#workers second affiliate

[melljam]

wait …. wait ….. i just noticed this while finding panels for my previous post

before the hunt for big deal, samuel is shown to be calling a mystery person (chapter 403)

and then in the hunt for big deal it was revealed that samuel and jake teamed up against workers

his betrayal was foreshadowed all along …!!!

[artemis32]

Yandere Second Affiliate I

For my lovely anon <33 I went the more platonic route, and added Sinu because this took so long (I'm trying to be nice)

I only included four of the members from the second affiliate, if you'd like me to include the other members, let me know :))

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art's 21st birthday celebration masterlist

lookism masterlist

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Mitsuki Soma was the first to meet you.

Truth be told, you really weren't anyone important. Not in anyway that matters.

You were some lowly member of another affiliate, or the family member of one. Or maybe you were a young assistant to one of the spectators visiting the circus.

Maybe you were an accidental pick for the circus itself - no, not accidental. They didn't make accidents.

If she thinks back hard enough, Mitsuki might be able to remember. Maybe you were added to the list of people there for entertainment, meant only to add a small shock factor. After all, no one expected some small girl to be involved in such vicious fighting.

But regardless of who you were or how you came to cross paths with the second affiliate, Mitsuki was enthralled the moment she laid her eyes on you.

Something about you was just so alluring, in the most pathetic way possible.

She was surrounded by strong, capable people - people who had the physical strength of ten men, people smart enough to topple world-renowned businesses, people who were all extraordinary and the best at what they did.

So when she saw you - dull, so plain you nearly blended in with the walls, completely unnoticed by those around you - she felt something shift within her.

Her interest in you is intense and obvious, and no amount of shy refusals will get her to back off.

Ryuhei Kuroda took an interest in you because of that. After all, you had to be something worthwhile if his Mitsuki took an interest in you - unlike that stupid Sinu Han.

While his interest may not be as intense or invasive, it still makes you uncomfortable. Something about his gaze, the intensity of his leering stare - it makes you feel as though he knows things you don't even know about yourself.

His playful attitude also throws you off, especially with the business that he's in. Why was he so gleeful while fighting? Beating people half to death couldn't be all that fun.

What started off as interest born of a feeling akin to jealously quickly grows into something else.

Yes, he was jealous in the beginning, he was man enough to admit that - how could someone as plain and unassuming as you catch the attention of Mitsuki? He was right there! And surely ten times more interesting!

But that jealous, burning curiousity had changed somewhere along the line, and now his own interest sat on par with Mitsuki's, not that he'd ever admit it.

Speaking of Sinu Han, you were barely a blip on his radar at first. He was there to do a job, he couldn't give two shits about you.

At least, that was how it had been for the first few months after you'd arrived.

It was all but inevitable that he noticed the attention you garnered from Mitsuki and Ryuhei. That sparked his curiosity.

Two of the most uninterested, cold people he knew, both captivated by the same girl? You had to be something special to be worth their time and attention.

At first, he regarded you coldly, keeping an apathetic distance, but that didn't last long after he spent a bit of time with you.

Something about the warmth of your company, the softness of your presence - it was all achingly familiar, but he couldn't quite recall where he'd felt before.

After many, many months, he latches on to you, growing attached like an abandoned child.

And just like that, you've got another grown child attached at the hip, never giving you a moment of peace.

Kenta Magami tried to keep his personal feelings under lock.

What good would some obsession do him. He had plans for his life, he had to take revenge against Gun. He couldn't very well do that if his mind was preoccupied with some random girl, could he?

But despite his best efforts, he couldn't help his feelings.

Obsession was a slippery slope for all four of them, and just like his colleagues, you charmed him, captured his attention in ways he couldn't understand.

He probably scared you the most, after Mitsuki. Something about the look in his eyes when he caressed your cheek or kept you company while you ate - it chilled you to your core.

The single-minded focus, the intense aura that surrounded him whenever he stared at you, lost in thought - it terrified you.

They all terrified you.

And the times when you weren't scared, shaking from anxiety and exhaustion, you were bored.

They acted as your only source of entertainment, and left you locked up like some show bird when they weren't around.

You had all your needs taken care of, but you couldn't leave, and you couldn't speak to anyone beyond the executives of the Second Affiliate.

At the very least, your life was more comfortable now than it had been. You no longer had to worry about keeping a roof over your head, or when your next meal would be, or your safety while walking to and from work. Hell, you didn't even have to exhaust yourself working more hours than you had to at a job that payed below minimum wage, nor did you have to stay up till the sun rose studying for classes you couldn't afford.

Despite all that, you couldn't bring yourself to feel grateful for your situation. Trading in one hardship for another was hardly cause for celebration.

The second affiliate executives are horrible yanderes - you have no peace, no personal space, no autonomy.

You're forced to give up bits and pieces of yourself in exchange for their protection, if you could even go as far as to call it that. Truly, you have to have a great deal of mental fortitude to be able to deal with their mind games and not-so-subtle manipulation.

[appealingtotheaesthetic]

Rʏᴜʜᴇɪ Kᴜʀᴏᴅᴀ

Manhwa: Lookism Edited by Me

Like or Reblog if you use ❤︎︎

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE YOOJIN(EUGENE) HEADCANONS

I seriously PRAY for you if you have him after you, it's like you've received a death contract from the devil himself. One thing you cannot deny when it comes to him is his determination, when he's set out to do something, he WILL get it done, including of course, stalking you and finding out everything about you. You could either meet him in school when you both are in the same class, you make the unfortunate mistake of standing up for him when he's getting bullied and picked on by the other people and ever since then he decides to know everything about you. It's like the heavens itself sent him an angel, just for him. He lives in his own deluded little fantasy world where you belong to him 

Don't worry if you didn't get the memo, you'll get it soon enough right after he finishes ensuring that silly chemistry partner of yours disappears for good. Male or female, he doesn't give a damn. He doesn't like it when other people are too close to you for his liking. He got absolutely infuriated with that teacher pairing you with someone else other than him, how DARE that happen? You BELONG to him, his mind was working in overdrive, churning with less than savory and unpleasant thoughts but he still maintained his usual calm and stoic manner with his fake smile plastered across his smug face. I'm telling you, this guy is WAY WORSE than a serial killer, he'll have his own sadistic pleasure and fun toying with the person he's after and send the rest of the workers after that poor schmuck where Mandeok will resort to punching them in the face till they're knocked out cold and bloodied on the ground

If you're one of the Worker's and a part of the organization, he doesn't want you finding out about the dark secrets of the organization. He'll specifically warn the others to keep their mouths shut around you and anyone else who dares to slip something by mistake or accident, well... they'll be found dead in the next hour or so. He does NOT want his reputation getting tarnished in your eyes, you do mean a lot to him and he holds you in the highest regard even if he does want you chained up to his bed and be by his side at all times. He gets jealous really fast too but he doesn't really show it outside, he's managed to keep a check and control of his emotions. He'll have that unnerving fake smile plastered across his face as his eyes narrow coldly and he'll give a slight nod to his right hand man Mandeok to deal with the pest which he'll comply 

If you think he won't have files and files of information on you, you're mistaken. He'll send his brother Yuseong after you to find out more about you and he'll make him report EVERY single thing that you in your life, he feels like he's getting a glimpse into the window of your life and he'll use every single bit of information to his own advantage to pull the strings to manipulate you into getting you to be his since that's the kind of guy he is. He's really not above installing secret cameras in your own house either, he'll have a large storage of videos of you along with all your passwords, your search history...everything. When he does his research for you, he leaves no stone untouched, no possibility unchecked 

The other day Mitsuki made a slight joke of you competing in the circus and he almost blew a fuse and was on the verge of forgetting his politeness and was ready to strangle her. His eyes narrowed at her coldly as he spoke "Mitsuki... I do hope you did not forget your position here. You might be the President of the worker's second Affiliate but I am the chairman. Any more unsavory thoughts on the one I intend to pursue...let me assure you that the consequences for you will be dire'' he said in an ominous tone as his expression darkened at her. Mitsuki had no choice but to keep herself from spewing insults at him because he was right. Despite Eugene having a sadistic streak and persona inside him, he doesn't actually want to see you physically getting hurt. He'd rather resort to mind games and emotional manipulation instead of seeing you get hurt physically 

Look, he cares for you in his own twisted way. I'd say you'll be kidnapped by him after a week or two weeks. You'll wake up on a fancy bed with lush and posh furniture around as he enters the room and he'll caress your cheek with a sickly lovesick obsessive look in his eyes. "I'm so glad you're awake sweetheart...there'll be some new changes to your life now. You'll be mine now and there are some rules you'll have to follow'' he said. After your initial hysteria and panicking and demands to be set free, he'll just chuckle softly at you and look at you with an endearing look on his face like you just said something cute and adorable to him. "Let you go, darling, don't be silly...it's a dangerous world out there, I'm doing this to keep you safe. You wouldn't want to make me mad now do you...'' he said as he stared at you in amusement while he could see your will power and determination crumbling slightly as the moment passes by. He would be lying if he didn't like how helpless and scared and vulnerable you looked, on the contrary he actually enjoyed it 

He's going to enjoy breaking you and shaping you like a clay doll that'll obey his every word and wish. The only thing that's keeping you from loving him is your own self which he'll obviously has to deal with. He'll use your family and friends against you and each time you have tears streaming down your face he'll coo at you with mock sympathy and kiss your cheeks and dry your tears. He can't believe he has you in his arms, where you rightfully belong. For the love of god and your sanity, don't even think of trying to escape from him. You do NOT know to what extent he will go through to make your life hell. He'll have you dragged back by his brother Yuseong without saying a word and for the first time, even that fake smile of his disappeared and he'll give you a cold look which will fill you with a sense of dread for what's about to happen 

"This is for your own good darling...you need to learn you NEED me in your life'' he said as you'll be locked in a room and tied to the bed with silk ropes. He doesn't want to hurt you after all. But at the same time he also kind of does so...say goodbye to your friends and family I guess. Don't be too sad when you see their missing or dead bodies on the news channels the next day as he'll whisper in your ear how the whole thing could have been prevented had you not acted like a brat. He does have his soft moments with you at times. He likes talking to you about your day or about anything basically. He likes to spoil you with gifts and forehead kisses and cheek kisses too and pat you on the head like you're some kind of pet when you don't scream at him for 5 whole days. He also likes having you on his lap during his work and he WANTS people to know you're his and you belong to him, that way no one would have the guts to mess with him 

It's not like you can ask someone for help either, all the Workers are strictly loyal to him which makes sense since he IS the chairman after all. Yuseong will be your secret bodyguard, always watching your every move and snitching on you when he feels like you might plan to leave his brother. He would even resort to drugging you or sedating you to make you nice and pliant and obedient for him till your thoughts are occupied of him and only him...he's going to make you his in every way possible...

[arafilez]

☆ ⼂ LOVE, TAILORED ﹗one

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜[ fashion designer khj x ceo fem!reader ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤfluff, crack, e2l 𓏧 for the company assets you have to work with solo designer kim hongjoong. even if it meant him annoying you at every step. ㅤ warnings flirting ㅤ﹢ㅤ2.1k wc ꔫㅤㅤ ❜part one . two . three

Headstrong. Calm. Organised.

This is how you are described everywhere you step foot in. Wearing a Chanel dress, Louis Vuitton handbag and Balenciaga shoes you made sure you are an icon wherever you step, and that typical red-lipped smile in every camera that is ready to capture you.

You aren’t afraid to show you are made from money. And of money too. Yes, you got the company from your father. But under you the company grew bigger, made overseas branches and had more affiliations with other companies.

Your father trusted you enough to hand it over to you on your twenty-fourth birthday. And by your twenty-sixth birthday, you proved to be one of the best CEOs among all leading companies worldwide.

Known among your workers for a bright smile, kind heart and nice behaviour you are never anyone’s bad example. Your working style is organised and you are always calm, strict when only there is an absolute need to be.

So why are you now holding your secretary cum best friend Park Seonghwa by the collar against your table?

Seonghwa’s eyes bulge looking at your fuming face while he tries to explain, “Calm down, he isn’t that bad.”

Leaving his collar, you stand back as you watch Seonghwa fix his tie and shirt which was wrinkled by you. You scoff lightly and look at him saying, “Not bad? Of course, he isn’t bad, he is just simply terrible.”

“How do you even know that? You haven’t worked with him yet” Seonghwa retorts as you roll your eyes.

“Yes,” you breathe, "but I have seen him on numerous shows. And he is the most arrogant, self-absorbed bit- I mean person I have ever seen. It is clear from his attitude."

The thing is, your company is about modelling. And though you do have your own fashion designers, Kim Hongjoong has a great influence on the world. He has no company behind him though. His bold fashion statements which he made alone and his dressing sense earned numerous applause from everywhere. At the mere age of twenty-seven, he can easily be called one of the most successful solo acts in the world.

“Look you understand right? How big this will be on the market? Kim Hongjoong is a self-made fashion designer. Collaborating with him will increase your company assets. And besides you know how people’s on-screen and off-screen personalities are different,” Seonghwa explains as you keep quiet.

Maybe he is right, maybe Kim Hongjoong isn’t such a person as he has built his image to be. You sigh quietly as you take your pen and sign into the contract paper, handing it over to Seonghwa.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

The cool November breeze hits your face as you see a black car stop and Kim Hongjoong getting out of it.

As soon as Kim Hongjoong enters your building you can feel the aura changing. He has a confident strut, holding a coffee in one hand and a black file in another. His body is covered by a black overcoat, simple light-blue jeans and a black silk shirt.

And you can say he makes it work.

You stand quietly at the entrance of your building in a black pantsuit with a black coat hanging loosely over your shoulders. But you feel extremely underdressed as you see the man and gasp a bit visibly but gain your composure back in seconds, a professional smile etching your face.

After the initial introduction, you shake hands with him as multiple reporters take photos before you head inside the building, ignoring the cries of the reporters. Seonghwa walks behind you and Hongjoong and reaching the elevator he presses the buttons while you stand there patiently waiting for it.

It feels calm, too calm for its own good, before Hongjoong leans in slowly and whispers to your ear, “Oh Darling, the reporters might not have noticed but I clearly saw you gawking at me.”

Your breath hitches in your throat feeling his face so close to you, face heating up as he stands up straight again casually and you try to process what just happened. His warm breath lingers in your ears as you take a deep breath trying to calm yourself.

And then you scoff lightly. You were absolutely right.

And Seonghwa was wrong.

Kim Hongjoong is a total jerk and you know it right then and there.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

You let him enter your office as Hongjoong’s eyes scan the room in a boring manner. You feel judged and that makes you glare at him from behind until Seonghwa nudges you and you look away.

Good lord, he has two-toned hair, what is this even? Why is one part of his hair black and the other white? You want to make a snarky remark so bad about it, especially after the elevator incident but you keep quiet.

Being a jerk is not how you deal with a jerk.

Seonghwa’s voice cuts your thoughts saying, “Mr. Kim, please take a seat.” Hongjoong simply nods before sitting down on the sofa as you sit down on the opposite side.

You cleared your throat lightly before nodding your head to the file and Seonghwa walked over to bring it.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Kim,” you say politely as he finally looks up and meets your eyes. “Yeah, nice to meet you too,” he replies before looking back at the file again.

You try your best to not gasp in disbelief. Seriously, like he can’t even say a greeting properly. You jerk in shock as Seonghwa’s hand touches your shoulder as he slips the file in between your hands whispering a quick “good luck” before leaving the room.

You sigh quietly before addressing Hongjoong and say, “Mr. Kim I believe we need to start worki-“ and immediately get interrupted by him saying, “Can you loosen up a bit?”

“What?” you stare at him as he makes himself comfortable leaning back on the sofa. “I said loosen up a little, what’s with all this uptight behaviour?” Hongjoong smiles as you roll your eyes visibly.

“In case you have forgotten Mr. Kim, I am a CEO. So yes I like things organised and I am not uptight, I am professional, unlike well,” you say laughing lightly, “you.”

“Damn you really are uptight, I used to think that was all for T.V,” Hongjoong says eyes boring into yours as you bite back a snarky remark.

Be professional. Do the business for the two months collaboration and then it will be over. You can deal with him for two months. You can.

“Anyways, I think we can plan this out-“ and again you get interrupted by Hongjoong saying, “Plan? Fashion needs no planning! It is all about spontaneity and with someone as uptight as you I can’t possibly do any work, darling.”

“Do not call me that, Kim Hongjoong,” you snap as he smirks, “Oh, leaving all formalities so soon?” he teases as you purse your lips. God this man is insufferable.

“Look, we need to work together for two months, and I want to make this work, Mr Kim, so please cooperate,” you try to make him listen as he finally gives in.

“Yeah alright, we can start with your plan now, but when we start real work we will follow my work ethic,” Hongjoong says as you mouth opens wide. You tilt your head slightly before opening your own file. This is some progress and you are willing to take it. Time was ticking away.

He nods at everything and much to your dismay never takes any notes but you don’t call him out as it will result in another pointless argument. After everything is done you close the file looking up at him as he keeps his eyes trained on his hands thinking something.

After a moment of silence, he gets up suddenly and extends his hand as you look back cautiously but shake it anyway. You voice out, “Pleasure doing business with you Mr. Kim.” You see him smirking lightly and you wait for what remark he is about to make.

“Pleasure doing business with you too darling,” he replies in a honey-laced voice as you shoot daggers at his back glaring at him.

This time you were wrong.

You cannot possibly work for two months with this man.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

It has been a week since Hongjoong came here. He had wanted a week to design the dresses in his copy before showing them to you. You had happily granted him the week, the less you see of him, the better.

Now, Hongjoong is late- by twenty minutes. Your patience is decreasing with each passing second and you warily look at Seonghwa who just gives you a sympathetic smile. You curse Hongjoong in your mind but soon enough your door swings open as you abruptly sit up.

Hongjoong walks in and Seonghwa takes his leave as you stare at him.

“Ah yes, your eyes will be blessed if you stare like that,” Hongjoong says smirking as you look away scoffing. The audacity of this man- first, twenty minutes late, second, has no decency of mere knocking, third, thinking you are swooning over him.

“I am not swooning over you Kim,” you snap before realising what you called him and your eyes widen.

“I did not say you were swooning, did I? Darling?” he smiles in an innocent manner that just makes your blood boil. God why is he so insufferable.

You dismiss his comment and hate at the same time how your ears grow warm at the mention of the pet name that he probably calls everybody.

But then again he was free of scandals, to the point where people thought he was asexual.

You scolded your mind for thinking of unnecessary details before delving into work.

“You know what? Just show me which designs you have made. We are already behind schedule,” you sighed as you cocked his eyebrows at you.

“You and your schedule, didn’t I tell you fashion is all about spontaneity?” Hongjoong says lightly and your eyes bore into him. “Yeah well be all spontaneous as you want, I am not the fashion designer here,” you comment as Hongjoong shrugs.

He hands you the file as you flip through the pages. You awe at the designs because they have impeccable style and every one was unique in its own way. As much as you hate Hongjoong you cannot not underestimate his talent at these.

Your eyes get stuck in a drawing of a dress which has flowers as the design. It was so beautiful you almost wish he made it specifically for you.

Keyword- almost!

“Well looks like Miss Schedule is speechless now,” Hongjoong’s cocky voice makes you glare at him as you slide back the file. Goddamn, he just had to ruin the fine moment you were having with the dress.

“I will just come right out and say it- your designs are impeccable,” you smile pausing and then saying, “but you are very fucking annoying,” you smirk satisfactorily as his face changes from confident to surprise.

“Well that was some smooth-talking, wasn’t it darling?” he gains back his composure within seconds and you fume saying, “Don’t call me that.”

He smiles cheekily before getting up and walking towards the door. You groan in your hands quietly before getting up whisper-shouting, “Kim wait up, you have to meet the models.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

Meeting the models was a fairly easy process. Hongjoong asked for their proportions which Seonghwa promptly handed him over in a big copy.

You stood at the door quietly scoffing every time the models tried to flirt with him and he gave a deaf year to them. Where were people’s dignity nowadays?

After meeting with the models you are now walking with Hongjoong to show him his working area. Seonghwa leaves to get to some other work and you are now left alone with him again. The walk down the hallway was pretty quiet as Hongjoong looked around observing everything inside the building.

You quietly open the door to the lavish working room as he looks around and nods. You stand there patiently as he checks the drawers and sewing area. You now realise why he doesn’t take on any big projects, he has no workers and does all of this himself.

The tenacity he has is admirable. Only if he didn’t have such a big mouth.

He hums in satisfaction and turns towards you as you cock your eyebrows. “So do I get a schedule for this too? Maybe a binder?” he challenges as you roll your eyes.

“Just get along with your work Kim,” you replied gritting your teeth.

“Sure darling,” he grins and you turn on your heels to leave. The less time you are in the same room as him, the better.

“Did he just call you, darling?” you jump at the voice behind you as soon as you leave the room.

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤidea credit to @iwishiwasrichasfuck. banner made by @/DathanHamen in wattpad. idk if i can bring the story to life. but i genuinely am trying my best ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ taglist ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤ@haneagerr @tunaasan @stellarlune-love @jeonghanfr @soocore @chaotic-floral @loveateezㅤmain mlistㅤ atz listㅤ navi ㅤtaglist

© arafilez on tumblr. please don't copy and repost my work as your own.

[halfmoth-halfman]

viii. but i can't help falling in love with you

Pairing: Mob Boss!Price x F!Reader Word Count: 5.6k Warnings: bruises, injury, medical inaccuracies, blood, scars, scar mention, talks of abuse Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. prev | next

“Everything about it says it was just a random break-in—”

Price hums, clearly not happy with the answer.

“—the guy’s prints weren’t in the system, and he didn’t have any affiliated markings or tattoos,” Ghost continues, hands gripping tight around the back of Soap’s chair.

“We asked around on our ends,” Alejandro sighs, gesturing between himself and Valeria. “No one recognizes him.”

“We haven’t heard anything either, but I have Ayah keeping a lookout for anything new,” Farah adds from Price’s left side, trying to add some small amount of comfort to a clearly upset Price.

“It was probably some guy looking to score,” Kyle reasons from the chair across her. The dining room lapses into silence as Price sits in thought, arms crossed and fingers drumming against his bicep.

“We should ask the bird,” Nik cuts in. “If it’s someone she knows, this could be a targeted attack against her, not the club.”

“Let her sleep,” Price says, leaving no room for argument. Nik gives him a questioning look but nods and stays silent.

“We could keep a set of eyes on the hotel for a few weeks, see if anyone comes lookin’ around?” Soap suggests.

“We can’t spare anyone right now,” Ghost huffs. “Not with the way things are.”

“But—”

A soft knock draws the room’s attention to the door leading to the sitting room.

It’s the worst anyone has seen you look. Dressed in leggings and a maroon sweater that’s a little big on you, you look exhausted and run-down, with deep purple bruises lining your neck.

“He-ey—” you croak out, wincing as you give a haggard cough.

Rudy’s on his feet immediately, guiding you to the closest chair, the one directly opposite Price’s seat at the head of the table. He sits you down as you try to clear your throat.

“I told you, no talking,” he chides, gently tilting your head back to lightly press his fingers against the bruises, just like he had when Price brought you here last night. You sigh through your nose, giving a quick sorry in sign language.

“How are you feeling?” Alejandro asks. You open your mouth to answer and shut it promptly when Rudy sends you a warning look. You shuffle, reaching into the pocket of your leggings to pull out your phone.

You type for a quick second before your phone chimes, and a robotic voice answers for you, “Like I almost got choked out by a man twice my size.” That earns you a few chuckles, though Price looks less than amused.

You type again, a quiet beat before the voice in your phone asks, “What did you do with him?”

There are a few glances around the table, most landing on Price as if they’re unsure whether they’re allowed to answer.

“He’s taken care of. No need to worry,” Price answers. You nod, trying not to hit Rudy’s fingers with your chin.

“Did you…recognize him at all?” Roach asks. “Maybe you’ve seen him around the hotel or…?”

“Roach,” Price warns.

“It’s a fair question,” Nik scoffs. “We need to know if this was random or if someone’s going after her.”

They go back and forth while you type, waiting for a lull in their argument to answer. “I didn’t get a good look at him, but from what I saw, I don’t recognize him.”

“And…do you have anyone who might be after you? An old co-worker? Friend?” Valeria presses.

You swallow tightly, fingers hesitating over your phone. Rudy catches that, pulling back from you to give you a curious look.

“Canary?” Rudy asks softly, his quiet voice loud in the room's silence. “Is someone after you?”

It’s too late to lie now.

Think, think, think.

You type again, “The cops? The ones who interrogated me when I covered for you after Hasan. They seemed pretty mad, and they knew where I was staying.”

You give your best worried look, setting your phone down to fidget and pick at your nails.

“That could explain why we didn’t find anything on him,” Alex says, looking at Price.

“Shepherd wouldn’t risk one of his guys like that,” Kyle disagrees. “Especially not to go after someone who’s barely involved with our business. No offense, Canary.”

“None taken,” you sign, giving a casual shrug.

“It wouldn’t hurt to look into it,” Farah sighs. “Can you ask Kate to check around and see if she can find anything on her end?”

Price, silent until this point with his eyes fixed on you, takes a deep breath. He sits up in his chair, the room lapsing into a tense silence as everyone looks toward him.

“Rudy, how’s her neck?” Price asks.

“Still swollen, but it looks like it’s going down,” Rudy answers before turning to you. “You’ll have to take it easy for at least a week. Minimal talking and no singing.”

You give him a salute and a thumbs up.

“I’ll call Kate and see if she finds us any information,” Price sighs. “We’ll close the club tonight while the rest of you find out what you can and put out feelers—see if any of the other families are trying to branch out. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

Price stands, and the others follow suit, taking their leave with gentle goodbyes and smiles aimed toward you.

“König, hang back a second,” Price calls as he walks to your end of the table and takes the seat next to you, pulling the chair closer to fit you between his spread legs. König nods, lingering near the door as Price gently traces his finger along the bruises on your neck.

“Any news from Majka?” Price asks quietly.

“Nothing yet. Conor said he’d let me know if he heard anything,” König answers. Price nods, a brief flash of disappointment across his face.

“Okay, thank you. Keep me updated.”

“Yes, sir,” König says, giving you a nod before leaving the room.

The room sinks into a comfortable silence as Price looks over the purple and blue of your neck. He’s as gentle as possible, fingertips barely ghosting over the swollen skin.

“How are you?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper as he pulls his fingers away to slide his along your cheek and cup your jaw. You set your hand over his, squeezing softly with a small smile.

You shrug half-heartedly, trying to reassure him without talking, lest you incur Rudy’s wrath.

He nods in understanding, leaning forward to kiss your head softly. When he pulls away, you lean forward, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

“Gaz and Roach brought your things over last night. You can pick whichever room you want, and we’ll move your stuff there,” Price says, perching his head on top of yours with a comforting hand rubbing up and down your back.

You reach for your phone, keeping yourself attached to him as you type, “The room I was in last night…?”

“My room,” Price chuckles.

You pull back to look up at him questioningly, tilting your head. “Then where did you sleep?”

“In one of the spare rooms,” he shrugs. “We got done late, and you needed the rest.” You roll your eyes, clicking your tongue in disappointment.

“If you like the room that much, you’re welcome to it,�� Price teases.

You narrow your eyes, glaring playfully at him before you type out your answer, a smirk on your face as your phone says, “I’d prefer the room with you in it.”

Price’s brows raise as he smiles down at you, but there’s a hesitance in his eyes. “You’re sure? I don’t want you to feel like you have to after what happen—”

You set a hand on his chest to stop him. Setting your phone down, your hand slides up to rest on his cheek, gently pulling him closer and closer until you’re barely centimeters apart.

“You make me feel safe,” you rasp before you move forward and close the gap.

For a brief moment, Price stills, and anxiety rockets through you at the thought you’ve overstepped.

You move to pull away, and he lunges, warm hands coming up to frame your face as he kisses you with a year’s worth of bubbling tension finally boiling over.

You don’t know how you feel as you kiss him. It’s a combination of emotions you haven’t felt in so long: relief, desire, comfort, joy. They all swirl together into the one emotion you’ve been chasing since your wedding.

Safe.

-

Living with John is suspiciously easy.

It feels as if you've known each other for years, and that same familiarity extends to the rest of the club.

You remember nights with your father as a child, listening to him tell you old war stories from his chair while you took and apart and cleaned his guns in front of the warm fireplace. Those memories bring a fondness to your heart that you always thought was the peak of what familial love was meant to be, but it’s nothing compared to your life in the manor.

Dinners with Kyle, Farah, and Alex are filled with laughter and teasing and almost always made by you and John. There’s no tense silence as everyone picks at their plates, no stilted conversation about business and only business, no large work dinners that force you to parade around in an uncomfortably tight dress while you serve your guests.

When Soap and Ghost stay the night, you sometimes run with Soap in the mornings, turning morning exercise into a friendly competition. There’s no pushing on his end, no yelling at you to pick up the pace, or warnings about falling behind. It’s all encouragement and jokes and teasingly elbowing each other as you walk the rest of the way back to the house.

Sometimes Ghost joins you instead, the two of you enjoying a quiet run around the property. He indulges you in the few questions you have about the flowers you find. The answers are short, as you expected, but he’s surprisingly knowledgeable about the flora around the manor and has a cute eagerness to his voice when he explains a flower’s meaning to you.

After a month, Nik finds you one afternoon, grinning at you as he wipes the black grease from his hands onto his overalls. He leads you to the garage, where he shows off the extensive collection of cars he’s worked on, both classic and modern, and tells you to take your pick. You try to assure him you don’t need anything more than your beat-up car—it may be falling apart, but it’s wormed its way into your heart.

“That’s fine, but you’ll have to drive something else while I fix up your piece of shit,” he tells you. It’s then that you notice the back of the garage where his workshop is set up, and he’s got your broken baby up on a lift with the tires taken off.

So, you pick a new one—something practical, efficient, and baby blue—and thank Nik when he tosses you the keys.

Alejandro visits often, mostly to talk with John about happenings with the club, but he always makes a point to find and say hello to you. Sometimes, Rudy or Valeria will join him. When Rudy does, he checks in with you, asking how you’re feeling and making sure your throat isn’t bothering you anymore before joining John and Alejandro. When Valeria visits, she skips out on business talk entirely, insisting on taking you out to go shopping or see the city.

“There’s no point in sitting through a bunch of information Alejandro will tell me about later,” she laughs with a dismissive wave.

You don’t see König or Roach at the house much, and when you do, it’s usually late at night, just as they're leaving John’s office. John never tells you what they come for, but he’s always a little more tense after their visits.

You don’t know how to describe John. The best fitting word that comes to mind is welcoming.

He lets you have half the space in his massive walk-in closet, even though you barely have enough clothes to take up one of the shelves. He has you pick one of the spare bedrooms, telling you to redecorate it and turn it into whatever you want. You’re allowed anywhere in the house, save for the few rooms belonging to the other club members, to do anything you want.

The freedom is almost overwhelming.

When he senses your hesitance, he assures you that he wants you to feel at home, that this space is as much yours as it is his.

You let yourself explore over the weeks but do your best to stay out of the way of club business; it’s not that you’re not curious, you just…don’t want to know, don’t want to be involved in the stress of it all.

You’ve dealt with that enough in your life. It’s a new era for you, and you’re determined to hold on to it for as long as you can.

-

When Rudy gives you the okay to perform again, you nearly tackle him in a hug. Even if it’s only for the first half of the show, you’ll take what you can get.

Farah switches out with you during intermission, and you head for the bar, where Alex already has a stool open for you.

“Feel good to be back?” he asks, smiling wide as you take your seat.

“It feels amazing,” you laugh. He slides you a glass of water, briefly turning to tend to another patron.

Someone clears their throat behind you, tapping you on your shoulders. There’s a dull thrum of pain, but you ignore it and spin in your seat to find König staring down at you.

“Boss wants you upstairs,” is all he says before turning and walking away.

…okay?

You finish your water, giving Alex a quick wave before heading to the club’s second floor.

You pass a few private game tables, not finding John at any of them, and head towards the few closed-off rooms.

You don’t need to guess which one he’s in when you turn the corner and find Ghost standing guard outside the door.

“Everything okay up here?” you ask as you approach.

“Nothing unusual,” Ghost gives a slight shrug, his shadowed eyes flitting about the hallway.

“Then, mind if I…?” You point to the door behind him. He nods, taking a step to the side to let you through.

The room is dark, low-lit, and filled with cigar smoke and laughter. You make your way through the haze to the poker table at the center of the room, where John sits with Nik and a few other men you’ve never seen before. A couple of them have women with them, barely dressed and making more effort to distract the other players than paying attention to their companions.

Something tightens in your chest, fight or flight buzzing around the back of your mind.

Sitting in a dark room, shoved in a barely-there dress, put on display to distract the other players. The threat of being left to wolves should you fail looming over you.

John wouldn’t that to you.

He’s not the same as—

“There she is!”

John reaches out to grab your hand as soon as you’re near and kisses the inside of your wrist.

“Care to join us?” John asks, staring up at you with a look of adoration that sends a shock of straight want down your spine. “Could use my good luck charm.”

Nik barks out a laugh, “With the way you’re playing, you need more than luck.”

“You don’t have to,” John murmurs, while the others are too busy with their laughter and jokes.

The softness in his voice puts your anxiety at ease. Of course, he’d never force you to be somewhere you didn't want to be.

“Why not?” you shrug, smiling as he tugs you forward and pulls you down to sit across his lap. A hand settles around your waist, a soft kiss pressed along the curve of your neck, and the cards are dealt.

You watch while they play, bets higher than anything you’d be comfortable with. They’re pretty good, but you’ve spent a lot of time around poker tables and even more time around liars. You wait until the final community card is flipped, and the man directly across from you—the last one left in the game against John, older with dark, greying hair—blinks three times and makes his bet before you lean into John as if to kiss his neck.

“He’s bluffing,” you whisper, following it with a kiss before you straighten up. John doesn’t acknowledge you, blank face trained on his cards, but you feel a small squeeze of your hip where his hand rests.

John calls, and the two reveal their hands. It’s not even close, your observation correct, as John wins by a landslide.

He presses an appreciative kiss to your shoulder. You catch Nik smirking at you, and you wink back at him.

The game continues well into the night, and you don’t leave your place in John’s lap. The two of you take it easy, letting John lose a few games while still winning a majority. You play the part, batting your eyes at the others with a flirty smile so they think nothing more of you than John’s arm candy while you lean in to pepper kisses along his neck and whisper hints in his ear.

By the time they call it quits, the left side of his neck is covered in your lipstick, but he’s a few hundred-thousands richer.

“Quite the good luck charm you have there, Price,” one of the men next to Nik—red-headed with one of the scantily dressed women pressed against his arm—laughs, drinking you in with a leer that sets you on edge. “Maybe next time, I’ll try her out.”

John laughs, but you can feel how hard he tenses beneath you.

“She’s spoken for, I’m afraid,” he says with a polite smile, pressing you just a bit tighter against him.

“Sure,” the man laughs before turning to mumble to the others, “Must be all that good luck she’s rubbing off on him,” The others laugh along, save for Nik, who focuses on gathering the cards on the table.

“Go wait outside for me, Dove,” Price speaks quietly. You nod, standing from his lap.

You lean down to kiss him on the cheek before smiling to the table. “You girls want something to drink? It’s on me!” The three women glance at each other before noticing the tension rising in the room and nodding. They follow you out, and you direct them toward the bar before turning to Ghost.

“You might wanna head in there,” you tell him. He nods, waiting until you’ve turned down the hall to go inside.

You spend the next hour with the women at the bar, having a fantastic time as they drink and dance and tell you all about how awful their men are in hilarious detail, probably having their first taste of freedom in a while.

You understand. You’ve been there before.

They leave for a fifth dance, and this time you decline, far too exhausted to keep up with them.

As soon as they’ve disappeared into the crowd, you let out a long exhale, letting yourself lean against the bar.

“Tired?” a baritone voice murmurs into your ear, strong arms sliding around your waist.

“A little bit,” you sigh, turning to face John. “Everything go okay?”

He hums, one hand pulling off your waist to wrap around yours and bring it to his lips. He leaves a lingering kiss on your fingers, eyes holding your gaze as he allows you to see the dried blood and bruising on his hand.

“Probably should go home and wrap this,” he sighs, trailing kisses down the side of your hand to the inside of your wrist.

“Is he still breathing?” you ask, giving your best attempt at a look of disappointment despite the smile slowly growing on your face.

“Unfortunately,” John scoffs, pulling you closer so his mouth can continue its path up your arm.

You click your tongue at him, rolling your eyes in fake annoyance as you pull your hand out of his embrace to set your hand on his cheek. “You don’t have to do that whenever someone says something like that to me. It’s bound to happen.”

His brows knit together, concern and confusion drawn across his face.

“Not to my girl, it isn’t,” he says, firm and final.

“John—”

“Get a room, you two!”

You’re startled apart as Soap and Kyle reach the bar.

“Hey, let the old man have his fun!” Alex scolds through poorly held-back laughs. John groans, head falling into the crook of your neck as the three burst with laughter.

“Ready to go home?” you laugh softly. John nods into your shoulder, stepping back from you with a long sigh and deep reluctance. He takes your hand in his, pulling you away from the bar as the two of you are followed by cheers and shouts of:

“Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!”

“Take it easy on him, Starling!”

“Have fun!”

Your first priority will be taking care of John’s beaten knuckles. The fun can come after that when you thoroughly thank him for defending you.

-

It isn’t unusual for John to be up late, either busy at the club or in his office.

Just as it’s not uncommon for you to go to bed alone. Of course, he makes up for it by making sure you never have to wake up alone, but you still miss him on nights when work comes first.

To make up for his absence, you take to wearing his shirts as pajamas, melting into the rich smell of him that lingers on the fabric as you sleep. When he’s finally done for the night, he often finds you lying on top of the covers, snuggled down into the fabric of his shirt. It’s a sight that fills him with equal parts adoration and want, something that he will never get tired of seeing.

You always wake up whenever he finally joins you for the night, moving so you can get under the blankets and let him pull you into his side. Sometimes, he talks to you about his day until you’re lulled to sleep by the soft vibrato of his voice, and sometimes, the sight of you in nothing but one of his shirts leads to even longer nights spent touching and feeling and worshipping until your voice leaves you.

Sometimes, it leads to nights like tonight, you laying beside him with your head on his chest, listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart while he trails his fingers in nonsense shapes across your back.

Things are fine, content, even downright serene until he skims over a ridge of the scar on your shoulder, and you tense instinctively, hissing softly under your breath.

He pulls back immediately, “Sorry, sweetheart.”

One thing about John: he never pushes.

He knows about the scar, knows how you go out of your way to cover it up, how you flinch whenever someone touches on that side. He observes, stores the information away in his brain, takes care to avoid touching you there, but he never asks you about it.

“It’s alright,” you sigh, rolling your shoulder, trying to get the ache to leave.

You want to tell him. You have for the last month, but every time you think to bring it up, something catches in the back of your throat, gnawing at you until you back out.

It leaves you with an awful sort of guilt, one made worse by the fact that you don’t have anyone to confide in about it. No one to bounce your ideas off of. No one to reassure you that John’s opinion of you wouldn’t change if he knew.

You trust him implicitly.

He’s never given you a reason not to.

You can’t keep complaining about being haunted if you won’t let go of your ghosts.

So, in the quiet darkness of your bedroom, you suddenly sit up, throwing one leg over him to place yourself in his lap, and set your hands flat against his chest.

“Did Kyle ever tell you I was married?” you ask softly.

John goes still beneath you.

“Things were good at the start. Or he made it seem like they were so I wouldn’t realize what he was actually doing, but over time that façade he put up melted away, and I—I realized how big of a mistake I actually made.”

He doesn’t speak, but John’s hands settle on your thighs, gently kneading into the bare skin.

A small attempt at comfort.

A silent I’m here.

“He never hit me or anything like that. He found other ways to hurt me, ways that would be harder to prove if I ever left, and he had this…charisma—he was so likable and charming that whenever he’d say no one would listen to me, I’d believed him. One day, he—” Your voice catches, and John’s hands slide up to your hips as he sits up and sets his forehead against yours.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he whispers.

“I want to,” you reply. It takes a second for you to collect yourself, and you’re still not sure you’re ready, but you push yourself to do it anyway. “One day, I just snapped. I couldn’t take the snide comments, the vague threats, the constant anxiety—I couldn’t do it anymore. I tried to leave, and he tried to stop me, and we got into this huge argument. He grabbed my arm, and I pulled away too hard, not watching where I was going…and broke my shoulder, falling down a flight of stairs.

“I try not to think about it a lot, but my shoulder never really healed properly, so sometimes even the smallest touch just makes it ache, and all I can think about is that day, lying at the bottom of the stairs, wondering if it wouldn’t have been easier to have broken my neck instead.”

The pain lingers, but there’s a considerable weight that lifts from your chest.

There’s a beat of silence before John moves again, gently grabbing your hand and setting it on his chest, guiding your thumb along the skin where you feel a small raised circle underneath the hair.

“One of the first deals after I’d just started the club,” he sighs. “Went in all cocksure and arrogant, thinking I knew everything and that no one could touch me. The dealer we were meeting with had this idea that we were overcharging him, which we were, but we weren’t going to tell him that.

“Well, I got mouthy, and his men got violent. He pulled a gun, and the friend I was with, the man I’d started this club with, shoved me out of the way. Bullet tore through him but slowed down, going off kilter just enough to miss my heart. The Hell I unleashed after my recovery is what laid the foundation for what the club is today, but sometimes…Sometimes, I think about him, and I wonder if it was a fair trade. If it wouldn’t have been better for me to have taken the bullet and let him be here instead.”

A trade. One painful memory for another.

An implied confession: you’re not alone.

You lean forward, a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

I’m glad you’re here.

He pulls you into him, lips colliding with yours.

I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.

Your hands wind their way around his neck as he flips the two of you, laying you down against the bed. He hovers over you for just a second, blue eyes gazing down at you with far too much emotion for you to handle. You pull him by his hair, and he follows your lead, closing the space to pour all that emotion into a kiss that you return with the same intensity.

I love you.

-

If there’s one thing John loves more than surprising you, it’s spoiling you.

It starts with jewelry, small boxes of simple, elegant bracelets and necklaces left on your vanity during your performances.

Then it extends to clothes, your half of the closet slowly filling with pieces you find when he takes you shopping. He carries your bags for you, and you repay him by modeling every piece of lingerie you buy when you get home.

When it’s his turn to handle date night, there’s always some outrageously fancy restaurant or sold-out showing waiting for you, everything complimentary, and the staff exceptionally welcoming to the two of you.

Spoiling you isn’t restricted to expensive gifts, either.

When you catch a cold in the middle of spring, John takes the day off—something Kyle says he apparently never does, and something he can’t afford to do, says Ghost—to tend to your every need.

He overhears you talking with Valeria, telling her how you’d love nothing more than to sink into a hot bath, and you come home to a candle-lit bathroom and a tub filled with warm water and bubbles. He washes your hair, massages your shoulders, and whispers in your ear all the things he plans to do to you once you’re out of the tub.

You appreciate every single thing he does for you and tell him so often. He shrugs it off, saying he’s happy to treat you the way you deserve.

In truth, there’s something else, something far more selfish, that drives him.

He loves you. He loves to see you smile. He loves the way your eyes light up when he takes time away from the club to spend it with you—something he finds himself doing more of recently, an attempt to escape the stress and paranoia that’s been building.

He loves it even more that it’s him that’s making you happy, that he’s the only one who can make you smile like that, laugh like that, moan like that. You’re his just as much as he’s yours, and he has no intention of ever letting you go.

"Zip me up?"

Especially not now, when you’re standing in front of your bedroom mirror, half-dressed in a gown he bought for you, trying to get ready for a gala.

You look like a dream, dress hanging off your figure as you gaze at him over your shoulder with that beautiful look on your face. The one that always makes him feel like a shy teenager stumbling over his words.

John steps up behind you, and you turn a little more to meet him with a soft kiss. You turn back to the mirror, standing up straight to give him access to the zipper of your dress and the bare expanse of your back.

You wait patiently, adjusting your jewelry here and there. So distracted. So trusting. It tugs at something in his heart how vulnerable you allow yourself to be around him, a man with so much blood on his hands, they're stained down to the bone. Yet here you are, allowing him to touch you, to stain your skin with that blood and violence and danger that will follow him for the rest of his life.

He doesn't know what he's done to deserve you, but you meet his eyes in the reflection, giving him that stunning smile, and he knows it doesn't matter.

He'd burn the world to the ground if it meant he could have you in the ashes.

-

It’s the middle of the night when Ghost walks into his office unannounced, carrying a small, black folder.

“Bit late for you, isn’t it?” Price asks, looking up from the journal on his desk.

Ghost doesn’t speak, walking up to the desk and setting the folder down. Price sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before picking up the folder.

“Are you going to tell me what this is, or do I have to guess?”

“Tried calling you.”

“Phone’s in the bedroom.”

“You’ve been gone a lot.”

“Is this late-night visit for something important or just so you can tell me you’ve missed me?” Price doesn’t mean to snap; the irritation that he’s having this conversation instead of finishing up his work so he can join you in bed grinding against his nerves.

“We found the man that attacked Canary. We know where he’s from.”

Price’s eyes shoot up to meet Ghost’s. Ghost looks about as tired as he does, and Price can’t blame them. Things have been tight for months, walls slowly closing in around the club.

There’s something else in his face, something that sets Price on edge.

Price knows Ghost, knows the man who’s been by his side for years, helping to take care of every dirty deal the club’s had to deal with.

Ghost has a certain detachment, no care about what he’s doing or who he has to hurt to do it.

It’s not Ghost he’s talking to, but Simon who’s staring down at him with sadness and pity.

“Look in the folder,” Simon sighs.

Price doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to know about whatever’s in here, what information he’s about to have to deal with. He wants to throw the folder back at Simon and bury his head in your neck, ignoring the rest of the world.

But he’s the Boss for a reason.

He sets the folder down, steeling himself with a deep breath, before flipping it open.

A stone sinks into the pit of his stomach, and his heart shatters.

“Oh.”

The mask slips back on, Ghost’s protective nature taking over as he watches Price visibly deflate.

“How do you want me to handle this?”

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[lovelyiida]

THE RACE TO WEDDING BELLS ❤︎︎

CHAPTER 1: THE SIMPLETON; YOU.

"accept calls from strangers."

❥ SYNOPSIS: as the years passed, Bakugo realized he was the last among his class to tie the knot. As the days grew colder, and the nights became lonelier. Bakugo finds the desire to get married, but he doesn't really feel like falling in love. At least he has his trustee secretary!

implied fem reader, aged-up! Pro-hero MHA characters over the age of 27, vulgar language, suggestive wording and content

❥: CHAPTERS

❥ MASTERLIST

❥ JOIN TAG LIST!

WORDS: 6.7K

You are a hard-working citizen, you are straightforward, diligent, focused, and most of all. You don’t take anyone’s shit.

Since a young age, you harbored grand aspirations of collaborating with the renowned hero Dynamight. Even during your high school years, witnessing the fledgling hero proclaims his ambition to become the top hero to millions of viewers on live national television deeply resonated with you.

He was a hero you admired deeply, whether that was in combat or in any other position.

Driven by an intense desire to be in close proximity to the fiery and passionate hero, you applied yourself with unwavering diligence. Night after night, you immersed yourself in rigorous study, methodically reviewing each cue card until the ink was exhausted and the pencils were rendered brittle from the forceful strokes onto your notebook.

Before you knew it, you graduated college majoring in hero analysis with a minor in communications.

the first few years after college were hard, without any significant connections, you had little to no experience beforehand to get any major positions in well-affiliated agencies.

Pizza for breakfast and granola bars for dinner, staying up for days and sleeping fewer nights. Going to countless amounts of interviews, passing trial after trial.

yet denied, denied, denied.

you began to lose hope, you felt that all the hard work you did was for nothing. You were fearful of the eventual future set in place for you. A dead-end office job at some random corporate office that could barely pay the bills, "comfortable" housing, and an urge to die because you never lived up to your expectations.

On a rain-soaked day in Japan, a biting chill permeated the air as the relentless downpour battered your umbrella, the droplets cascading off its surface with effortless ease. As you made your way from yet another failed interview, the weight of repeated rejection hung heavily upon you.

This time, however, you didn't feel particularly upset about it. The hero's demands were simply unreasonable, and you had no intention of acquiescing to such outlandish requests. After all, the hero's accomplishments were hardly noteworthy and their reputation was far from impressive. Barely reaching the top 100 rated heroes in Japan, he wasn’t worth any second of your time.

With a resigned sigh, you trudged out into the bustling streets of Japan, surveying the sea of faces before you with a critical eye. Among the throngs of people passing by, you observed carefree children strolling hand in hand with their parents, and trendy teens sporting high-waisted shorts and fishnet stockings, flaunting their disregard for the curfew that surely awaited them.

The distinction between the two groups of people made you notice something…you either abide by the rules or defied them.

So then what were you?

You were the simpleton of course, sadly...

Like so many others trudging along these rain-soaked streets, you found yourself caught up in the unrelenting hustle to secure a job that would never truly fulfill you. Your expression was weighed down by the burden of this unending search, with a heavy heart and a growl in your stomach. you absentmindedly made your way into a nearby ramen shop.

the chill of the rain subsides to the warm embrace of the restaurant. Bustling voices of citizens and the loud clanks of kitchenware. you were greeted by the workers and you bowed. setting your things down at an absent table, you look over to the ordering tablet. clicking a couple of buttons, you ordered your meal. Before you could sulk in your seat, your phone buzzes.

Jolting in surprise, you pick up the phone to read the contact name:

UA WORKFORCE CORP.

Your eyes lit up with unbridled joy as a rush of adrenaline surged through your body. The reason for this sudden surge of excitement was none other than the prospect of being selected as a trainee with UA Corporations, whether it be through the prestigious school or one of the legendary hero agencies affiliated with it.

It all began last year when you submitted your application, and the possibility of this dream finally becoming a reality now had you feeling electrified.

Around a couple of months, you've passed through multiple rounds of other people who have applied for the position. Interview after interview, test after test, you knew that if you got the job you'd be on the track that led you to your dream.

"hello!" you said excitedly.

"yes, hello, is this l/n y/n?" a woman says on the other end of the line. You quickly confirm your identity with the woman. "hello there, I'm here to give you acknowledgment of the results of the final round pick for the UA CORP. affiliates position." the woman's voice rang through your phone, heart beating fast...breath staggered your reply.

"y-yes?" you stuttered.

"Yes, l/n, I'm sorry to inform you--"

[CALL ENDED]

With a swift press of a button, you ended the call, throwing your phone onto the table you sit in silence. tears began to stream down your face as you lowered your head to the table. Your body was wracked with sobs, each tear that fell causing your breath to catch in your throat.

why are you not good enough?

As the weight of reality bore down on you, your tears flowed even harder, your throat constricting as you tried to swallow. Was all your hard work for so reason? Are your dreams non-attainable? Is this just not the past you're destined to take?

After a moment, you sat back up in your seat, heedless of the tears and makeup staining your white button-down shirt. With red-rimmed eyes, you reached for your phone and began to scroll through Google, determined to find some sort of solution to the crushing blow you had just been dealt.

'office jobs near me.'

biting your lip, you try and stop your lip from quivering. you felt as if you were destined for despair since you were a child.

Like so many others, you too idolized heroes when you were young, running around your house with makeshift masks and capes that resembled the same heroes you watched on TV. Full of youthful hope and possessing a fairly decent quirk, you dreamed of one day joining the ranks of these legendary figures.

Fast forward a few years, and you found yourself in middle school. After a long day of classes, you trudged your way back home, collapsed onto your bed, and drifted off into a deep sleep, ready to take on whatever the next day had in store for you.

but the only thing is, you didn't wake up.

you didn't wake up for another three days to be exact. when you finally awoke in the hospital, your parent broke the news to you. You seemed to catch a very rare parasite, this parasite can leave the host sickly with fever, very drowsy, and worst of all...

quirkless.

The following week at school, you shared the news with your classmates: you were essentially quirkless now. But instead of receiving words of encouragement and hope, you found yourself labeled an outcast by everyone around you.

"the girl who lived, but at the cost of her quirk."

Years later, the news still shook you to your core, and you couldn't help but feel stunned. present day, you've noticed that you could still use your quirk from time to time. around 10 times a year, your quirk would come and go in little spurts. but as time grew long, you became accustomed to not using it for a long time, so you never did.

so now here you were, alone, quirkless, and a soon to be slave to the corporate world.

cheeks stained with mascara, eyes red, and head pounding, you look over to the ordering tray, sliding out the hot ramen ready to be consumed.

"at least this ramen can make me feel better," you mumbled to yourself. Taking the large bowl from the tray, you set it out on the table and began to dig in. As you eat, you begin to scroll ok your phone looking for regular office jobs…

Manager at printing company? No.

Office associates needed at tech company? No.

Receptionist at steel company? No way.

Senior communications analyst? What?

Scroll, scroll, scroll.

Deny, deny, deny!

This can’t be your reality right? How are you going to break this down to your parents?

Deep in thought, you didn’t even realize that someone slid in your booth. Tapping away on your phone, you open your messages.

Group chat: Mom & Dad

you: hanging in there! So close!

letting out a sigh, you open the camera app. Looking at the screen you see yourself, torn up from the floor up. Eyes a faint pink contrasting from the red they were a few moments beforehand. Pressing your lips together into a line, you quickly tap your screen to flip your camera.

Flipping your camera, you stare at the screen. A man appears on the other side, as he looks at the camera in embarrassment.

Eyes widening you gasp, “Excuse me, but there’s other seats around,” you try to sound as nice as possible, but why should you be nice if today hasn’t been so nice to you back?

The man was covered in black from head to toe, black hood on tight, as he looks at you. Black-shaded glasses and a matching face mask on him.

“Um, can I sit with you please?” He says.

Rolling your eyes, you become irritated, “no. now if you can please move–“

“Please, I can’t sit alone, people will notice me!” He whispers, body leaning in towards you, jolting backward, you frown in confusion.

“What?” You say, tone cold and filled with irritancy.

“Um…listen this is the only time I’ve got to myself, and I love this place! And if people see me alone then they’ll notice me, so can I just please sit with you?”

Blinking rapidly, you grew quiet.

Looking around, you see no one looking toward you or the mysterious man ahead of you. Looking back, you then sink into your seat. Grabbing your face with your hands, you soon let out a deep sigh.

“Sure, fuck it, go ahead, this day can’t possibly get any worse!” You laugh to yourself. This makes the man’s head tilt. “May I ask why your day is bad?” He says. Removing your hands from your face you give him a deadpan look. Licking your lips you sit up from your chair and grab your utensils.

Stirring your noodles around you let out a dry chuckle, “Let’s just say things never go the way I want them to—and there’s also a random man in front of my face when I could really like being alone at the moment…the small things.”

You say, sarcasm drenched with every word you spoke. This makes the man laugh, “Sorry your day has been shit.”

Leaning into his seat, you crossed his arms. “Maybe I can make your day better? Go ahead, have at me,” the man says.

Letting out an irritated sigh, you confess.

“The only thing that can make me happy at the moment, is if you can somehow give me a job at UA Corp.”

You chuckle, the utter impossibility of what you just said made it humorous. “Really?” The man says. “Really,” you replied back.

“I think I can do that,” he says, his tone relaxed and suave—he sounds as if he can in fact…do that.

“As if,” you snort.

“You wanna make it a bet?” He says, his tone was playful and a tad bit flirtatious. “I can get you to work for the top pro-hero’s in the country, all I need to do is make the call.” He says as every word falls off his tongue with no effort.

This peaks your interests.

“You don’t say?” you reply back.

“Who do you want to work for sweetheart? Just give me any name.” He says.

“Okay…Dynamight, I—I want to become a secretary! That’s the position!” You say, your tone desperate and hopeful.

The man smirks behind his mask, “Okay.” Pulling out his phone, he hands it to you. “Give me your number, you’ll be getting a call soon.” He says, biting your lip you grab the phone and do as he says.

You're well aware of the dangers of blindly accepting what strangers say; it's like common sense 101. And yet, here you are, drawn towards a man who's covered in black from head to toe. It's not the smartest move, but there's just something about him that makes you want to place your faith in him. You can't quite put your finger on it—maybe it's the intensity of his gaze, or the air of mystery surrounding him—but you can't help but feel a strange attraction towards him. It's a risky move, but sometimes you just have to trust your gut, even if it defies all reason.

“Do you promise?” You spoke softly, this earns a chuckle out of the man, “Of course! You’re making a deal with a god—not a devil.”

As you gaze into the stranger's dark eyes, you can't help but feel a shiver run down your spine. There's something about him that doesn't sit right, and whatever god he may or may not represent, he's not exactly acting like one. But despite your reservations, you continue to chat with him, and as the conversation flows, you begin to let your guard down. Eventually, you find yourself sinking back into your seat, pouting slightly as you polish off the rest of your meal. You can't quite put your finger on it, but there's just something about this mysterious man that's drawing you in, despite all the warning signs.

You're not quite sure how to process the choices you've made, given how impulsive they were. It's not exactly the wisest decision to act on a whim fueled by intense emotions, but you simply didn't give a damn. Life's been pretty rough lately, and if things are already this bad, then why not make them even worse? That seems to be your thought process, as you ride the waves of your tumultuous feelings, consequences be damned.

throwing your utensils into the empty bowl, you gather your things and shuffle out of the booth. Standing before the mysterious man, you frown. "are you going to eat anything?" you ask.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna eat somewhere else...you've made me have a taste for something different." Soon, the man jumps out of his seat and walks away, brushing past your shoulder with ease.

Astonished, you look back and watch the man leave out the restaurant in a hurry.

What just happened?

for the rest of the day, you carried yourself through your regular routine. eat, think, cry, repeat. As day turned to noon, and noon falls to night...you grew anxious for a reply from the mysterious man you met earlier today. Heart pounding and blood running cold you sit in your apartment kitchen, your phone a couple of feet away from you on the kitchen counter. As you were sitting on the other side, the wooden chair creaked with every movement you made.

You didn't know what to think of the situation before you, looking around the apartment, the shadows grew as you fell deeper into the times of night. Looking at the clock, it read 10:39pm.

Letting out a sigh, you rise from your seat and grab your phone. you head into your bedroom, crashing onto your bed (that could be softer) you lay and stare at the ceiling.

"Is this my life now?" you questioned yourself.

You purse your lips and shut your eyes tight, hoping to drift off into slumber and escape the terrible day that's left you feeling like crap. Sleep seems like the perfect distraction—a chance to shut out the world and forget all the stress and negativity that's been weighing you down. With a deep breath, you try to clear your mind and let yourself sink into the warm embrace of sleep, hoping that tomorrow will be a better day.

RING RING RING RING

RING RING RING RING

RING RING RING RING

the sounds of your phone sound an alarm through your body, shooting up from your bed you scramble to your phone. breath staggered and heart pounding, grabbing the phone you read the contact number.

ANONONYMUS CALLER

eyeing the phone more, you read the time. 5:57am? It's way too early to be answering calls...but you knew this call could be important. Taking in a deep breath, you answer the phone.

"h-hello?" you say, you breathed hard onto the other end. Anticipating the voice on the other end of the phone. A moment has passed by, the phone still attached to your ear, you sit on your bed waiting for someone to speak.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" you ask again, you hear nothing but static on the other end. Swallowing your spit, you curse and begin to end the call.

"l/n, isn't it?" a familiar voice rang out, eyes widening you press your ear back onto the phone. "yes! This is she!" you softly exclaimed.

"you've got the job, I'm sending you the location of where you need to be...meet me there at 8:30am sharp not a minute before, not a minute after. Do you understand me?" the voice rang cold, monotone, and raspy.

your heart was jumping out of your skeleton at this point, unable to refuse, you complied. "Okay! Thank you again, for helping me...whoever you are," you say.

"Don't mention it, you'll know who I am, and soon everything will fall into place," maybe you were hearing things, but you could hear a twinge of humor in his tone.

before you could reply, the phone disconnected from the call. you couldn't believe it. "I'm working for Dynamight?" you say aloud, in disbelief. A smile etched onto your face, but you soon wiped it off.

Standing from your bed, you began to pace. "let's not celebrate now y/n, there are still many factors that need to be noticed..."

factors which are:

where is this location?

this could be a trafficking scam

you could be dead in a couple of hours

but what if it was real?

The power of belief was astounding—it seemed that the mere possibility of something being real outweighed all other considerations tenfold. Excitement bubbled up inside you as you prepared to head to the location, eagerly zooming around your room to fix your hair and makeup. You even practiced your best customer service voice, running through lines and mentally rehearsing how you would handle different scenarios. All that mattered was making a good impression, and the prospect of the unknown made your heart race with anticipation.

"How can I help you Mr. Dynamight?" "Your meeting is scheduled at this time Mr. Dynamight" "Would you like any coffee Mr. Dynamight?" you in your sweetest voice possible. Giggling in excitement you reach for the bottom drawer of your dresser. Pulling the drawer, you smile with excitement.

"The time has come, you're finally getting what you deserve." Looking down at the clothes before you, you planned on wearing this outfit for the first day on the job.

You expected to find your outfit covered in cobwebs when you pulled it out of the drawer, but to your surprise, it was in impeccable condition. Not a single wrinkle marred the pristine fabric, and there wasn't a single stain to be found. You had ironed and steamed everything to perfection, determined to look your absolute best. Your outfit was the epitome of sophistication - a classic white button-down paired with sleek black work pants and matching heels. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as you admired yourself in the mirror, ready to tackle whatever challenges lay ahead.

throwing your clothes on, you read the clock, 7:51am. eyes widening, you look at yourself in the mirror one last time before grabbing your things and rushing out the door.

flagging down a taxi, you hurriedly give the driver the location. your heart leaped from your chest once more when you read the location details on the screen.

DYNAMIGHT RIOT HERO AGENCY ©

this is seriously happening? you thought to yourself.

"you work there ma'am?" the taxi driver asks. a new rush of pride washes over you, "yes, I do...it's my first day." you say, a shy smile paints over your face. "congrats, I heard it's not so easy getting a job at places like that, my niece tried to work there but got denied after 2 years of interviews."

"wow," was the only word that could come out of your lips.

"how'd you get in? connections?" he pries. "um...you could say that, but I think I got here out of pure luck, you wouldn't believe it." You chuckle, the man smacks his lips at your reply, obviously upset at your success. Forming your mouth into an "oh," you sit back in your seat and look away from the man.

The silence between you and the man lingered awkwardly for what felt like an eternity, as the taxi sped on for the next 20 minutes. You were relieved to finally see the agency's headquarters looming up ahead, massive in size and bold in color. The building stood tall, almost like a skyscraper, with bright hues of red and orange radiating from its walls. Your eyes widened in amazement as you watched countless people streaming in and out of the entrance, going about their day-to-day business. As the taxi slowed to a stop, the driver tried to navigate his way toward the front of the building, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and nervousness at what lay ahead.

"Thank you!" before the taxi could even stop, you jump out of the vehicle. Throwing your total amount for the ride into the car, you slam the door and rush towards the building. Clutching your briefcase tight, you swallow the lump in your throat.

Before stepping forward, you feel your phone vibrate. It's another text from the man you met yesterday.

ANONYMOUS:

walk into the building and head straight into the right elevator by the bathroom, when you get in go to the 21st floor.

when you get there, there will be a front desk. ask for red. tell them your name, and they'll know who you are.

a lady will lead you into a room, wait there until further notice.

"Here goes nothing," putting the phone away you do as you were told and walk into the building. you were absolutely astonished by the size of the first floor, to the point where you became overwhelmed. businessmen and woman hustling to their destination, mascots dancing to the faint music, trying to stay on the beat but the sound of children screaming in amusement drown out the tempo. tour guides leading the way for curious visitors.

This place was a workplace war zone...

Letting your heels carry you away, you head towards said elevators. you waited patiently in line to enter the elevator. looking at the elevators, you look at the vinyl art on it. It's a picture of Dynamight and his partner Red Riot, fists in the air and victorious smiles shining bright you read the quote on the elevator.

"Work hard, grab victory by the throat, and win!"

Very Dynamight coded, you'll say.

Packing into the elevator like sardines, you notice there's an assistant there who presses the buttons. Do they seriously need a position like that here? "Floor 21 please!" you yell out. You notice the multiple workers give you an unreadable look, frowning you hang your head low in embarrassment.

After a good 2 minutes of waiting your turn, you finally reach your designated floor. squishing past the still rather large group of people, you take in a deep breath of fresh air. Holding your briefcase tight, you look back and thank the assistant.

"good luck, you'll need it," the assistant and everyone else in the elevator starts to burst into a fit of laughter. Confused, you were about to ask why but the elevator quickly closed. Adjusting your uniform, you bite the inside of your cheek.

"Don't let them get to you y/n, this is your dream," you reassure yourself, stepping towards the front desk. you see a lady, her mid-forties at least. typing rapidly at her computer. "Excuse me, ma'am," you say softly, you watch as the lady's typing comes to a swift halt.

"yes?" she says, rather rudely, still looking at her computer.

Blinking, a little bit held back from shock "Hi, I'm here to see Red? I-I'm l/n y/n." The lady soon lets out a chuckle, turning away from you, she opens up a drawer and pulls out a paper. Pulling at the paper, she grabs a pen and writes your name down and hands you a name tag sticker.

As you examined the sticker more closely, you couldn't help but cringe at its childish design. Tiny caricatures of pro-heroes adorned the borders of the "Hi, my name is!" label, and you felt a pang of embarrassment as you peeled it off and quickly slapped it onto the left side of your chest, right over your heart. It was a small gesture, but it hurt your pride to have to wear something so unprofessional.

"Please walk into that room over there...and also, word of advice, you should start wearing all black," the lady smirks, taking her hands and running them down her body. showing you that she is in fact, wearing all black. Looking down at your white shirt, you face heats up from your embarrassment. "may I ask why?" you say. The lady continues to do her work, not even giving you a look of acknowledgement.

Nodding, you give a polite bow and head into the waiting room. As you walk into the room, you're filled with shock. the room was quite large...but there was only one seat? Deadpan in the middle of the room, the metal chair sits unharmed. you laugh out of nervousness, the sight of the chair makes the embarrassment you felt merely seconds ago wash away.

Walking to the seat, you sit and patiently wait. The sound of the fluorescent lights buzzing, at the white noise, fills your eardrums. you quietly tapped your fingertips against your briefcase to the imaginary beat in your head. looking around, all you see is the grey carpeting and white walls, and the tv straight ahead of you.

You waited for a good 30 minutes in silence, distracting yourself on your phone as you waited, and waited, and waited. You constantly kept checking your messages, hoping for another anonymous message, but was left with a dry phone.

letting out a sigh, you frown. "is this some joke?" looking around the room, you spot a security camera behind you in the corner of the room. it's blinking red light flashing into your eyes, turning around you ponder to yourself.

"This must be a joke, that's why everyone has been laughing at me this whole time. I should've never came here," defeated, you began to gather your things. As you stood up to head for the door, the lights soon cut off. you let out a yelp, walking in the dark your hands extend out for the chair behind you, soon with a sigh you sit down. The tv you saw soon cuts on, a bright white screen shines and takes over the whole room.

"WELCOME L/N Y/N!" the screen says blankly, the text blinking on and off, if this was supposed to invoke excitement, it's doing the bare minimum. you stare at the screen and wait for anything else, but the screen soon goes black. another minute in the dark passes by as you sit in your seat absolutely dumbfounded.

The screen turns on again, this time there's faint music sounding from it. soon you see a random person on the screen, probably a paid actor. "hello there fellow newbie! Welcome to Dynamight Riot Hero's Headquarters! Today, I'll be with you along the ride as we both become secretaries!" the actress, obviously way too happy to be here inquiries.

after watching the 10-minute-long do's and don't's video, the screen blinks to white again. squinting your eyes at the bright light, the black sans serif font shows on the screen again.

KEY REMINDERS:

DON'T TELL ANYONE YOU'RE A SECRETARY!

BE A GOOD WORKER!

ALWAYS BE ON TIME!

AND MOST OF ALL: WORD HARD!!

soon after the screen turns off, a couple of seconds go by and the room lights flash back on, you hiss as you cover your eyes so you don't get flash-banged for the fifteenth time. eyes still covered, you hear a door open and footsteps walk towards you.

uncovering your eyes, you look towards the floor to adjust to the bright white lighting. "so sorry, just give me a second!" you nervously chuckle. "don't worry, take your time!" the voice says politely.

wait, that voice.

It's the man you saw yesterday! Your hand soon uncovers your eyes and you look up. "It's you-" eyes shooting wide, your hand flings towards your mouth.

Red Riot?

"ah, guilty as charged! Happy to see me and not some creep aren't ya? You really need to have a better guard, I could've just been anybody!" he laughs. A frown soon shows on your face, "so you were the guy at the ramen restaurant? Why the hell was you there?" you growl. The pro-hero frowns playfully at your attitude.

"tone, little miss! that isn't a way to talk to your new boss. you know, I thought we let in a complete stranger for a second! you look so different when your face isn't soaked with tears and runny mascara." he jabs at you with a mischievous grin which makes you roll your eyes.

"Whatever. And Boss? Dynamight's my boss!" you argue. Red Riot rolls his eyes at your words, "Last time I checked, my name is out on that building and in that shitty little video you just watched." He says, somehow sounding so polite cursing at you. "And you're gonna wish you worked for me and instead of him by the end of the day"

looking at him, your frown never left your lips, "can we start now?" you say.

"Sure! right this way!" he says, walking away from you, you hurriedly grab your bags and walk alongside him. before you could reach the door the hero turns and blocks your way from seeing the other side.

"Also, uh...wear all black next time." he says, his eyes travel down your figure, and you bite your lips in embarrassment. "why?" you ask. "Because it is a thing we do here, we want everyone to be seen as equals to us, we are all people here at the end of the day, hence we all wear the same thing. Plus, it's because we say so and it looks cool." he chuckles to himself at his last words, turning around he walks away.

As you walked into the office setting, you couldn't help but feel a sense of shock and disbelief. Everywhere you looked, it seemed like the people around you were robots going about their tasks with mechanical precision. Everyone wore the same drab black outfits, and you couldn't help but wonder if it was some kind of strange joke.

The more you walked, you could feel the eyes of the other employees snapping toward you, their stifled chuckles and whispers following you with every step. It was as if they were all in on some kind of inside joke, and you couldn't help but feel like an outsider in this strange, black-button-down world.

As Red Riot led you around the office, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe wash over you. Here you were, walking alongside one of the most legendary heroes of all time. It was hard to believe that this was actually happening - that you were standing in the same room as Red Riot himself. Despite your nerves, you couldn't stop smiling as you walked, eagerly listening to every word that he had to say. It was as if you were soaking up every moment of this incredible experience, committing it all to memory so that you could remember it forever. As you continued to explore the office, you knew that this was a moment that you would never forget.

"And here's our final stop! The boss's office, the one and only Dynamight's quarters" he says. "you'll be in and out of here often, so get ready for that," he chuckles. you quickly nod at his words, "before I let you in this room, do you have any questions?" he asks. you shake your head no, licking your lips you look forward at the doors. The golden plate shined brightly as it read his name:

PRO-HERO DYNAMIGHT: かつき ばくご

"Alright then!" soon, the hero bangs on the door. "see you around, fresh meat! by the way, cute sticker" he laughs, walking away from you. You were left standing in shock, did he just leave you here all alone?

"Come in," you hear a voice say. eyes snapping towards the door. You let out a shaky breath. Grabbing the door handle you slowly twist. "don't be a pussy y/n, you wanted this!" you whisper to yourself. Pushing the door open, words couldn't express the emotions you felt at this moment. Looking at your one and only inspiration in front of you, in all his glory.

Dynamight!

The sun was rising outside, casting a golden light over the room and illuminating the blond hair of the number one hero. As he looked into your eyes, you couldn't help but notice the way that his amber irises seemed to glow in the light. It was as if he was lit from within, radiating power and confidence. You took a quick glance at his attire and noticed that he was wearing a simple black shirt and matching sweatpants. It wasn't exactly business casual, but who were you to judge? This man was the number one hero, after all. He could walk in wearing a clown suit and you wouldn't bat an eyelash.

"You're the new hire? Right?" he says, his voice deep and captivating, way calmer than what you've seen on tv as it is early in the morning. You nod your head, the hero guides his hand towards the open seat in front of his desk, you follow and sit in the comfortable leather chair.

"Yes, my name is L/n Y/n!" you spoke softly, "I know." He spits back, you blame it on the early mornings. "Here are some ground rules we need to set in place, firstly..."

As he continued to speak, you found yourself hanging on his every word, completely swept up in his presence. It was almost surreal to be sitting across from the pro-hero, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and disbelief. You quickly pinched your thigh, just to make sure you weren't dreaming.

As you looked at Dynamight, you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach. Seeing him in person was a completely different experience altogether - and you couldn't help but think that he was even more attractive up close. Maybe it was the fact that he was being so soft-spoken with you at the moment. How many people had actually seen him like this before? You couldn't help but wonder if this was a rare occurrence, and you silently thanked the heavens and the stars above that you were one of the few lucky ones to witness it.

The way his muscles flex as he holds your résumé–

Wait, how did he get your résumé?

“Excuse me?” You chime in, the pro-hero hangs his head low for a moment. Lifting his head up, he lets out a sigh, “I don’t like to be interrupted…" he looks down at your name tag for a mere moment, "l/n” he says. “I’m sorry I just have a question,” you state.

“Shoot,” he says, sarcasm oozing from his tone.

“How exactly did you get my résumé?” You asked, “What? Did you think we weren’t going to do a background check on you? You could be some psychotic fan for all I fuckin’ know,” he says, the morning rasp in his tone sends you ablaze as heat rises to your face.

“Oh! Right, well I’m not so,” you awkwardly chuckled. “Yeah I know, you’ve gotta…pretty good lookin’ résumé here,” the hero flips through a couple of pages, confirming his words.

You couldn’t believe it, the Dynamight called you qualified for the job! “Thank you so much! It means a lot to me that–“

“Okay listen, l/n, it’s early in the morning, and me and my partner just came back abroad from a goddamn mission. So imagine how I feel sitting here at this desk talkin’ to you and filling out these papers instead of in my bed sound fuckin’ asleep. I’m gonna need you to tone it down alright?” He says, his tone raises as he grows irritated at your chipper attitude.

Blinking you bow in your seat, “I’m sorry Mr. Dynamight!” You spoke softly. “Don’t call me that, please just…don’t.” The hero rises from his seat and walks towards the door, you quickly stand up and follow suit.

“What should I call you then?” You spoke, his back facing towards you, the man let out a deep sigh, his palm cradling his neck. Rubbing the sensitive spot as he quietly hisses in pain.

“Just call me Dynamight, I don’t need people to go around calling you a lost puppy looking for their owner with the damn honorifics,” he says.

A brief moment of silence enveloped the large office, as the sound of the ticking clock grew increasingly louder with each passing second. Suddenly, Dynamight broke the stillness with a deep, audible sigh, turning to face you with a look of slight exasperation on his face. It was clear that he had a lot on his mind and a lot to worry about. And it seems like you're not making it any easier.

“When you came up here to this room, I hope you noticed why everyone was laughing at you. I want you to take what you went through into deep analysis…l/n.” He says, tone sharp and crude as his eyes bore into your being.

“Why’d you sit in that waiting room with only one fuckin’ chair? Eh?” He says, a hint of humor in his tone. Your frown at him, looking down you try to really think back as to what happened.

“I’m sorry, Dynamight—I’m not sure.” You spoke, this makes the hero frown. “The reason why—is because every secretary that has worked for me, has quit.”

oh.

Swallowing your spit, you nod understanding the real reasoning behind the dirty looks and laughs. “Every single secretary that has been under me quits in no less than three months you wanna know why? Because of me.” He says as a sinister smile tugs at his lips, almost as if he’s proud of it.

“Well…how do you know that I’m not different?” You mumbled. The hero lets out a chuckle, because—I got a feeling you won’t last a month. You can prance around here with your happy attitude and white button-down, but I and you both know that you’re supposed to wear black.”

Why the hell does wearing black matter so much here?!

“So you’ve already defied me once, you get three strikes, no if, and's, or but's about it. And we both know what happens when you get to strike three,” he says smugly. “Don’t we?” He asks. Frowning, you hung your head low to avoid his fiery gaze.

“Yes…Dynamight, we do.”

You couldn't deny the fact that you were a little bit scared about what the future held for you here. But at the same time, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation as you walked through the office. You were determined to make the best of this opportunity, even if it meant dealing with a difficult boss or two. After all, you were ready to face any challenge that came your way, as long as it meant being able to take this incredible opportunity.

“Good,” he says, his smile drops and he soon opens the door, letting it slam onto the wall. This makes you jump, you quickly gather your things and follow behind.

You watch as all the employees ride from their seats and greet the hero. But he doesn’t give as much as a mumble back in reply.

“You’re going to be following me around for the day, can you do that task?” He asks, you nod and speak, “Yes, Dynamight I can.”

You were happy to be alongside the hero, he was your inspiration, your happiness, your sadness, but little did you know from now on.

You’d hate his guts.

HEY GUYS! Honestly did not expect for this to blow up, thanks so much for the kind words! ALREADY CLOSE TO 600 FOLLOWERS? It’s literally been two days you guys are crazy!! I wanted to make sure that I got this done by today, even though this literally took me forever to complete.

I have so much on the way, trying out a different format for my theme. Hope you guys take notice in it. Till then!

— 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐢𝐝𝐚 ❤︎︎

❥ : @skeletonblush @smolbeanzzz @gold24fish @stablecreator93 @itgetzweird08 @xo-evangeline @akqsa-xxi @gaby-11 @suchagoodgirlxoxo @r-ans @hunny-hotline @superkittywonderland @jolynegf @sad0nion @nar00 @gingerbread-ginza @noxva08 @xaslieex

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

If it weren’t a bother, i request 📖🥰🔞💻 :)

Thank you, you do not need to hurry!

Business Merger - Kurt Goreshter/Reader

Warnings: If you aren't in love with Kurt yet this might make you be cause oh my god I love him so much, gender-neutral reader, no use of Y/N, light grinding, oral, slight handjobs and fingering as prep, smut, pillowtalk /)w(\

Wordcount: 5337

Summary: You hated blind dates. Everyone knew this about you. So when your longtime friend claims to have gotten you a date with the hot guy on TV you don't know whether to hit her or kiss her, maybe by Friday you'll be able to tell.

Notes: My first fic with Kurt 💗🥰💗 I love him so much, I was giggling and kicking my feet as I tried to write as much of this at work as I could /)w(\ I also took so long you had a birthday, so ayyy happy birthday! I almost didn't write this one since I felt uncomfortable filling a smut request for a minor, but it all evened out naturally, and I see you in my notes all the time, so thank you so much for the request and I hope you like it 💗💗💗

You'd never been one for blind dates, for starters. Everyone knew this about you, how you preferred to get to know someone first before doing anything like meeting them, but when your longtime friend and co-worker briskly walked up to you that morning you knew you were in for trouble without even needing to know the reason.

‘How'd the merger go?’ you asked the moment she opened her mouth, but your attempts at saving yourself from whatever she had to say would not dissuade her today.

‘Potential merger, and that's precisely what I wanted to talk to you about,’ she told you excitedly; great, you'd walked right into it. ‘Y'know how we all thought they were small-time and this would be an easy buy?’ You did very much so, it was the talk of the office all week, one more small startup swallowed up by the big boys upstairs. ‘Well it turns out that they're the ones who stopped those guys last weekend! Y'know, the ones on TV who got interviewed when Ant-Man was splashing around the bay!’

‘Oh shit, that's who they were?’ You'd watched that report live, fascinated by the explosion on your feed about how one of the rogue heroes who fought alongside Captain America himself was now making an appearance after two years.

‘Yes! They still showed up for the merger, even after all that, and, get this, Harland doesn't even want to take them over anymore, he wants to make them affiliates! They're gunna have a floor here come August!’ She was clearly excited, with how hyperactive she got over normal things it must've been difficult for her to keep her composure while it was all going on, and you felt the need to commend her when she continued and stunned you silent. ‘But that's not the best part; a few of us got to talk with the guys afterwards over dinner, and guess who's got a date for Friday Night.’

‘Hmmm… is it you?’ You raised an eyebrow at her, she was always the one to get the dates growing up since she tended to outshine everyone in the group no matter who you were with, but she just shook her head and bit her lip with a wide grin.

‘Nope,’ she practically vibrated, that feeling that you were in trouble arising again seconds before: ‘It's you! We started talking about some other people from around the office and I brought you up and one of them thought you sounded nice, so you're meeting him in four days!’

You were stunned. You were genuinely, honest to God stunned. She'd known you practically all your life. She was basically an honourary sister to your family at this point. And she still went against your one rule against blind dates and with a local celebrity no less.

‘You're too happy to speak, I knew you would be, it's been a while since the last one, yeah? Don't worry, he might be a little eccentric but he was very nice, I almost asked him out myself, but I figured you might be a better match for him.’

You didn't know whether to be flattered or insulted, at least this date would be with a superhero, that would make for an interesting conversation starter at least. ‘Okay, well, I think I can handle a date with Ant-Man, yeah, that might be doable-’

‘What? Oh, no, your date is with his friend, the hot one with the hand tats.’ Again you were stunned silent, a deep blush spreading over your cheeks in not only remembrance of the man in question and how he was indeed hot, but also because you had no idea how you were going to pull off this not-so-blind-date with someone you knew nothing about other than that your boss almost bought him out. ‘I knew you'd be excited, you're so red- okay okay, so here's the address, it's that nice place over by that coffee shop we like, you know the one, he said he'll be waiting outside so you can go in together so do not be late, do you need me to write all this down, actually? Lemme grab a pen-’

Oh yeah, you were definitely in trouble.

The rest of the week went by in a blur, your thoughts on what the hell you were going to wear to this fancy as hell restaurant he'd picked out and what the hell you'd even say to him. You knew nothing about him other than the basics, that he was Russian thanks to the interview, that he was good with computers and worked with security thanks to your job wanting to buyout his, and apparently that he'd been in jail for five years thanks to the whispered word around the office. All four of them had, including Ant-Man himself which was incredibly interesting, but you'd never even stolen candy from the shop down the street when you were a kid, what were you going to have in common with this guy?

You were decent with computers, but that was only because you liked video games, and you were pretty sure this hardened criminal turned security expert (which now made sense to you) wasn't going to talk to you about the latest mobile games that were advertised to you no matter where you looked. This was why you hated blind dates, all of this was too stressful, everything you planned beforehand was just bouncing back to you as a negative, he wouldn't care, this was going to end in disaster. Hell, maybe the date would go so bad he'd convince the others to not accept the affiliation and they'd find someone else to partner with; you'd definitely be fired for that one, your entire job and livelihood were now on the line thanks to this date, if you didn't impress this guy you could lose it all-

You felt sick to your stomach as you called a cab to the restaurant, your outfit pristine and overly expensive as to impress him, your hair neatly styled and making you look sophisticated, and your stomach so upset that every bump in the road was about to make you ruin the upholstery.

There were already cars lined up outside, the valet taking their keys and switching out with the woman behind him, and you realized that a cab was not the right move to impress as the rich people outside looked down their noses at you. You resisted the urge to look down back at them if only to save the little you had for lunch as you stepped out, your hands clasping together as you nervously scanned the crowd for his somewhat familiar face.

You turned when you heard your name, your cab driving off and revealing the man jogging across the street to stand with you, and your face lit up at the sight of him; his hair was impeccably styled just as it was in the interview, which you definitely hadn’t watched about 50 times for any hint of what to say, and while he did wear a suit he also wore a leather jacket overtop, the collar upturned and making him still look a bit different than the people around you. You couldn't help but stare as he approached, his smile nervous but very excited as he gently grabbed you by the shoulders and kissed both of your cheeks. 

‘I’m Kurt, from the meeting; is nice to meet you, your friend, the loud one with expressive eyes, she show me photo on the phone,’ he explained as his right hand remained on you, and it took you a moment to realize how tall he actually was when he stepped up onto the curb with you. ‘Reservation is for hour from now, I wish to know you better before we settle on whether to proceed with dinner or no, your friend said you would like that more than the “blind date,” as she called it.’

You made a mental note to buy her lunch as you nodded, the people around you staring at him as they tried to figure out if he was dangerous or not between the jacket and the heavy accent and the tattoos, and you felt protective as you took his hand and started off down the street.

‘Did you have anything in mind?’ you asked as you walked, and he looked around before pointing to the café you liked, your steps hurrying in excitement even though you were going to have dinner later.

‘Coffee?’ he just asked, and you nodded as you walked inside, dressed to the nines, and grabbed a table by the window. He pulled out your chair for you before sitting down across from you, the baristas who were already very familiar with you but not your date whispering behind the counter, you saw out of the corner of your eye. ‘Is nice place, I see as I head to work but never been inside,’ he thought as he looked around, his jacket now on the back of his chair and only making him look all the more dressed up without it.

‘Yeah, I come here almost every day, it's my favourite place,’ you said as you gazed upon the familiar decor, the smell of coffee and the sandwiches they made mixing perfectly with the donuts and other treats, your stomach growling as it eagerly waited for you to get your usual. ‘So, uh… what do… I mean I already know what you do for work, and I guess you know what I do? So um, what else do-?’ You were floundering, you were going to going to blow it, you were going to lose your apartment-

‘Forgiving me if I might be making you nervous? Your friend did saying you were preferring to talk beforehand, but when I heard about you…’ You instantly calmed as your expression softened, he was looking at you so genuinely as he rested his arms on the table, was… was he nervous? ‘You're looking so stunning tonight, your picture, it did not do you justice.’

You didn't realize your mouth was a little agape until you snapped it shut again, and when he smiled at you it was almost apologetic.

‘Sorry, is been a while for me, have I offended you?’ he then asked in response to your silence, and you were quick to sit forward and reach for his hand to make sure he stayed where he was.

‘No, no it's not that, it's just… it's been a while for me, too,’ you admitted to him, and he just smiled again before looking a bit more relaxed.

‘Good evening, may I take your order?’ The barista, Moina, someone who definitely did not have Waitress as part of her job, had approached while you were distracted, and you hid your face from her as he looked impressed with the service.

‘No, we're just talking before dinner,’ you tried to say, but your stomach growled again as Moina tapped her pen against her notepad with a smirk.

‘I'll bring you your usual, is there anything you would like, Mr….?’

‘Goreshter,’ he answered, the name sounding so good when said by him that it made you want to hear more. ‘Do you have the menu for to look over?’

‘She's not a waitress, she's just nosy,’ you revealed, and he nodded in understanding. ‘I guess one donut can't hurt our appetites too much.’ You stood together, Moina hurrying back to prepare your coffee while her co-worker eagerly awaited the gossip before the two of you walked over and instantly made her stop. He admired everything in the display cases, the large array of coffee ignored as he eyed up the pastries instead. You had been kidding, there was no way you'd fill up on sweets before what was going to be a painfully expensive dinner, but he didn't hold back as he motioned for someone to come over.

‘I'll be taking two of these,’ he told Moina as he pointed to the red-filled danishes on display, and she nodded as she got out two and placed them on some small plates on the counter. ‘Black coffee, also.’ His order was ready the same time yours was thanks to its simplicity, and you got out your wallet to pay for your own coffee when he held out his hand. ‘No paying, not when we're still on date,’ he just said, and you could only nod as he paid for yours as well and escorted you back to your table. You sat down and went to take a sip when he pushed the second danish towards you, it was a gift, and you were in the middle of trying to refuse when he shook his head and lifted his own. ‘You wish to know me, know I enjoy such desserts.’

‘But dessert before dinner?’ you asked conspiratorially, but he was already taking a bite, so you had no choice but to accept his kind offer. It turned out that the red was raspberry, and you hummed in enjoyment of it as you quickly took a second bite; that was what you loved about the place, no matter what you tried they always nailed it. He nodded in agreement to your enjoyment, and when your mouth was empty you took that sip of coffee, Moina making it exactly the way you loved yet again.

You talked casually as you ate, and you noted how the girls lowered the lights for atmosphere in your corner of the café as you listened intently to him speak. Never once did you bring up what happened at the bay, and only after you'd been talking for almost an hour did you learn that the Scott he was talking about was actually Ant-Man. You didn't realize you were late for your reservation by five minutes until you got a text from your friend, the question of if you'd had a fun time alerting you to the time, and you quickly got up and gathered your things; you'd taken off your own jacket ages ago, his suit coat joining the back of his chair, and he watched you disappointedly before you motioned to the door.

‘It's 8, we're gunna miss our reservation,’ you told him as you went to run your dishes back to the counter, Moina calling for you to leave them from her spot by the espresso machine.

‘You wish to continue?’ he asked hopefully, and you smiled just as hopefully as you nodded at him. He stood and grabbed his coats, his arm outstretched for you to take as you headed back out into the night, thumbs up from your friends the last thing you saw before the door closed behind you. Thankfully the restaurant was basically right next door, the walk over fast as you approached, but the new people heading in took one look at the both of you, linking arms, giddy from the pleasant conversation, with your coats hanging off of your free arms, and decided that you weren't good enough for this place. He straightened himself up, ready to walk in, but you held him back, your cheeks flushing again as you looked up at him.

‘Hey, why don't we do dinner at my place instead?’ you suggested carefully, your heart racing as he looked to the doors and then back at you.

‘I would prefer that, this place too trashy for my date,’ he agreed, the people around you offended as you then flagged down a cab, only for him to lead you to a parked van nearby. It was decaled professionally for his business, and the front seat was high and roomy as he helped you up to it, and when he joined you in the driver's seat he lifted your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles. ‘Where to?’

You fumbled your address twice before giving him the correct one, and something in the air changed as he pulled into the parking lot dedicated to your building. He followed you all the way up to your apartment, your nervous chuckle of, ‘Well, this is me,’ making him move a little closer to you as you unlocked the door and pushed it open. You were glad you'd cleaned in your panicked nervousness as he took in your place, your hands shaking a little as you took both his coats and laid them over the back of your couch after hanging up your own. ‘Uh, let's see what I've got in my kitchen, or we could order out? I can make a mean chicken parmesan though, or a burger? Whatever you're up for.’

You were nervously talking again, the change of location had completely reset you but for a different reason as he turned to face you, and behind that serious expression was something else; he was also nervous still, but there was excitement in there as well as the hope from before, and you swallowed when you realized you were backed against your table. 

‘I can also order a pizza, if you'd like,’ you tried to continue, but all thoughts of eating went out the window as he lifted your hand to his mouth again. He took his time, kissing each of your knuckles all the way to your fingertips before placing your hand against his cheek, and the warmth of his skin was electric as he stepped so close to you but didn't make contact, he was waiting to see what you wanted.

‘ты мне очень нравишься,’ he whispered into your palm, and you felt your breath catch at it all, your mind not even processing that it wasn't even English at first. ‘I really like you,’ he clarified when you tried to ask what he said, and your eyes widened in excitement as he moved even closer, ‘I was very much happy you accepted the date.’

‘I am too, I mean, I like- I like you too,’ you whispered, your voice just barely escaping as he brushed his thumb over your jaw, and when he suddenly leaned down to kiss you you felt the sparks run down all the way to your toes. It was chaste, and he pulled away just as fast like he was surprised with himself, his body moving away from yours as he instantly apologized.

‘Forgiving me, I did not mean-’ he started to say, now he was the one panicking about messing everything up, and you just smiled before pulling him back down to continue the kiss.

He relaxed the moment he knew it was okay, your body leaning further and further until you were bent over the table, your back hitting the cold wood and your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him close. He groaned into your mouth, were you really about to do this? But one shift of his hips against you made you realize yes, yes you really were as you tangled your hand into his hair and made him do it again. He obliged, your body shifting up the table with each short thrust, your mouths only leaving the other to moan or pant, and when you could take it no longer you pushed him back enough to work on the buttons on his shirt.

‘Where is bedroom?’ he asked as he helped you, your heart pounding hard as he took off his shirt and stared down at you, and you only pointed down the hall before he was picking you up and carrying you. You kissed his neck the whole way there, and he found the correct door and placed you on your bed before helping you reach a similar state of undress. One by one your fancy clothes were tossed to the floor without a care, your perfectly styled hair a mess the more he kissed you and ran his hands through it. More tattoos revealed themselves to you as you became more acquainted with his bare skin, and they decorated him by staining his arm and chest black, souvenirs from his time in prison along with the ones on his hands. He was fit, with the tiniest amount of tummy, his skin plush under a dusting of hair that trailed down into his boxers, and you bit your lip at the sight of what eagerly awaited you underneath.

He didn't remove them though, just cupped the back of your neck and leaned you back until he was on his hands and knees above you; he spoke in Russian again, catching himself faster this time before telling you that you were stunning, the thrill calming a bit as he just looked down at you. ‘So lovely, from moment I saw I wanted to be meeting you,’ he said softly, a sudden thickness in your throat as you felt more adored than you ever had been before.

‘I was excited when she told me I would be seeing you tonight,’ you admitted, and he smiled gently before leaning down to press kisses from your lips down to your collarbone. You watched him as he worshiped you, his hands trailing over your sides as he moved further down, your chest heaving as he hooked his fingers under the band of your underwear. He spoke in Russian again but he didn't have to translate as you just nodded, your last article of clothing joining the others as he lifted your legs over his shoulders and kissed you again.

Your hands found his head as he moaned against you, not wanting to force him down but also really wanting to do nothing more than that as he gripped your hips, and when he silently encouraged you to move as you pleased you didn't dare offend him by keeping still. He knew what he was doing, his tongue just as talented as his hands must’ve been as your pleasure built, the thought of him slipping a digit or three inside of you making you jolt as a particularly good burst made you gasp. He didn't stop until you warned him, the hand in his hair tugging a little too hard and making him groan again, he wanted to finish but you needed him, you couldn't let him go home without him coming too, and you were not going to let it be via your hand after that.

He licked his lips as he caught his breath, the sight of him between your trembling thighs so enticing that you couldn't hold back, and you sat up just enough to grab his hands and guide him back up to you. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he kissed you, your head swimming as he laid himself flat over you, his weight feeling so comfortable and addicting that just the realization of waking up without him tomorrow morning was suddenly a painful thought even though it'd never occurred to you before. You clung to him then, scared that he might disappear, but he wasn’t afraid of your sudden desperation as he kissed you so softly it nearly made you cry.

‘I wish to have you,’ he asked against your lips, and you kissed him again before nodding, his forehead resting against your own.

‘I wish to have you too,’ you told him back, and when he sat back to slip his boxers over his hips and down his legs you thought that he might be the most beautiful thing on earth. Usually you weren't so sentimental, not for sudden hookups at least, but with him it felt right as he laid beside you and got you to straddle him. You'd seen it but he felt so large pressing against you, your throat thick again as you gave yourself a quick reprieve to grab the lube and condoms you kept in your nightstand, both rather neglected since your last relationship had ended. You felt nervously giddy as you tore open the condom, unsure if you should put it on him or if you should hand it over while you prepared yourself, your mind going blank as he whispered something you didn't understand and guided your hands down.

Wordlessly he helped you roll it onto him, his movements slow and patient as you felt his pulse under your fingertips; he was so hard you didn't know how he could be this calm when it was killing you, your body already aching to have him inside of you. He could sense your readiness but he just chuckled lightly to himself, his large hand wrapping around yours and trapping your palm and fingers around his dick as he led you to give him a slow stroke, then another, and another, his eyes glazing over as you got the picture and continued as he let you go and picked up the lube from where you’d placed it. 

You felt your breath still as he poured some onto his palm, a blush spreading down to your shoulders as he then coated his own fingers in it instead of letting you, and when he sat up and got comfortable against your headboard you crawled on your knees until you were on his lap, your hand still moving over him as he reached between your legs. ‘Tell me if it’s becoming too much,’ he told you, your lips parting before you felt him press against your entrance; instantly your back arched as he held you in place, a hiss escaping through his teeth as you squeezed him a little too hard, and you apologized as you quickly kissed him, each sorry eaten up as he started to finger you in earnest. 

You resisted the urge to ride him as he worked, your hand keeping a steady pace in return as you were stretched open for him, his hands truly just as talented as his tongue as he found that sweet spot inside of you that made your eyes roll back. He spoke to you again as he held you to his chest, but you weren’t sure what language it was this time as your waning orgasm was teasingly built up again. ‘D-don’t,’ you managed to say, needing to warn him not to do it too much, and he kissed your neck as he went back to stretching you instead, a second finger added and scissoring you open. You bit your lip and sped up your hand on him, now you the one to tease as he had to stop, the desperate groan in your ear telling you that he couldn’t wait any longer.

‘ты мне нужен,’ you heard him say before you were toppling to the side and onto your back, your body bouncing just a little before he was pushing your legs to your chest. ‘ты такой замечательный…’

You thought for just a moment that maybe he couldn’t concentrate long enough to translate anymore, English completely forgotten to him now that you were in his arms, and you wanted to hear more as he lined himself up and pushed inside as far as he could go. You share a breath as you both stilled, your arms around him as he clung to you and the sheets, time stopping as you looked up into his eyes. It’d never been like this before, usually if you were lonely enough for a hookup you’d quickly fuck and that would be it, but this was different, he was different as he let you adjust around him, his hand finding yours again as he kissed it before breathing shakily against your palm.

‘я хочу, чтобы это длилось вечно…’ His voice was so soft, his hips jutting slightly with every shift of your bodies, and you brought him back down to you as you wrapped your legs around him again.

‘Please,’ was all you could say back, and he kissed you as he started to move. His hand stayed grasped in yours as he thrust into you, a slow but still deliciously hard pace that had you rocked up towards the headboard with each one. Your nails dragged and dug into his skin as you clung to his back, presumably a curse falling from his lips as his free hand slid from your lower back to your hip. You couldn’t get enough of him, how each kiss still tasted like black coffee and danishes, how he was so big but he still held you soft enough that you wouldn’t even bruise, how even when his pace sped up a little he never stopped holding your hand.

You linked your fingers together and urged him for more, you weren’t even sure if he could understand you anymore as he just opened his eyes to look into yours, but one quick kiss was enough to break the barrier when you nipped at his lower lip. He smirked at you before flipping you back over, a laugh leaving you as you were effortlessly pulled back into straddling him; the top of his head hit the headboard in his excitement and you laughed again as he swore, but still your hands didn’t separate as he kept fucking up into you, his own big smile on his face when he saw yours. You braced yourself on his chest, right over another tattoo as you rode him, the angle allowing him to go even deeper as you arched back, his hand gliding over the expanse of your thigh, your hip, your stomach, your chest, all so he could commit you to memory.

‘ты красивый,’ he breathed, something in his tone making you stop and stare, and something in those words made the lump in your throat return until you were sniffling; you didn’t realize you were crying until he was sitting up, pulling you towards him, your movements stilling as he kissed away your tears and held you to him. He helped you move as you continued to ride him, your chests pressed together while he kissed your neck and held your face to his shoulder, more praise falling from his lips as it all became too much.

You clenched down around him as you came, and he grabbed your hip and guided you so you’d keep moving, your knees aching but you never stopped until he was laying back down again. You let him use you as he chased his own release, your hands now clasped between your chests as you caught your breath, and when he finally came you felt almost disappointed at the fact that you couldn’t feel him come inside you, a thought that had never occurred before now seeming so warranted as he collapsed onto the mattress. You didn’t let him pull out as you remained on his chest, your head in the crook of his neck as you watched his Adam’s apple bob with each swallow, and finally his hand left yours if only to cup your cheek.

‘милая моя… you… you are wonderful,’ he panted, his senses coming back to him as he kissed the side of your head, and you practically melted into him as you held him a little tighter.

‘It’s Saturday tomorrow, I hope you’re not planning on leaving,’ you tried to tease, but you couldn’t help the slight hopefulness that crept into your voice.

‘нет, I took weekend off for date,’ he said, his hand now brushing through your hair. ‘I did not want to hope, but…’ Your face flushed again, the thought of someone like him being so nervous about what you’d think of him making you feel more important than any date or partner had ever before. ‘Monday, we will becoming neighbours together, we start moving our stuffs into floor below yours, I’ll be seeing you more?’

‘Oh you’ll be seeing me a lot more, if you’d like?’ Your finger traced shapes over his chest, that hope arising again as you looked up at him, and when he smiled you had to stop yourself from confessing your love after the first date.

‘I would be liking that, very much.’

Maybe blind dates weren’t so bad, after all.

[solaneceae]

consume

a team bolas oneshot (read on ao3) tw: cannibalism, fuga impossivel references

“Hey, Slime. Can I eat your leg?”

The hybrid makes a huh of confusion, still adjusting his trusty gas mask over his face as he loots his own dead body, codified arm still glitching from fresh respawn. Cellbit can hear Jaiden and Étoiles conversing nearby, Bagi and Tina not too far from them, and the entire area reeks of blood and death.

Red Spawn had, strangely enough, become some kind of safe haven for now — people from all teams that were begging for a break, for a chat, for any modicum of normalcy had started to flock there as the end Day Four drew near: separated lovers falling into each other’s arms, Étoiles coaching everyone on PvP techniques regardless of affiliation (because the guy just thrived on being kind and helping people become the best version of themselves, it seemed. Cellbit appreciated that), his very presence a deterrent to anyone who would dare to come and break the temporary peace (BadBoyHalo).

And now that they didn’t have to look over their shoulder every second, the cat hybrid had started to think. A risky endeavour in a place such as Purgatory, but after exchanging a heated kiss with his husband and getting the sudden urge to bite his mouth off, he had started to wonder.

There were so many bodies around their spawn. He had seen many for the past few days, most of them belonging to his own team, but the urge to chow down on fresh meat had been nowhere as strong as right then with Roier, not even close. (First day had been the odd one out, as everyone in red team had lost their minds to the fog and joined in on that fucked up banquet.)

A hypothesis is blooming in his mind. He needs to test something. “Can I eat your leg?” he repeats to a befuddled Charlie, who looks at him, then at his body, then back at him. “I mean. Sure? Knock yourself out.”

Cellbit does — and it’s disappointing. It starts off nice, his heart hammering inside his ribcage as he severs muscle and bone and tendon to rip Slime’s leg off his still cooling body, saliva pooling in his mouth as his pupils dilate to eat up all the blue, and he can feel it, the thrill, the desire, the manic joy; but then he bites into it and the leg loses solidity, turning into green goop that tastes like grass and it’s so sour, like an unripe lemon. He spits it all out, grimacing — his palate and tongue almost feel burned. He forgot slimes were corrosive. “Tastes like shit,” he huffs, and Charlie lets out a disappointed aw.

Results: inconclusive. Cause: negative bias, because Charlie is a fucking slime and hence an outlier. 

He asks Jaiden next, and she shrugs and tells him to go for it. (Maybe they should be worried about how flippant they’ve all become about cannibalism, but that’s a problem for post-Purgatory them to deal with.) And this time, it’s good. Her flesh is tender and moist, just the right balance of muscle and fat, and he gets a sick sense of satisfaction as she watches him tear into her thigh with morbid fascination. “How do I taste like?” she asks him. He tells her ‘delicious’ between two mouthfuls of prime cut, and she smiles. “Nice! I’m glad.”

Contrary to what some might believe, he hadn't eaten anything off the Federation workers he had killed. Hadn't reached that point at the time. But now there he is, seeking an enemy body among the dozens of Jaidens lying around. When he finally does, he stares down at it for a long moment, and finds that he has no desire to sink his teeth into it at all. Mmh. He looks up to find Roier, still silent to mind his recovering lungs and plopping down signs that make Étoiles crack up, and he’s so funny and cute and strong and Cellbit wants to crawl into his chest cavity and— “Ah,” he realises, something old and crooked at the back of his mind finally clicking into place.

He thinks of Pac. He thinks of Alcatraz, of that desire that had torn its way into his brain as soon as he had seen that youthful, terrified face for the first time. He thinks of those nights tossing and turning, tongue flicking out in a nervous tick as he obsessively rotated the new guy into his mind from every angle, trying to imagine what his screams would be like, how his flesh would taste, how it would feel going down his throat. He thinks of the pure, unadulterated pleasure of finally making that fantasy a reality, details blurring into red-mist bliss and the song of Pac screaming and crying. He finds that if he had to do it all again, right now, he would, but not like this. This time, dream-Pac would offer himself willingly, repeating I trust you, I trust you as dream-Cellbit reverently slices through his flesh.

He thinks of that thing humans have, when they experience the urge to squish or bite when they see something cute. He thinks of the result of his observations, that he only enjoys eating people if he cares for them.

(Maybe he had loved Pac once, in a fucked up version of a crush distorted by his mania and lifetime worth of trauma. Maybe that was why he had done what he’d done. Now the engineer was more akin to a brother to him, close and important, but that obsessive attraction wasn’t there anymore.)

Maybe it’s just in his nature, to consume the very things he loves. “Something on your mind?” Jaiden asks him later, sleepily, her head resting against his side as the rest of the family dozes off within the Nest in a tangle of limbs and soft blankets. Cellbit shakes his head. “Just. Processing stuff.”

Jaiden hums, and Phil drapes one of his large black wings over them both. The conure chirps, flock, home, and the crow replies with a quiet yesyes.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hi~ can I request a headcannons of househusband!Eli Jang & 9-5 working!S/O? Also please include elementary school!Yenna too? Thank you in advance 💙

My god. I've completely misread this. Uhh. Will make it up in future, but clearly I have an Eli agenda I want to push so. Please forgive me. First for taking so long, and then second for responding with this GARBAGE heh.

Eli Jang x Reader: Returning home

G/N. Soft and featuring Workers!Eli.

Inhale, exhale. Repeat two more times.

Eli then removes his jacket, taking off the god awful Worker's badge with it and running his hand quickly through his hair.

A small routine to shake off the working day before stepping into the threshold of your shared home.

Where Eli is just Eli, and not a beast running around for Eugene and the Fifth Affiliates.

Where he is simply Yenna's dad and your partner.

Hearing the front door click, Yenna comes tearing out. Chubby arms held wide open, waddling with confident steps and shouting "Daddy!".

Another routine.

Eli scoops her up, smiling wide while she clings to his neck. Breathing in her scent as she garbles about her school day. Being reminded that for so long it was just the two of them against the world.

Time marches ever forward, and he wonders how much longer - how many more years he has of this greeting, this innocence, something too precious to fully put into words.

You lean against the doorframe, taking in the sweet sight. No matter how many times you see this, you never tire of it.

When your eyes meet Eli's, you exchange a smile.

Just the two of them. Until you came along.

"Welcome home," you say, voice becoming muffled as he also pulls you into his arms.

And then there were three.

Embracing and cuddling each other. Happy to be reunited even if it's only been a day.

.

.

Eli Jang understands clearly what he's doing with Workers.

It's worth it, he repeats over and over in his mind. Now his daily mantra, his driving force.

It's worth it, he convinces himself and find that it's no longer a lie as he holds you both in his arms.

He has promised you and Yenna happiness. He has promised himself that this cannot end in tragedy.

If it means he gets to keep you both, to protect his little family, to be selfish and be happy, then-

Eli will fight the entire world. He will do whatever it takes.

[yurimother]

'I'm in Love with the Villainess' English Audiobook Debuts

On Thursday, November 16, Seven Seas Entertainment released its unabridged audiobook adaptation of the first volume of Inori's I'm in Love with the Villainess (Watashi no Oshi wa Akuyaku Reijou). The audiobook, released under Seven Sea's audio imprint, Siren, is narrated by Courtney Shaw (Liz and the Blue Bird).

Initially released in English in 2020, the first volume of I'm in Love with the Villainess follows office worker Ohashi Rei, who is reincarnated as Rae, the protagonist of her favorite otome game. However, Rae is not interested in the fantasy world's many eligible royal bachelors from the game and instead only has eyes for Claire François, the antagonist. Rae uses her knowledge of the game and its world to get close to her beloved villainess and swears that she will save her from her ultimate fate when the revolution comes.

The audiobook edition is 6 hours and 54 minutes long. It is produced by John Marshall Media.

This seminal Yuri series is notable for its explicit focus on and discussion of different LGBTQ+ identities, including queer marriages and families. The series, which began as a webnovel on Shosetsuka ni Naro, is a sleeper hit. It was initially licensed in Japan as a digital-only light novel series by GL Bunko but gained popularity, especially in international markets, leading to multiple rereleases, adaptations, and spinoffs.

YuriMother gave the first light novel volume a perfect 10/10 review, calling it "A stunningly profound, entertaining, and queer title that eclipses other isekai and Yuri series."

An anime adaptation of the series is currently airing on Tokyo MX and streaming internationally on Crunchyroll. It is produced by Platinum Vision and directed by Hideki Oba.

The I'm in Love with a Villainess Volume 1 audiobook is available on Audible, BookWalker Global, Spotify, Google Play, and other major audio platforms. The second volume will be released on December 7.

You can check out the audiobook of I'm in Love with the Villainess Volume 1 today: https://amzn.to/3R6oUig

YuriMother makes a small affiliate commission from sales to help fund future coverage.

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

At one campaign rally after another, former President Donald Trump whips his supporters into raucous cheers with a promise of what’s to come if he’s given another term in office: “We will demolish the deep state.”

In essence, it’s a declaration of war on the federal government—a vow to transform its size and scope and make it more beholden to Trump’s whims and worldview.

The former president’s statements, policy blueprints laid out by top officials in his first administration and interviews with allies show that Trump is poised to double down in a second term on executive orders that faltered, or those he was blocked from carrying out the first time around.

Trump seeks to sweep away civil service protections that have been in place for more than 140 years. He has said he’d make “every executive branch employee fireable by the president of the United States” at will. Even though more than 85% of federal employees already work outside the DC area, Trump says he would “drain the swamp” and move as many as 100,000 positions out of Washington. His plans would eliminate or dismantle entire departments.

A close look at his prior, fitful efforts shows how, in another term, Trump’s initiatives could debilitate large swaths of the federal government.

While Trump’s plans are embraced by his supporters, policy experts warn that they would hollow out and politicize the federal workforce, force out many of the most experienced and knowledgeable employees, and open the door to corruption and a spoils system of political patronage.

Take Trump’s statement on his campaign website: “I will immediately reissue my 2020 executive order restoring the president’s authority to remove rogue bureaucrats. And I will wield that power very aggressively.”

That executive order reclassified many civil service workers, whose jobs are nonpartisan and protected, as political appointees who could be fired at will. At the time, more than four dozen officials from ten Republican and Democratic presidential administrations, including some who served under Trump, condemned the order. In a joint letter, they warned it would “cause long-term damage to one of the key institutions of our government.”

In the end, Trump’s order had little impact because he issued it in the final months of his term, and President Joe Biden rescinded it as soon as he took office.

But if, as promised, Trump were to change thousands of civil service jobs into politically appointed positions at the start of a second term, huge numbers of federal workers could face being fired unless they put loyalty to Trump ahead of serving the public interest, warn policy experts.

‘AN ARMY OF SUCK-UPS’

“It’s a real threat to democracy,” Donald Moynihan, a professor of public policy at Georgetown University, told CNN. “This is something every citizen should be deeply aware of and worried about because it threatens their fundamental rights.”

Moynihan said making vast numbers of jobs subject to appointment based on political affiliation would amount to “absolutely the biggest change in the American public sector” since a merit-based civil service was created in 1883.

One of the architects of that plan for a Trump second term said as much in a video last year for the Heritage Foundation. “It’s going to be groundbreaking,” said Russell Vought, who served as the director of the Office of Management and Budget under Trump. He declined interview requests from CNN. But in the video, he spoke at length about the plan to crush what he called “the woke and the weaponized bureaucracy.” Vought discussed dismantling or remaking the Department of Justice, the FBI and the Environmental Protection Agency, among others.

Vought focused on a plan he drafted to reissue Trump’s 2020 executive order, known as Schedule F. It would reclassify as political appointees any federal workers deemed to have influence on policy. Reissuing Schedule F is part of a roadmap, known as Project 2025, drafted for a second Trump term by scores of conservative groups and published by the Heritage Foundation.

Vought argues the civil service change is necessary because the federal government “makes every decision on the basis of climate change extremism and on the basis of woke militancy where you’re effectively trying to divide the country into oppressors and the oppressed.”

A Trump campaign spokesperson pointed CNN to a pair of campaign statements from late last year in part responding to reporters’ questions about the 900-plus-page Project 2025 document. The campaign said, “None of these groups or individuals speak for President Trump or his campaign… Policy recommendations from external allies are just that – recommendations.” However, the Project 2025 recommendations largely follow what Trump has outlined in broad strokes in his campaign speeches – for example, his plans to reissue his 2020 executive order “on Day One.”

Ostensibly, a reissued Schedule F would affect only policy-making positions. But documents obtained by the National Treasury Employees Union and shared with CNN show that when Vought ran OMB under Trump, his list of positions to be reclassified under Schedule F included administrative assistants, office managers, IT workers and many other less senior positions.

NTEU President Doreen Greenwald told reporters at the union’s annual legislative conference that it estimated more than 50,000 workers would have been affected across all federal agencies. She said the OMB documents “stretched the definition of confidential or policy positions to the point of absurdity.”

Trump’s comments about wanting to be able to fire at will all executive-branch employees suggest the numbers in a second term would be far greater.

Moynihan, at Georgetown, said US policies already grant the president “many more political appointees than most other rich countries” allow – about 4,000 positions.

“Almost all Western democracies have a professional civil service that does not answer to whatever political party happens to be in power, but is immune from those sorts of partisan wranglings,” said Kenneth Baer, who served as a senior OMB official under President Barack Obama. “They bring… a technical expertise, a sense of long history and perspective to the work that the government needs to do.” Making thousands of additional positions subject to political change risks losing that expertise, while bringing in “people who are getting jobs just because they did some favor to the party, or the president was elected. And so, there’s a risk of corruption.”

Such concerns cross the political aisle. Robert Shea, a senior OMB official under George W. Bush, called himself a hugely conservative, loyal Republican. But hiring people based on personal political loyalties would produce “an army of suck-ups,” he said.

“It would change the nature of the federal bureaucracy,” to remove protections from senior civil servants, he said. “This would mean that if you told your boss that what he or she was proposing was illegal, impractical, [or] unwise that they could brand you disloyal and terminate you.”

Biden has moved to block such a move. On April 4, the Office of Personnel Management, which in effect is the human resources department for the federal government, adopted new rules meant to bar career civil service workers from being reclassified as political appointees or other types of at-will workers.

The new rules would not fully block reclassifying workers in a second Trump term. But they would create “speed bumps,” said Baer. “To repeal the regulation, there would have to be a lengthy period of proposed rulemaking, 90 days of comment,” and other steps that would have to be followed. “And then probably the litigation, after that.”

“PLACES FILLED WITH PATRIOTS”

While assailing “faceless bureaucrats,” Trump also has said he would move federal agencies from “the Washington Swamp… to places filled with patriots who love America.”

But when he tried such moves before, the effect was to drain know-how, talent and experience from those agencies. That’s what happened in 2019 when Trump moved the headquarters of the Bureau of Land Management to Grand Junction, Colorado, and two agencies within the Department of Agriculture to Kansas City.

“The vast bulk of (headquarters) employees left the agencies,” said Max Stier, president and chief executive of the Partnership for Public Service, a nonpartisan group that promotes serving in government. It led to the loss of “expertise that had been built up over decades,” he said. “It destroyed the agencies.”

A 2021 investigation by the Government Accountability Office found that the BLM move pushed out hundreds of the bureau’s most experienced employees, and sharply reduced diversity, with more than half of black employees in DC opting to quit or retire rather than move to Colorado. The GAO also concluded that the USDA’s decision to move its Economic Research Service (ERS) and the National Institute of Food and Agriculture (NIFA) to Kansas City was “not fully consistent with an evidence-based approach.”

The two USDA agencies do statistical research and analysis. The ERS focuses on areas including the well-being of farms, the effects of federal farm policies, food security and safety issues, the impacts of trade policies and global competition. NIFA funds programs to help American agriculture compete globally, protect food safety and promote nutrition, among other areas.

Verna Daniels had worked for the USDA for 32 years, most of them as an information specialist at the Economic Research Service, when she and her colleagues found out their agency was being relocated in October 2019.

“I really enjoyed my job. I worked extremely hard. I never missed a deadline,” Daniels said. She said the announcement left her in shock. “Everybody was afraid, and it was happening so fast… We were given three months to relocate to wherever it was or vacate the premises.” She quit rather than uproot her whole family. “It was heart-wrenching.”

The Trump administration said moving the USDA agencies would bring researchers closer to “stakeholders”– that is, farmers. Catherine Greene, an agricultural economist with 35 years at the USDA’s Economic Research Service, called the idea ridiculous. “Every state that surrounds Washington, DC, has farming… I grew up on a hundred-year-old farm in southwestern Virginia.”

“We’ve all dedicated our lives to looking at farming in America, to looking at food systems in America,” Greene said. “I think the goal was to uproot the agency in such a way that most people would have to move on, and most people did. It was highly predictable.”

The other relocated research agency, the National Institute for Food and Agriculture, had 394 employees at the beginning of the Trump administration, said Tom Bewick, acting vice president of the union local for NIFA. Trump imposed a hiring moratorium that left positions unfilled as people moved or retired. By the time the relocation to Kansas City was announced, NIFA was down to 270 employees. “Once it was announced they would move us, we were losing 10 to 20 people a week,” Bewick explained. “We had less than 70 people make the move.” Five years on, he said, “We still are not the same agency, and we’ll never be the same agency we were.”

The USDA said the move to Kansas City would save taxpayers $300 million over 15 years. But the GAO said that analysis didn’t account for the loss of experience and institutional knowledge, the cost of training new workers, reduced productivity and the disruption caused by the move. Including such costs, the Agricultural and Applied Economics Association estimated the move actually cost taxpayers between $83 million and $182 million.

Greene, at the Economic Research Service, retired rather than move. After Biden took office, the BLM and the two USDA agencies moved their headquarters back to Washington, but also kept open their offices in Grand Junction and Kansas City, respectively. Greene said she worries for federal workers who might face the same choice in a second Trump term. “They mean business,” she said. “They spent four years practicing, and they are ready to rock and roll.”

To Stier, at the Partnership for Public Service, there is a huge gap between the perception and the reality of the role that the civil service plays across the country. “We’ve been doing polling on trust in government, and when you tag on the words, government ‘in Washington, DC,’ the trust numbers crater,” he said.

USING THE GOVERNMENT TO GO AFTER ENEMIES

On the campaign trail, Trump has regularly claimed, without evidence, that Biden and the Department of Justice are stage-managing various prosecutions of him – including state-level indictments in New York over falsifying business records and in Georgia, on charges of election subversion. Trump has used that false claim to say it would justify him using the Justice Department to target his political enemies. He’s said that in a second term he’d appoint a special prosecutor to investigate Biden. He told Univision last year he could have others indicted if they challenged him politically.

Trump tried to use the Department of Justice in this fashion during his previous term, repeatedly telling aides he wanted prosecutors to indict political foes such as Hillary Clinton or former appointees he’d fired, such as former FBI Director James Comey. He also pushed then-Attorney General Bill Barr to falsely claim the 2020 election was corrupt, which Barr refused to do.

In that term, some senior officials at the White House and the Justice Department pushed back against pursuing baseless prosecutions. Their resistance followed a tradition holding that the Justice Department should largely operate independently, with the president setting broad policies but not intervening in specific criminal prosecutions.

But in a second term, Trump could upend that tradition with the help of acolytes such as Jeffrey Clark, a former Justice official who faces disbarment in DC and criminal charges in Georgia for trying to help overturn the 2020 election results. As Trump tried to hang onto the White House in his final weeks in office, he pushed to make Clark his acting attorney general, stopping only after senior Justice Department leaders threatened to resign en masse if he did so.

Last year, Clark published an essay titled “The U.S. Justice Department Is Not Independent” for the Center for Renewing America, a conservative nonprofit founded by Russell Vought. Clark also helped draft portions of the Project 2025 blueprint for a second Trump term, including outlining the use of the Insurrection Act of 1807 to deploy the military for domestic law enforcement, as first reported by the Washington Post.

Trump also has talked about bringing to heel other parts of the federal government.

“We will clean out all of the corrupt actors in our National Security and Intelligence apparatus, and there are plenty of them,” Trump said in a video last year. “The departments and agencies that have been weaponized will be completely overhauled so that faceless bureaucrats will never again be able to target and persecute conservatives, Christians, or the left’s political enemies.”

Project 2025’s blueprint envisions dismantling the Department of Homeland Security and the FBI; disarming the Environmental Protection Agency by loosening or eliminating emissions and climate-change regulations; eliminating the Departments of Education and Commerce in their entirety; and eliminating the independence of various commissions, including the Federal Communications Commission and the Federal Trade Commission.

The project includes a personnel database for potential hires in a second Trump administration. Trump’s campaign managers have not committed the former president to following the Project 2025 plans, should he win the White House. But given the active involvement of Trump officials in the project, from Vought and Clark to former Chief of Staff Mark Meadows, senior adviser Stephen Miller, Peter Navarro and many others, critics say it offers a worrisome roadmap to a second Trump term.

“Now they really understand how to use power, and want to use it to serve, not just Republican partisans, but Donald Trump,” said Baer.

On the campaign trail, Trump leaves little doubt about what he’ll try to do.

“We will put unelected bureaucrats back in their place,” Trump told his supporters at one rally last fall. “The threat from outside forces is far less sinister, dangerous and grave than the threat from within.”

[thefiery-phoenix]

yandere h.c for Sam, too <33

Sure

YANDERE SAMUEL SEO HEADCANONS

There are no words to express how much I simp for this man despite him being a walking red banner lol 

If you've managed to catch his attention, all I can say is RUN. Although that wouldn't really do you much good either since he's the President of the Worker's Affiliates and he does have a lot of influence, being Eugene's right hand man(before stabbing him in the back) does have it's own advantages. You could be a regular cafe worker or a member of the Worker's Affiliates, whatever it is, when he lands his eyes on you the only thought that will be running through his head will be 'They're MINE' 

He's one territorial, possessive, obsessive and manipulative MF to say the least. He has no qualms even going as far as literally THREATENING the people you're close to, friends and family included just so he can be with you. A literal walking red flag, his arrogant cocky smirk itself should be obvious. He wants possess you and make you his completely, he'll fall HARD for you and when he does, he won't be able to come back from that chasm of obsessive love for you. You remind him of a small little prey, so helpless and naive and he likes it that way. Don't get him wrong, he does love you, in his own twisted obsessive manner of course 

Man here has abandonment issues to the core, daddy issues, Gun issues(Lol who doesn't) and insecurities as well but when you comfort him, he's confused at first, he's genuinely taken aback. It's been so long since he's remembered someone taking the time and effort to comfort him and make sure he's doing all right. He'll reply in a calm and stoic manner that he's fine but deep down his heart is racing wildly, he's secretly really glad you're taking the time to comfort him. He'd rather die than admit this but he does appreciate your gesture. He likes how innocent and sweet you are, which makes him want to protect you and keep you safe. With him. Where you rightfully belong 

He's really not above bugging your entire apartment with hidden cameras so he can get a glimpse of your daily life, it's like a window into what you do everyday. He finds it so amusing and thinks it's adorable how you haven't figured out that he's secretly watching every move you do. He'll have his men find out more about you and the amount of information he has on you, he's ready to write a whole freaking research paper about you, that's how well he knows you now. Your social media accounts, your contacts list and yes, even all those fan fiction sites you like reading and visiting...he'll have them all. He'll immediately block all the people he doesn't like, he doesn't want some random pest stealing you away from him. He'll get information on those annoying pesky friends of yours and his mind will be racing of thoughts on how to dispose of them as soon as possible so you'll be his in every way possible 

No matter what, Samuel is ALWAYS around you one way or another. If some random person tries to hit on you or something, the very next day they'll immediately be reported missing. People will start disappearing from your life like flies and it's all HIS doing. He either pays them money to prevent them from seeing you again or he'll just straight up murder them. Though he does lean towards the second option quite frequently. If you try to accuse him of something, he'll just smirk at you and say something like "Sweetheart, you're mistaken. I wouldn't act as rash and unprofessional as this..." Yeah Right

You'll be kidnapped pretty soon because no WAY is he going to stand by and let someone try to steal you from him. You're HIS. You'll wake up on his bed while he'll have his usual standard smirk on his face as his arms are crossed over his muscular tattooed chest and he strides over to you. "Ah good, you're awake...there are going to be some changes to your lifestyle now'' he says in a calm manner as he lights a cigarette and smokes it calmly, like everything is all right after he literally just kidnapped you. Scream and throw as many number of tantrums as you want, he'll just find you amusing. If you want to cry, he might pretend to be slightly annoyed at first but he'll sigh softly as he wipes your tears with his thumb and then whisper in that husky voice of his in your ear to be good for him unless you want your loved ones to be safe. Sadistic MF 

You, of course won't know the reality of what he actually does and he prefers to keep it that way. What you don't know won't hurt you. Though he might be unhinged at times, he has his soft moments with you as well. He likes to hold you in his arms and press soft kisses to the nape of your neck and steal a few kisses on your lips every now and then. His kisses on your lips always leave you wanting for more and slightly gasping for air, he's that good lol. He just likes physical intimacy with you a lot. He might not be too expressive by words about his feelings of love for you but he believes that his actions are enough to make up for them. If anyone else touches his hair, he'd have broken their hand by now but if it's you, he'll have a soft smile on his face and pull you on his lap as he hums contentedly. It really HAS been a while since he's felt so happy and he couldn't have been more thankful since you came into his life 

He'll take you out for dates in fancy restaurants and spoil you with whatever your heart desires. Or if you want to have a quiet night in, that could be arranged too with you in his arms. I seriously pity the poor fool who tries to hurt you or steal you from him though. He will straight up TORTURE them with the way he fights. He loses complete self control when he fights, his mind is like a beast filled with pure unadulterated anger and rage as he breaks the bones of whatever schmuck dared to set their filthy eyes on you. Or he'll just kill them, not after banging their head to the wall over and over again and stomping on their face as he calmly smokes a cigarette (because MOOD) and he'll end up choking the person to death with one hand. After that's done, he'll grumble about how he's got blood on his suit but he's glad to go back home to be with you. Don't question the blood on his suit...just don't, for the sake of your sanity. He does get rather annoyed when they keep screaming for mercy though, he'll just smile at them in an unnerving manner and cut their tongue off to silence them 

Samuel adores you and loves you with all his twisted heart. Deep down he's still a bit insecure of himself. Don't even think of leaving him, it's a death wish. He'll just track your location in a few moments and he'll drag you back home. You'll end up being tied to his bed until you earn your freedom and his trust to move around again. Besides, you don't need to whine and complain so much, not when he's the one taking care of you. He's ready to do ANYTHING to ensure you stay by his side no matter what...

[the-catboy-minyan]

I’m tired of people telling me who and what to boycott.

Like okay i can boycott this country for said actions. But it doesn’t mean i hate the people. I feel bad for them.

I hate their leaders for dictating said action. The people living under the leaders are victims too for all the targeted hate online.

Idc if my friend’s Russian or Israeli or whatever. I support all my friends. But they will have to accept my opinions as much as i do their opinions.

Sorry. I just had to vent and you seemed like nice person

That being said. You seem nice and fun!

I understand what you mean, but when you boycott, do you actually look at what the company or business had done before you decide if to support it or not?

sure, McDonald's gives a discount to IDF soldiers on uniform, and donated meals to soldiers when the war started because a lot of people had to be drafted without notice and they weren't prepared, if that's enough reason for you to boycott their restaurants then sure, technically, your money can go to support the IDF in a roundabout way.

most Israeli companies have no relation to the government, and potentially employ arab Israelis and Palestinians, they're also one of the main sources of kosher food for diaspora jews, since most Israeli companies market to israeli jews. boycotting them for being from Israel will only harm the workers and the customers who rely on them. there was an incident where an Israeli company was boycotted so hard that they had to lay off a large amount of Palestinian workers, though I can't remember the name to look up a source.

companies like starbucks, who only took down a political statement their employee made on their company accounts, aren't actually related to this issue at all, so boycotting them is useless. they aren't funding the government or the IDF in any way.

and small Jewish and Israeli businesses in the diaspora would also most likely have nothing to do with the Israeli government, and even if they made a statement in support of Israel (not their government) before, they're not big enough to personally fund the IDF in any way.

there's a small problem with boycotts atm, and that is that because of capitalism, this will harm the workers first and the company second. so unless you have proof the company actually funds the IDF or Netanyahu or something, like how there's proof KFC(iirc?) funded lgbtqphobic bills or something like that (i have no clue tbh we don't have kfc here), then boycotting them just means you're punishing businesses for having any and all contact with Israel and Israelis, as if the people themselves are personally responsible for genocide.

yeah, there are dictatorships where the leaders control the companies and boycotting said companies actually does something because they're affiliated with the government, but most Israeli companies are not like that, and if there are, then by all means boycott them.

idk I'm rambling, I can't tell you who and what to boycott, I just personally don't think it's an affective strategy when it harms the employees more than the business itself and when the current goal is to punish anyone who interacts with an Israeli in any positive way.

[little-pondhead]

Eyes Of The Past - OLD CH. 2

Part 1

[TW: swearing, mentions of death, sickness, and general spookiness]

The Batfamily was in turmoil. Something was wrong with the city; they could feel it. There was a heaviness in the air, which wasn’t there before. Clouds hung low over the skyline, heavy with rain that refused to fall. Citizens didn’t bother to wander the streets, even during the day. The buildings seemed to curl in on themselves like the city was trying to form a shield between her streets and whatever was to come. Even the criminals were staying quiet! Joker hadn’t made a peep in days.

So, needless to say, tensions were high.

“How’d the raid on the Lounge go last night?” Tim rubbed his face as Bruce entered the Batcave. They’d all been running themselves ragged, trying to find the source of their unease.

Bruce grunted. “Hn.”

“He was busted.” Barbara filled him in from over their loudspeakers. She pulled up footage of the previous night on the Batcomputer, letting Tim examine every pixel of the interactions. “One of the workers spotted him during the stakeout and warned the Penguin. Hood was there, too.”

“Red Hood?” Tim sipped his coffee, clicking through the fuzzy videos. “I wasn’t aware he was up for collaborations right now.”

“He was there for a business deal,” Bruce muttered, obviously sulking.

“Bruce got yelled at for ruining the whole setup.” Barbara snickered. She opened up a short, thirty-second clip of Red Hood chewing Batman out in the middle of some dark alleyway, a grumpy-looking woman in the Lounge uniform standing in cuffs next to them. “The woman is Tamia Brone, the supervisor on shift for the evening. She was seen with the employee who tipped off the Penguin. She’s being held at Gotham PD right now, but will probably be released this afternoon since she’s not affiliated with the underground part of the business.”

“So the bust was useless?” Tim summarized.

“Hnn,” Bruce grunted again. The big bat was still sulking, fiddling with his belt’s equipment. Tim sighed. Bruce always got like this when Jason got angry with him. He was all solemn and sulky and resorted to one-syllable words for communication. He wanted to look something up on the Batcomputer, Tim could tell. He was just waiting for Tim to be done.

“Fine.” Tim spun the chair fully around and popped out of the seat as gracefully as he could. “Take the chair, Bruce. What do you want to find?”

Bruce practically teleported to the chair, fingers flying over the keyboard as he cleared the cam footage except for the stuff that came from his own bodysuit. He zoomed in on the moment the employee spotted him, using a program to clean up the stray pixels for a clear face of the boy’s face.

Tim leaned over Bruce’s shoulder, watching him work. “Oh, shit,” he realized. “That’s a kid! What is the Penguin doing, hiring minors?”

Furious keyboard sounds were heard over their intercom. “There are no minors in his employee database. But there is one recent hire; Danny Nightingale, age 18. No middle name.” Barbara recited. “He fits the description of the kid there, but there’s not much on his file. It’s most likely a fake name.”

“He’s a busboy.” Bruce finally spoke up. “Here’s the conversation with his supervisor.” He typed a few last words into the computer, and the audio started to play.

“-and the boy. Who is he?”

“Boy? What the hell are you talking about, Bats.”

“The one by the dumpster.”

“Danny? Hey, don’t you even think about bringing him into this! He’s a good kid; the best busboy I’ve ever had. If you scare him off imma beat you six ways to Sunday, you hear?? I don’t care what your stabby sidekick says about it!”

“He’s not in trouble, I just-”

“Like fucking hell I’d believe that! He was the one who tipped off the boss, everyone in the building knows that! But that poor boy is just trying to do his job. That kid risked his own health and safety to warn his boss against someone who, in his eyes, threatened his livelihood.”

“Health?”

“What? You didn’t notice the poor kid had gotten sick? Some detective you are.”

“He shouldn’t be working if he’s sick.”

“Like I’d tell him that. Danny’s parents kicked him out as soon as he turned eighteen. He needs money, Bats. Gotham ain’t kind to kids like him, you know this. If he was really sick, I’d’ve sent him home.”

“So he wasn’t sick?”

“Don’t twist my words, bastard. He had gotten sick, not he was sick. Poor kid has some nasty allergies. One of the boss’ associates was wearing something that didn’t agree with him, and he threw up."

“Hn.”

“Don’t grunt at me, mister! It’s a legitimate allergy! Are discriminating against allergens now??”

“No-”

“Oracle! Hey! Don’t glare at me, I know they’re real-Oracle! Make sure to save this clip in case Big Broody over here gets his head stuck up his ass again. Maybe seeing how he’s treating a sick kid will burst his bubble sometime.”

“Will do, Miss Brone.”

“AHA! I knew they were real! You’re a real one, Oracle!”

“I’m taking you down to the station.”

“If I’m not let out before my next shift, I’m letting Poison Ivy know that Robin stores extra weapons in the park!”

As the audio faded out, Barbara giggled and Tim sighed again. “Who on earth is this woman?” He asked, draining the rest of his mug in a single gulp.

“I took some night classes with her, a couple of years ago,” Barbara answered, pulling up Tamia’s personal file. A strong-faced woman stared back at them. “She’s a spitfire, but a good person. Danny probably reminds her of her younger siblings. They died a while back, and ever since, she’s been super protective of young kids who are on their own. Volunteers at the library on the weekends for kid events, helps out at the Mystery Elf Program every year for Christmas, and stuff like that.”

“How did she know about my weapons?”

Tim swore and jumped, turning on his heel. Damian, the little monster, had snuck up behind them again. Bruce just spared him a glance and went back to sifting through their files.

“Kids tell her things.” They couldn’t see her, but they could tell Barbara just shrugged at their inquiries. “Robin has a small cult following among the younger kids in Gotham, so Tamia basically has eyes and ears everywhere.”

“So we should investigate her.” Tim mused.

“No-”

A roar of a motorcycle interrupted them. Jason peeled into the Batcave on his motorcycle, barely coming to a complete stop before he jumped off and sped to the computer. 

“Move, old man.” Jason snarled, practically hauling Bruce out of the seat to take his place.

“How dare you, Todd!”

“Shut up, Demon Brat!” Jason growled again, never looking away from the monitor as his fingers flew across the keyboard. 

Tim flinched. He knew, without having to look, that Jason’s eyes were glowing bright green right now. He was on the verge of a Pit episode. Usually, this meant he’d hole up in his many safe houses and drop off the grid for a while. The only reason he’d be in the Batcave right now was if he needed to find someone. Someone to kill. 

“Oh, good.” Jason leaned back. “You already started researching him.” Everyone looked on in dawning horror as Danny Nightingale’s exhausted and startled face looked at them, the screenshot taken from Batman’s body suit camera. 

“Jason…” Bruce started. 

But Jason wasn’t listening. “No one is allowed to go after him.” He simply announced. “I have questions for this kid, you ain’t getting in the way of that.”

“You can’t kill a civilian, Todd.” Damian challenged.  

Jason stood. Green light leaked from his mask, and his muscles were tensed like he either wanted to run for his life or throw hands. Tim took a step back. “That,” he ground out, pointing at Danny’s picture. “Is not a civilian. That is a threat.”

…

Danny felt like shit. 

It’s been two days since he frantically tipped off the Penguin to the Bat’s presence, and ever since, the Lounge has been shut down for unforeseen reasons. He didn’t know why, he was just a busboy. His boss had taken the news in stride, ordering him to book it out the back with some of the other servers. Tamia was on his heels the entire time, directing them all down a side alley with ease before getting snatched by Batman herself. Danny had screeched to a halt, intending to go back for her, but one of the bartenders had gripped his arm and hadn’t let go, hissing, “She’ll be fine! You’re the one who needs to get out of here!” Reluctantly, Danny complied, no matter how horrible he felt after. 

When everyone had split up, the bartender told him to only return to work when the boss told him to. Then, they all went their separate ways, and Danny woke up the next morning with an extra $3k in his bank account. 

To be honest, he spent that first day anxiously sneaking around the city, checking in on all his coworkers that were present that night. Everyone was okay, for the most part. The bartender who had dragged him was passed out on a shitty couch, beer bottle in hand, and one of the waiters was being yelled at by her boyfriend for having her shift cut short. Danny’s core ached at the sight. So when forgotten cans of coke in the back of their fridge exploded from a random spike of cold and cut the argument short, he hoped she didn’t mind his interference too much. 

Tamia, however, took longer to track down. To his horror, she was sitting like a grumpy cat deep within Gotham’s police station, glaring at any officer that tried to approach her. He was forced to tap into his invisibility, but he eventually snuck past security and over to her holding cell. He waited until she was alone, before letting out a tiny, almost inaudible rumble from his core, slipping through the bars with intangibility. The two shades at Tamia’s neck perked up, instantly zeroing in on him. While the older woman couldn’t see the shades, she must have felt something as well. She stiffened, glancing around subtly. 

“Who’s there?” She hissed. 

Danny shifted. He was…uncomfortable. But Tamia had done so much for him. “It’s me.” He whispered back, stepping closer and leaning close to her ear. Tamia flinched back, eyes darting to his face. He was still invisible, thank the Ancients. 

“Danny??” Tamia regained control of her expression and went back to her brooding look for the cameras. “What the fuck???”

“Sorry, Tam.” He apologized. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine, Danny. How are you here?”

“Uh…” He didn’t know how to answer that, so he just told her the truth. “I snuck in.”

Tamia gave his general location a side-eye. “You know Batman doesn’t like metas in his city.” 

And that was a tipping point, wasn’t it? Danny’s core buzzed in his ears with anxiety as his voice shook. “Are you going to report me?”

Tamia snorted, covering it up with a cough as a cop passed by. “Hell no. You’re a good kid, Danny. I’d never turn you in, even to the Joker.” 

“Ah,” he said awkwardly. “Thanks. Uh, do you want me to get you out of here?”

Tamia tilted her head. Her hair had come loose from its bun, with strands of curly hair falling into her eyes. “No,” she decided. “The boss has plans in place for things like that. I’m a legal employee and a good one he won’t leave to rot. I’ll be out of here by the end of the day. I’ll be alright.”

He sighed. “If you’re sure…”

“I am. Go home, Casper. Get some sleep.”

Danny’s face twisted at the name, but he nevertheless bade his supervisor and the two shades goodbye and walked back out the front doors of Gotham PD, not bothering to fly. Flying meant he had to go ghost, and that meant he had to deal with…other things. 

He decided to sleep the rest of the day, extremely spent from all the extra energy he had used up. Danny didn’t rise again till noon the next day, at which his stomach finally made itself known, demanding he seek out food. He lay on his bed for an extra hour, trying to desperately ignore the grumbles in his belly, but finally gave in, grabbing some cash to stuff in his pockets and making his way out of the shitty apartment building he lived in. Two kids threw rocks at his face as he passed through the front doors, but he just sidestepped and ignored them, letting the stones shatter the glass doors instead. 

The clouds are low. The Knights are away. Shades whispered and writhed at the edges of his vision. The Lady is sick.

Leave me alone. Danny groaned and rubbed his forehead. These days, the words of the dead seemed to pound at his head like a sledgehammer, relentless. An uncomfortable heat was building in his head. He ignored it. 

Danny rounded a corner and entered a gas station. “Hello!” The cashier greeted him, too cheery for the job they were working. “Let me know if you need anything!” He waved in acknowledgment and shuffled between aisles, staring blankly at the brightly colored packages of cheap food. His eyes couldn’t focus on the labels, so he just grabbed something with a cheetah on it. Danny then shuffled to the next aisle over and snatched a large bottle of something pink and bright. The cashier gave him an impeccable customer service smile, which he tried to return. 

“Personally, I like the smell of the blue flavor.” They scanned his items, and he had to nod and pretend he knew what they were talking about. “Here you go, that’ll be $6.27. Would you like a bag?”

“No,” Danny shook his head. “Thank you.”

“Have a nice day!” The bell rang over the sound of the cashier as Danny left. He was too tired and hungry to give them a proper response. 

Gotham’s skies were still dark and cloudy, which for once, Danny was thankful for. Sunlight would probably make his growing headache worse. He wandered around for a long while, just taking in the sights of the city. He didn’t know why, but less and less people had been on the streets these days, giving him a slight break from the relentless stares and whispers. He just had to avoid certain areas that were clouded with death, and he was good to go! He was free to walk around aimlessly all he wanted. 

Today, it seemed, his wanderings took him to a small, silent park. He pushed open the tiny gate and snuck inside. It was quiet as a cemetery, and looked like one, too. Hell, if Danny was in his right mind, he would have realized it was a cemetery. He’d argue later that there were no spirits around, so how could he have known? There was just a profound sense of emptiness that was suffocating the whole area, but Danny was so fed up with the rest of the city, he barely noticed. 

Instead, he simply made himself at home on a stone bench off to the side and tore open his feast, not tasting anything as he chowed down on the chips. A faint tingle on his tongue told him the chips were spicy, but how was he supposed to taste anything when his tastebuds were dead? Soon, the chips were gone, bag and all. (The only perk of being dead was that he acted as his own personal trashcan. Nothing was littered with him around!) Cracking open his heavy drink, Danny took a sip and stared at the sky. Just thinking about nothing as the day passed and the evening set. 

It’d been a long day. 

…

Jason jerked. Shivers ran up his spine, and the green in his vision got stronger. He was in the depths of a pit episode, some part of his brain told him. No one had been hurt yet. 

But someone was about to be. 

Jason jerked again and lunged for his front door, ripping off the lock Tim had put on it (trying to cage him like an animal) with his bare hands. He had no shoes, no helmet, no mask, nothing. But he bolted out the front door in a blind rage. His world was greengreengreen. 

A snarl ripped itself out of his throat as he jumped the last two stories from the main staircase to the ground level. His landing left a small indent on the tile. (How did he do that?) The front doors were already wide open, he’d left it that way. Jason tore down the street, silently thankful there was no one on the streets. 

Someone was going to die tonight. Someone had walked over his grave. 

Jason’s chest heaved as he bolted through alleyways, taking shortcuts to get to the one place he always refused to visit. There was a Bat following him now. Which one? Probably Nightwing. It didn’t matter. His hands were curled and his footsteps were loud. His heart pounded in his head, egging on the Pit. Phantom fingers ran down his arms, pushing his shoulders so he’d go faster. The city bent in on itself. Streets seemed to straighten out, letting him have a clear shot toward his target. 

He burst from the alleyways in a sudden rush, and Jason skidded to a stop to get his bearings. His feet were bleeding, he could tell. Whatever. His green eyes were glued to the tiny, limp figure of Danny Nightingale resting on a stone bench not five feet away from Jason’s grave. The one he was buried in. The one he crawled out of. The kid had walked on his grave. 

Jason rushed forward with a roar. 

“What the FUCK?!” Danny startled upright at the sound, quickly spotting Jason and scrambling to his feet. He had a half-filled bottle of pink Fabuloso cleaner in his hand but dropped that quickly when Jason lunged for him. 

“Jason!” Someone yelled, trying to grab at his shoulders. But Jason was too far gone in the pit rage, now. He was almost animalistic, growling and clawing at the kid’s retreating figure. Blood was getting smeared over the dead grass, with bits of glass from the alleyway being pushed farther into his skin. 

“Shit, man! I didn’t know this was your Haunt!” Danny’s eyes were filled with fear and worry, but his gaze was fixed solidly on a spot above Jason’s head. 

“This was my grave!” Jason managed to screech. He got a lucky hit in, and the kid tumbled away, clutching his shoulder where a bruise was already forming through his thin clothes. 

“I didn’t know!” Danny yelled again. He made no move to fight back. 

“THIS WAS OUR GRAVE!” 

Something is wrong. A sudden, clear thought entered Jason’s head. It was like cold water had splashed him awake. These were not his words. These were not his actions. Jason was not in control of his body. 

Something else was speaking for him. 

A wail ripped itself out of his throat. Danny rolled to the side, avoiding his lunge. Jason could only watch helplessly as the kid was backed into a corner. For every step Jason took forward, Danny took two steps back. The kid was too used to this. He moved with too much ease, avoiding Jason’s wild swings like he could predict every movement. 

“Dammit, JASON!” Two pairs of hands gripped at his shoulders this time, forcing him to turn. Nightwing and Orphan (when had she gotten here?) tried their best to wrestle him down, heaving with the effort. 

“No! Don’t!” Danny bolted forward, right as Jason lunged for his own family in a haze of green. Time seemed to slow, and logically, Jason knew there was no way in hell Danny would have made it in time to do anything. Jason knew he was about to hurt his family, badly. He was about to break bones and claw at vulnerable skin. He was about to look his sibling in their eyes and see their hearts shatter. Jason was bout to break apart their family. Again. 

Then Danny screamed something, there was a flash of light, and suddenly there was a wall of fucking fire separating Jason from his siblings. From the outside world. 

Jason barely managed to avoid the flames, tucking himself into a sharp roll and popping up with his teeth bared. 

His brain tried to process what had just happened. 

His body screamed in rage.

His prey had disappeared. 

In Danny’s place floated a young boy. His eyes were as green as Jason’s. An iron crown wreathed in flames was set upon his head upside down, the sharp points causing rivers of green blood to run down from his hairline. Iron shackles chained his hands together. Pieces of charred armor clung to his body by thin straps. There was a chill in the air, and despite the fire, ice was starting to grow from the ground in a ring around the boy, curving and sharp, like it was trying to trap him in.

The boy looked at him, and Jason saw that he was crying.

...

[oOoOoO cliffhanger~]

[bigdealsgoddog]

Yandere Eugene x reader

Find the original post here

Turns out Eugene had lied. Well, you still weren’t sure of it but when he had told you his brother awaited for you downstairs if you did decide to run but he had you handcuffed to the couch for a few hours now so it didn’t make sense for him to still be waiting. However, considering your binds it was unlikely you could do anything about it anyway.

Eugene was sat next to you, flipping through one of the Manila folders from his cabinet. He seemed to be in a good mood. He had a small smile on his face as he hummed a tune to himself. He snapped the folder shut, making you jump slightly but harden your glare as your eyes dart across the room.

“Oh don’t look like that, you still haven’t even answered my question.”

“I don’t see the need to” You snapped at him, shifting your glare back at him. Eugene chuckled, shaking his head “(y/n) it’s simple. How long have you been in contact with Jake Kim?”

“I’m sure you already know the answer to that” you spat at him, scrunching up your nose “how about we just cut to the chase-just send me off like all your traitorous enemies. Because I’m sure as hell not working for you.”

Eugene leaned forward, resting the Manila folder on the table before turning to you and resting his hand on your thigh. You tensed up from the touch, trying to shift a little further from him but he took this chance to move closer to you, his free hand reaching out for yours. “You’re not going anywhere all those fools were sent to. You’re a bit more…special to me.” His smile sent a shiver down your spine, realizing between the handcuff and Eugene’s slowly tightening grip on your other hand, you weren’t going to escape anytime soon.

“I’m certain you’d think I’m crazy, which I understand. I’m sure you’re so scared” what concerned you more was that big grin staying on his face as he narrowed his eyes at you “which is fine. You will be scared for a while I’m sure” he lifted you up with surprise ease as he shifted under you to pull you into his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder, your body entirely tense. You had no idea how you were supposed to react to this behavior, Eugene never showed himself to be even a little bit of an affectionate person yet here he is. You���d assumed he’d have killed you by now for what you knew and did. “You still haven’t answered my question” He suddenly tightened his arms around you, making you wince and tense up more

“What-uh-what question?” You panicked a little as Eugene snorted “how long have you been in contact with Jake Kim. It’s a simple question. I just want to know how long you’ve betrayed me.”

He hummed seeming to think of an idea “how about you tell me your answer and I’ll tell you exactly what’s happening to Big Deal at this moment” you can practically feel the grin on his face as he said that, making your blood run cold. “What did you do?!” You tried to turn to look at him but he only held you tighter “Nuh uh. I want you to tell me how long you’ve been in contact with them. And then I’ll tell you.” You gritted your teeth at his words, you didn’t want to give in but you needed to know that Big Deal would be ok.

Part of you didn’t want to know his forbid they weren’t.

What did it matter you’re pretty sure he knew the answer anyway “since the second affiliate.” You said quietly and Eugene nodded “I see, so around the same time he reacquainted with Sinu as well.” He clicked his tongue and you frowned, glaring at the ground.

“Tell me what you did to them.”

“Oh I didn’t do anything” he said matter of factor and you let out a sigh of relief, relaxing a little until he opened his mouth again “I’ve sent Eli hang and the rest of the workers to take care of them. They will all be arrested by the time the fight is over. I knew Jake Kim planned to jump me before that happened however I left a decoy. And when he still tried sending backup to collect me at my safe house, I had a little mouse to deal with first” his smile began to grow again and tears welled up in your eyes. If Jake could’ve stopped him knowing he would head to his home first…

You shouldn’t have tried to stick around for more information.

Eugene chuckled and kissed at your cheek, turning your anger into disgust as your fear began to rise. He still hadn’t said how he was going to deal with you.

“You still seem oh so scared. What’s wrong?” He cooed, rubbing circles into your thigh. You hate the fact he seemed to be enjoying your fear “what do you plan to do with me then.” You snapped, trying to sound more confident than you actually did

“Hmm. Probably keep you here.” He leaned up, kissing your temple “with me. I know you won’t love me back just yet but overtime you’ll learn to. For your own good” he reached up, brushing back a bit of your hair and completely stopping any thought you had.

Love him back?

“What the fuck are you talking about” you blurted, making Eugene chuckle again “I’m not sure exactly. There’s something about you that just…interests me so much. It’s almost become an obsession” he twirled a lock of your hair around his finger as he spoke “it pained me surprisingly a lot to find out you were working with Jake Kim.” He stopped his twirling, making you tense up. He reached to your sides and lifted you up again to let himself up. He grabbed the key and unlocked the cuff keeping you to the couch and grabbed your wrist giving you a grin “Cmon. Since I’m not sure if you showed yourself our bedroom yet let me show you that and exactly how I felt when I found out you betrayed me.”