’s still him, Shaun. M-My h-heart is his, my soul is his. A-and I c-can’t give you what you want. Not anymore. If it’s not him, t-then it’s n-no one.”

He let out a few deep breaths of shock and staggered back from her for a moment as if she had slapped him. She imagined he did not expect her to answer truthfully but she could not deny Michael. She would never.

Charlotte started to peel herself off the wall, hoping this was her moment to leave and escape. However, she only made it a step before she felt a sharp sting across her cheek, the force of his slap sending her body crashing into the sink in the bathroom. She grunted as her stomach hit the hard edge of the counter and knocked the wind out of her. She used one hand to brace herself to stop from falling to the ground. The other immediately touched her cheek, pulling her hand back to find blood where his ring had cut into her skin.

“S-Shaun, p-please d-don’t… do this…”

He scoffed and shrugged, his face resigned as if she had given him no choice. “I told you. Me or no one.” He slapped her again, harder, her body falling to the ground as her head hit the cold tiles of the floor. Her vision immediately grew blurry as he appeared over her. Her arms and legs flailed violently as she tried to fight back.

She could feel every blow, his fists aiming for any part of her body he could reach. Her face, her chest, her stomach. All she could do was scream for help as she futilely tried to fight him off of her.

His hands wrapped around her neck, squeezing. Charlotte’s eyes grew wide as she realized his intentions, her fingers clawing at his skin with all her might to force him to break his grip. However, it was no use. He had strangled her before, which was scary but she always knew he would stop. This, however, was totally different. This time she knew he had no intention of stopping until he felt the life drain from her body. She could see it in his eyes, it was over for her.

The edges of her vision started to blur. The last thing she remembered was the feeling of his weight and hands being ripped off her before everything went black and her last thread to the conscious world snapped.

***

Michael took a last sip of his drink as Charlotte walked away from him to the bathroom. Michael sighed as he did a scan of the party, his eyes following on a man in a disheveled suit who appeared at the entrance. Michael stared at him for a moment, something about him gave him pause but he could not place why. He watched as the man did a scan of the room before heading to the hallway that led to the bathrooms. He figured he was merely on edge as the sight of Charlotte’s arm came back into his mind. His hands clenched into a fist.

Another puzzle piece, another thing that did not make sense. Someone had clearly hurt her but he did not understand how or when or who would do that. He had only been gone for two days. Shaun did pop up in his head but he dismissed that quickly. When would the man even have shown up without Michael knowing? Michael was pretty much with her anytime she was not at the theater since they moved.

He continued to people watch for a few minutes, his eyes glancing in the direction of the bathroom every few seconds as he waited. His phone dinged with a message from Rob letting him know he was waiting downstairs. Michael glanced at his watch, realizing more than five minutes had passed since Charlotte went to the bathroom. He searched the crowd for her. He happened to run into Malcolm and his wife during his search.

“Aye,” Michael grabbed their attention. “Have you seen Charlotte?”

“Nope, not since she went to get a drink. Why?”

“Y-Yea. She said she was going to the bathroom but it’s been a minute. And she didn’t answer her phone. Figured she maybe passed by me or thought I was gonna meet her outside or something.”

“I was about to head to the bathroom before we headed out too. I’ll walk with you. I’m sure she’s fine.”

Malcolm and Michael walked the maze of hallways to the bathrooms, Michael stopping as they turned the last corner and another sound filled his ears, battling against the thundering bass of the music from the party.

“You hear that?”

“Yea. Sounds like someone screaming?”

Michael rushed up to the ladies’ bathroom door, getting close enough to hear the screams behind it. He only needed to hear one to recognize the voice. Charlotte. It was as if someone had replaced the blood in his veins with ice water. That sound would haunt him for the rest of his days, he was sure of it.

He immediately went to open the door, finding it locked. However, he did not give that a second thought as he told Malcolm to call the police and ram his entire body into the door. It took two tries before it yielded to his force and weight.

Michael did not need an introduction or explanation as he took in the scene in front of him. He had never seen a picture of Shaun in his life but instinctively, he knew who he was. Charlotte’s brief descriptions of him, her actions for the last two weeks, her nightmares, her injury, all those puzzle pieces seemed to fit instantly and paint quite a clear picture.

Michael immediately grabbed the man by his collar, dragging him off his girlfriend. He got a quick glimpse of Charlotte’s bloodied and bruised form, her eyes half closed, as he pulled the man away from her. He threw him down to the floor and kicked him in the chest, a satisfying crack filling the quiet bathroom. And he did not stop at one.

Shaun barely had time to think or defend himself as Michael channeled a year’s worth of boxing training into beating the life out of him. This man who had terrorized the love of his life for years, this man who had been the source of so much strife and pain in her life, this man who had been the reason for the rage filling Michael’s body. All he saw was Charlotte’s broken body and he lost all sense of himself.

He was thankful the loud music of the party drowned out Shaun’s screams. Every punch he rained down on him felt cathartic. Every scream and yell felt like music to his ears. Though he typically believed violence could be avoided, in this case, his soul needed this more than anything. This was the only answer. Michael had never felt the desire to feel someone’s life leave their body but he felt it in that moment, strongly, fervently. And he knew, if it came to that, he would not feel an ounce of guilt about it. This man did not deserve to be among the living, not with all he had done.

He thought about every time Charlotte screamed or whimpered in her sleep; every time her big brown eyes filled with terror and panic as something triggered her; every time she thought of herself as broken, unworthy, and unlovable - these things that were the farthest from the truth but he made her believe; every scar littering her perfect form that she looked at with disgust. He thought about it all and every time his fist connected with Shaun’s skin, he felt a bit of that rage he had bottled up since he learned about Shaun release. It felt good to finally do something with it. No longer did he have to punch the punching bag in his gym pretending it was this man’s face. The object of his rage was right there and he did his worst.

Michael only stopped when a force pulled his arm back, his savage beating cut short by Malcolm.

“It’s over, it’s over.” He whispered, holding Michael’s raised arm back. “I think Shaun understands your point. The police are coming. Charlotte needs an ambulance, now.”

Michael stopped, his hand still holding Shaun up by his collar, and glanced at Charlotte who was unconscious and propped up against the bathroom wall. He almost wanted to throw up at the blood that smudged the floor by her body.

“She’s alive,” Malcolm assured him as he took in the look on Michael’s face, Michael knew it must have looked lethal. “She hit her head but she’s alright. But she needs you right now and you can’t be there if you get arrested for killing him.”

He nodded and pulled his arm out of Malcolm’s grip. He stood and pulled the man to his feet. He was not even recognizable now, covered in blood. Michael could tell his nose was broken, a few teeth had been knocked out, and he was not even sure if the man could still see with both of eyes nearly swollen shut. And despite this damage and the pleasure he felt administering it, it still - somehow - did not feel like enough. The man was still conscious and still breathing and that did not feel fair.

“I’m only gonna tell you this fuckin’ once.” Michael’s voice was low and lethal, he did not even know his voice could sound so terrifying. He did not know who this person was, this dangerous version of him he’d never needed to pull out before. “Stay. The Fuck. Away. From. Her. If I ever see you again or you ever lay a finger on her again, I swear on everything I love, I will fuckin’ kill you. I’ll make what just happened look like a scratch. And I’ll end your pathetic life. We clear?” At his silence, Michael scoffed before throwing two back to back jabs into Shaun’s ribs, the sound of more bones cracking filling the air along with a pathetic, girlish scream. “I said, are we fuckin’ clear??”

“W-we’re c…c-clear,” Shaun forced out, the words barely audible as Michael’s arm pinned him to the wall by his neck, crushing his windpipe, was the only thing keeping him from doubling over in pain.

“Good.”

Michael removed his arm, the man unceremoniously crumpling to the ground with a groan. He could not help it but he kicked the man once last time for good measure as he shook out his hand and flexed his fingers. His knuckles were caked with blood and ached but it did not matter as he rushed over to Charlotte.

He pulled her body into his arms, propping her up against his legs. His breaths were shallow and rushed as he pressed his fingers against her neck. He knew Malcolm said she was alive but it was as if he needed to prove it to himself, assure himself. He let out a strangled sigh at the pulse he felt pumping against his fingers, strong and distinct.

She’s ok, she’s ok. Just knocked out.

“I’m here, baby. I’m here. I gotchu. You’re safe, you’re safe.” he whispered as two EMTs rushed into the bathroom. Michael did not notice the small crowd that followed them, Malcolm going over to Chris who was standing at the front, his face the picture of shock and confusion.

Michael felt as if he was just going through the motions as he rode with Charlotte in the ambulance. He merely just repeated that same refrain over and over again, holding her hand as the EMTs worked around him. They assured him none of her injuries were life threatening or severe. She took a beating but she’d be fine once they treated the head injury.

They forced him to wait in the waiting room while they rushed her to the hospital, Michael calling all of her family and his to tell them what was going on. He knew this would likely make it onto the news somewhere and did not want anyone to find out about it. Her father, who lived in Baltimore, and oldest brother, who lived in DC, promised to drive up first thing in the morning, Lauren, Jackson, and Jazz were planning to be on the first flight out of LA, and her eldest sister would be on a flight from Atlanta.

He cycled through pacing and texting her family until a nurse came to get him. He was thankful, the two hours he waited seemed to move by in slow motion.

Michael absentmindedly scratched the nape of his neck as he rushed behind the polite nurse, his ears barely registering her preppy and annoying voice. Her words were nonsensical until he saw Charlotte. He barely registered them once he realized she had little information to offer him. He knew nothing she could have said would satisfy him anyway until he saw her for himself, saw the warmth in her skin, felt the blood pumping through her veins, saw her injuries without blood caked in them, making them look far worse to his eye. He had not seen her in hours and he did not want second hand accounts that she was ok, he wanted to see her for himself.

The cycle of torture he had been on for the last few hours finally ended in front of her closed door. He took a deep breath and sent up a silent prayer before walking into the room to find Charlotte, his sweet honey bee alive and conscious. He studied the steady rise and fall of her chest, the way her hand fidgeted with the fraying edge of her blanket. He let out a strangled breath he did not realize he was holding in. He felt as if he was breathing for the first time in hours, a weight lifted off of his heart and body. The room was completely silent aside from the beeping of machines surrounding her, her eyes trained on the glittering lights of the skyline out of her window.

He examined the injuries he could see: the bandage on her forehead, the bruises already blooming on her face and neck. He imagined more had to litter the rest of her body, the areas hidden beneath blankets and a hospital gown.

“H-Honeybee…” his voice came out as a strangled whisper, his pain and fear flowing from his words like blood from an open wound. Her eyes clenched shut as she heard his voice, and heard the emotions laced throughout it.

At her silence, his hand wrapped around hers as he sat in the chair by her bed. He did not bother stopping the tears that slowly trekked down his face as he gently stroked her forehead.

“Baby…”

“I-I’m ok… r-really, Bakari,” she croaked out, her voice sounding small and broken. She avoided his eyes but he could see the clouds of guilt, shame, and embarrassment that filled hers. He knew she likely hated that he saw her like this. But it did not matter to him. He was just happy she was alright. “I-I’m o-ok.”

“No, you aren’t. Els... baby. Look at me, please," he whispered, noting the small shake of her head as she bit her lip. He could hear her silent pleas to not push. However, he needed to see her, truly see her.

“Charlotte.” His rare use of her full name did the trick, the young woman turning her head toward him.

Her eyes still did not fully meet his, but he decided it was a start. His thumb stroked her cheek, her eyes fluttering closed at the soothing gesture. Her head lulled to the side and rested in his palm. He did not say a word, he just offered her what he could tell she needed. His presence and his gentle touch that always soothed the troubled waters of her soul. However, so much of her face was bruised that it did not take long for him to graze a tender spot and cause her to wince.

“I-I a-a-m so-so sorr-sorry…” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I f-…” she started to hyperventilate, her hand going to her chest as she felt the shooting pain of her sharp breaths radiating against her fractured ribs. “I-I t-tried to fight… I-I s-should’ve t-told…”

Her words became incoherent as she tried to talk through a panic attack. Michael immediately moved to the edge of the bed, hoping he could calm her down.

“Hey… hey, shhh… baby, take a deep breath for me. It’s ok, Els. You ain’t got nothing to apologize for, I promise.”

His voice was low and soothing as he tried to get her to calm down. He took a few deep breaths, encouraging her to mimic the action to slow her own breathing. “There we go… That’s good, baby. Relax, it’s ok. You’re with me and you’re safe now.”

He watched her eyes fall down to his hands, which a nurse cleaned up and bandaged for him. She sniffed.

“You saved me?” She asked quietly.

“Yea… I c-came for you.”

She wiped the tears from her eyes, refusing to let them fall. She winced slightly as she hit a bruised area. “You always do. Thank you.”

“Always,” he whispered, his hand wiping his own tears that started to fall. He knew he could be vulnerable but part of him battled to be stronger, despite how upset and scared he was. Right now she needed to be the vulnerable one, which meant he had to be the rock.

“I-I s-suppose y-you wanna know w-what happened?” she asked quietly, knowing he likely still did not know how they ended up in this situation in the first place.

“Yea but… that conversation can wait till we get home. All that matters right now is that you’re ok.”

She did not argue with him on that point. Charlotte’s head pounded as she laid in the bed, Michael sitting quietly next to her. Neither of them said much, she just closed her eyes and focused on his touch, his hands, strong and comforting against her skin. But cautious, she could feel that caution with every caress and stroke. She thought she had lost this forever, that she would never feel the heat of his loving touch on her skin again.

A knock at the door tore their moment of solitude away from them, both of their eyes moving to find two men in dark suits standing in the doorway. They flashed their badges identifying themselves as NYPD. The back of Charlotte’s hand hastily whisked away her tears before forcing herself up into a seated position. She forced a smile on her face but she knew with the cuts and bruises, it likely did not look like one.

“Good evening. We are sorry to interrupt. I am Detective Simpson and this is Detective Zidan. Ms. Bennett, we are so sorry for the ordeal you have suffered tonight. The doctors told us you were conscious. Would you be up for talking about what happened?”

She nodded, gesturing for the two men to come farther in. “Y-You can just call me Charlotte. And yea… Um… we were at the Purple Cat lounge, c-celebrating the opening night of our broadway s-show.”

“The Lighthouse?” Detective Simpson interjected. “My wife’s a big Broadway fan… we saw it last week in previews,” he clarified. “You were phenomenal.”

“T-thank you,” she whispered. However, even that compliment could not lift her spirits right now. “Umm, we had a few drinks… two or three I guess? But I w-was tired a-and M-Michael realized I was injured so w-we decided to go home. I went to the bathroom a-and when I came out of the stall, Shaun was there. H-he locked the bathroom door and knocked me down… hit me. A-and then he started choking me.”

“Did he try anything else?” His words were vague but Charlotte and Michael understood the implication. She felt Michael stiffen beside her.

“No, no. He didn’t do anything like that.”

“And what is your relationship with Shaun Parker, the assailant?”

“We dated for about three years a few years ago? He was abusive. I-I had a restraining order against him when I lived here back then. F-filed a police report a couple times then dropped them.”

“That’s great, very helpful thank you. That’ll establish a history of violence, pattern of behavior. How’d he know about the show? Have you had contact with him since you broke up? Any idea how he might’ve gotten access to the event you all were at?”

Charlotte clenched her eyes shut. And here goes that wrecking ball, she thought to herself. She prepared her mind and heart for the inferno of rage Michael was about to experience, this time directed at her.

“H-He showed up at o-our last rehearsal b-before previews two weeks ago. H-he’s a-and investment banker or manager and w-was working with one of the producers.”

Michael’s head whipped around in her direction, shocked that her answer was not a simple no.

“What the fuck?? He’s been around for two weeks??” He approached the bed, his brow furrowed and his heart rate increasing as his frustration skyrocketed. He was seething.

Charlotte’s hands twisted in her lap as she felt his anger waft toward her.

“I… I-It was fine at first, he didn’t really say anything o-or bother me. But l-last night, one of the investors hosted a cocktail event for us a-and he approached me… and punched me,” her voice got really small as she said that part, Michael stepping away as his rage grew to unprecedented levels. “A-and then today b-before the show, he c-came by my d-dressing room to taunt me. A-and grabbed my arm, l-left a bruise. I t-told him that I’d n-never be with him a-again.”

Michael ran his hand over his face. “Why didn’t you tell me??”

“I didn’t want you to worry!”

He threw his hands up in the air, his exasperation obvious to everyone in the room. “I don’t believe this shit,” he muttered under his breath before turning back to her. “You’re in a fuckin hospital bed, Charlotte. There was clearly a reason to worry! A-and you let me go all the way to fuckin’ LA where I couldn’t do shit to help you??”

“Michael, I-I’m s-sorry, I j-”

“Charlotte, Mr. Jordan, please,” the detective interjected. “Let’s all just calm down for a second. We don’t want to take up too much of either of your time. We know this is difficult to hear and a lot to process. Mr. Jordan, can you tell us what happened when you arrived in the bathroom?”

Michael turned away from Charlotte. His mind was on information overload, his anger pulled him in 30 different directions. But he knew the detectives were right, now was not the time. And putting this man behind bars was more important than his anger.

“It had been a few minutes and she didn’t come back, I went to the bathroom and heard her screaming. I forced the door open a-and saw him choking her. I-I pulled him off a-” Michael stopped speaking, the anger of that moment flooding back.

“Yea we saw Mr. Parker’s injuries. We can piece together the rest. Well, that’s all we need for now. Your accounts align with Malcolm Roberts’, the witness, and the scene so we are good for the evening. We’ll leave you two to get some rest.” He fished his business card out of his wallet and handed it to Michael. “If you think of anything else once you’ve gotten some rest, give us a call.”

Michael stopped the men. “And what about me?” While Michael did what he did to protect Charlotte, and did not regret it, he knew his beating of Shaun would be considered overkill by anyone with eyes.

The detective shrugged. “From my assessment of Mr. Parker’s injuries, you used necessary force to subdue him. And that’s what I plan to write in our report.”

At the raised eyebrow Michael gave him, the other detective merely winked at him. “I’m a husband… If I’d walked in on what you did… let’s just say he’s lucky he got off the floor at all. Even if he wants to press charges, given the circumstances and well, your status, the DA will likely decline to move forward and we would back that up. We aren’t here to ream you up, Mr. Jordan. You will have to pay for the damages to the door at the club but that’s it.”

Michael felt relief wash over him.

“We’ll be in touch,” the detective said before turning to leave. However, he turned back and said, “Loved you both in Creed. Take care of yourselves.”

Michael pocketed the man’s card and watched as they left before turning his attention back to Charlotte.

They sat in silence for a while, Michael’s hand rubbing her arm to comfort her. She could still feel it, his anger, but he controlled it, kept it to himself. They were both two powder kegs ready to explode. Both of them were using materials as flimsy as scotch tape to hold back the avalanche of emotions that threatened to consume them.

It took a few more hours of poking and prodding before the doctors told her she could go home. She was thankful, just wanting to sleep in her own bed in Michael’s… if he was not too angry at her to deny her that.

She pushed herself out of bed, Michael handing her the clothes Malcolm had picked up and brought over for them. She started to lift the nightgown over her head but groaned lightly at the stretch needed to do so. She let it fall back down over her legs.

“Let me help.”

She bit her lip, fiddling with the gown for a moment as her eyes bounced between him and her body, before shaking her head. “Umm no, no… I got it.”

“Why won’t you let me help you?”

“Because I don’t need it. I got it.”

He scoffed and raised an eyebrow at her. “You really think now is the best time to lie to me again, Charlotte?”

She covered her eyes with her hand for a moment before sighing. “I j-just don’t want you to see t-the bruises… I k-know you’re mad at me. I-I don’t want to m-make it worse. A-and I don’t want them to change h-how you see me… feel about me.”

Michael’s feet came into her line of vision before he lifted her head and kissed her forehead.

"Look at me," he quietly demanded. He rarely demanded but she heard it in his voice, it was not a request she could refuse. His hands held her face, holding her gaze to his once she looked up at him. “There is nothing in this world that’ll ever stop me from wanting you, aight? These bruises are just a reminder that you survived and that’s all that matters to me. And it doesn’t matter how mad I am, I’ll never deny you what you need. And right now, you need help. So let me help you.”

It took another moment or two of coaxing but ultimately, she relented. He kissed her cheek before his hands pulled her gown over her head, the young woman wincing at the stretch in her side. Michael’s eyes trailed up her body, happy to see most of it looked fine. Her upper half though, her chest, her stomach, her neck and her face were covered in bruises that made his hand clench into a fist.

His eyes focused on the bigger one on her side, one that clearly had been there longer than the others.

“That’s where he…” he could not even say the words. At her small nod, he took a step back from her and turned away from her. His breaths were shallow and pained.

“It’s not as bad as it looks… I’ve had worse.”

He shook his head, the scotch tape simply could not hold his rage back any longer. “I can’t believe you kept this from me.”

“M-Michael… I’m s-sorry. I didn’t want to upset you.”

“I’m upset because this,” he gestured at her bruise, “is upsetting. This nigga was terrorizing you, Els. And hurting you while you let me fly across the county to sit in bullshit ass meetings when you knew you needed me here.”

“I thought I had it handled!”

“Oh so what? You’re fuckin’ Olivia Pope or some shit?”

“Not funny, Michael.”

“I aint fuckin’ laughin’ Charlotte. If this was handled, I would not be looking at your body covered in bruises and we wouldn’t be in a hospital. He could’ve killed you. If I hadn’t gotten there when I did, he would have killed you. I mean… what were you thinking??”

“I-I s-should’ve told you,” she admitted. She knew there was no excuse for lying as she had and she would not waste his time trying to come up with one. “I-I just didn’t t-think you’d understand.”

He shook his head, a strangled sigh of frustration escaping him. “Well you’re right. I don’t understand why my girlfriend, the love of my life, the woman I want to marry and build a life with, lied to me and hid something so dangerous and life threatening for weeks. You let me move all the way here to protect you, and when you needed it most, you didn’t trust me to do it. I don’t understand why you didn’t trust me.”

All she heard in his voice was his pain. Beneath his righteous anger, she understood where it stemmed from, a well of hurt and disappointment that she did not trust him with this problem.

“M-Michael,” she approached him. “I t-trust y-you with my life. I-it wasn’t a question or lack o-of trust. I w-wanted to tell you so b-bad. T-that night when you helped t-through that nightmare, when you called me the other night from LA…in my dressing room earlier. I wanted to tell you.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

She sighed, she turned back to the bed and sat down. Her physical body was barely standing, barely holding on.

“I dunno… I t-thought I needed to d-do it alone. It’s a-always been me d-dealing with him… I g-guess it’s just a-all I know. A-and I-I was t-tired of losing… tired o-of him t-taking everything… tired of r-running,” she admitted. “A-and I was afraid, afraid you a-and my family w-wouldn’t understand why I would w-want to stay once I knew he w-was around. A-and I was afraid you’d try to stop me. A-and worst of all, I w-was afraid if you gave me an out, I’d be a coward and take it a-and then he w-would’ve taken something else from me. So I l-lied. I lied and kept it from you b-because I knew it would force me to handle it on m-my own a-and it almost killed me. Literally a-and figuratively. B-Because I did… need you.” She let out a small sob. “I needed you so bad. J-just to be there. A-and I deprived myself o-of that and I deprived you of the chance to help me a-and I am s-so so sorry.”

Michael unfolded his arms as he listened to her. He could hear it, her regret and the sincerity of her apology. He was still angry but the roaring rapids of anger were now more like a quiet stream. Far easier to manage and put in perspective. He understood that her scars with Shaun went deeper than he could possibly understand. It was not shocking that she had defaulted to these choices. Michael sat next to her on the bed, his hand resting on her thigh.

“I know, I know. But listen to me, Charlotte.” She lifted her eyes to look at him, surprised to find the anger gone and nothing but grace and compassion remaining. “You never have to deal with anything alone again. I’m here and whether I agree with your decisions or not, I’ll always support you and help you. I promise you that. But you gotta come to me from now on, Charlotte. This? The lying, the secrets, putting your life in danger. You can never do this again. When I saw you, I thought you were…” he stopped himself and let out a shaky breath. “You can’t scare me like this ever again. Do you understand me?”

“Never. I promise. I’m so so sorry, baby.”

He nodded. “I know you are. It’s ok. Let’s get you home and in bed, aight?” Michael still felt guilty, ashamed that he was across the country instead of protecting her. He had known something was off and still left and that would haunt him for a while. But holding her choice against her because he felt ashamed would not help either of them. He trusted that she understood him and would come to him if she ever needed help again and that would have to be enough.

***

“How are you feeling?” Charlotte’s dad asked as they settled around the living room.

Charlotte was tucked into Michael’s side as she talked with her family. She had not really left his side since they left the hospital that morning. And he kept his hands somewhere on her the entire time. She knew they were both clinging to each other, unsurprising given what all had transpired.

She was not surprised but still slightly put out to find her entire family waiting in their apartment when they finally got home. She had not slept well in weeks and had not gotten more than an hour or two in the last 48 hours. She just wanted to curl up into Michael’s chest and sleep for days. Instead, she was on hour four of her family fawning over her. It was sweet and she understood why but she had never been less excited to see them in her life. Emotionally, she was barely holding it together and she was ready to fall but instead she was forced to hold on a bit longer, remaining upbeat so her family knew she was alright.

“I’m in some pain b-but none of it is super bad. Doc said I c-could be back on stage in a week as long as this heals alright,” she answered, pointing to the bandage on her head. Her voice signaled her hopefulness that that would be the case.

“That fast?” Tiffany, her eldest sister, asked from the kitchen.

Charlotte nodded. “Yea, I was kind of surprised too. But Chris canceled a couple shows, just till Tuesday so I won’t even miss a full week. The optics of his lead almost dying at the after party weren’t the best,” she admitted. She glanced up at Michael. “Can you make sure we send him some flowers and a bottle of wine? There’s a Merlot he loves that I can try to find. As an apology. I know that’s not how he saw his opening night going either.”

“Whatever you want, babe.”

Charlotte smiled, trying to keep the mood positive as everyone’s faces still looked grim every time they looked at her. “Well in a sort of silver lining from last night, the show went really well? Reviews came out a-and Michael read them on the way home. They are so amazing. I can’t wait for y’all to come back so you can see it.”

“Oh that’s great!” Allen offered.

“As if there was even a doubt about -” CJ started to say before Jackson cut him off.

“Are you fuckin’ serious right now?” Jackson blurted out, his anger getting the better of him. Charlotte could tell he was more upset than the rest of her family as he had been virtually silent since they arrived. But she knew why. “Are we really gonna talk about that damn musical like she didn’t fuckin’ almost die to be in it?”

“Baby…” Lauren chastised him. She offered Charlotte and Michael an apologetic glance that told them she tried to head off this outburst before they arrived. “We said we were gonna talk about this later.”

“Nah, fuck that!” Jackson stood up and all the anger in him seemed to explode. “What the hell is wrong with you?? How could you be so reckless? So fuckin’ stupid to let him do this shit to you again?? What the fuck, Charlie?”

Charlotte knew her brother did not mean his words, knew he was just angry. However, in such a fragile state, she could not help the way her body folded into Michael’s at Jackson’s tone and his words. She knew she deserved it. She had kept secrets and lied to her family as much as she did Michael. She knew what she put them through was wrong.

Michael immediately stood up in front of her, using his body as a protective shield from her brother’s harsh tone. He understood Jackson’s anger, he really did. But he had made peace with Charlotte’s choices and accepted her apology. And hours removed from the shock of everything, he regretted piling onto her pain in the hospital by blowing up at her. It was the wrong time to have that conversation. And so was this. He refused to allow anyone else to do it either. She had been knocked down enough in the last 24 hours, the last thing she needed was to get it from the people she loved too.

“Aight brah. Cool it. She knows she messed up but regardless, what happened last night wasn’t her fault. You need to take a breath and calm down.”

“Like hell it isn’t. She knew what he was capable of! And no disrespect but I’m tryin’ to have a conversation with my sister. In case you forgot, I’m the one that pieced her back together after that nigga fucked her up the first time. Meanwhile, she wouldn’t even look like that if you had been here protecting her instead of out in fuckin’ LA.”

“Aww shit,” Jazz muttered as Michael took a menacing step toward Jackson, his words clearly striking a sore spot.

There was barely any space for God between the two men as they stood off, Michael ready to throw hands with anyone who stepped at Charlotte the wrong way, present company included. The other men in the room rose from their seats as well, the tension between the two men palpable.

“I don’t give a fuck what you’re tryna do. I’m the one takin’ care of her now. And I’m tellin’ you to back the fuck up and calm the fuck down. Take another step toward her or raise your voice at her in my house again and I won’t be tellin’ you shit.”

“Alright, enough, enough.” Charlotte called out. She grunted in pain as she pushed herself up from the couch and made her way through the sea of testosterone to her brother and boyfriend. “Let’s all just calm down and sit down. N-No one, least of all me, has the energy to hear either of you argue about who’s more protective.” She placed a gentle hand on Michael’s chest to nonverbally let him know she was fine. He took a step back, raising his hands in surrender. However, when Charlotte stepped in front of him, his hand still went to rest on her hip as if he would need to move her behind him again. He was on edge, everyone understood it.

She turned and faced her brother. “You’re right. What I did was reckless and it was dumb. But I know you, Jackson. Look me in my eyes and tell me if you knew what was going on, you wouldn’t have flown here and made it your mission to drag me back to LA with you?”

Jackson scoffed. “Of course I fuckin’ would’ve. Because I’m the one that nursed you back to health when you left him, the one who woke up to you screaming night after night for months. Every good day, every bad day, every horrible day. I was there. I saw what he did to you, how he destroyed you. And I never wanted to see you go through that again. But I can’t believe I would’ve even had to convince you. The fact that you weren’t on the first flight home after you saw him is fuckin’ insane, Charlie. It makes me question your judgment entirely.”

“I know I wouldn’t be standing here without you, Jackson. Y-You and Lauren saved my life. A-and I am sorry for the lying and the secrets. Truly. I-If I could go back and do it differently, I w-would have told all of you. But even though I regret that, I still would’ve stayed here and done this show even if I knew this would be the outcome.” At her family’s shocked expression, she sighed. “Question my judgement, call me stupid, I don’t care. You helped me heal but I put myself back together piece by piece and I didn’t do that to live in fear of him for the rest of my life. I did it so I could live the life I want. So I could build the life I want, so I could be free. And I don’t regret staying here to fight for that life. I almost died and it was terrifying for me a-and I can only imagine how it felt for you all for the second time. And I’m truly sorry for that. But it was my choice. And I’m not gonna apologize for fighting for what I want, for what my soul needs. You don’t have to like that decision but you do have to respect it.”

“Jackson… she’s right,” her dad, Christian Sr, interjected. “Charlie has always been smart and driven. I wish there’d been another way but I understand. I’m just glad you’re ok, squirt.” Her dad wrapped her in a tight hug.

“Same, sis. But can this be the last time you almost die on us, please? It’s getting kinda old,” Tiffany joked under her breath, CJ hitting her on the arm.

Charlotte let out a belly laugh that made her ribs ache. “Y-Yea, I can do that. I’m down to 6 or 7 lives now anyway. I should preserve them. I’m sorry for scaring everyone. Seriously.” She glanced at her brother who had now gone silent. “Can you forgive me, J? Please?”

He pulled her into a hug, his lips pressed into the top of her head. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, Charlie,” he warned.

“I promise.”

“Ok, let’s all go check into our hotels and give Michael and Charlie some time alone. She needs rest. We can come back tomorrow,” Lauren remarked, shoo-ing everyone toward the door.

Charlotte mouthed thank you to her before wrapping her in a hug. If there was one person who was always a ride or die for her, it was Lauren. She never failed. Michael immediately led Charlotte into their room as soon as everyone filed out and started to help her get ready to finally rest.

“I-I think I want to shower first?”

“Whatever you want, baby. Need help?”

She shook her head. She had not been able to detach herself from Michael since they got home. But she realized after her family’s visit that she needed at least a moment of solitude, a few moments to process the last 48 hours alone. “No, I don’t think so. But I’ll leave the door open just in case.”

Michael settled into bed himself, grabbing his phone to check his email and text messages. It took him a while to make his way through all of them. He had ignored nearly every notification in his phone since he got back from LA. He clicked on one, a link to CNN from Steelo.

He wondered if he should even press play on the video but he decided to.

“And now, breaking news from Broadway. Last night, after the opening night performance of The Lighthouse, the musical’s star, Charlotte Bennett was attacked at the show’s afterparty at a nightclub in the Upper West Side. Bennett, a rising star most known for her role in the recent blockbuster hit Creed, recently returned to Broadway after a two year absence. The assailant, Shaun Parker of New York, was apprehended and is in police custody. NYPD held a press conference late this morning where they announced the state would be pursuing assault and attempted murder charges against the 30 year old investment banker. NYPD also shared that Bennett’s boyfriend, actor and star Michael B. Jordan, also from Creed, was also involved in the altercation, restraining Parker until police arrived.”

“NYPD found that there was a history of domestic violence between Parker and Bennett, Bennett having filed a restraining order and several police reports during their relationship. Lead detectives are still determining Parker’s motivation for attacking Bennett but evidence suggests it was in retaliation for rejecting his advances. Parker’s lawyers were not available for comment.”

“Guess that cat’s out of the bag,” he heard Charlotte mumble. Her body was wrapped in a towel, leaning against the door. He had been so wrapped up in the story that he had not even seen her exit the shower. He quickly closed the link and threw his phone down on the bed. She looked better to him, the light and life returning to her skin. She still looked dead on her feet but he knew only time in bed would fix that. He watched as she chewed on the side of her lip.

“I guess… I knew it’d make the news a-and people would find out. Now everyone’s gonna know how dumb I was, every stupid mistake I made.”

“Or… everyone’s gonna know you survived something awful and applaud you for it,” Michael offered as he grabbed clothes for her to change into and handed them to her.

She used his arms for balance as she stepped into a pair of his Calvin Klein briefs and he helped her pull the sweater over her body. She tried to control the grimaces and small expressions of pain but it proved difficult.

“Somehow I doubt that,” she whispered as he helped her get situated in bed. She let out a deep content sigh of relief at finally being able to relax. She looked at him for a moment and pulled on his arm to bring him close to her. “Thank you for taking care of me and for saving my life… a-and loving me.”

He shook his head. “You don’t ever have to thank me for any of that.” He pecked her on the lips.

However, as he leaned back, her hands cupped his face to stop him. Her thumb rubbed the stumble of his beard as she studied him. After a moment or two, she kissed him again and this time, they did not stop. Michael could feel it, all the pain she felt, her desperation and need as she clung to his body as if he would disappear if she let him go. However, when her hands naturally drifted to the waistband of his sweats to take it to the next level, he wrapped his hands around them to stop her. As much as his body responded to hers, he knew he could not allow this moment to go too far.

His hesitation had nothing to do with a lack of desire, his straining manhood was the proof of that. However, given how Shaun treated her during sex, Michael took great care in how he did. He vowed to ensure she never felt like she was merely a plaything or a warm body for his use. And while, after the day they had and almost losing her, he would love to bury himself inside her, he knew he could not do it even if she wanted it. Even if she chose to ignore it, Michael knew she was merely minutes away from falling apart and this would not help her hold it together.

However, the pained and disappointed look in her eyes almost made him question that resolve. And it broke his heart.

“W-what’s wrong?”

“You were almost murdered less than 24 hours ago. You’re injured and in pain. I can’t fuck you like that didn’t happen. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“But I wasn’t. And I appreciate you being a gentleman but I’m fine, I promise.” She captured his lips again.

“I-It’s not about being a gentleman. It’s about knowing you and what you need and this ain’t it.”

“ I need you,” she whispered back, her forehead resting against his. “Bakari, please. Don’t make me beg you. Please.” She tried to stop her voice from breaking, she knew that would not help convince him she was ok enough to do this. But she could not describe how desperate she was to feel something other than her current pain.

And now, his refusal only made her feel worse. This was utterly foreign to her. There had never been a time where Michael denied her or pumped the brakes. She had not even considered this outcome, figuring he would be ready to go if she was. But she supposed she could not blame him. Her bruised body was far from attractive.

He’s angry and disgusted by you, a voice in her head rang out loudly.

His eyes clenched shut as he struggled to stay steadfast in his convictions. But the need in her voice tested every fiber of his being. That voice, so vulnerable, so clearly desperate for him, made him want to relent. But he couldn’t.

“The last 48 hours have been hell. I see it in your eyes, you’re barely… you’re barely holding it together, love. You need rest and maybe you need me but I don’t think sex is what either of us need right now. And… whether you realize it or not, I imagine the things he did to you, however long ago, are gonna come back up. I don’t want to trigger any…” his words failed as she tore herself from his arms and turned on her side to face away from him in frustration.

“I-I k-knew this would happen,” she whispered to herself. “The bruises… s-seeing what he did. I d-disgust you.”

“That’s not it! Look at me. You have never and will never disgust me. I don’t even want to hear you say that shit. I always want you. But your physical and mental health is more important to me than anything else and that means we can’t do this.”

“I just want…” she whispered, unable to put her desires into words. It was not even a physical desire she craved. She just wanted to keep moving. She just knew if she laid here and sat in the stillness with him, the dam would break and she would fall apart. And she just was not ready to feel the extent of all of this yet. And she hated that Michael knew that, picked up on that so quickly. “I’m fine, Bakari.”

“I think you just want to feel something else… I think if we do this, it’ll make you feel like you’re fine when you aren’t. I know it’s hard for you to be vulnerable. But you got me, I’m here and you can fall apart, scream, cry… whatever. You can be not fine. You got me and I’m not going anywhere.”

Her eyes went to the ceiling to stop the tears from falling. “I am fine, Bakari.” She let out a groan of frustration at his silence, knowing he did not believe her. She could not tell who she was trying to convince more. Him or herself. “I’m fine.”

His hand wiped a tear that fell from her eyes as she stammered. “I promise you… I’m fine. I’m… fine,” she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of it all, the simple words being much more difficult to say. “I’m… f-” the words died in her throat as she started to sob.

“Come here.” He enveloped her in his arms as she broke down into tears, her sobs filling their bedroom. “You’re gonna be ok, Els. I promise. I gotchu and you’re safe. I promise.”

He moved onto the bed to better cradle her into his side, her face buried in his chest. They stayed like that all night, until she cried herself asleep, finally releasing weeks of pent up pain and fear. Michael watched her for most of the night, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest next to him. Every so often, she woke up whimpering softly, nightmares plaguing her sleep. And he would just hold her again and whisper the same refrain in her ears until she calmed down again. She was safe and he'd never let her feel this pain again. And he would make it his life’s mission to ensure he kept that promise.

Tag List: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings @pipsqueak-98 @miyuhpapayuh @passionxwrites @gopaperless

A/N: First, if you made it through this long sad chapter, THANK YOU! I hope the savage beating of that nigga was worth it LOL If you are wondering what I envisioned, if you watched Game of Thrones, think about when Jon beat the hell outta Ramsey after Battle of the Bastards lol that sort of visceral rage and Ramsey looked better than Shaun in my mind haha… I promise y'all, our story is on an upswing from here on out lol 90% fluff from now on, I promise!

Drop a comment and let me know what you think/let me know if you want to be tagged! How do you think Bakari and Els are gonna recover from all this?

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #black panther #adonis creed #michael b jordan fanfic #creed iii

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hollyethecurious · 8 months

Text

CS AU: Pan Says... (7/?)

Summary: After waking up in a strange room with a naked stranger, Emma and Killian must endure the twisted game their kidnapper insists they play in order to gain provisions and avoid punishments.

A/N: I know, I know... all I do lately is apologize for not updating more frequently. I promise to try and do better, and as penance I have for you today a longer update than I had originally planned, so... forgive me?

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE! Heed the warnings listed below. This chapter is a bit of a doozy.

Lots of love to @ultraluckycatnd and @kmomof4 for their exceptional beta skills!

Rated E /Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six

Chapter Prompts: I received a couple of Asks asking for scenarios I've included in this update. Most of them were anonymous, lol.

Warnings: This chapter contains depictions of medical assault and rape by instrumentation. Also includes somnophilia, dubious consent, and a POV some readers might find triggering. Please feel free to message me for specifics before reading if you need to.

Part Seven

Nature’s call pulled Killian from a deep sleep. He stumbled his way to the water closet, trying his best to not wake Emma as he closed the door and relieved himself. He’d just finished a haphazard washing of his hands when he heard the soft click of the lock on the bathroom door, and then the dread-inducing screech of the metal door that separated them from the rest of the compound. Someone had entered their room, Killian realized in a panic, frantically trying to open the firmly locked door that separated him from his Swan.

“Emma!” he shouted, hoping to rouse her from sleep before their intruder did. “Emma!”

Startled exclamations muffled their way to his ears, as did the rustling of sheets and thuds from bootfalls. Again, Killian cried out Emma’s name, banging on the door and demanding to be let out.

“Killian!” he heard Emma shout, a bit more distant than he’d expect if she were still on the bed.

More rustling and shuffles of feet, followed by the agonizing sound of the metal door sealing shut once more had Killian’s pulse spiking in fear. When the soft click of the lock finally released, he burst out of the bathroom to find the room vacant.

Pillows and linens were strewn across the bed and onto the floor. Killian followed the trail of the bedsheet and hammered his fist against the door. “Let me out!” he demanded, pain shooting up his arm with each pounding. “Let me out!”

“Why would I do that?” Pan’s voice crackled from overhead.

Killian turned to face one of the many cameras “hidden” within the room. “Bring her back!“ he shouted. “Bring Emma back!”

“I don’t think so,” Pan drawled, a hardened edge underpinning his words. “I think some time away from each other to reflect upon what you’ve done will do you both some good. Besides…” he drew out the dramatic pause, and though Killian had no idea what the vile little imp looked like, he couldn’t help but imagine a sinister grin being applied to his next words. “We both know your little act of defiance last night cannot go without punishment.”

“Take me, then” Killian pleaded. “Bring Emma back and take me! I’ll bear the punishment. Just… don’t hurt Emma.”

“Oh, you’ll share in the punishment,” Pan promised. “I have something very special planned for the both of you. Don’t you worry about that.”

Feedback shrieked through the speakers, forcing Killian to cover his ears as Pan quite clearly and effectively shut down their communication. Tears welled in Killian’s eyes and his whole body shook from the overwhelming fear consuming him.

What was Pan planning to do? How long would he and Emma be separated from one another? What would they have to endure whilst they were reflecting?

Killian sank down on the edge of the bed and buried his head in his hands. “I’m so sorry, Emma,” he whispered into the silence. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

Eventually, he traded his seated position at the end of the bed to being curled up in the fetal position upon it. He watched the path of the sun as its beams entered through the high window after sunrise and crossed the floor of the room during the early morning hours. He was numb and emotionally spent, having given over to the terror and tears that had wracked his body for what seemed like hours. Now, he just laid there, staring at the chips and cracks in the floor, without even the energy to chastise himself. What would the point be in that? It wasn’t as though there was anything he could do. No way out of the room, no way to communicate with anyone, no way to help Emma.

Killian clamped his eyes shut and fought back the rising bile his mutinous imagination threatened to bring up. Try as he might to keep the thoughts and visions at bay, he couldn’t help but consider the atrocities Pan might be subjecting her to. He turned his face into the mattress and balled the sheet in his hand, attempting once more to expel the torment of his mind.

The crackle of static from the tv screen grabbed his attention and Killian bolted off the bed. The monitor showed a sterile looking exam room, much like one would find at a physician’s office. Coming into frame from off screen, a Lost One appeared carrying an unconscious Emma in his arms. Killian tensed as he watched him lay her on the exam table, only relaxing when he disappeared out of frame again. The relief was short lived when another man entered, quickly followed by a small statured woman. Both were garbed in medical scrubs, including surgical masks, which obscured their identity.

Killian watched in confused horror as the woman - a nurse? - folded out a pair of stirrups from the end of the table and set Emma’s feet into them. She and the doctor (or at least, Killian hoped he was a doctor) positioned Emma to their liking, covering her lower half with a sheet before the doctor brought over a stool and sat between her spread open legs. Killian watched with shallow breaths and clenched fists as the nurse handed the doctor instruments so he could perform some sort of procedure. When it finally became clear to him, Killian was shocked to realize what he was witnessing.

They were removing her IUD.

Pushing himself away from the exam table, the doctor stood and removed his gloves. There was no audio, but Killian deduced he had given the nurse instructions before departing. It wasn’t until after the man had gone that Killian acknowledged the reason for the extra tension he’d been holding. As violating as the procedure had been, Killian had prepared himself to witness an altogether different kind of violation of his Swan.

Shaken, Killian sat back down and ran his hands through his hair, only vaguely aware Pan had come back on the speaker.

“What?”

“Pan says,” he repeated, “you are not permitted to tell her what you just saw.”

Stunned, Killian blinked several times, letting his mind catch up to the horrors Pan continued to lay before him, then thunderously, he stood and shouted, “You can’t expect me to keep something of this magnitude from her!”

“You will if you want to keep her alive,” Pan stated flatly, sobering Killian and sending a chill down his spine. “Keep this to yourself,” Pan warned again. “Or your punishment will be paid by her… with her life.”

~/~

Emma sat on a tiny cot with her knees pulled up to her chest. The hospital gown they’d given her the day before was stiff and scratchy against her skin, but at least she was no longer cramping.

Pan had told her that she would be the one punished, because she had been the instigator in her and Killian’s “dalliance”. The price for such an offense… she had to have her IUD removed, and she had to keep its removal a secret from Killian.

“You can’t expect me to keep something like that from him!” she’d protested, yelling up at the speakers embedded in the ceiling of her new, tiny cell.

“If you do not,” Pan had warned her coldly, “Then I will force Killian to pay the price… with a pound of his flesh.”

When the doctor had come in to talk with her before the procedure, she’d learned he was one of Pan’s poor unfortunate victims as well, forced to serve as the demented imp’s medical errand boy. He seemed professional enough, though perhaps a bit arrogant. His brash demeanor shifted though when Emma asked him what Pan had meant by “a pound of flesh.”

Swallowing hard, the platinum haired man exhaled deeply before confessing, “It could mean a variety of things. Having an organ removed so it can be sold on the black market, or even an… an amputation.”

“Amputation?!” Emma exclaimed in a shocked whisper. “You mean you…”

Solemnly the man nodded. “I’ve been forced to remove every organ imaginable and sever untold numbers of body parts from various victims of Pan’s.” Taking her hand in his, he squeezed it tightly and advised, “If you want your friend to remain whole, then do as Pan says.”

She’d woken up in this new room some time later, sore between her legs in a different sort of way than she had been after her night with Killian. A note with self-care instructions and a bottle of ibuprofen had been left on the table by her bedside, and it was then Emma had realized she’d mercifully been anesthetized for the procedure. The day had stretched into night and Emma had sat paralyzed with guilt and fear over what Killian might be going through. She’d had little to no sleep, and was therefore more on edge than normal when the door to her cell opened the next morning.

“Sorry,” the doctor apologized, noting how she’d balked at his appearance. “I just wanted to check and see how you were doing. Is it alright if I examine you? I have my nurse with me.”

Emma consented to his examination, not wishing to give Pan any further ammunition to use against her, or worse… against Killian.

“Everything seems to be in order,” he told her. “Anything bothering you physically? Any pain?”

Emma shook her head and mumbled she was fine, then sat back up with the assistance of the nurse once he’d finished. She was just straightening the hospital gown when she felt the prick of a needle pierce her shoulder.

“What did you…” The question fell away as numbness immediately began to overtake her. Within seconds, Emma could not move her arms or legs and she slumped over into the doctor’s arms, unable to keep herself upright.

“It’s okay,” the man soothed, laying her back down on the cot. “The effects are temporary. You’ll remain conscious, but you’ll be unable to move or speak until it wears off.”

More and more of her succumbed to the paralysis, her entire body becoming heavy and unresponsive. When her eyes would not open again after a blink, Emma panicked. Her heart raced at the sound of bootfalls entering the room and a silent scream echoed through her mind when she was hoisted off the cot and over a man’s shoulder.

~/~

Killian stood in the corner opposite the door, anxiously waiting for it to open. He wasn’t sure if having forewarning of Emma’s return was better or worse than simply being surprised. In the last few minutes since Pan had given him the news and his instructions, Killian had worked himself into another right state.

His stomach churned in a way that made him thankful for his lack of appetite since Emma had been carted away. Although, its lack of contents did not stop the threatening bile from creeping up his throat. His palms were slick with a sweat that was slowly breaking out over his entire body and his heart felt as though he might choke on it.

With the notice and instruction had also come the reminder to not let on what he’d seen the day before. As if he could forget. However, when the door finally opened and the Lost Ones entered (one with Emma over his shoulder and the other brandishing a cattle prod in Killian’s direction), Killian understood why Pan felt the need to remind him. All he wanted to do was take her in his arms and reassure himself of her safety, to inquire how she was feeling, whether she was in pain or needed anything from him to ease the after effects of what she’d been through. Of course, he couldn’t do that. He had to pretend he didn’t know any more than she did about what happened to her during their separation. Her life depended on it.

“Swan?” Killian called out as the Lost One laid her on the bed. “Swan, are you alright?”

She didn’t move. Didn’t respond. For an awful, gut-wrenching second, Killian thought she might be…

A sigh of relief whooshed from his lungs when he saw her chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. She was alive. Thank God!

“I’m afraid she is currently… unable to respond,” Pan said over the speaker system as the Lost Ones backed out of the cell.

Once the door was secured, Pan gave Killian permission to leave the corner, and he wasted no time in rushing to Emma’s side.

“Swan?” he prodded, gently shaking her shoulders. “Emma, love. Wake up.”

“I told you,” Pan sighed in a bored yet exasperated tone. “She is unable to respond.”

“What did you do to her?” Killian demanded, his gaze sweeping over her form, working in tandem with his hands as he searched for injuries or any other clue that might explain her comatose condition. Was she still under the effects of the anesthetic she’d been given?

“Careful,” Pan warned in a feigned voice of concern. “She has a number of bruises and abrasions. You wouldn’t want to go and injure her further.”

Killian’s head snapped towards the camera perched over the TV monitor and again demanded, through grit teeth, “What did you do--”

“Oh, don’t look at me,” Pan said. “I had nothing to do with those bruises, or any of the other markings. You did that.”

Killian’s eyes slid back to Emma’s body, and he began to note the marks his mouth had made on her neck, as well as the faint impressions his fingertips had left behind.

“Pan says,” the voice commanded in an accusatory tone, “undress her and take a good look at what you’ve done to her.”

“No,” Killian stated, defiantly. Standing from the bed, where he’d been kneeling next to Swan’s prone body, he took measured steps towards the camera, wagging his finger in its direction. “I know what you’re doing,” he said. “I won’t have you twisting what happened. I know what Emma and I shared the other night and it wasn’t what you’re insinuating.”

“Oh? What was it then?”

“It was magic,” he declared vehemently, with his arms spread in boastful defiance, “And freedom. Full unabated freedom. The kind you experience with someone you trust unequivocally, with whom you can bare yourself in ways you never thought yourself capable. The kind that requires a level of understanding, devotion, and acceptance rarely found between two individuals.”

Each word of defense against Pan’s implied censures was also a much needed reminder to himself of the truth of what he and Emma shared. He would not let this vile monster take from them what they had sought to claim for themselves.

“That’s what Emma and I have and nothing you can say or do is going to change that fact.”

“Oh?” Pan drawled. “Perhaps not,” he stated as the cell door squealed opened and a Lost One sauntered into the room. “But I imagine he can.”

Positioning himself between the Lost One and Emma, still lying helpless on the bed, Killian braced his posture and demanded to know, “What do you mean? What’s he going to do?”

“That depends on you,” Pan replied. “If what you say is true, then surely Emma won’t object to you taking some liberties with her whilst she is currently… indisposed.”

“Liberties?” Killian questioned. Though a sick feeling forming in the pit of his stomach had already begun to deduce the madman’s meaning.

“It appeared to me that she took quite a few liberties with you the other night, so I’m simply letting you return the favor. Of course… should you refuse…”

The Lost One’s hands dropped to his waist and he began to loosen his belt, his salacious gaze and a hint of a smug smile peeking out from the mask he wore.

“No! Stop!” When Killian’s words failed to stall the Lost One’s actions, he turned back towards the camera and agreed with Pan’s wishes. “I’ll do as you say. I’ll take whatever liberties you demand, just…” Pointing a stern finger at the Lost One, Killian implored, “Get him out of here!”

The Lost One’s hands balled themselves into fists and he hesitated for a moment after the order from Pan was issued. His eyes fell to Emma, a sinister sort of longing swirling through their brown depths, before he flicked them back up and glared at Killian as he backed out of the cell.

He’d wanted her, Killian realized with a jolt of propriety rage and jealousy. It hadn’t simply been a command he was conditioned to obey that had made him willing to do the unthinkable to Emma. He wanted her, had been eager to have her, even.

Emma’s comments about her exchange with one of the Lost One’s returned to him and he couldn’t help but wonder if the Lost One he’d just encountered had been the same, or… No. She had said the Lost One who had carried him back after being drugged seemed to care for him. That Lost One, the one who had just departed, held nothing but animosity towards Killian. Did that mean…?

If Killian had a connection to the other Lost One, then was this Lost One connected to Emma somehow?

The startling question would have to be left unanswered for the moment. Killian needed to focus on the rules and procedures Pan was currently laying out for his new depraved game.

~/~

It had taken some doing, but Emma had managed to quiet the panic deafening her mind. Being unable to control one’s body, to even open your eyes or utter a sound was the most unnatural and surreal feeling she had ever experienced. The only thing she could seem to manipulate was her breathing, but it also continued to work involuntarily as well.

She’d held her breath in awe against the swell of emotion that had filled her during Killian’s declarations, but it had sped up on its own, almost to the point of hyperventilating when the Lost One had returned and Pan’s intentions had been made clear.

Never doubting that Killian would do whatever he had to in order to keep her safe had not kept her from again holding her breath until the sound of the door screeched closed this last time, ensuring she would not suffer at the hands of some stranger. Now, she attempted to regulate her breathing once more as Pan gave instructions to Killian regarding their new game.

“Of course, I realize that my voice might be a bit of a distraction… a deterrent even. So, you’ll know a new Pan Says has been issued when the lights flicker. You can then receive your next set of instructions from the monitor. Understood?”

“Aye,” Killian clipped out, sounding closer now than he had a moment again. “Let’s get on with it.”

“Excellent,” Pan crowed. “This will be my last vocal command until our game is at an end. Pan says… undress Emma.”

The bed dipped and she could feel Killian’s presence. She longed to reassure him, to look into his eyes and let him know she was alright, that she wouldn’t hold anything he had to do to her against him. All she could do was lie there, though; a limp piece of dead weight he had to roll and reposition without any assistance in order to appease Pan and his perverted commands.

Once the hospital gown had been removed, leaving her thoroughly exposed, Killian returned her to her back and from behind her eyelids she could detect the change in lighting as they dimmed and brightened, signaling a new Pan Says. If she could have scoffed, she would have. Of course he was giving written instructions. Pan knew she was conscious and could hear everything. He didn’t want her to have any forewarning of what was to be done to her, the bastard.

The mattress dipped next to Emma’s head and she felt the scratch of Killian’s beard against her cheek. Inhaling deeply, she let his scent fill her lungs, let its calming balm soothe her racing heart.

“I’m sorry, love,” he whispered low and soft into her ear. “I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me for what I must do.”

I already have, she told him, if only in her mind.

Her breath hitched at the feel of his rough tongue caressing the space below her ear. It only took a few swirls and licks for her to process what he was being forced to do, her skin still sore in the places where he had sucked his brand into her flesh during their lovemaking. Pan was making him trace every mark, every bruise, every abrasion Killian had left on her body with nothing more than his tongue.

Pin pricks of wonder rippled across her skin when he reached her breasts. His hot breath preceded the warmth of his mouth as it caressed the scrapes previously left behind from his teeth. She wanted nothing more than to arch her back and encourage him to take her nipples fully into his mouth, but her inability to move was proving torturous in ways she had not considered.

Her stomach, her hips, the insides of her thighs, all points of contact along the front of her he had to trace with his tongue before rolling her onto her stomach. He took extra care and attention to place her arms and head into as comfortable positions as he could before continuing his ministrations down her back. Long, lingering, dampened laves followed the welts and scratches left by his nails and soft flutters caressed the bruises on her hips and buttocks, causing a shiver to run up her spine and a dull ache to begin throbbing from between her legs, which were dangling awkwardly off the bed.

The lights dimmed and brightened again and before Emma had a chance to wonder what Pan’s new demand was, a light smack landed on her backside. The lights flickered again and a slightly harder slap cracked across her ass. When the lights signaled again, the sting of Killian’s palm, firmly making contact with her already reddened and raised flesh, brought tears to her eyes. As did the next strike, and the one after that, and the ones after that. Tears broke free from her lashes, pooling in the crease next to her nose before slipping across her face into the sheet beneath her cheek. Killian’s rough, calloused hand stroked her ass, attempting to soothe some of the pain he’d inflicted. Pain she absolutely did not mind. In fact, she kinda got off on it, and when his fingers dipped between her legs to find her wet and wanting, his groan told her it was a fact he was now aware of as well.

A series of strobing lights had Killian on his knees in front of foot of the bed, his face buried in her folds with his mouth latched to her clit, while his fingers toyed with and probed her holes. He was knuckle deep in her ass, fucking her with his fingers as his tongue assaulted her cunt and she could hear the cries of her body, begging for release, whimpering in her head, unable to convey its desire in any way, shape, or form, which had to be the most maddening experience of her life. When relief finally came, her orgasm slammed through her completely unobstructed with an intensity far greater than any she could ever remember having before. A moan vibrated through her pussy, prolonging her climax, and Emma wondered if, despite her inability to tell him so, Killian could tell she had come from his tongue.

Her breathing was labored, the sound of her blood roared in her ears, and she felt flushed and sated from the tips of her ears to the points of her toes. Unable to vocalize, a groan stuck in her throat when he removed his fingers from her depths and began to roll her over onto her back once more. She hadn’t even noticed the lights indicating a new task.

Attempting to regain her bearings, Emma could hear the rustling of fabric and suspected Killian was taking off his clothes. Her heart rate picked up at the prospect of him being inside her, filling her like he had the other night, and a fresh ache took hold of her core even as she worried about her new unprotected status. With a firm tug, he pulled her closer to the edge of the bed until her ass was practically hanging off the side. Lifting her hips, he wedged a pillow beneath her, raising her pelvis and tilting it up to meet his groin.

She startled when his cock slapped against her clit, not that he would be able to tell. Her skin raised in a ripple of goose flesh when he did it a second and then third time before lining himself up with her entrance and stretching her in that delicious way as he entered her. Grabbing her ankles, he draped them over his shoulders, then wrapped his arms around her legs, holding them tight to his chest as he began to rut his hips into hers. The rhythm he set was punishing, the force of each thrust making her breasts bounce wildly, borderline painfully, as he pistoned deeper and deeper into her. His pace was relentless, slowing down only once several minutes into the assault, when the lights flickered and he presumably glanced over his shoulder to read Pan’s newest command. He fucked her for an indeterminate amount of time after that. Forcefully, savagely, almost brutally.

The sound of their bodies slapping together echoed through the room, as did Killian’s ragged breathing and choked back utterances. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he pulled out and let go of her legs, causing one of them to slip off his shoulders. He grunted and cried out as hot streams of his release coated her breasts and stomach. Staccatoed breaths and moans reverberated off the metal walls until he was thoroughly spent, then he brushed a gentle kiss to the inside of her leg before resting his head against it, the sweat of his brow making it a slick point of contact.

“Good boy, Killian,” Pan rasped from overhead, ruining any tenderness Killian had been trying to infuse into the moment.

“Fuck off,” he snapped back, lowering her leg back down while removing the pillow from beneath her.

“Ah, ah,” Pan tutted. “Pan says to leave her as is.”

“Let me at least pull her further up the bed, so she doesn’t slip off onto the floor,” Killian argued.

When Pan did not respond, Killian climbed onto the bed and positioned himself behind her. Grasping under her arms, he hoisted her up the mattress until she was now completely situated on the bed. It shook as he collapsed next to her, his breaths still coming in pants from the extreme exertion he’d put both their bodies through.

She could visualize his face in her mind. Beads of perspiration were probably littering his brow and gathering in the hollow of his throat. His eyes were likely closed, his long lashes resting against his rosy cheeks, which would be nearly as pinked as his lips, red and swollen from the way he’d practically made a meal out of her. She longed to sweep his bangs off his forehead, to run her fingers down his face and trace his lips, allowing him to kiss each tip and tease them with his tongue.

As they lay there a tingling began to work its way through the numbness. Small jerks and spasms rippled through her extremities, exacerbating the soreness in her tender places. A groan made its way past her lips and she was finally able to pry her eyes open. She could feel Killian roll towards her, concern and guilt swimming in his eyes as his face came into view overhead.

“Swan?”

“K-Killian,” she croaked, attempting to raise her hand so she could cup his face, but it wouldn’t cooperate.

“Don’t try and move,” he said, making his way off the bed and into the bathroom. “I have to… you’ll need to…”

Unable to finish his thought, it wasn’t until she was finally able to turn her head and saw him return with a wet washcloth that she realized what he was struggling to tell her.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, trying to work up the necessary saliva to wet and clear her throat. “I know. I was conscious the whole time.”

“You… What?”

When she tried to sit up, he climbed back onto the bed, stalling her actions and encouraging her to lie back while he cleaned her up.

“Yeah, they injected me with… something. I don’t know what,” she explained, enjoying the feel of the damp cloth as it ran over her breasts and across her stomach, wiping away the now dried-on mess. “I couldn’t move or speak, but I was aware of everything. Could hear and… feel everything.”

Killian’s face pinched in a pained expression, and she could practically feel the guilt rolling off him. “I’m so sorry, Swan. I--”

“Hey,” she soothed, taking his hand. “It’s okay. You have to know that no matter how deranged or depraved, I’d rather it be you doing those things to me than--”

“Aye, I do… it’s just...”

“What?”

The muscle along his jaw tightened, causing a small spasm to ripple beneath his skin. Unable to meet her gaze, he confessed with a heavy dose of shame and penitence, “I enjoyed it.” His voice was little more than an exhale. If he’d been any further away, she likely wouldn’t have heard him at all. After a long pause he finally worked up the courage to look at her as he continued, “I didn’t want to. I only wanted to get it over with, but I… I started to enjoy it and--”

“Killian,” Emma sweetly admonished. “Do you really think I’d fault you for that? Do you think I was suffering the whole time? Because believe me… I wasn’t.” He offered her a small smile, but still didn’t seem convinced. Squeezing his hand more tightly, she added, “I will never hold my bringing you pleasure against you, no matter the circumstances. Every time there’s been intimacy between us, I’ve enjoyed it, at least on some level. Every. Time. Don’t ever forget that. Don’t ever forget those beautiful words you said to Pan about us.”

His eyes widened, perhaps realizing for the first time that she had been conscious for that part as well.

“I meant every word,” he assured her. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel guilty for the things I’ve done to you. Even though you say you enjoyed it, I see the bruises I left, from both the other night and the ones forming from my actions from only moments ago, and I hate myself for causing you pain.”

Stronger now, she sat up and cupped his face. “I won’t pretend I’m not sore, but… being with you is hands down the best sex of my life, and I would do it all again in a heartbeat.”

His eyes flickered between hers, reading the truth in her gaze and causing a more genuine smile to bloom from his face.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he replied on a heavy, relieved breath. Then a smirk lifted the corner of his mouth and with a raised brow he cheeked, “Though, given what you’ve told me of your past sexual encounters, that isn’t really saying much.”

She laughed and slapped his shoulder before falling into his arms, surrendering into his embrace as they clung to each other for several minutes. It wasn’t until after they’d broken apart, with him helping her off the bed so they could both get dressed, that a sobering thought occurred to her.

“You know,” she said, uncomfortably clearing her throat as she pulled her pants up over her hips, “given what I know of your past… I’ll understand if you don’t feel the same. About the sex, I mean. Well, that and--”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he said, interrupting her before she could mention Milah, the love he had lost and practically ruined his life for. “I loved Milah and we had many wonderful experiences together, but,” he took her hands in his and gazed at her in a way she thought she might drown in those blue depths, “nothing as ever amazing as… this.”

Guiding her back to the bed, they sat on its edge and he further confided, “I think Milah and I always had a part of ourselves held back from the other. Regardless of how we felt, we knew it was wrong. We knew we weren’t free to truly love one another, and since having met you, I’ve come to realize something.”

“What?”

Flicking up his gaze, he said something she never would have expected. “How alike her husband and I truly were.”

Emma blanched. “What do you mean?”

Running his thumb over the backs of her knuckles, he paused for a long moment. Emma could tell this revelation was not easy for him. Perhaps he was still trying to find a way to verbalize it. Sensing he needed time, she waited patiently for him to continue.

“She belonged to him. That’s what he always said,” he relayed, haltingly, from the memories he was dredging up. “She belonged to him. Her husband.” Pulling himself back into the here and now, he focused on her once more and a sad smile ghosted across his lips. “Milah used to assure me that despite the fact she was married, she belonged to me, and I took that to heart. I started to feel like she did belong to me, and I was wrong for doing so. Not because she was married, but because… a woman should not belong to anyone. She was not an object to possess, anymore than you are.” His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his attention turned towards the door of their cell. “He thought you were his to possess. I see that now.”

“Who?”

“The Lost One who came in here when Pan threatened to have another fulfill his demented wishes.”

Her gasp pulled his attention back towards her, and she felt as though her heart might hammer its way out of her chest as he told her, “I think he has a connection to you, Swan. Like the other Lost One has towards me. I think you know him, because I am certain he knows you.”

“How?” she asked, breathlessly. “How do you know--”

“He wanted you,” Killian begrudgingly told her. “But more than that, it was like he felt he had a right to have you. I could see a longing in his eyes, as though he knew… knew what having you would be like.”

Emma opened her mouth to respond, her mind racing with the implications of Killian’s words, but before she could say anything he took her face in his hands and the look in his eyes stole her breath away.

“You may have given me your consent. You might even think I had a right to do what I did in obeying Pan’s rules in order to safeguard your body and your dignity, but you do not belong to me, Swan. You are not mine to do with as I wish.” Pressing his forehead to hers, he murmured, “But I hope you might feel as though you belong with me, as I feel I belong with you. That we belong together, not to each other.” Swallowing thickly, he pulled back and softly whispered, “I love you, Emma.” Then captured her lips before she could reply.

Part Eight

#csff #cs ff #cs fic #cs au #pan says...#heed the warnings #words by hollye

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lookismaddict · 2 years

Text

Lookism: Rendezvous 🔞 (Ch. IX) || Gun Park x Fem! Reader ♡

Author’s Note: I apologize that there wasn’t much happening in the last chapter. That one was kinda a doozy to write ngl. 😭 I decided to mention the YouTube version of PTJ’s universe since that’s what Lookism mentioned before. (Even in Viral Hit too, but that’s irrelevant rn lol) And also, I’m sorry to all the smut lovers! I was trying to build up to this moment because I wanted to balance out the story. I didn’t want it to always be smut all the time or else it’s just going to be repetitive. This chapter though, will definitely lead to the spice that will soon come. I hope you like this one. 🤭💓 (Also, I’m sorry if the format for this chapter is weird. I had to squeeze some stuff in because of space.)

NSFW Warning: Violence, Strong language/Cursing, Sexual Language, and Sexual Content (teasing and sensual touching).

Story Summary: You traveled abroad to help support your mother who is sick, back home in Japan. However, once you reached Korea, everything went downhill until you met a stranger who offered you a deal that could benefit you. But who knew that this special encounter would turn your whole life around…

Driving in silence should be illegal. You thought of how this annoying car couldn’t even compare to how better the Rolls Royce Phantom was, which made you think of a good name for it.

“Kuro Maboroshi.” [黒幻]

Gun gave a slight smirk, now knowing what you’ve been thinking inside that pretty little head of yours.

“Ah, so that’s what you’ve come up with.”

“Well, it isn’t as bad as calling your other car an ‘Obnoxious Goblin’.”

“Hm…”

“So… yes?”

“Fine.”

Turning to the side of the car, you gave yourself a small fist pump for your silent victory, before turning back around to fix your posture.

“Also, I saw that you were busy back there while you made me wait for you.”

Wait, he was there this whole time? Well, here it comes. The interrogation…

“Oh. You saw that?”

“Yeah, I did. I caught you with Eli Jang and the rest of the main members of Hostel.”

Frozen, you sat there in your seat trying to play out the memories that just happened in your head. Now, the name “Eli Jang” is familiar to you. You remembered Gun had mentioned Eli’s name before while he was talking about his successor. Overall, the thought of encountering members of one of the four major crews made you deny the possibilities of ever encountering them in the first place.

“That was them? Nah, there’s no way…”

“Why are you denying it? Have you seen their Hostel tattoos?”

For a minute, you thought about the visible tattoos of the letter “H” that you saw printed on the obvious parts of their bodies. Eventually, Gun took the silence for a “yes” as he continued, “If you obviously saw their Hostel tattoos, then there’s no point in trying to rationalize what just happened. Whatever happened, happened.”

Suspiciously, your squinted eyes turned to look at him. “You’re awfully passive about this. Didn’t you tell me back at that restaurant that there would be a really low chance of encountering them in Seoul?”

“Yes, I did. But I never said anything about how you’ll NEVER encounter them at all. You just so happened to be lucky today.”

Shocked at Gun’s bullshitery, you scoffed while rolling your eyes. “‘Lucky’? You call THAT lucky? They now know who I am! Well, I don’t think I told them my name because I was in a hurry, but they still know my face!”

“And?”

“‘And’? Why are you so calm?! They already met one of the people who will take them down!!!”

Gun let out a low yet entertained chuckle saying, “Just relax. To be honest, I didn’t think you’d meet them so soon. However, there’s no need to worry. They don’t even know that you’re associated with me in the first place so you can stop stressing about it.”

“Yeah, well… what if I encounter the other crews…?”

“Then you’ll just have to become a better liar and prevent yourself from looking like an open book. Your face can be so readable at times, so work on that.”

Due to that low blow from Gun, you instantly reacted by turning your head to face him. The look that you were giving him from his peripheral vision was nothing more but hatred towards him, that he couldn’t help but smirk at your displeased face.

“Come on, don’t look at me like that. I was only just stating the facts.”

“What do you mean? Is my face THAT readable to you?”

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

His annoying comments never fail to piss you off as you turned your head to the side, sick of actually looking at his smug face that was clearly enjoying your downfall. To change the subject, you asked him, “How long were you there in front of the market waiting for me?”

“Not too long.”

As Gun continued to drive onwards, he quickly reminisced the sight he saw back at that marketplace.

Gun finally came back from the phone shop with your new phone inside the small shopping bag placed near his ash tray in front of the center console of the car. The white Rolls Royce Ghost, or as you like to call it “Shiro Oni”, arrived at the spot where you were supposed to meet Gun. When his right foot stepped on the brake, he turned the rotary shift knob to “P”. Now waiting for your arrival, he searched around the car for you by looking at his side windows then his rearview mirror. Once he took a glimpse at his rearview mirror, he immediately caught a sight of you, sitting on the bench. His hand was about to press the horn on his steering wheel to signal that he was finally there, but what stopped him was the sight of a small human sitting beside you. With caution, he stared at the figure of that small child as he noticed that the young one looked very familiar to him. That bun, bundled up on top of her head, the little yellow dress that she was wearing, and that pretty round face of hers was enough to remember that the child was indeed, Eli Jang’s, the leader of Hostel.

Gun wondered what you were doing with Eli Jang’s child, as he continued to watch over you from afar. He saw you take out a packet of portable on-the-go applesauce from the small plastic bag you had with you, then gave it to the kid for her to eat it herself. While watching you nurse the fragile child in front of you by helping her digest the food with light pats on her back, Gun pondered about how well you take care of children. First Kouji, and now, Yenna Jang? It was astonishing to see that you had a soft and content side when it comes to children. However, whenever you and Gun would interact, it was quite the opposite. The two of you would somehow always end up verbally dissing each other to no end. Just name any topic, and both of you would break out in a war full of petty curses and insults. His eyes then followed you down the sidewalk, as you were now carrying Eli’s daughter in your arms. You were walking over to two other people who Gun did not expect to see, which was Warren Chae the Gate Keeper and Sally Park the Big Mama of Hostel. This whole scene that Gun was viewing for himself was like watching a TV show. An interesting show, that hits him with plot twist after unexpected plot twist. And oh, does it get better! Finally, the main lead that Gun was anticipating for shows up at the scene.

Intrigued by the sight of Eli Jang joining in with the four of you, Gun’s mouth curved to a mischievous smirk while still viewing the rearview mirror from above. He witnessed you finally speaking to Eli in person as he mumbled to himself, “And now, here comes the real fun. I bet she doesn’t even realize who she’s talking to right now, knowing how slow she can be. Talk about a twist of fate…”

It took about thirty minutes for you to finish your conversation with the Hostel crew, making Gun lie back on his leather seat, grieving a tired groan from waiting for you.

“Damn. Can they just wrap it up already, and hurry the fuck up? I’ve got better things to do.” Knowing that he can’t sound the car horn to avoid drawing any attention to himself, he had no choice but to wait there the whole entire time for you to be done. Eventually, his eyes lit up as he saw that you were already saying your goodbyes. While watching you now dispersing from each other and walking down the direction towards his car, his back shot up to fix his own posture on the seat. When you finally made it to your side of the car door, he heard you knock on it a few times then stood there without opening the door, making him shake his head in amusement. “This idiot…”

He had to roll down the window for you to say, “It’s already open.” before you could even enter the car. Once you were inside the car, Gun didn’t waste any time as he started the car to drive down the path of returning back home.

While Gun was replaying the events that just happened in his head, his mind was forced to return back to the present as it was interrupted by the sound of the crumpling of a bag of chips. His head turned to see what you were up to, catching you now munching on the honey butter chips that you bought recently.

“Oi, what the hell are you doing in my car?”

From the corner of your eye, you caught Gun staring at your direction, as you stopped yourself from consuming that one chip that you are still holding in your hand.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’? You’re eating chips in MY car.”

“So… what? Do you want one? I can give you one if you’d like.”

You reached the hand that was holding the chip over to where his mouth was as you said while babying him saying, “Here Gun, say ‘Ah!’” Gun’s eyebrows furrowed in an irritated fashion, which resulted in him to smack your hand away from his face with the back of his own hand. With that, you ignored him cursing under his breath while you nibbled away on your sweet potato chips. “And what did I tell you about eating when you’re not hungry.” You shrugged nonchalantly saying, “It’s fine! Just let me do this once. I’ve always wanted to try it because of that one commercial I saw on TV. So, please, just this once.”

Gun’s foul mood faded when he suddenly remembered the phone that he got for you. “If you haven’t seen the bag down there yet, I suggest that you go through it now.”

With a curious look on your face, you looked down to see a small bag sitting next to his ash tray. Your hand picked it up, reaching into it like it was a mystery bag. When you felt the bulkiness of a small elongated box, you grabbed onto it to pull it right out of the bag. My oh my, you couldn’t believe what kind of phone he just got you! Inside the bag was the newest model of the iPhone, in which you felt your hands starting to tremble from how surprised and overwhelmed you felt about holding it in your hands.

This bastard really went overboard with the “gift-giving”. I don’t deserve something like this at all! I mean, come on. An iPhone?! Are you serious?! And it’s even the newest version too! I’m afraid that I might break this thing, knowing how brand new it is and how fragile this is. Ah, geez…

While staring at the box on your lap, you said in a reluctant tone, “Are you secretly a Sugar Daddy? Because, what the actual fuck…”

“Do you want me to be your ‘Sugar Daddy’? I don’t mind, if that’s what you truly want-”

“No. I’m good.”

Right off the bat, you denied his offer, afraid that it would give you a big headache from how complicated your relationship already was with him. Also, you didn’t find the extra baggage to be necessary, since you plan on paying him back for all of this someday, regardless of what he has to say. The contract that you two signed together will eventually become void and at that point, you don’t have to follow his orders anymore. Whether he likes it or not, you will pay him back and you will make him take it no matter what.

Sorry Gun, but that’s just how my ideology works.

For now, you decided to just accept it. Either way, he wouldn’t give you a choice to refuse it in the first place. “As much as I’d like to refuse this ‘gift’ and give this back to you even though I can’t… thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do for my student, who’s always so careless.”

Gun’s words made you shoot a sharp glare at his direction, as his eyes were still concentrating on the road.

“Tch. You’re lucky that the contract is what binds me to your words. If it weren’t for that, I would’ve chucked this thing right out the window.”

“I don’t think that would be a smart idea. You still need it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever…”

“I suggest that you look through it and play around with its features, so you can get used to it. I don’t want you to bother me every few seconds, asking ‘What does this do?’ And you don’t have to worry about not being able to use your phone without Wifi. I had someone install a data plan for it so you can use it anywhere you go. There’s even unlimited talk and text for it.”

While rolling your eyes, you retorted back at him saying, “Ha, are you a moron? You’re speaking to a ‘tech nerd’. You even said that yourself, so don’t you ever forget that. Oh, wait… Really? Well, th-thanks, I guess…” From hearing the phone’s cool features, you enthusiastically took out the phone from its box and as you held it in your hands, you turned it on and began to set everything up on your new phone. It took about ten minutes of your time, going through your new phone with ease. Once you opened your “Contacts” there was already a contact saved in the list, which read “Yuzuru” on there.

Confused, you asked yourself, “Who’s Yuzuru?” [結弦]

“Me.”

Right away, your eyes shifted to Gun as your focus was now on him. You raised an eyebrow asking, “You’re Yuzuru? I thought your name is Jong Gun?”

“It’s my Japanese name. I used it because no one else knows about it except for you. Not even the Geniuses know about it. If anyone were to pick up your phone and see whoever is texting you, they won’t suspect that it’s me.”

Wait, he has a Japanese name? So he’s ACTUALLY Japanese? Well, that makes a lot of sense. His Japanese is very fluent, so he must be a native speaker. I wonder what’s his family name. Gosh, and I thought I knew a lot about him by now! I wonder what else he’s hiding. He’s such a mysterious man…

“Oh, okay. That makes sense. But why would you entrust your Japanese name to me?”

“It’s because I know you well by now, to know that you can be stupid sometimes. However, if you’re ‘smart’ enough, then I know for sure that you won’t be spilling my actual name to anyone. Unless, you want to suffer the consequences…”

That last part sent actual chills down your spine. Quickly, you shook your head and responded with, “No sir! I do not want to suffer the consequences.”

“Good.”

Both of you fell silent for the rest of the car ride home, as you managed to send Nurse Aya a text message since you kept her phone number on a piece of paper in your bag. Your text message stated:

“Hi Nurse Aya, this is (Y/N) Sasaki. I’m sorry if you tried to contact me on my old phone. Recently, I got a new phone since my old one broke. I finally managed to send the money to my mother. She’ll receive it in her bank account sometime soon. Once she gets it, then that money will immediately be used for her hospital bills. I already contacted the Doctor about it before I left for Korea, so he’s already familiar with my method of payment. I’ll hope to speak to my mother soon as well, so please let me know when is the perfect time to contact you back. As always, thank you for taking care of her and I hope you have a good day! 😊🙏🏽”

Now time to play the waiting game.

. . .

Eventually, the two of you arrived at the house. You took your leave first from the car as you had to wait for him outside of the front door of the house, since Gun needed to park the car into the garage. When you and Gun finally entered the house, Gun had some business-related work to do in his room regarding HNH Group so he told you not to disturb him, unless there was an emergency. While understanding the circumstances, you nodded as both of you retreated to your rooms. Before entering your room though, Gun made sure to tell you that you can just heat up something in the microwave as usual whenever it’s time for dinner, since he’ll probably eat later. You nodded, as you watched him continue onwards towards his room. When you see him shut his door behind him, you did the same as well.

Once you got inside your room, you crashed down onto your bed, letting out a huge tired exhale. While staring up at the ceiling, your mind started to run wild with a bunch of thoughts in your head.

Ugh, what a day. I’m glad that I got to send mom the money. At least now, I get to pay on time without having to worry about working constantly. That was grueling to even go through that. Now that I think about it, this place isn’t so bad. I haven’t really gotten the chance to appreciate this place until now. I’ve been staying in a nice house. Getting good meals at the right times. I’ve been going to different places where I’ve never even imagined of stepping foot in. All of this feels like a dream. However, I don’t want to think like that or else I might forget the real reason why I’m here. This is mainly because I needed the money. I needed the money to pay for my mom’s bills. I can’t afford to be greedy while I’m here. That isn’t right. Hm… I wonder if Nurse Aya saw my text yet. I better go check.

As you grabbed your new phone from your bag, you quickly checked to see if you were correct, and there it was:

“Hello Ms. (Y/N) Sasaki, it is very nice to hear from you again! And I’m sorry about what happened to your old phone, that must’ve been terrible. Yes, Doctor informed me about your method of payment and it is alright with me. When we receive your payment, we will double check to make sure that it’s all there. In the meantime, we’ll just have to wait for the money to be added into your mother’s bank account. And also, your mom has been sleeping a lot recently trying to recover herself every time she goes through therapy. So, I’ll let you know ASAP when she’s ready to be contacted. Until then, I’ll continue to look after your mother and I’ll continue to wish you good luck in your job over there in Korea! ☺️”

Whew, at least she got the message. I wonder what else I can do with this phone… Oh, right! I can finally contact Kouji and DG! You took out the little slip of paper with their phone numbers as well, as you started off by contacting Kouji. A single text message that was sent to him read:

“Hi Kouji, this is (Y/N)! I finally got a new phone. If you still need anything regarding the game or anything else, let me know! Or if you just wanted to chat, you can send a text message my way and I’ll be happy to reply anytime! 😄”

While waiting for Kouji’s response, you sent DG a message as well:

“Hello DG! This is (Y/N). I got a new phone recently, which is how I’m able to send you this text message. I’ll get to finally listen to your songs, so I look forward to listening to them while using this phone. And as I agreed, I’ll be sending you my thoughts on them too. I hope I’m not bothering you right now, I don’t want to disturb you while you might be working so I’ll talk to you later. Goodbye, and good luck at work! 😁”

Right when you successfully sent your message to DG, you got a notification from Kouji with a message that said:

“Finally!!! What took you so long? And you don’t have to text so formally on here. Tbh you sound like an old lady. 👵 An old lady creep who watches young boys’ computer screens from far away. 😬”

Ugh, this kid. Always saying such rude and annoying things right off the bat. Gun should honestly adopt him. They’d both be like father and son.

“Do you want my help or not? Just one push of the BLOCK button and I won’t be able to help you out. 😌”

A few seconds later, Kouji sent a GIF that shows this:

The GIF caused a laugh out of you as you continued to have this long and entertaining conversation with Kouji all night.

A week has gone by so quickly, as it was already Saturday. Although it was the end of the week, you were still responsible enough to continue to take those birth control pills that Dr. Ahn had prescribed you each day. From the box, the directions read that you just have to take a pill each day but it doesn’t have to be at the same time. However, it is highly recommended that you take it at the same time so that you wouldn’t forget and so you followed the recommendation. You put the pills on top of your bedside table, to remind yourself to take it right before you go to sleep. It was for your safety, in case “anything” happens. You never know. During the week, you were having frequent text messages with Kouji as he sent you articles of new game releases and gameplays of NewTubers who were already reviewing the trending games that were already out. Sometimes, he’d even send weird memes and shitposts to you on the side just to laugh about them. One day in that same week after you and Gun did the usual training session together, you were having lunch with him until suddenly you heard the notification ping from your phone. When you checked to see who the message was from, it was of course, from Kouji. He just sent you a meme of one of the games that you two were talking about from yesterday. He managed to make you laugh at how hilarious you thought it was, as you texted him back about how you felt from the meme he just sent. With the distracting dings from your phone, Gun who was quietly eating, was starting to get annoyed at your frequent text messages as he asked furiously, “(Y/N), can you put the damn phone away for once?! You’ve been at it for a few days now. Who the hell has been texting you so much that you have to immediately respond to them every time they send you a text?”

Feeling guilty from Gun’s outrage, you finally set it down as you looked down at your plate then said, “Sorry… it was just Kouji. He and I have been talking about this new PC game that just released and we became fans of it.”

Gun sighed saying, “Good grief. Over a fucking game? Well, you did mention that you were interested in games before. For some reason, I thought you meant outdoor games or board games. But either way, you guys are so childish.”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“As if I even want to get it. I don’t see the appeal of having to play games on the computer all the time. I would rather just work.”

“Well good for you. At least you have a hobby that you like, so go ahead and stick to that.” Annoyed, you decided to get up and clean your own side of the table before taking your phone with you and storming off to your room without even saying a word to him, leaving Gun to sit at the table alone. Vexed by your attitude, he muttered to himself, “What the hell is her problem nowadays? Ever since I got her that phone, it’s like she’s been addicted to it. Nonstop texting and shit, as if I’m not even here at all. I shouldn’t have gotten her that damn phone. Tch, what a fucking joke.”

After that day, Gun gave you rigorous amount of training throughout that week. The treatment became much harsher as he gave you nonstop, fight after fight after fight. You were forced to get up every time you finished a fight, as he made you duel with him an extra time. Whenever he does this, you would protest because it was already lunch time and your body was already tired, but he would just ignore your refusals. He didn’t care if you were starving at that point. He just wanted to see you suffer, for those days that you had put him through of not being able to look at him properly. Not being able to exchange words with him as often as you used to. It pissed him off every time your attention was somewhere else, and he hated that ridiculous feeling. As his movements during the fights became even more intense, you were surprised that you’ve managed to even LIVE through those exhausting fights. Whenever the training sessions would finally end, you’d always collapse on the ground panting while sweating buckets as Gun would just leave you there without letting you know that he’d be taking his leave. His actions altogether made you question yourself why he’s been acting like that recently.

When Saturday finally came around, Gun decided to teach Aikido on that day since he mentioned to you before, during that week, that he needed someone to help him demonstrate how to properly pull the move. While lecturing this time, he told you to stand up as he guided where your hands needed to be placed and how to properly position your form, with his own hands. As he was doing so, your cheeks couldn’t help but feel flushed from just the small physical contact that he was giving you. “Aikido was created as a form of self defense and it’s all about learning how to disarm someone by using their own attack momentum to your advantage. It’s a Japanese martial art that does not involve much harm, since it mainly focuses on getting the right grip while doing it softly. Although, it does comprise of grappling and joint locking. You need to know how to properly throw someone off balance and how to lock their joints to the point that they’re restricted from using their own hands to attack back. Positioning of one’s hand onto someone’s arm and how fast you can accurately act upon it can disrupt their stance as well. However, you don’t have to defend by just using their arm. It can be in other places where they are vulnerable, like the back of their neck but that’s just another option. Remember that if you do it correctly by controlling your breathing and by physically handling your opponent the right way, then you won’t have any problems by flipping them over with ease.”

During his lesson, all you thought about was how close you were to him and how much he was touching you directly, even if it was mostly your hands and arms. You did manage to listen to him though, which was a shock since you were a blushing mess.

Ughhh when is the demonstration going to happen? I don’t know how much more I can take from this…

Saved by the bell! From the front door of the house, you heard the door bell rang once. Then a few times. Which then turned to an extreme amount of times, as the rings were beginning to sound like sirens going off. In response, Gun’s face turned to a mean scowl, as he let go of your hands and angrily strolled towards the door to get it. When he opened the door, Gun was greeted by the sight of his co-worker, Joon Goo Kim.

“Gun, what took you so long and why aren’t you dressed yet?! Our ride is already waiting for us outside!”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What the hell do you ‘know’, huh? I was expecting you to be all dressed, you bastard! You know how Charles would get mad if we don’t show up on time! That old man can be such a fucking pain to deal with. I mean, come on. Who does he really think he is sometimes, the president of South Korea?! […]”

As he walked inside Gun’s house, Gun’s sanity was starting to decline from Goo’s unstoppable rants. In a way, Gun knew that Goo would be coming to pick him up as he thought of this as a perfect time to demonstrate to you on how Aikido is actually done. Gun started to walk towards the backyard, as Goo followed behind him while blabbering away about Charles Choi and the annoying things that Charles would assign them to do most of the time. From outside the backyard, you could hear someone’s voice coming from inside but you knew right away that it wasn’t Gun’s voice, but Goo’s. When both of them reached the backyard, you caught sight of Goo who was dressed formally in a matching fancy dark grey Tom Ford suit and pants combo, while wearing a black tie. He even got fancy dark brown leather dress shoes on, that were polished nicely. You assumed that Goo was here to pick up Gun for the HNH Group party for today, as you watched them. Gun led the way towards you while he let Goo go off on whatever he was ranting about from behind him. When Gun stopped right in front of you, he announced to you as he said, “Watch closely (Y/N). THIS is how you do it properly.” Gun turned around on his side to give you a better view of his stance and how he positions himself, grabbing onto Goo’s arm all of a sudden before grappling him with such speedy gracefulness.

“[…] I don’t know what’s gotten into his head lately? Does he even know how often we tried to do his bidding for him? It’s fucking annoying. I don’t understand why he couldn’t just do it himself since he’s that stro- WOOAAAHHH!!!”

While observing Gun’s demonstration, your eyes widened at how swiftly Gun flipped Goo over with just a flick of his wrist. It happened so quickly that you didn’t even see him exert any effort into that Aikido technique that he just pulled. When Gun took Goo’s wrist into his hand, he pulled it enough for Goo’s center of balance to break. Then, Gun tossed Goo in a swift roll, leaving Goo to fall on his back. At the same time, it was like watching a scene in slow motion, as Goo slowly fell onto the ground with his back impacting the grass first. With a thud, Goo lightly groaned on the ground, still trying to process what just happened. Gun gave a satisfied sneer at the sight of Goo finally shutting up from his annoying tirade. As Gun’s eyes met with yours, he said, “I’ll go and get dressed. We’ll continue this tomorrow, so just remember my words and remember what I showed you today.” With an understanding nod, he let you go, making his way back inside the house to get ready for the party. Now, your focus was on Goo who was still laying on his back on the floor, lifeless.

Is he okay? Should I lend him a hand?

“Um, Goo? Are you alright…? Do you need help?”

Goo didn’t answer as his body continued to stay there, motionlessly. Worried, you began to think if Gun had probably knocked him out or something. The poor guy must’ve accidentally hit his head on the ground, hard enough for him to pass out on the spot.

Oh no… I think Gun went a bit overboard with that flip. What should I do? Should I call him over here? But what if he ACTUALLY killed Goo on accident??? Does that mean Gun will end up in jail?! But if that happens, is he going to make me help him dispose of the body?! What if he makes me drag Goo’s body over to the Han River at night and then dump it?! Is he going to force me to be quiet?!

As you started to hyperventilate, you tried to take deep breaths. Big inhales and exhales was the way to go to prevent yourself from getting consumed by your own panic.

Okay, okay, (Y/N). Just stay calm! I need to make sure that he’s still alive. I need to check his pulse first…

Stealthily, you tip-toed around Goo’s body as you saw that his eyes were closed. Once you stopped right in front of him, you crouched on your knees then reached two fingers over his neck to check his pulse. Right when your hand barely reached his neck, a hand suddenly grabbed your wrist, making you jump and shriek loudly from the unanticipated grab.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

The unexpected touch caused you to lose your balance and fall backwards, landing on your butt with a hard thud. You winced from the pain that you felt on your bum, in which you heard a laugh in front of you. Your eyes followed the voice of whoever was laughing hysterically. When they have stopped at that person’s caricature, you deducted that the person who was responsible for your fall was none other than Goo. He was hugging his stomach while rolling on the floor laughing at your reaction to his prank.

“God, that was so fucking funny! I didn’t think you’d react like that, (Y/N)! But, hey, my bad…” You were too stunned to even reply to him, as you watched him get up on his own, brushing off the grass from his fancy outfit in the process. Out of nowhere, you heard the backyard’s sliding door slam open, as Gun came rushing into the yard already dressed in his brand new midnight black Dior suit. It came as a matching set with the smoothed out pants. Over his suit, was a long black wool Dior coat which went well with his suit. There weren’t any wrinkles on the clothing that he was wearing either, which was appropriate for his formal party attire. The suit that he had on had a breast pocket, in which a small gold chain was hanging on his left side, from within his pocket. With his suit was a wine colored tie, that displays his refined tastes. Underneath his suit, was his usual white collared long sleeved shirt. In each end of his suit sleeve, were gold “LV” cuff links, which exudes a classy aura from him. Around his right wrist was a gold Rolex watch, with real diamonds encrusted around the rim that glistened underneath the sunlight. The fancy shoes that he was wearing were new black leather dress shoes, which were more polished and had pointier tips than his original pair. His hair was styled nicely, complimenting his handsome features that were already attractive as they were. He managed to comb his hair back, creating a slicked back hairstyle by also lathering it with gel to make his hair stay like that throughout the day. Gun looked like a suave movie star, especially with those black shades on. As he rushed into the scene, you caught a strong whiff of the scent of his expensive Dior Sauvage cologne. Everything about him was perfect to the last detail and everything about his appearance made his aura stand out even more, captivating you unintentionally with his powerful physique. However, this wasn’t the time to marvel at him.

“(Y/N)!!! WHAT HAPPENED?!”

Goo waved at Gun as he said in a cheerful way, “Gun! You’re looking pretty snazzy in your suit. I guess we’re ready to go now! Let’s get going befo-” Goo was surprisingly interrupted by Gun’s fist that was drilled into his stomach. Goo staggered a few steps back from Gun’s impact, as he snickered at the sight of Gun glowering at him with a face of clear indignation. “Gun, you didn’t have to be so violent…” Gun kept his fist clenched, as he said in a low wrathful tone, “The hell did you do, Goo? I heard (Y/N) scream, and now she’s on the ground? You better give me a good fucking explanation for the shit you just did, or else I’m going to have to murder you…” Goo coughed up a bit of blood into his hand due to the heavy blow to his stomach, which did not cease that smirk on his face. “My, my, you can be quite the monster. Already throwing hands right before the party? I was hoping to do it afterwards, but you’re giving me no choice here…”

While watching the both of them in front of you, you could feel the palm of your hands sweat. Your heart was already beating rapidly due to the worrisome ordeal that’s about to go down if you don’t stop them somehow.

Crap… what should I do? This is starting to get out of hand! Why did Gun have to punch Goo in the stomach? Alright, that’s it. I need to get up. Come on (Y/N), let’s… go!

Gun was starting to crack his knuckles, preparing himself to beat Goo with every ounce of bloodlust that he had. Goo was just standing there with his hands in his pockets with a smug look shown on his face, like he was inviting him to attack first. While struggling to get up as quickly as possible, you kept your eyes on both of them to make sure that they haven’t begun fighting each other. Finally, you were on your feet. Your legs were a little off-centered, but that’s fine. At least you were ready to stop them from continuing on with their little showdown. Gun stretched his dominant arm outwards from behind him, as he taunted Goo. “Are you ready to get fucked?” Goo gave a snarky chuckle as he replied back to Gun saying, “That sounds very dirty, Gun. Have you no shame at all? Saying such things right in front of (Y/N) like that.” Gun gave a scornful laugh, almost amused by Goo’s endless jokes till the end. “Even when you’re about to get beaten shitless, you’re still joking. You better not regret your actions now…” As Gun pulled out his fist ready to strike Goo, you abruptly appeared right next to him as you grabbed onto Gun’s muscular arm from behind while yelling out, “NOOO!!!” The both of them were taken by surprise, watching you hold onto Gun’s arm as tightly as you could. Gun’s threatening gaze met with your desperate eyes as you tried to tug his arm away from Goo. “(Y/N), let go of me. I need to beat this guy’s ass for a change…” You shook your head in a disobediant way while saying, “Don’t, please! He didn’t do anything wrong! It was just a prank! I just reacted naturally by screaming! It’s not even that serious…” Gun’s face softened as he slowly brought his arm down. He turned around to face you, asking directly, “Is that true?” Without hesitation, you nodded your head right away. Gun looked at you with a stern expression, checking to see if you were telling the truth. You seemed to be alright with it, so he decided to let the situation go. On the other hand, Goo was a bit surprised to see Gun pacified just by your words. This only fueled his mischievous side even more, seeing that you had Gun somewhat under your spell. It’s just that you didn’t even realize it.

Without hesitation, Gun started walking back inside the house saying, “We don’t want to be late to the party, so let’s go.” Goo’s face transitioned to an agitated expression before chasing after Gun while shouting, “Hey, wait for me! I was the one who said to go in the first place!!!” When the two of them made it inside, you exerted a great big sigh of relief from managing to stop them from fighting.

Whew, what a relief. I don’t know what would have happened if I didn’t jump in there to stop them. They could have seriously injured each other or WORSE… they could have beaten each other to death.

Picturing them inflicting pain and immense violence onto each other made you tremble at the spot. You weren’t going to let that thought concern you any further, as you realized that you needed to see them off. Speedily, you entered the house before closing the sliding door behind you. Eventually, you caught up to them at the front of the door about to head out. Goo was still butt-hurt that he hasn’t received an apology from Gun for overreacting to what happened at the backyard. “Gun, I deserve a proper apology. You just punched me without even talking it out! Like come on man, that’s not what bros do!” Gun was at the verge of strangling Goo by the neck but he was keeping his cool together, just because he’s aware that you’re still there with them. While ignoring Goo, he made his way towards you then stopped right in front of you. His eyes looked down into yours saying in his usual informative tone, “I’ll be leaving now. I won’t be there for too long. Only a few hours. While I’m out, remember my rules. The food for today’s lunch is in the fridge so just get it and and heat it up. And if there’s an emergency, call or text me if you need anything.” You gave an affirmative nod, letting him know that you got every last bit of his instruction. “Oh, and one more thing…” He leaned in closer to you then whispered, “There’s something in your room that’s worth checking.” After whispering those words to you, he turned around instantly leaving you in such a confused state.

What did he mean by that?

From behind, you followed Gun and Goo out the door like a mother seeing her own children out. While watching them walk out the door, you waved at them with a bright smile, giving your upbeat goodbyes. “Bye! I hope you guys, um… have fun!” Gun turned his head around to give you one last glance as he jeered, muttering to himself, “Who does she think we are, five?” Goo gave you a wave back as he yelled out loud, “Bye (Y/N), I hope your butt is okay!” From hearing Goo’s goodbye, Gun shot Goo a nasty glare as he asked in a threatening way, “What the hell did you mean by that?” Goo snickered at Gun’s dangerous tone, as he told him, “Now you’re just thinking wrong. I didn’t do anything to her butt, so you don’t have to worry about it. And if you keep scowling like that, you’ll get wrinkles at such a young age, Gun. You’re already blessed with an attractive face, so don’t ruin it along with your body.” That’s it. Gun decided to ignore Goo for the whole entire time that they’re together since he cannot stand him without having a huge urge to hit him. As the two of them got in the car, you still stood there, waving them goodbye. When the car finally left the driveway and was out of sight, you then closed the door behind you.

Now that they’re gone, I might as well see what he was talking about.

Your feet headed straight for the stairs since you decided to go to your room to see what Gun was referring to. Right when you made it to your room, your eyes couldn’t believe what you were seeing on your bed.

Wha- … What the hell is all this for?!

On your bed were loads of shopping bags that belonged to expensive clothing brands. On the biggest bag, was a sticky note that caught your attention. You removed it from the front of the bag as you read it to yourself:

“Get ready, and dress up in these. It’s not definite that I might be back sooner than I expect, so anticipate my return to be in the next five hours. I even got you makeup and other beauty products, so be grateful and use it wisely. Don’t make yourself look like a clown. I’ll pick you up right when I come back.”

While reading his note, your heart started to beat heavily through your chest, conflicted on what to even think or say about all of this.

What the hell? Why did he give all of these to me? There’s way too much stuff! Like, how can I even accept all of these?! I don’t even know how to use makeup, and he expects me NOT to look like a clown?! Ha, please! I’m starting to think that this man is trying to get all of my money. But wait a minute. So all of those bags he was carrying last week… were they mostly for me? How the hell will I even pay him back now, if he keeps gifting me stuff?! UGH, HE’S SUCH A PAIN!!!

You crumpled the note in your hand, squeezing it out of frustration. A tactical grin formed on your lips, laughing at the challenge that he had just dumped on you. “Fine. If you want to be like that, then you better expect that I’ll be paying you back fully, Jong Gun Park.” Eventually, you’ve rummaged through every bag that you had. Among the bags, you found a long silk black bustier evening dress with a backless hole that goes all the way down to your waist from behind while the back of your dress was only held together by one small strap centered on the back, like a bralette. The dress was held up and connected from the back of your neck by a long black fabric that was meant to be draped down, along both sides of your shoulders from the front. The front of the dress displays how strapless it was, with its top half designed to have horizontal silk folds sewn together. On your left breast was a small gold Chanel symbol pinned on there, which shows off its luxuriousness. However, the bottom half displayed to be tight, as the purpose for its style was to show off your curves until it smoothed out to a finishing drapery, flowing loosely at the bottom near your feet. Altogether, it was a beautiful vintage dress, which was a rare dress of its kind. The dress was bought from Chanel, coming from the tag that you saw on it. Behind the tag, you took a peek at what the price of the dress was and… Oh Lord. That’s a lot of zeros. Frozen from shock, you shook your head to snap yourself out of the discouraging thoughts that could lower your self esteem of ever paying him back. Overall, you thought the dress was WAY too revealing, and it made you uncomfortable to even wear such a thing in public. In a way, this made you question what Gun was really thinking, buying you a dress like this. However, knowing him, he’ll still make you wear it since he was the one who paid for it in the first place. You moved onto different accessories from the bags as you took out a box from a second bag.

Oh my god. Don’t tell me…

And indeed, it was. When you saw a shoe box that displayed in bold letters, “SAINT LAURENT”, you opened it to see a pair of leather black and gold colored stilettos. Each shoe had a gold heel that was about four inches tall. The heels were intricately designed with it’s signature “YSL” symbol at the bottom, marking its brand. And above each shoe, were two thin leather straps. One that wrapped around a leg right above your ankle, and the other strap located at the base of your feet, right behind the start of your toes. While observing one shoe in your hand, you looked at it dumbstruck due to the first impression of what these heels gave you. You still couldn’t believe that you were holding such expensive shoes, that could possibly be worth your whole apartment rent back home in Japan. Once you decided to put them to the side, you went through the rest of the things that Gun had given. While checking the rest of the bags, you found a black leather Chanel handbag with a gold chain as its strap and its gold symbol displayed on its front. With the bag inside of it, was a pair of gold Chanel earrings that had the Chanel symbol dangling from small gold chains and a gold necklace that had a pendant of the actual word of “Chanel” hanging from a thin stringed chain. Another shopping bag had loads of makeup products that came from popular brands, including brushes, makeup palettes, liquid eye makeup, and spray bottles of liquids for whatever purpose.

God, he got me the WHOLE SET. What even is this? “Primer”? “Foundation”? The only thing I know from here is lipstick. What the hell do each of these even do for my face? And- oh god…

You reached deeper into the bag full of makeup until you felt a long thin box. Once your hand grabbed onto it, you pulled it out of the bag to reveal a flat iron, for styling hair.

Wow… just, wow. You REALLY outdid yourself this time, Gun Park. Geez, I still can’t believe this. What is his motive for buying me these things? And what did I do to deserve all of this? He’s being awfully nice all of a sudden. I can’t figure this man out.

You had no choice, but to get yourself ready for whatever plans he had for you later. Over the span of those five hours, you decided to bring everything that Gun had bought for you, as you locked yourself in your bathroom to fix yourself up. After taking a shower, you decided to do your makeup. You didn’t know where to even start, so you decided to go on NewTube to search for a makeup tutorial fit for the event of the evening. With all the makeup products that you had and your flat iron, you tried your best to follow whatever the makeup artist was doing on your phone screen. With a dab of foundation, blending of colors and sparkling palettes on your face, and the application of fake eyelashes with other eye makeup, you managed to somehow pull it off. The only thing that was delaying your makeup application was the eyelash curler, which scared you a bit. That contraption hurt at first since you accidentally shut it on your eyelid, making you flinch. It hurt a bit, but that wasn’t going to stop you from finishing what you just started. Once your look was almost finished, you took a short break by exhaling deeply from how tiring that was. It wasn’t as perfect as the makeup artist who did it in that makeup tutorial, but it was decent enough to pass. The way you did your makeup was a natural look, with shades of light coral and pink. With the finishing touches of those fake natural lashes, mascara, wine colored lipstick, blush, and highlighter, you finally sprayed your face with a liquid bottle that said “Setting Spray”. And with that, your face was transformed into a You that you could barely even recognize.

Wow, so this is what Jugyeong Lim felt when she did her makeup in True Beauty. It really does change your appearance into a different person, despite how heavy my face feels right now from how caked it is. Aw man, what time is it? I forgot to check the time!

When you checked the time on your phone, it was barely a minute till three in the afternoon. Luckily, your hair was already dry and you still had time to fix it up.

Alright! Makeup, done. Now hair…

You had to search for another tutorial on how to use the flat iron. You didn’t want to curl your hair, so you decided to just stick to the basics and use it for straightening your hair. From the tutorial that you watched, you had to plug it into the electric wall socket and leave your flat iron there for about ten minutes for it to heat. During that time, you decided to walk out of the bathroom real quick to get a few hair ties, your brush, and your comb. When you’ve returned, it was time to begin with the straightening. You followed the tutorial by spraying your hair with a heat protectant, which will help prevent heat damage to your hair. Next, by taking a piece of your hair from the rest, you tied a bunch of parts of your hair into small sections to easily separate each part for styling. This technique really did work, as it helps you know which part had already been ironed. Starting from the bottom sections, you clamped the heating iron down a piece of your hair close to your scalp, as you slowly glided it down to the tip of your hair which resulted in a silky yet smooth part of hair. You continued to do this for about forty-five minutes, until you’ve gotten every piece done. Once you’ve finished ironing your hair, you got a serum bottle of Argan Hair Oil, taking a bit of it into your hand and applying it from the tips of your hair while working your way up towards your scalp. The purpose for this, as stated by the NewTuber in the tutorial, was another serum that protects your hair while also making it look shiny and smooth. After putting on the oil, you combed your hair by parting your hair through the middle, then smoothed it out to finalize your entire look. With your makeup and hair done, you’re finally ready to dress into the clothing that Gun got for you. You managed to put on the jewelry, the shoes, and the bag on, but it was just the dress that you had trouble with. You couldn’t really pull on it yourself since you had shorter arms than you thought you would, which made you groan in frustration from the struggles of putting on this dress.

Dammit! I can’t reach it! Ah geez, I need to hurry up! Quickly, before he-

A notification dinged from your phone, as it said that you got a text message from “Yuzuru”. When you checked to see what it said, it read:

“I’m on my way home and will be there in 5 min. Be ready when I get there.”

No, no, no, no, no, no!!! I’m not ready yet! Urgh- curse this stupid dress! Why do I have to wear this thing in the first place?! This dress should have a zipper on the side instead, or something easier to pull on!

You sent him a thumbs up emoji, while you start to panic in the bathroom. Many thoughts were going off in your head, as you asked yourself if you should just go out with the strap detached or just say that you couldn’t go by pretending to be sick. You couldn’t even put anything over your dress since you didn’t have any sweaters or coats that would go with your outfit. This was an important decision to make and you’re running out of time.

All of a sudden, while still struggling to put on your dress properly, you heard the loud beep from the front door opening outside as Gun called you from downstairs. “(Y/N), I’m back! Let’s go!” When you heard his voice, you left the bathroom and opened the bedroom door as you shouted, “Just one moment!” before continuing to attempt to connect the strap once more. Gun waited for you downstairs for five additional minutes, until he decided to head upstairs to see what’s been taking you so long. When he made it in front of your door, he gave it a few knocks as he yelled from behind it. “(Y/N)! What the hell is taking you so long to get ready?! You better open the door, or else I’m coming in the-” He didn’t expect you to open the door so suddenly, as you only gave it a slight crack open. He could only see a part of your face from behind the door when you whispered to him, “P-please, give me a few more minutes. I’ll be done by then.” When you were about to close the door on his face, Gun grabbed onto the door knob to stop you from closing the door on him as he said in a sinister tone, “Move.” Scared from his demanding tone, you backed away from the door, allowing him to enter the room.

The gaze of Jong Gun Park made you feel weak as he stared down at you with such a serious expression. His eyes scanned your entire body. Starting from your head, down to your dress, and eventually to your shoes. Every inch and every detail that he took of you was interpreted as absolutely perfect. He still couldn’t believe how gorgeous you were in his eyes. Such elegance, with a hint of sexiness. You’re a woman so breath-taking, that he had to control himself from pinning you onto the bed behind you for him to do such irresistible things to you. Gun still finds it rare to see you dressed in rich clothing such as this, and to see your face and hair done just because of him. However, regardless if you did your makeup or dressed up more properly today, you were still beautiful to him even if you didn’t try to improve your appearance. He thought that now wasn’t the appropriate time to think about such thoughts, which made him focus back on what the issue was at hand. “You look fine to me, so what’s the problem?” You averted your eyes from him, looking off to the side with a light flush of scarlet beginning to display itself onto your cheeks, making them even more rosier than usual. “I-it’s… the strap.” Gun was puzzled at first, asking, “What strap?” You started to fiddle with your fingertips nervously, saying in a soft whisper, “The strap… on my back… c-can you… help… me?” It took a second for Gun to figure out what you were talking about until he snickered before commanding you to “Turn around.” for him. Obediently, you did as you were told, as you slowly yet bashfully, turned around for him to face yourself towards the direction of your bed. Gun swept your hair gently off to the side of your left shoulder. His eyes started to trail down your exposed back, as he stared at your clear skin. The last time he laid eyes on your back was that one time when he did you on the couch. It was tempting to reminisce those memories, while he fumbled with your back strap from behind. While he was trying to attach one side of the strap to the other, you couldn’t help but blush madly at what was currently going on.

Is this real? Am I dreaming? Geez, this is so embarrassing! I can’t believe that I had to ask him for help just for him to do this. Ugh, when did it suddenly get hot all of a sudden? And what is even happening right now???

At that moment, it was like your vision was seeing swirls. You could feel your body starting to heat up from how close Gun was to you. Was it his body heat affecting you? You couldn’t tell. You could even feel your heartbeat booming deep inside your chest. That deep “lub dub” tune was all you heard through your ears, from how tense you felt. Once you felt his hands finally release the strap on your back, you assumed that he was done attaching the strap onto your dress. You turned your head around to thank him with gratitude saying, “Thanks Gun, I don’t know what I’d do without-” However, when you turned your head around, you stopped midway as his face was already in front of you, due to him leaning in close to you from behind. With a concerned demeanor on your face, you asked, “Gun? Is there something wrong?” All of a sudden, you felt Gun’s hand graze down your exposed back softly, earning a soft gasp from you. The touch from his hand was like a feather running lightly onto your skin, making you tingle. His hand continued to slide down your spine, as it made its way down to your hip, and then onto your ass. You felt his other hand hold onto your other hip, as he started to rub your ass with his busy hand in such a sensual way. The friction of the cloth rubbing against your ass from the movement of his hand was enough to cause you to emit a few moans from your mouth, in which you immediately had to cover your mouth to hide them. While he was doing this to you, you glanced at his eyes, and you could have sworn that his eyes were now filled with pure lust. With a breathy whisper, he said into your ear, “You’re a real temptress, (Y/N). Tempting me like this, knowing that you’re too irresistible to do this to. You’re really wearing this dress that I picked out for you, just for me, right? I know that you could’ve refused this in the first place, yet you decided to wear this in front of me. How bold of you…”

From Gun’s sultry talk, you already know that the evening that’s ahead of you, will just have to wait. There’s no chance that the grasp that he had on you would soon release, now making you regret ever asking him for help.

Oh god, what have I done?

[End of Ch. IX]

#lookism #lookism fanfic #lookism x reader #lookism x y/n #lookismaddict #lookism webtoon #gun park #park jonggun #lookism gun #park jonggun lookism #gun park lookism #gun park x reader #jonggun x reader #lookism jonggun #goo kim

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tixdixl · 6 months

Note

5, 17 and 18 for OC Relationship asks!!

Thank you so much for the ask! Since you didn't specify which ship, I am going to answer based on what feels most appropriate. Hope that's ok!

5 - What's something they like to do together?

Oisín and Lilia: They are what I like to call my adventure duo, because they are willing to go and try things and experiment and explore and adventure, but the most important thing is that they are doing it together. Some additional things they love: they dance together; they parallel play on nights when Lilia is gaming online; they love startling and spooking the shit out of each other too. They just... love to be with each other.

Emil and Trey: Cooking. Their entire friendship and relationship started because of cooking unironically. Plus it's an important part of Emil's culture and Trey's daily life as vice-housewarden.

17 - Who steals whose clothes? Does their S/O mind?

Oisín and Lilia: Lilia steals Oisín's clothes, and Oisín finds it incredibly endearing.

René and Rook: I think René would try to steal Rook's clothes, but actually, Vil would absolutely have a say in it and it wouldn't fly at all lol.

18 - They've had a major blowout. How do they handle it?

So, I admittedly am still working on fleshing both of these out, so major conflict hasn't truly been sorted yet? But I think we could include Overblot as a major blowout? I think that counts, so that's what I'm going with.

Emil and Trey: Emil incredibly remorseful and guilty after he's had time to sit with it and realize the harm he's done. He does have a good cry over it, but once he's cried, he does properly apologize and openly admit that Trey was right.

René and Rook: Oh, boy... This one is a doozy. I'm still sorting this one out cause I literally just determined they would become a ship in a polycule like... 2 days ago. So, I mean as it currently stands, Rook does apologize to them twice for things. But on René's end, they have been having a hard time not just beating themself up for things and accepting that they deserve harsh treatment? I think it's going to turn into a lot of hard conversations mixed with follow up actions? I'm not sure. We'll see where this goes.

Tag list: @simons-twsted-children @ramshacklerumble @inmateofthemind @cyanide-latte @elenauaurs (let me know if you want to be added!)

#twst ocs #twst #oc ask prompts #oc ask game #my ocs #oc x canon #shipping asks #Oisín Anbás #Emil Lehr #René Lamar #Seris talks

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nehswritesstuffs · 9 days

Text

A Bad Walk and An Even Worse Time

Sometimes I wonder why in the hell I write something and this is one of those times, lol

5176 words; shoutout to the dude who I saw regular golfing on the way home once in full Luffy cosplay (and shoutout to the club for letting him in lol); I’m overdue for a full-on sports AU but take this instead; apologies in advance at golf of all things but you know how it is; your mileage may vary at some of the relationships I’ve thrown in here but I also vary on them so no worries; related to the Adventures with the Denizens of 1000 Sunny Rd. series, which you don't need to necessarily read to understand this one (for reference, the other fics are here [FFN], here [FFN], and here [FFN] as well) just know it's a modern Midwestern-ish AU where LawNa is an established thing and the Sunny is a sus af party house

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

For what it was worth, Zoro did not usually get terribly upset. A little cranky? Of course. That was almost expected when most of his sleep came from naps and the fact his adoptive pains-in-the-ass were always on his case about shit. “Zozo, you need to bathe more” and “Zoro, you need to consider a career instead of a job” and “why are you no longer cute, Zozo” filled the time he was with his family, which explained why he was at 1000 Sunny Rd. most days. The rest of the people lurking around the Sunny knew that if he chose to suffer through an extended period of Nami’s nagging with the rest of them, it was bound to be a doozy at home he was avoiding between his creepy vampire adoptive dad and the shrill, high-maintenance banshee that he was supposed to refer to as his sister.

Except this time, what he was avoiding had been tasked to him.

“Ah, fuck,” he cussed as he checked his phone. Zoro threw it across the living room and into a far couch, which was not normal for him. He sulked over towards the kitchen island and slumped down on a chair, hiding in his hoodie.

“What the fuck’s up with you, mossbrains?” Sanji frowned. He didn’t like Zoro being there for too long, especially since he was going on his fourth day of no showering, for the love of food safety…

“Mihawk wants me to put together a couple foursomes and he keeps bugging me about it,” Zoro grunted. Usopp and Franky both exchanged cautious looks from either side of the island, food stuffed in their mouths—Mihawk wanted what…?!

“You… uh… gonna elaborate on that, bro?” Franky wondered cautiously. Zoro was silent on the matter, only looking up when Sanji put a protein shake in front of him.

“It’s golf, right?” the blond asked. Zoro nodded silently and waited for Sanji to place a silicone straw in the shake before taking it and drinking while sulking some more. Usopp laughed nervously, almost relieved.

“Why on earth would Mihawk want you to get a bunch of people together to play golf?” he wondered. “Doesn’t golf involve, like, you know, being outside? I thought that was the exact opposite of his thing.”

“It’s his main form of being outside,” Zoro complained, “and there’s a charity circle-jerk and he promised to bring people.”

“That would involve him having friends,” Sanji noted, “which is something he lacks while his son has in spades.”

“Well, I’m glad it’s just golf, but you’re gonna have to count me out,” Franky said. “Golf is a no-go for me—I’ve been banned from courses in the area for being too super of a guy.”

“You’ve been banned from golf courses?” Usopp wrinkled his nose in thought. “Wait… which ones?”

Franky simply grinned as he took a sip of his pop. Okay. Fine. Keep your secrets.

“Does Mihawk know what he’s asking for though?” Sanji asked. “I mean… it’s us we’re talking about.”

“What are you talking about, Sanji-kun?” The guys all looked to find that Nami and Robin had both walked into the kitchen-living room area, a freshly-rescued-from-med-school Chopper right behind them.

“Oh, nothing to worry about my dears,” Sanji crooned as he set snacks down for the newcomers. “Marimo here is just complaining about his old man making him do shit for once.”

“If it’s golf, then you can count on me,” Usopp bragged. “Why, I was winning pro-am tournaments when I was just a little kid! Had to drop it because they kept barring me from competing, but I’m sure they will have forgotten the ban by now!” Chopper’s eyes glinted in admiration as he sucked down his milk.

“Golf…?” Nami raised her eyebrow critically. “What possessed the brooding vampire-goth man to get into golf of all things?”

“High SPFs, umbrellas, and business bullshit that apparently only happens on the course,” Zoro grumbled. He finished off his protein shake and handed the glass back to Sanji as he sat upright. “I don’t know anyone who fucking golfs! How am I going to get seven people who golf just to please his prissy ass?!”

“Well, you already got Usopp,” Franky noted, “and Robin’s not been banned like me.”

“This is true—I worked a few odd jobs growing up, and one of them was as a caddy—it helped get me a scholarship for college.”

“A golf scholarship?”

“No,” Robin replied, her smile unknowable. Usopp shuddered—he had to ask, didn’t he?

“I’ll do it if Robin’s doing it,” Nami agreed. It was then that Sanji came out from behind the counter in a flurry of emotion, taking the redhead’s hand and kissing the back of it.

“If Nami-swan and Robin-chan are participating, then I will too~!” he crooned. “We can be in a group together!”

“He just wants to see them in short skirts, doesn’t he?” Usopp mused aloud. Zoro nodded in agreement, which got both of them lumps on the head courtesy of the chef. The three became so involved in fighting that they didn’t even notice that someone else walked into the conversation, interest immediately piqued.

“Shishishishi—I’m in!”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was a few days later and most of the Straw Hats were at a putt-putt adventure golf course after-hours, the guy who ran the thing owing Luffy a favor or five. How that was the case, no one wanted to know, but they were going to take advantage of it anyhow. Usopp stood at a chalkboard near the entrance; usually the board was filled with upcoming events and birthday wishes for parties coming through, but this time it was filled with equations and graphs that he drew up on the spot from the golfing theory book he had open in his hand.

“If we’re going to win this thing, it’s going to involve a lot of finesse and concentrating on how our bodies move,” he said to a… less than receptive audience. While Robin seemed interested enough, Zoro and Sanji were about to fight (again), Nami seemed bored, and Luffy and Brook were too distracted by the moths beginning to flap about the lights.

“You just asked a bunch of people who don’t math to do math,” Nami pointed out. Usopp knew she was right—the two of them did math all the time, while it seemed like a foreign concept to most of the others. “You’re at least following, right, Robin?”

“My areas of expertise involve the humanities, mainly history, sociology, and anthropology, so I’m following as closely as I can,” Robin admitted. A chill ran down Nami and Usopp’s spines—if they lost Robin, they were doomed. “We’re mainly here to work on our putting, which is something that trips up even the most skilled of professionals, as the amount of force and aim required needs to be precise in order to sink the ball.”

Usopp let out a breath of relief—thank fuck someone was taking this seriously.

“I’m precise,” Zoro claimed. “I’m so fucking precise I can wipe the floor with this asshole.”

“Wipe the floor?!” Sanji scoffed. “Do you even know how to golf?!”

“Yeah! You hit the ball and get it in the hole! You’re not the only one who suffered through rich kid bullshit, Swirls!”

“Oh, don’t even go there!”

“Or what?! You’ll try to throw your daddy issues around?! Like I care!”

“Ladies, please,” Usopp deadpanned. “We all know you both know how to play golf. This meeting is to make sure that we all practice our putting, short game, and all the more scientific parts of the game in order to prevent a case of the yips. The only one of us who doesn’t know what any of this is…” He looked off to the side, with the others following his line of vision.

That’s right. Luffy.

“Hey everyone, look at this neat bug I found!” Luffy grinned. He went over towards the rest of his friends with his hands cupped together; Sanji and Nami both hid behind Zoro in anticipation, while Robin and Brook simply chuckled.

“That’s very nice, Luffy,” Usopp frowned, “but what are you going to do about the golf tournament we’re helping Zoro not ruin? You need to be paying attention so you know the rules.”

“Oh, those; they’re boring.” Usopp hit his own face with his palm out of frustration. “It sounds like it’s all made up anyhow.”

“If you don’t even care about the rules, then why are you participating in the first place?!” Sanji asked from the safety of behind Zoro’s shoulder. Luffy simply turned towards them, bug still in-hands and making Sanji and Nami shiver.

“I thought it would be fun,” he beamed. “It’s a bunch of stuffy people who care about rules, so what better fun than doing it our way instead?”

“Luffy has a point,” Brook mentioned. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of rules that have been relaxed since I was your age. You can say the game was getting a little… moribund.”

“Quit the crap and let’s get on with the lessons!” Nami snapped, refusing to come out from behind Zoro’s other shoulder. “Let the bug go!”

“…but Naaaaamiiiii…”

“Luffy, she’s right, you’re going to need to concentrate for this one,” Usopp agreed. “We’re not doing this because we want to flout the rules, but because if Zoro doesn’t come up with seven people to join him, then Mihawk is going to be extra insufferable.”

“Yeah… that wouldn’t be very fun for Zoro, would it?” Luffy decided. He then stopped and counted everyone there: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven… “Wait, seven people total or seven more people?”

“We’re working on one more, now just focus,” Usopp said, tapping the chalkboard with his fingers. Between Chopper having school and Jinbe not knowing if he could get the time off work and Franky being banned from the sport of golf in perpetuity (how the fuck??? Why the fuck??? Wait, scratch that; he didn’t want to know), Usopp wasn’t sure whether or not one of them was going to need to call in a favor aside from the one currently in the works. “The Usopp School of Golf and Putting will make a golfer of you yet!”

How was that easily one of his biggest lies to-date? No one really knew.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was taking everything in Usopp’s power to not scream at the top of his lungs in frustration. Although Nami and Robin were both paying attention and subsequently began sinking many a putt, it wasn’t as though everyone else was taking his lessons as seriously. Sanji and Zoro kept fighting, Luffy kept getting distracted, and Brook was enabling in a bad way.

“Yohoho, good one, Luffy!” Brook cheered, watching as Luffy’s ball bounced around their surroundings. It eventually plopped itself onto the carpet of fake grass, rolling gently until it nestled itself in the cup at the end of the seventeenth hole.

Unfortunately, they were supposed to be on the tenth.

“Why do you keep doing that…?” Usopp groaned. “You’re supposed to aim for that hole,” he gestured with his putter, “not any of the others. You can’t just pick random holes to tee off into on a full-sized course!”

“That’s no fun,” Luffy pouted. “You said he wants to go home! So I let him go to the home he wants!”

“No,” Usopp said while trying to not grind his teeth, “the ball’s home is whichever hole you’re on. Stop keep trying to get it in the pirate ship!”

“…but I like the pirate ship!”

“I know you like the pirate ship, but you can’t always try to sink the putt at the pirate ship. That’s not how the game works. There’s not even a pirate ship at the regular golf course.”

“Well, that’s stupid,” Luffy pouted. “What’s the fun in golf if there aren’t even any pirate ships?”

“Wandering around, getting fresh air, testing your skills in both long and short game…”

“Meh; sounds like they wanted to make going on a walk worse.” Usopp opened his mouth to counter that, but stopped when he heard Nami and Robin both stifle a snicker. How in the hell was he this under-appreciated? “Can I just pretend it’s just the pirate ship for now? I dunno how much boring golfing I’m gonna be doing anyhow.”

Forget screaming: Usopp was ready to start sobbing.

“No, because you need to be better at more than just the pirate ship!” Usopp snapped, his voice cracking. “It’s more than just the pirate ship, you can’t use three clubs at once, there’s no kicking allowed, and we’re not allowed to use the course as a venue for any sort of musical performance while golfing as a means of distraction! Do I make myself clear?!”

A chorus of grumbling came from his friends.

“Alright! Now let’s get back to putting!”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was finally—finally—the day of the charity golf outing. The weather was cooperating at Goa Hills Golf Course and Country Club, a sprawling thirty-six-hole behemoth, which was filled to the gills with wealthy golf-nuts and those who happened to be roped into their antics via work or circumstance. Zoro was sulking off in a corner of the clubhouse before everything was opened, alongside Luffy, Sanji, and Usopp. Brook was there as well, but was off keeping an eye out for Nami, Robin, and whomever they were bringing along as the final piece to their puzzle.

“This is so fucking stupid,” Zoro groused. “Mihawk just wants to torture me.”

“Torture us,” Usopp hissed. He and Sanji were attempting to keep Luffy from attacking the snack table that had been set up on the other side of the room.

“As long as I get to play with Nami and Robin, this will all be worth it,” Sanji said. “Seeing them in those skirts will allow me to die happy~!”

“What skirts?”

“Of course a repressed mess like you wouldn’t understand: playing golf means a dress code, right?”

Usopp frowned, unimpressed with the assessment. “Yeah. Why else were we able to get Luffy in a collared shirt?”

“Well, ladies…” Sanji’s face contorted as he focused in on his mental fantasy. “Ladies have to wear short skirts while on the course! It’s the rules!”

“You need to get laid,” both Zoro and Usopp said simultaneously. Sanji scowled and let go of Luffy, which allowed the individual in question to break free and begin assaulting the breakfast bar.

“Jerk!” Usopp hissed. “We’re here to help Zoro, not help him get into trouble!”

“At least it won’t be eating Mihawk out of house and home,” Sanji shrugged. Usopp took a deep breath to steady himself—if all his work was going to be for nothing…

“Guys! Guy! Guys!” The trio looked out into the crowd and saw Brook coming their way in an absolute panic. He reached them and seemed to be almost in tears. “I’ve got some bad news!”

“What’s the matter?” Usopp asked.

“Don’t tell me that the eighth didn’t show up,” Zoro scowled.

“Even worse!” Brook shuddered as he prepared to levy the news. “It’s Nami and Robin!”

“Are they alright?!” Sanji asked, instantly becoming defensive. “If someone dared to touch a hair on their heads, I’ll…!”

“Oh, it’s nothing like that!” Brook insisted. “It’s just…!”

“What in the hell are you doing?!” Nami’s voice could barely be heard over the din of the clubhouse as she pushed her way through the other participants. She and Robin soon reached their friends, only for Sanji to gape in horror.

Capris. Cut to just above the calf. Not skirts. Pants.

Nami and Robin were in pants.

This was not going to be worth it.

“What in the hell is wrong with you, Brook?” Nami demanded. “Why’d you take off and abandon us?!”

“I got you here, didn’t I?!” Brook replied, affronted. Nami turned towards the others and flicked on her billion-watt smile.

“There you are, Sanji-kun,” she beamed. “I was hoping you’d be able to get my rental clubs from the pro shop. There’s a reservation already for them.”

“Why certainly, Nami-swan~!” Sanji replied, mood turning on a dime. He went off into the crowd with a flourish, completely ignoring the fact that he went right by a flustered Law as the latter was fighting his way through the crowd in an effort to get to the Straw Hats.

“Oh good, you weren’t eaten alive by the country club’s colony of rabid groundhogs,” Robin smirked. Law wanted to give her at least one middle finger, but was already too exhausted for before eight in the morning.

“All of you owe me, big time,” he grumbled, “especially you, Roronoa-ya. I could be literally anywhere but here.”

“You and me both,” the green-haired man fired back. “Gonna hang this over Mihawk’s head for long as I can.”

“That won’t work and we all know it,” Nami reminded him. They all silently agreed on that front—for some reason all of the adoptive pains-in-the-asses were collectively very, very weird and mostly unflappable. It was just that by some unfortunate turn of events that Zoro specifically landed where he was and now it was everyone’s duty to suffer through it.

A crash could be heard and a distant voice began threatening someone whose name sounded incredibly like Luffy. It was better to let that lie where it was; nothing good came from interfering with Luffy and food.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Even though Zoro knew how to play golf, it was definitely not his favorite thing in the world. It wasn’t his most-hated thing, but definitely not by much. He felt constrained, it looked like the park space was being wasted, and he couldn’t even drive through the swans that were terrorizing the third hole even though they were just honking assholes with wings.

“Stupid cook—you can’t smoke here,” he growled. The pair were watching as Law was getting ready to tee off for them, Luffy having already vanished into some bushes like a cryptid in a polo shirt, and now Sanji was indulging in his most effective vice.

“It’s either this or I murder everyone,” the blond sniped back. Fuck, Luffy was taking a long time to resurface. “Hey, I know you know how I got the geezer, but how’d you get your adoptive asshat?”

“Parents knew him somehow; I dunno, I was a kid when it happened,” Zoro scoffed. He guessed he could let Sanji power through a smoke or two—the idiot chef was without Nami and Robin, after all. “Same with Perona’s dad, I guess. I don’t think Mihawk ever imagined that the favors would be cashed because one month his mansion is perfect and silent, and the next had me and Perona arguing. Loud.”

Law hit the ball and it went a decent distance—stayed fairly straight too.

“Not that I can blame her,” Sanji scoffed. “I bet you were a shit as a tween.”

“As though you weren’t? I think I still have the geezer’s phone number; he can verify.”

“Fuck off.” Law returned to their golf cart and put the driver in with the rest of his rental set. “Did you at least see where it went?”

“Yeah; we might actually make it out of here alive if we take turns being Strawhat-ya,” he replied. Law then took a quick look around. “He hasn’t come back yet?”

“Nope,” Sanji and Zoro said in unison.

“Fuck,” Law cussed. “If we don’t find him soon, he’s gonna terrorize whatever kid they’ve got manning the beer cart thinking there’s food there.”

“I say let him,” Sanji shrugged. “It’s not like we’re paying for this disaster of an outing.”

“Make Mihawk regret it,” Zoro added. “See if he asks me for another favor again.”

“I thought the object of this was to get in, golf, get out, and make it so that we don’t get noticed by Mihawk’s weird business associates or anyone else who might be a pain in our asses,” Law frowned. “Cora-san’s brother has been known to come here when he’s in-town—we need to keep a low profile. Can any of you handle that?”

“I know I can, but I don’t know if the moss-for-brains is capable of that, considering how we need to escort him around everywhere,” Sanji said as he got in the driver’s seat and turned on the cart.

“What the fuck are you saying, curls? That I can’t find my way around?! I can do that just fine!” Zoro sat in the front passenger seat, the pair immediately butting heads in the latest round of their constant, figurative dick-measuring.

Law screamed inwardly as he tried to not cry getting into one of the cart’s back seats; the mind-melting sex he was promised was not going to be worth this.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Robin and Brook were standing to the side of the putting green, watching as Usopp was measuring and calculating the sort of putt Nami was going to need to pull off in order to sink the ball. Nami herself was standing next to the ball, tapping her foot impatiently.

“Will you cut that out?” she scowled. “Any longer and we’re going to get people wanting to play through.”

“This is for double-birdie, Nami!” Usopp replied as he laid down on the green to measure at eye-level. “This will help keep us in competitive range! These don’t often happen with golfers of our casual nature! We gotta make this count!”

“Uh… I think you mean eagle not double-birdie,” Brook cut in. Usopp and Nami both glared at him, making him flinch. How scary!

“Usopp, I think I can math my own way out of this one and not ruin Robin’s lucky shot,” Nami grumbled. “You’re making too big a deal out of this.”

“Listen, Nami,” Usopp said, “we all know that you are really good at math, but we also know that I’m better at math and physics. It has nothing to do with making you feel stupid. Because you’re not. You’re terrifyingly smart.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she frowned. “You just don’t want to get murdered in your sleep.”

“That is always a goal, yeah.” He got up and went to go stand by Robin and Brook. “Okay—one of your normal putts should do it.”

“I could have told you that,” Nami deadpanned. She went to putt, only for an unexpected voice to cut through the air and make her overshoot in surprise.

“NAAMII!” Luffy shouted. Nami and Usopp both cringed—how the fuck did he escape the others? Everyone looked to see Luffy approaching via the beer cart, where he was sitting in the passenger seat munching on chips while… wait… Koby was driving the cart?!

“I always suspected the police department to not pay a living wage,” Robin noted as the cart stopped next to them. Koby shook his head.

“I’m undercover… kinda,” he admitted. “There’s a lot of varying movers and shakers participating in this tournament, and Commissioner Sengoku wants me to keep an eye out.” He then gestured to Luffy. “Where does he go so I can drop him off?”

“With Zoro, Sanji, and Torao,” Nami said. She leaned in to Luffy, who tried to ignore her glare. “Why aren’t you with them?”

“Golf is boring,” Luffy admitted, “and I have a lot more fun hanging out with Koby anyhow! We’re gonna go catch some weirdos being weird.”

“I thought you were going to keep an eye on Torao for me,” Nami scolded. “What’s going to happen if we leave him alone? There’s weirdos here that might want him for themselves and then no more Torao at the Sunny.”

“I dunno,” he shrugged. “He’s with Zoro and Sanji though, so I’d say they’re all pretty safe from weirdos.” Luffy then noticed that Usopp was laying down on the grass. “What’s the matter?”

“We just lost a major shot thanks to you…” Usopp whined. “The only way we’re going to make that up is if we score a triple-eagle on the next one!”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Robin said. “Those are incredibly rare. They’ve never been accomplished in professional play.”

“Yeah—the only way to get a condor would probably be to cheat, and I don’t know if we want to do that,” Brook added. He handed Koby some money and the young man passed him a juice box, which he proceeded to drink loudly. “At least, I wouldn’t do that here.”

“Mr. Soul King’s right,” Koby said. “We can’t lose our heads just because we want to stay ahead in the game! There’s villains out there that we have to catch!”

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” Brook deadpanned. Koby didn’t seem to listen, as there seemed to be stars glinting in his eyes.

“Come on, Luffy! What do you say?”

In his defense, Luffy did seem to think about it. He thought for only a few seconds before a spine-chilling grin crept across his face.

“Nope!”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Dracule Mihawk was irritated. It took a lot of nonsense at once to get him irritated, honestly, for if there was one thing that keeping the brats in his home did for him was turn his nonsense threshold terribly high. There was also the fact that many of his business associates were—unfortunately—absolute goons that made him question the hierarchy of who was able to move up in the world and who was kept down. He tolerated them at best, especially on days where he was made to do social activities.

Even a bottomless wine tumbler could not change the fact that his present company was… lurid.

“Just take the shot already,” he droned. Buggy flinched from his spot over on the fairway—he was in the middle of adjusting his stance, which had been going on for two minutes too long.

“Watch out; you’re going to spook him,” Crocodile chuckled. The pair were sitting in the front seats of their cart while Galdino was standing next to the vehicle. “Do that and we might have to record a mulligan.”

“I don’t care; this is wearing on my nerves,” Mihawk replied. He took another sip from the tumbler and hoped the chilled compartment in his bag was keeping the rest of his very necessary bottle intact and a decent temperature, even with the sun. “How do you do it?”

“Honestly? I’m just glad I can use him as a human shield,” Galdino shrugged. “He’s almost the perfect decoy.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Buggy snapped. “If you’re such big shots, then why am I even here?!”

“…because we’re trying to network through charity events,” Galdino reminded him. “We have to look legitimate, remember? That involves shit like this sometimes.”

“…or would you rather default on that money you owe me and have the next decade of your life be a living hell?” Crocodile threatened with a grin on his face. Buggy swallowed hard while Mihawk sighed in distaste; the other man certainly had a way to make things so base. “What? You mean you wouldn’t want to watch him squirm?”

“At least don’t shout it out to the entire course,” Mihawk replied. He adjusted the umbrella that was shielding him from the partly-cloudy skies and grunted. “I wonder how Zoro’s doing, if making his friends come along has made him behave.”

“I don’t care to find out,” Crocodile scoffed. “That brat’s still on my shit list, as are all his friends. It’s a bad idea if you ask me.” He went to light another cigar and Mihawk’s lip curled.

“You smell enough like those things; you don’t need a refresher.”

“If you can drink, then I can smoke,” he grumbled. “It’s only fair dealing with this shit.” Crocodile gestured towards Buggy with his now-lit cigar.

“Why am I here…?!” Buggy sniffled. “I don’t even like golf!”

“Just hit the ball,” Mihawk, Crocodile, and Galdino said in unison.

“Fine! You want me to hit the ball?! I’ll hit the fucking ball!” Buggy took a running start and smacked the ball as heard as he could; ball, turf, and club alike soared into the air, making his companions groan in frustration. They all kept their eyes on the ball, however, watching as it plopped onto the putting green and… “Wait, what the fuck, did that just go into its home?!”

“It’s called ‘the hole’, you idiot, and it looks like you did,” Crocodile replied, almost impressed.

“So I got a hole in one?!”

“No, but you did get something,” Galdino muttered. He did the quick math and an even quicker lookup on his phone. “Apparently this is called a double-eagle! You’re three strokes under par!”

“Fuck yeah!” Buggy pumped his fist and started a victory dance, in which Galdino joined in. Crocodile simply chuckled as he wrote down the score, while Mihawk took a swig of wine.

“Of course he scored an albatross,” Mihawk sulked. “He is the bloody albatross.”

“He’s something alright,” Crocodile laughed. He and Mihawk watched the victory celebration for only a moment before he raised his voice slightly. “Get in the car and let’s confirm that hole-in-two.”

Buggy did not seem to hear him, continuing to dance to a song being played on an imaginary speaker. He was so engrossed in dancing, however, that he completely missed the fact that the beer cart was coming his way… or that it honked… or that it was about to run him over until he was clipped by the cart, its teenaged driver laughing mirthfully as he sped away on the now-ruined fairway.

“Sorry ‘bout that!” Luffy shouted. “You should probably pay attention!”

“Ow! Fuck! Watch where you’re going you!” Buggy was in the process of being helped up by Galdino when he saw his assailant: wide grin, polo shirt ripped at the sleeves, sandals, jorts cut off at the knee, a straw hat… oh, his blood boiled. “I’m gonna get you, you little shitstain!”

“Oh, that’s tempting,” Crocodile noted. He then watched as Koby ran after the beer cart, his attempt to catch up on foot not entirely feeble in execution. “Ah, one of Garp’s pets is here anyhow. That’s not a lot of fun.”

“Could be,” Mihawk shrugged. “Depends on how you look at it.”

“I evade taxes, not back pain; let them sort it out.” Crocodile saw that Buggy was not yet back on his feet, which was frankly irritating. “Get back in the cart, dumbass, or we’ll leave you behind!”

“I think that idiot broke my ankle!”

“Walk it off!”

“Easy for you to say!” Buggy grumbled under his breath the entire time Galdino helped him hobble to the cart, hissing in pain as he was deposited into his seat. “You couldn’t have gone and, you know, picked me up?”

“Waste of battery.”

“This bitch has a solar panel roof.” Crocodile said nothing as he turned on the cart and began to drive away. “Can we at least stop to grab my club? It’s a rental.”

Eh; he guessed he didn’t mind that much.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A/N: For those who might not know, referring to something as an albatross that’s not, you know, the actual bird means that something is a burden. A person can also be considered an albatross, but it also can mean the person’s an idiot.

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